#and merv is just there as always

[yesyourstalker]

I don't know what part this is. I wrote this at 6 am

Slight NSFW mostly implied

_______________________________________________

Ikkan: Neta... Hey you ok?

Neta: yeah.... .. I'm fine I'm just waiting for him to leave completely..... He's such an asshole!!

Ikkan: hey come here.... Don't let him get to you okay? He doesn't know anything about you, your life and you never tried...

Neta: yeah.......he never got to see how amazing I am

Ikkan:oh you're so humble.... He doesn't know what he's missing come here [kiss] also you look good baby.... Look a lot happier... [Kiss]...Hehe...more relaxed...[kiss]

Neta: hehehe.....[kiss]

Ikkan: softer.......and warmer............

Neta:.......[smiles].....

Ikkan:........*sigh*.....[kissing]

Neta: We're alone

Ikkan: yeah we are...heheheh

Neta: no cameras

Ikkan:....... .... You want to slow dance like we used to. Remember during our first date?

Neta: oh........ Ok

Ikkan: what what did you think I was implying?

Neta: nothing nothing it's stupid come here. Let's dance just the two of us away from the commotion.

_______________________________________________

Koi: so you must be my granddaughter... I've heard so much about you. You have straight A's, your captain on your turf war team, you play second chair

Cirrina: actually I play first chair now

Koi: wonderful!... Look at all that confidence and pride amazing... Oh look at me being so rude. Hi my name is koi koi you can call me Grandma Koi, grandma, admiral koi is also an option. I'm a former CEO now head of the advertisement for tech company venton industries.

Cirrina: weren't you the company that started out with game cards and now he's home consoles and arcades? You guys made jump squid right?

Koi: That's the one. I also dipped my foot in farm life raising krill herding sea cows some experience in going produce

Cirrina: I have a houseplant that I bought from the grocery store. I had to change its pot twice and it's taller than me now...oh I'm also skipping the grade and heading straight to high school next year.. My guidance counselor says if I'm good I can maybe even start college classes early. I'll get ahead of everyone else.

Koi: ohhh impressive... So proud to have you as a granddaughter. I see so much of myself in you. I can just tell you're going to be as powerful and successful as me.

Cirrina: I hope I do.......Grandma admiral koi.

Merv: they ran out of wine but I did snatch up the shrimp puffs They're not that bad..... Hello, who's this?

Koi: *ugh* ..... Hone... this is our granddaughter... Remember Neta told us about

Merv: ohhhhhhh nice to meet you.. you must be cirrina.... You're just as pretty as the picture he gave us. Nice to meet you sweetheart.

Cirrina: awww thank you........ Ikkan told me about you. He used to be a farmer. He told me you had acres of strawberries and would first place for best decal 3 years in a row. That's very impressive. You must know a lot about agriculture

Merv: that's correct! Wow you're really something!

Koi: I know! Ah! I just want to pick her in a bag and take her back to haddaido!

Cirrina:hehehe You're too kind..

Koi: well we have to go We're trying to find our kids. I know your uncle is somewhere.. do expect some presents to be in the mail for you sweetie. You just stole our little hearts.

Cirrina: ok bye....hehee

Mizole: You're a snake. You know that?

Cirrina: You've had spinach between your teeth the last 2 hour shut up.

_______________________________________________

Mahi: you think that is going to be mad when we bring this?

Warabi: what's so bad about it? It's just wine?

Mahi: when he expected us to bring drinks He expected it to be in bottles Something you just place on the table make it look nice

Warabi: Oh come on the parties like going to be over in like 4 more hours. We need something like this, that's why I bought five.....for the party

Mahi: We're definitely not going to use all of this. He just wanted one in the apartment

Candi: If he says anything I'm not involved.

Mahi: Baja! Help us bring this in

Baja: ok uhhh what is this exactly

Warabi: its for the party trust me

Baja: ok....

_______________________________________________

Neta: so yeah apparently I've been a captain for the military for 7 years and they didn't tell me- what the hell is this? what happened to the bottles of wine you were supposed to get??

Warabi: didn't have any I just so we just bought the barrel of wine. Five of them. I feel like that's enough right?

Neta: get a little too much where we even going to put this

Mahi: we can just put in the back and have waiters fill up cups

Candi: or you can just have all the guests fill up their own cups

Ikkan: That's not a bad idea...

Neta:....*sigh* ....... Yeah okay that's fine..... I'm gone for 2 minutes and y'all turn this into a keg party

Baja: You've actually gone for 45 minutes

Neta: ............ Just set up the barrels....

Ikkan: hehehehe...... Tonight is still early. Come on, let the guests have a little fun.. it'll be funny seeing some of these producers get drunk off their ass.

Koi: I hope one of them isn't you honey

Ikkan: mom! Uh hah.....wooow so good to see you!...... Neta didn't tell me.... He was inviting my parents. Mmmmm

Koi: well I think it would be nice to spend the holidays with my two boys this year...... I actually came here to see my granddaughter and also talk to my son-in-law. We had a conversation about installing a small arcade original in his original store to keep the traction going once his other store opens.

Neta: Yes we do need to talk more about that I also wanted to talk to Noji about buying vending machines as well, let's walk and talk. You look beautiful by the way Koi. Merv is a lucky man

Koi: you damn right it is... You know how long it took me to convince him to come here. I swear he thinks he bursts into flames interacting with people.

Ikkan:......*sigh*......

Warabi: what were you two doing for 45 minutes?

Ikkan: fuck off

Warabi: hehehehehehe going to tell your mom on you

Ikkan: Warabi!

Warabi:[wheeze]

_______________________________________________

Mahi and @fish-at-fish-fish-resort or caught stealing one of the wine barrels

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: who's a tired bitch?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky drives you home. Just him. No Merv. You have your books and the pajamas but it feels like so much more. 

His fingers tap on the shifter. You’re overly aware of his every move. You try to shrink yourself in the seat, feeling crowded with only him in the car. His hand slips and he reaches over to rest it on your thigh. He rubs you through your pants. 

“You alright?” He asks in a grit. 

“Yeah,” you squeak, fixating on his touch. “Fine.” 

“You don’t gotta be so nervous. You know I like you,” his fingers continue to move, sending ripples through you, “not much you can do to change that either.” 

You press yourself into the seat and flick your eyes up to the windshield. You recognise that house. Your thoughts rush over you and you grab his hand, squeezing it. 

“Stop,” you say. 

He hits the brake and you flutter your lashes, looking at him, “just drop me here. I can walk.” 

“What? Doll? What’s wrong?” 

“I... well... what if someone sees you?” You ask, “my mom, my sister... they’d wanna know why you were driving me home if I’m just working at the hotel, wouldn’t they?” 

He considers you and tilts his head, “hm, you’re clever too, doll. Suppose they would.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m not--” 

You keep your hand on his but don’t try to move him. Nor does he pull away. Instead, he squeezes your leg and lets out a purr. 

“I’ll make you a deal, doll, you give me a kiss and I’ll do what you say. You can go, enjoy your books, try on your jammies,” his blues eyes blaze at you, “and I’ll be patient. I’ll wait for you. Until tomorrow.” He makes a pained expression, “you know a man can only take so much when it comes to pretty women.” 

You giggle, overwhelmed by his words. No one ever calls you pretty, only your mom. In fact, Roxie always said it was good you have a brain because your looks won’t get you very far, and she wasn’t proven wrong. Not until him. 

“Okay, uh,” you gulp and look down at his hand, slowly peeling yours off of him, “I just...”  

You touch the seat belt and follow it down to the buckle. You click the button and let it repel behind the seat. You swallow again, trying to wet your dry mouth. If it gets you home without any extra questions, you can give him a kiss. It wasn’t so bad earlier, was it. It made you feel... a lot. 

You shift and lean towards him. His hand crawls up your leg to your hip as he urges you close, himself angling over the space between your seats. Your gaze meet his sapphire irises and you squeeze your eyelids shut. He’s so handsome you could melt. And he want a kiss. From you! 

You press your lips to his. He growls and his other hand comes up to the back of your head, holding you there before you can pull away. His tongue glides along your lips and delves past them. Like earlier, he invades your mouth eagerly, drawing you into him as he groans. You grasp the front of his shirt and squeak. 

The smell of his rich cologne seeps into your nose and his warmth swirls around you. You’re trapped by more than his strength; you’re completely swept up in his need. You’ve never felt anything like that. No one has ever wanted you as much as he has. Even if you’re scared, it’s nice to feel that. 

He leaves you breathless as he parts his lips from yours, hovering just before you as his pants shallowly. His tongue pokes out and traces his lips. He purrs and his eyes threaten to swallow you up. He’s even more handsome up close; ever line is like a paint stroke in a masterpiece, every hair is placed perfectly, and his features are sculpted just so. 

You blink and feel your chest crush. He's so much better than you; more attractive, richer, older, smarter... Your eyes gloss over just a little with the reminder and his hand slips down to your neck, his grip on your slackening. A divot forms between his brows in disappointment. 

“What’s the matter, doll?” He rasps. 

You shake your head and force a smile, “nothing,” you eke between taut cheeks, “I just... I don’t want to let you down.” 

“Doll, you can’t do that,” he chuckles, “you gotta trust yourself. Trust me. I mean every word I say.” He exhales and looks you up and down, “I want you so bad...” His fingers curl into your neck and you feel him shake, “you...” He closes his eyes, his lips slightly open, and he pulls his hand off of you. He recoils and sits back in his seat. “You should go before I just gotta show ya.” 

Is it a threat? It sounds like one. Your blood runs cold as he balls his hand to a fist. He puffs through his nostrils, eyes still closed as if he’s fighting himself. You reach back to grab the bag from behind the seat and pull it into your lap. 

“Thank you, Bucky, for the drive home,” you say, “and for everything else. It’s all so nice.” 

“Doll,” he dips his head down, “anything...” His fist tightens, “have a good night.” 

“You too,” you chirp and pull on the door handle. 

It doesn't open. Panic pricks in your chest as you search for the lock. You hear a pop and glance over as Bucky presses a button. The door unlocks and you nearly fall out of the car. 

You right yourself and close the door gently with a sheepish look in his direction. He watches you, reaching to grip the steering wheel. You give a tiny wave and slowly turn away. There’s a giddiness in you. Even if you’re entirely out of your element and can’t quite believe any of it, you feel special. You’ve never really felt that. Just forgotten. 

You start down the street. You don’t look back until you get to the corner and look back. Bucky sits still in the car, just where he stopped. You can’t see through the tinted windows. His headlights flash, a signal but for what, you’re not sure.  

You turn and continue onto your mother’s street. You stop just at the threshold and look down at the bag in your hand. You don’t like to lie but you need one. You walk up to the front door and onto the small porch. You enter quietly, hoping maybe you won’t be heard. You’ve never struggled very much before going unnoticed. 

Your sister lays on the couch in the breadth of the oscillation fan. It’s hot. The news said there’s a heat wave. You’re feeling it now. You almost feel bad that you’d been too busy to notice before. That you’d been in nice places where every detail, including the temperature, is perfect. 

“Finally home,” Roxie sneers without looking over the back of the couch, “long shifts at the casino, huh?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you do your best to keep the bag from crinkling. “Busy.” 

“That’s what a job is. Try a night at the club. That shit is chaos.” 

“Sure, uh, I can’t imagine,” you shuffle into the kitchen.  

You expect to find your mom waiting for you but it’s empty. You go to your room and hide the bag on the other side of your dresser. You close your door and come back out. She’s there, in her robe with a bonnet on her head. 

“Mom,” you croak, “hi, uh--” 

“How was it? First day!” She chimes. 

“Uh, yeah it...” your voice trails off as your jaw locks and you fear the truth spilling out. The day flows through your mind; the kissing, the books, the food, and more kissing. “...was a lot.” 

“Oh, yes, well, a casino,” she chuckles, “that can’t be anything but hectic. So what do they got you doing? Dealer? That’s exciting.” 

“No, er, no, just... cleaning,” you stammer. 

“Right, yes, I forgot. You said before. I’m sure people make a mess there too,” she scrunches her nose, “so, what do you feel like for dinner? We’ve been waiting on you. Tacos? Spaghetti?” 

“Oh, I’m not very hungry,” you say, “sorry, but I’ll help you cook.” 

“You should eat, honey,” she insists. 

“I now, it’s just...” you look up at the ceiling and think. You scour your mind for your brief recollection of the casino, “they have a buffet at work. Employees eat free and... I got carried away.” 

“Ah, lucky. Wish my work had a buffet,” she trills, “guess I should just be thankful for the health insurance.” 

“Mm, yeah,” you try to smile, “so, I can help cook--” 

“No, no, you just had your first day. You just relax. I’ll leave a bit extra for you, just in case,” she squeezes your shoulder then caresses your arm gently, “I hope you know how proud I am of you.” 

“Oh yeah,” Roxie blusters as she appears behind you, “because scrubbing toilets is so amazing.” 

She shoulders past and your mom moves out of her path. You frown and your mom gives her a sardonic look, “hey, I’m proud of you too. I’ve told you that.” 

“Why? I hand out flyers to desperate men looking for one-night stands?” 

“Don’t say it like that,” your mom rebukes. 

“Well, it’s the truth,” she snickers, “half the night, I don’t even hand out the things. I just hang out by the hot dog seller. He gives me free food.” Roxie looks at your archly, “see, not the only one with perks.” 

“Mm, I like hot dogs,” you say, “um, I’m gonna... lay down.” 

“Sure thing, honey, let me know if you need anything. Oh, chamomile? I could put the kettle on.” 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure her as you back up. “Promise I’m fine. I, er... tomorrow, I start in the afternoon so I’m gonna sleep in.” 

“Oo, that will be nice. But be careful, if you’re working late, I’m sure there’ll be some unruly people hangin’ around,” her forehead lines with concern, “I’ll give you some extra money for a cab. I don’t want you on the bus that late.” 

“Oh, alright,” you agree, just wanting to hide. You don’t like lying and with each word, it’s harder to hold yourself together. You don’t think you can do this. “Thanks.” 

“Course, hon, whatever you need.” 

You retreat to your room. You sit on the bed and stare at the wall. It’s not just today, but tomorrow, and the next day. How long until Bucky moves on to the next thing? You googled him, you’re not that naive. At least you don’t think you are.  

It feels rotten. You don’t like not telling your mom the truth. You tell her everything. She’s the one person who listened to you. Well, until Bucky. You can feel his gaze just thinking of it. How intent he is on every word, how he focuses on your lips as they outline every syllable.  

You’re an adult. It’s not a lie. It’s a secret. And you don’t have a lot of options. It’s about time you help out and Burger King isn’t calling you back to scrape grills. 

No matter how many times you justify it, it still feels wrong. Even if the way Bucky looks at you makes you all wiggly inside, it’s still lying. Even if you really need the money, it doesn’t change what you’re doing. And you are doing it. You have to.  

You don’t want to see another red notice in the mailbox, you don’t want to hear your mom crying through the wall. You want to be able to give her a day off, more than that. She’s taken care of you for so long, this is just what you need to do to take care of her. 

That’s what you’ll keep telling yourself. 

You get up and go to the dresser and take the bag from behind it. You slide out a book and lay down with it. That’s how you cope. You read, you go to a world that doesn’t exist, just until you’re forced back to reality.  

You shiver at what awaits you at the end of the first chapter. You know what Bucky expects and you know he won’t forget. The thought of the pajamas, the little top and the tiny shorts... 

Don’t think of it. Open the book. Things will be normal for just a little longer. 

[dyns33]

Feeling rainy

Another Dream x female reader 

      “Honey, you look cloudy today. No, rainy."

     "I confirm, he is very rainy at the moment."

     "Matthew. Leave us."

     "Right away, boss. But I'm sick of being wet all the time when I fly in the Dreaming, thank you very much."

It had taken a little time, but during their relationship, Y/N had acquired several certainties about Morpheus, especially about his mood.

The master of nightmares was not very good at expressing his feelings. Mainly because he didn't always know them himself. Partly because he was stupid and not very good with people.

His emotions were like a storm inside him. And therefore, a storm inside the Dreaming, especially when he was nervous, angry or sad.

Happy or neutral sentiments were preferable, with the sky remaining blue, the sun lighting up the whole realm, and the wind seeming to sing melodies.

 Sometimes it was a little too hot, when he was in love and excited, but that was no big deal. Also, it never lasted very long.

Like the weather, Morpheus' mood was changing very quickly, and very easily.

And even though he was doing his best to hide his feelings behind a straight face, the Dreaming never left any doubt that something was bothering him.

     "Is it because of last night ?" Y/N asked calmly.

     "I don't wish to talk about it, love."

     "Not even to please me ? I don't like it when you rain, especially because of me."

     "... It's not because of you. I probably overreacted."

     "Kind of like always, darling, but that doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid. Do you want a hug ?"

     "... Maybe."

The tall, terrible prince of the stories certainly didn't like being seeing as weak, but when Dream was in Y/N's arms, he looked like a cat desperately trying not to purr with pleasure, totally at her mercy.

It wasn't a problem since they were alone, but dreams and nightmares guessed what was going on, as the clouds disappeared and a rainbow formed over their heads.

     "She has to cuddle him all the time."

     "Hush."

     "Merv is right. I may be his more or less emotional raven, but he clearly needs her as an emotional human."

     "Get out of my library."

All of this could have gone quite well, since Y/N had managed to decode the functioning of the Dreaming, and therefore of Dream, but sometimes he was visibly lost and upset by her emotions, not knowing how to help her, and beginning to feel them with her.

Which was not a good thing, for him, nor for his kingdom.

Y/N therefore asked for advice around her, knowing that it was useless to ask Morpheus directly. Morpheus never really answered questions. That being said, his subjects weren't necessarily better for it.

Lucienne, loyal intelligent Lucienne advised her to speak to the Lord, as communication was important, although she had to be careful how she wanted to express what she wanted to say, as the Lord could misunderstand things.

Merv and Matthew thought that they should say nothing and just cover him with kisses and compliments so that he would always be happy. Because everyone wanted him to be happy, and everyone loved rainbows.

The Corinthian had a different opinion.

     "You have to do exactly like him." he declared with three huge smiles.

     "What do you mean, like him ?"

     "You want to help him by doing anything so that he doesn't get overwhelmed by emotions ? So don't show any emotion yourself. Keep them inside, act neutral, use a monotonous voice, express your love with ridiculously complicated little sentences, and it will be perfect."

Normally, it would have been strongly discouraged to listen to a nightmare. But despite their bickering, the Corinthian was arguably one of the creations that knew Morpheus best, so Y/N thought it wasn't a bad idea.

After all, Dream was a bit like a sponge. Absorbing all the dreamers' hopes, fears, desires, emotions, and though he was a separate being who felt distinctly, he couldn't completely cut himself off from the rest of the world.

So it seemed logical that he was sometimes troubled by others, and therefore by Y/N, with whom he spent the most time.

It didn't cost much to imitate him. It wasn't necessarily easy, but she could do it, for him, so it wouldn't be rainy or stormy too often.

So she trained in front of a mirror, doing her best to remain impassive as she thought about a joke, her deceased grandfather, an adorable kitten, her boss whom she wanted to strangle, and lots of things that never left her indifferent.

Part of her had thought Morpheus wouldn't notice. Another hoped he would see it, that he would be happy, and that she could smile to herself.

While they were watching her favorite movie together, a funny scene played out and she didn't react. Then another, and another, until Y/N felt that Dream's attention was no longer on the screen, but on her.

     "My love, you seem distant."

     "Not at all. I'm enjoying a pleasant evening, with you." she said with a neutral tone.

     "... You didn't laugh. Would you like to see another movie ?"

     "No, I like this movie. You weren't laughing either, do you want to change ?"

     "I never laugh."

    "Because you're too melancholic to find aything funny ?"

     "... No. My laughter... I was informed that my laughter could be frightening."

Y/N then turned to him, and at that moment, she almost smiled, finding the revelation ridiculous and adorable,  wanting to hear that laughter that her lover was so ashamed of, out of curiosity, but above all to reassure him.

Except that for that, she would have to show emotions, and make him feel emotions, and the goal was to remain as neutral as possible, so Y/N forced herself to remain neutral, looking at him straight in the eyes so that he knew that she was serious, while looking for the right wording.

"I'm sure your laugh is sweet." was the best thing that came to her, patting Morpheus' hand, before watching the movie again.

There were many other moments like this, at the New Inn, at the park, in the Dreaming, and Y/N really thought that everything was fine, that she was doing a good job. The weather seemed calm, with a few distant clouds, but no storms in sight.

Still, there was something in Morpheus' eyes when he looked at her. Curiosity mixed with fear. She didn't dare tell him about it, thinking it was nothing, and he didn't tell her either.

Until Matthew came to visit her as she was getting ready to go to sleep.

     "I don't know if I should ask you to go to bed quickly, or advise you to stay awake."

     "Why ? What's going on ? Morpheus is in trouble ?!"

     "Uh... That depends. Is everything okay between you two ?"

     "Yes, perfectly fine. Why ?" she asked, suddenly worried.

     "I don't know. It's foggy at the moment. We've had a few rains, a few tornadoes, but Lucienne managed to calm it down. Except that... Hmm... I don't know if I should say it."

     "Matthew."

     "He thinks you don't love him anymore." sighed the raven, lowering his head.

The news hit Y/N straight to the heart. For a moment, she wondered how Dream could have come to such a conclusion. Then she remembered how Dream was, his difficulties in understanding people, emotions, and even if he himself didn't often show what he felt, he clearly needed others to show him.

For a month, Y/N thought to make him happy. For a month, Morpheus thought she wanted to leave him.

     "... This is a terrible misunderstanding."

     "Glad to hear that. Can you tell him, please ?"

Falling asleep when stressed might take a while, but Y/N needed to see Morpheus quickly, so she closed her eyes thinking hard about him, and she arrived on the balcony of his palace.

It was raining.

Obviously, Matthew had come to see her before Lucienne went to speak to her master.

Dream stood in the rain, motionless, watching his realm. He didn't move when she came close to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

     "I love you, you know that ?" she asked shyly.

     "I hope so."

     "In wanting to please you, I made a mistake. Your mood changes so easily, you can be so fragile, so sensitive."

     "I'm not fragile." he muttered, continuing to stare into the distance.

     "You are, but that's neither an insult nor the question. I thought... The Corinthian told me that if I don't show my emotions, I won't upset you with them and that you I would be happy. I wanted to help, really. Since you know that I love you, I imagined that it wouldn't change anything. It would be inside, like for you. Sorry."

Finally, Dream turned to her, looking surprised and solemn. He stared at her for a long time, before taking a deep breath.

     "I see. So you made several mistakes, indeed."

     "Dream..."

     "You listened to the Corinthian, a nightmare."

     "I know."

     "You thought it would be good for you to keep your emotions inside, like me. Knowing that my emotions are never really inside, but entirely outside, in the Dreaming, while you should keep your storms in your little heart."

     "I get it, I..."

     "And you believed that I would like you to deprive me of your smile. Of your laughter. That you hide your sadness from me, which I could erase with kisses. Your anger, which I could appease with poems. Your love, which I carry in my chest. All this to make me happy ?"

So Morpheus did something that Y/N hadn't imagined.

He laughed. 

And like he said, his laugh was a little scary. Inhuman. A sound that mortals weren't supposed to hear, that no one was supposed to hear. But he was laughing, and he was smiling, and he came over to kiss her, and Y/N thought she liked that sound a lot.

     "My love, your emotions, all your emotions, are my joy. Do not hide them from me."

     "Okay. But promise me you'll tell me when it's rainy, and why."

     "Very well."

     "And I was right, your laugh is very sweet."

     "Yeah, I guess love makes you blind and deaf."

     "Matthew. Leave us."

     "Yes, boss. Glad it's not raining anymore."

Indeed, the sun had returned as he spoke, a bright sun, and even if the weather could never be perfect, like their relationship, Y/N would do everything to make Morpheus as bright as possible.

[eldritch-spouse]

Does Mervin wear his cuntiest outfits when he's sent to kill people? Blood is kinda hard to get out of clothes so he might wear something casual, not all that valuable, maybe subpar to his taste, but he's also a pride demon so he might feel like he always gotta slay while slaying people's throats

Oh no.

He'd genuinely have a fit if something valuable got irreparable damage from one of his jobs.

Mervin wears something that can offer him agility and keep him light. Something that can get stained just fine. The clothing items he uses to blend into certain crowds are expendable to Merv.

He spends more time making sure any weapons and gadgets are intricate and beautiful rather than his clothing. The pride has to shine somewhere, and it's usually in method/weapons.

[spawksstuff]

De on Merv Griffin Star Trek II Promotion

Transcript below.

Merv: Well you saw DeForest in this last scene that we saw appear uh not the docking the- what do you call it? The?

Leonard: I’m not going to help you.

Merv: Whatever they do with the ship in space to get it going.

Leonard: We’re taking it out of space dock.

Merv: Taking it out of space-that’s what you call it?

Leonard: Yes.

Merv: They were taking it out of the space-I thought there were technical words.

Leonard: Space dock is Bones McCoy.

Merv: Going to de-dock. De-dock the spaceship Yeah, yeah.

William: (unintelligible)

Merv: Well this is the young fella who portrays the outspoken ship’s surgeon Doctor Leonard Bones McCoy. Would you please greet DeForest Kelley.

DeForest: First off-

(unintelligible)

DeForest: Yeah. I want to tell you that I have nothing coming out other than Star Trek II except a 75-year-old turtle which just came out of hibernation.

William: Oh my word.

Merv: You wanna talk about it DeForest?

DeForest: Well her name is Myrtle

Merv: Myrtle the Turtle?

DeForest: Myrtle the Turtle which is a very original name of course.

Leonard: He or she?

DeForest: Myrtle’s a she. I gave you remember?

Leonard: Yes I remember.

Merv: And how do you know she’s 75? Where’d you peak around?

DeForest: Well a friend of ours gave us the turtle which was shown to a vet and the vet arrived at the age.

William: The rings around the shell.

DeForest: The rings around the shell and we’ve had the turtle 10 years and we felt it would be a good thing to have something in the house older than both of us.

Merv: Was the house in an uproar when she came out of hibernation?

DeForest: Just a terrible uproar. It upsets us each spring, it’s a terrible feeling-but I’m glad she’s out. But I must tell you something before I forget about it. I’m so scared, I never do talk shows you know.

Merv: Well we’re delighted you’re here

DeForest: I’m absolutely a wreck I must tell you

William: You don’t like a wreck Leonard-DeForest

Leonard: You look alright.

Merv: You look very relaxed and comfortable.

DeForest: Thank you.

Leonard: You’re handling it beautifully De.

DeForest: That’s what you always tell me.

Merv: You’ve not always been a good guy on film.

DeForest: No, no I haven’t.

Merv: You had your years of being the bad guy.

DeForest: Yes indeed. Yes, a great number of them.

Merv: Which is preferred DeForest?

DeForest: I don’t know. I spent about 10 years trying to get out of the heavy department. There were a group of us running around at the time, James Coburn, and a guy named Jack Elam, with the crazy eye, and there were about 5 of us that were running from show to show. And I got into this thing, I like them because they really are the most interesting roles I find actually.

Merv: More guts to ’em.

DeForest: But then like everything else, I wanted to get out of it. And I had just- I was finding my way out of it, slowly. I had done a film called “Raintree County” in which I got away-he was still a heavy, I kill Lee Marvin in the show.

Merv: That very seldom almost ever happens.

DeForest: But he was a good guy as far as I was concerned. I only kill one guy. But then Eddie Dmytryk put me in a role at Paramount called “Where Love Has Gone” and that was not a heavy. Then I went into Star Trek after that and I got into the Doctor McCoy thing.

Merv: And you’ve just been a lovely person ever since.

DeForest: Yes, I’ve just been darling.

Merv: What’s your most vicious moment on the screen do you feel DeForest?

Leonard: Insulting me.

DeForest: Yes, this is right here.

Leonard: All the time.

DeForest: My situation right here.

Leonard: This is terrible what I have to put up with him.

DeForest: I must tell you about some friends of yours that I do not know personally but on Star Trek one, I went to Australia and New Zealand to do some promo stuff for the film and on the way back I stopped in Hawaii for rest and relaxation. And while there, I was staying at the Kahala Hilton, if you’re familiar with it-

Merv: Very

DeForest: The units that are in the back of the hotel that lead right out to the beach the apartments-

Merv: Oh yeah right out on the-

DeForest: Yes.

Merv: Everyone always fights for those.

DeForest:  And all we did was sleep we were so you know with the jetlag and the whole thing so I had been down to the pool a couple of times and found that it wasn’t too- hi Bob how are you? That it wasn’t-that’s Bob Sallin

Merv: We know.  

DeForest: Yeah we saw him. You put the camera on him, handsome. We had, Carolyn had not been out of the unit hardly at all and I had wondered out. I went to the swimming pool and I found the usual thing, signing autographs and that sort of thing. And I thought well that’s no fun so, but I did see this beautiful coral reef running out to sea and I said, “Carolyn” I said “before we go back to California” I said “you gotta come out, at least walk out on this coral reef”. So we walked down these steps and there was the grass and then the beach. And as we got to the foot of the stairs this applause, tremendous applause, these people on the beach, started to applaud and I thought “My God it can’t” you know this is impossible.

Merv: Well your best performances-

DeForest: Carolyn said “just ignore it and keep walking”. I said “I can’t do that.” They just kept applauding and kept applauding. I said “I can’t do that” I said “I must go and speak to them, at least say hello.” So I walk out there, and here was Don Rickles and his wife.

Merv: Probably coming out of the coral.

DeForest: That’s right, out of the coral. Steve and Eydie.

Merv: Oh the whole gang.

DeForest: And Bob Newhart and his wife. I had never met them before. Come to find out they’re the biggest Trekkies in the world. They had seen the film the night before and they were thrilled with it. The only thing was they Eydie said that she was very unhappy about the theme, the music, and she missed the Star Trek theme. But I had to tell you that because I’ve seen them on your show so many times.

Merv: Oh I know. And I have also been there at the same time they have been at the Kahala.

DeForest: They go there every Christmas.

Merv: And the only fortunate one who is ever there is that dolphin who can swim underwater and get away from Don Rickles. Let’s show another-I can’t wait. I figure if I show enough of these clips I won’t have to pay to see the movie.

DeForest: We haven’t seen it.

Merv: Oh, well this is where Khan, or “Can” as the case may be. Richardo “Mat-ol-ban” Montalban has killed almost everybody but Captain Kirk. (Note: earlier Shatner was being interview alone, and at one point he pronounced "Wrath" as "Wroth" so Merv and Leonard had been teasing him about his pronunciation .)

DeForest: I see.

Merv: Oh you haven’t seen it?

DeForest: No I haven’t seen it.

Merv: Is there a doctor in the house?

DeForest: But I see what you’re talking about. Yes, you’ve got it here.

Merv: Another scene from Star Trek II. Watch.

When they come back from the clip William talks about Ricardo and then they go to a commercial so I ended it here. The interview continues with Bibi Besch coming out, but I have not been able to find that portion of it.

[valeriianz]

Parent Trap AU part 2! told from Robyn and Orpheus' perspective haha. (part 1!)

“Lemme see!”

“Quit shovin’!”

Robyn hovered above Orpheus, forcing the boy to crouch low so they could both poke their heads around the corner to spy on their dads.

Hob and Dream had been dancing around each other all week. Smiling and laughing and even touching each other with more and more frequency (a tap on the shoulder, a hand on the small of the back, even shoes brushing under the table). The twins’ masterful plan to make Hob and Dream fall in love again seemed to be going well… but just before anything earth-shattering happened, anything concrete, the two men seemed to remember themselves and backed away. To the utter bewilderment and anguish of the twins as they retreated back to the drawing board. 

(Literally. It was a large crayola canvas that Orpheus had in his room to doodle on).

Robyn didn’t get it. It was so obvious Dream– the father he’d always known existed somewhere– still had feelings for his dad. It had been hard to tell, in those first couple days pretending to be Orpheus, but once he’d started earnestly asking Dream about Hob, forcing him to recall stories from the past and watching as he’d smile or laugh softly to himself, his gaze far away and misty, it became clear.

But then Dream would shake his head, clearing it, and change the subject.

Robyn and Orpheus had felt that connection between themselves instantly. That zap of recognition like, “Ah-ha! We were meant to find one another.” Why was it so difficult for Dream and Hob to see it?

Robyn huffed. Grown-ups.

After briefly parting for a couple days, Robyn found himself back at Orpheus and Dream’s luxurious home, under the pretence of one last stay to reacquaint themselves to the idea of shared custody or something along those lines, the boys didn’t really understand it, but what they did understand, was that their dad’s would be sleeping under the same roof. But only for a few days.

And after chasing Cori out of the house (good riddance, the pompous git. The boys made sure to give him hell), Robyn and Orpheus knew they had to utilise their time well, plotting their biggest scheme yet.

They, along with help from Dream’s butler, Mervyn, had set up this elaborate dinner that– oh no, Robyn and Orpheus wouldn’t be able to attend, leaving their parents to dine alone. Orpheus had set the scene: candlelight dinner, serving their dad’s favourite dishes, and (Merv’s idea, bless him for taking interest in the boy’s tomfoolery) soft jazz that would eventually transition into a very special song.

“You’ll see,” Mervyn had winked at the boys as he set up the playlist. 

Robyn and Orpheus watched now, as their fathers sat down for dinner, perplexed at the absence of their sons (Dream looking exasperated and Hob scanning the room knowingly, biting down a smirk). The table was clearly only set for two people, and Robyn had done a fantastic job (in his opinion) of decorating with candles and flowers– he had studied that old photograph of their dad’s, copying the layout of the table they sat at there.

Mervyn came out and poured the wine, which is when Dream inquired where Robyn and Orpheus were.

“Afraid they couldn’t make it,” is all Mervyn said, as if the boys were very busy, tied up in meetings and paperwork and whatever else grown-ups did.

Hob propped an elbow on the table and let his head fall in the palm of his hand, shaking it slightly and fully smiling now, amused.

Robyn grinned too.

It took them a moment to finally start talking, but they fell into it, eventually. Discussing the boys at first, “little tricksters…” pranking Cori, stealing his glasses, setting the dog loose while they had wine and cheese on the terrace, and finally spooking his horse while he and Dream were out riding so the horse galloped wildly into the brush, knocking the ridiculous blond American off his saddle and into the mud.

Hob tried hiding his snickering behind his hand as Dream recanted these events to Hob, but Dream caught him with a woebegone sigh.

“It’s not funny, he sprained his wrist.”

Hob took a deep inhale, gathering himself.

“After all that wine and cheese, I hope he shit his pants, too.”

“Hob!” Dream snorted inelegantly, slapping a hand over his mouth, which only set Hob off again, laughing in earnest now.

The boys had to move away once they heard the squeaking of their own muffled laughter, both hands over their mouths, wheezing through their teeth.

“You’re just as bad as them,” Dream finally spoke after the giggles had worn off.

Hob shrugged noncommittally, mischievous grin still on as he took a long sip of his wine.

“You like it,” he said confidently, eyes sharp.

Dream said nothing, popping a forkful of beet and pear salad into his mouth.

After appetisers was dinner, then dessert. The time ticked away slowly and the boys eventually moved from their vantage point to the kitchen, asking Mervyn how it was going and the butler shooing them out with barely anything to go off of.

But it was going well, as far as the boys could tell. The conversation between Dream and Hob was flowing steadily, Dream giving out his smile more and Hob unable to take his eyes off of him. The grand finale was coming up and Robyn and Orpheus held their breaths as the jazz flittered out and in its place, a violin came up and both Dream and Hob seemed to seize up at the same time.

Orpheus was beginning to think this was a bad idea, especially as his father sat up ramrod straight, his fingers drumming on the table's surface. And Robyn’s dad looked…

Well, he looked– tortured, was a pretty close description. His lips had parted and he kept looking between Dream and his own hands, which he had begun wringing out in his lap.

“You’re just too good to be true…Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

A male’s voice crooned through the speakers, but Robyn and Orpheus paid it no mind as they silently watched their fathers.

Finally Dream met Hob’s gaze and held it. The boys held their breath, too. Wondering what was going to happen now.

“Do you think they know?” Hob asked quietly, so quiet that Robyn barely heard him speak.

“It’s our wedding song, of course they knew,” Dream sighed, casting his gaze up to the ceiling.

It was Hob’s turn to tap his fingers on the table, thinking, and making his mind up about something as he pushed his chair out and stood.

Orpheus took Robyn’s arm and shook it as Hob stepped up to Dream, dipping slightly and offering his hand.

“Dance with me?”

Dream stared at Hob’s hand, lips parted. Robyn felt himself shaking with the effort to remain calm.

Dream swallowed, Robyn could see from here.

“Do you think this is wise?” he asked in a whisper, eyes flicking up to Hob.

After a moment of tense silence, nothing but the song quietly playing, Hob took a long breath.

“It’s our song, we can’t not dance to it.”

And as if that was sound enough logic, Dream carefully took Hob’s hand, fingers elegantly curling around it, and allowed himself to be pulled up and led to a spacious spot away from the table.

Hob took the lead, using his hold on Dream’s hand to pull him close, the other hand circling his waist and causing Dream’s eyes to flutter shut as he willingly stepped closer, their bodies nearly touching, his own hand resting on Hob’s shoulder.

Robyn and Orpheus could barely watch now, from this angle. They scooted back out into the hallway to find another spot where they could see more clearly.

The only other option was from above, a loft directly above the dining room which was Dream’s study, a place Orpheus wasn’t allowed to be in by himself, but he figured this was a good enough excuse to break that rule.

Orpheus led the way, quiet tiptoeing turning into a full blown sprint up the stairs and around the corner, shushing themselves as they got to the door of his father's office and quietly pushed it open. The music was louder up here, closer to the speakers that hung from the ceiling, so they wouldn’t be able to hear their fathers if they spoke, but they could properly spy on them now without being seen or heard.

Robyn followed Orpheus’ lead and crouched down, crawling forward on his tummy and poking his head out through the railing and peeking below.

Dream and Hob were still swaying to the music, just as close and eyes open, gaze locked to each other. They had picked up momentum now that the song was more than halfway over, the second chorus coming in with trumpets and bringing the rhythm up to something more infectious, more daring as Hob’s grip around Dream’s waist circled around the small of his back, holding him tighter as he began to spin them around the room.

Dream’s long legs kept up as Hob visibly loosened up, leading them in an informal waltz. Robyn caught his dad’s wide, toothy smile every time he turned and he could see his face clearly. His eyes seemed to sparkle. 

Orpheus nudged Robyn. “I’ve never seen my father smile like that.”

Robyn had noticed that Dream was smiling, too. But it was lips only, parting every now and then, like he was holding it back, biting his bottom lip afterwards to keep it at bay. But his eyes lit up in a way that was almost unrecognisable, focused solely on Hob.

Hob’s hand on Dream’s waist dropped, taking his other hand suddenly and taking a step back, turning Dream in his hold so his back was against Hob’s front, and spun him out, Dream following along with a surprised yelp and laughter that the boy’s heard from their vantage point.

When Hob pulled Dream back in, they were closer than before, chests flush together and noses bumping fleetingly. 

The song was coming to an end, fading out as Hob and Dream slowed in their dancing to a standstill. 

Orpheus gasps next to Robyn. “They’re gonna kiss.”

“Shh!” Robyn bumped his elbow to his brother’s side. 

The boys held their breath as the song finally ended and another one started, instrumental jazz again. The men stood so Robyn and Orpheus could see both of them from the side, watching with bated breath as Hob brought up Dream’s left hand and kissed the knuckles, eyes glued to Dream’s.

Hob said something, his lips moving, unable to make out from here, but Robyn could see how Dream’s eyes widened as Hob dropped his hold on the other hand, moving his up to cup the side of Dream’s face.

Hob leaned in, agonisingly slow, eyes half-lidded. 

And was met with Dream turning his face away, so not even the boys could see what expression he gave off.

Hob’s head dipped, defeat radiating off him, his forehead resting solemnly on Dream’s temple.

Robyn had to bite his tongue to hold back the groan of frustration that bubbled up in his throat. All Orpheus’ and his hard work!

Dream swallowed again, his jaw twitching, saying something, to which Hob shook his head, finally dropping his hands and ripping himself away.

“Hob, I’m sorry…” the words barely made it up to the twin’s ears, spoken by Dream, broken and thick.

Hob shook his head again, a painful, false smile plastered onto his face as he took another step back, then another, putting more and more distance between them.

“No…” Orpheus bemoaned, sitting up slightly. “What’s happening?”

Hob said something, quiet, before finally turning around and walking out of the room.

A long, heavy moment permeated the air, made doubly awkward as the music continued to play.

Dream stood, wrapping his arms around his middle.

And the boys simultaneously rolled onto their backs, staring blankly up to the ceiling.

So they missed the way Dream wiped a hand over his eyes, took a steadying inhale, and ran after Hob.

[roguelov]

All Yours

Summary: You and Morpheus were separated for a while to complete different tasks to help the Dreaming. Then, by luck, you run into each other. And quickly realize you can’t keep your hands off of each other. But, Morpheus soon learns something else about you, something you never showed until now - just how much you love making him yours.

Word Count: ~2.7k

Reader: Fem

Warnings: Teasing/flirting, heavily implied smut but no deeds (sub!Morpheus, possessive kink, light choking, dirty talk, very light exhibition)

Requested by a beautiful anon

MINOR DNI/ 18+ ONLY

In the labyrinthian hallway, its high vaulted ceilings stretched far into the heavens, and its handcrafted stone carvings were all markings of elegance. Twists and turns veered off left and right, and strangely - noted only with a keen eye - hidden passages curved downward or upward to unknown places. All of it mysterious, all of it enchanting. Yet, a figure darted through the halls ignoring all its wonders and secrets.

You.

You, in your haste, mumbled to yourself and focused only on your given tasks. Your footsteps mixed with your incoherent mumbling bounced off the extravagant archways, echoing throughout. Only you and your chaotic thoughts. Your fingers danced in the air as you recounted your mental to-do checklist.

Morpheus - reluctantly, after your constant asking - agreed to your help in maintaining the Dreaming. You assigned yourself with menial, odd end jobs; simply anything to lessen Morpheus’s load. And frankly, you enjoyed it. You enjoyed helping him and those around, and also enjoyed the added bonus of him returning to you sooner. He was no longer exhausted, trying to sneak into your shared bedroom under the veil of night. Now, most of his time could be given to you.

Currently, you were on a hunt. A window had shattered in the library, spilling shards everywhere. An accident, truly. Dreamers were unpredictable and always enthralled by what the Dreaming could offer. A few things may be unfortunately damaged along the way. So, you were searching, somewhat frantically, for Merv to ask if he could lend you a broom.

“Merv said he would be …”

Your voice trailed off as you desperately tried to recall where the elusive pumpkin man was hiding. You groaned, taking another turn down the palace hall. Hopefully, or by pure luck, you could run into him.

Luck, instead, brought you someone else.

Morpheus, from out of a hidden passage, stepped out. Your muttering easily caught his ears in the empty hall. Turning his head, he saw your retreating figure. His heart immediately soared, like an infatuated child seeing their school crush. Only a few hours apart and he ached for you - craved you.

He walked - floated - towards you, drawn in by your infectious gravitational pull. His original task was forgotten.

Morpheus’s hand glided across your back, drawing your attention. You perked up, turning your head. Confusion, written so plainly on your face, melted away. The tension in your shoulders instantly dropped. You smiled, wide and beautiful, at him. Your eyes shone with an overflowing love. The world - for a brief moment, just as your eyes connected - was rosy and perfect.

Morpheus’s heart seized at the sight of you. He kissed your cheek. “How are you, my love?”

“I’m good - better now that you are here.”

He chuckled, softly.

Your smile widened. When Morpheus laughed, rarely does it happen, it was a chorus of angels: sweet, melodic, and uplifting. You reached over, cupping his cheek. He leaned into your touch. He turned his head, pressing his lips into the palm of your hand. Oh, how such a simple touch lit a fire inside of you.

You leaned towards him, kissing him passionately.

He hummed.

His lips, soft and rich, moved expertly against yours. It was a perfect meld. His hands cupped your face, bringing you closer. You smiled against his lips. Your hands snaked up, threading into his dark locks - which always called out to you to tug on them. He carefully backed you up against the wall, tucked between two columns out of sight.

You hummed as your back thumped into the hard surface.

His hands wandered down your body, to your waist. He pressed himself into you, trapping you against him. His lips slowly pulled away as you eagerly chased after him. He smiled lovingly. You returned the smile, unable to hide your happiness or love. He dipped his head, and began kissing down your neck.

You sighed deeply. Your hands, still entangled in his hair, tugged on the ends. He hummed, burying his face into your neck.

So long. It had been too long, he thought.

It had been.

You both had been busy these past days - weeks. He missed you, he missed you more than he could articulate.

You tugged his hair, repeating the simple act, but a little harder this second time. He groaned, and gripped your hips white knuckling them. Thrilled by his needy sounds, you bit back a giddy smile. You pulled on his hair once more, and pulled until his face was out from hiding in the crook of your neck. A low moan tumbled off his beautiful rosy lips. His endless sky blue eyes twinkled, excited.

Your heart skipped.

Your hands skimmed down his chest, and pushed him. You easily flipped Morpheus around. Now, his back was pressed up against the wall with you blocking his escape. Surprise passed over his features - a quick jump of his brows. You only smiled, one filled with devious plans.

Morpheus’s chest heaved. His breathing matched your own; or dare you say more erratic as anticipation flooded through his body. Your eyes landed on his parted lips. So enticing, so wondrous. Your gaze flickered back up. Morpheus’s skin buzzed. Your eyes were filled with an undeniable hunger. His heart fluttered in his chest, like a hummingbird needing to escape from its cage. Oh, but he wouldn’t want to. He was happily pinned down, happily pinned to the wall.

You dipped your head, just as he did only seconds ago. Your lips barely skimmed over his neck, a feathery touch. He didn’t fight or protest. He immediately gave himself over. His head fell to the side, giving you easier access.

You smiled against his skin. You started to pepper kiss over his neck, tantalizingly slow. A test.

A tease.

Morpheus sighed as his eyes fluttered closed.

Encouraged by his soft sounds and willingness, you started to be more demanding and suck at his marble crafted skin. The thrill of marking him, here and now, enticed you greatly. Your love bites were to be shown off for all of the Dreaming to see. He was yours, only you could do this to him.

Your teeth grazed over his skin and gently nipped at him.

He let out a breathy moan.

You smirked. You continued, littering his neck with your work - sucking, biting at his neck, and soothing any pains with your hypnotic tongue. You even worked your way to the other side of his neck; nothing would go untouched by you.

Morpheus’s breathing was becoming more and more labored, coming out in short bursts. His hands latched back onto your hips, needing to hold onto you. His fingers dug into you, definitely bruising you as you were bruising him. He drew you close, bucking his hips against yours. The tiny friction was electrical, dizzying.

Oh, how he loved this.

To be at your mercy.

To be yours.

You pulled away, much to Morpheus’s dismay. A predatory smile crossed over your lips. Morpheus’s typically perfect pale skin was now covered in blemishes, blemishes of your doing.

“Well, don’t you look pretty,” you whispered sultry.

Morpheus’s droopy eyes flickered open, glancing up at you. Never, never in all the time he knew you, did he expect this. You never said anything before. But, oh he loved this delicious surprise. You ran a finger over his bruised neck. A faint hum of pain coursed through him. Pain which morphed into pleasure. He shivered under your delicate touch.

“What’s the problem, my sweet king?” Your smirk grew. “Talk to me.”

Before he could speak, your hand flew down cupping his growing bulge.

His head dropped forward onto your shoulder. A whimper, an unbelievable needy whine, fell from his lips. He let out a shaky low breath.

How did you do this to him? How was he rendered into such a state?

Dream of the Endless, King of Nightmares, was at a mortal’s mercy. Every touch set a uncontrollable fire of want and need under his skin. He could feel himself burning from the inside out because of you. Your lips pulled out such carnal desires from him - desires not even his dear sibling could create. Your hands, your light nimble fingers, mapped out his body knowing how to make him sing, to make the world know who he belonged to.

You were his destruction and savior.

“Morpheus,” you purred. “Answer -“

Footsteps echoed.

You whipped away from Morpheus. You peered around the large column to see a shadow casted on the walls and slowly approached you. As the figure walked forward, the iconic round head and orange hue signified it was Mervyn - the person you wanted to find minutes ago before this exciting turn of events. You quickly glanced back at Morpheus. His glassy, dazed, eyes sharpened slightly at the sound. He tried to move - possibly to see who it was and to promptly remove himself from this somewhat embarrassing situation. Yet, you clamped a hand over his mouth, and kept him in place.

“Don’t.” You whispered, sternly.

He froze.

He obliged to your command. With one word, he was rooted in place.

You casually - or as nonchalant as possible - stepped out into view as Merv walked up. Morpheus was completely hidden behind the column, and you appeared to be leaning on it as if you stopped to have a rest. Your hand tucked around the column stayed on Morpheus’s mouth, not wishing to let go.

The pumpkin man cocked his head. “Uh, hey there, (Y/N). I didn’t see you there.”

“Hey, Merv,” you smiled, picture perfect. “You are actually the exact person I was looking for.”

Merv’s face scrunched together. “You were? Why?”

As you began to tell Merv the minor incident that occurred in the library, your hand slowly, inch by inch, crept down from Morpheus’s mouth to around his beautifully sculpted neck. Instantly, Morpheus craned his head back. Once again, he gave himself over. He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky exhale.

Upon hearing him, you gently squeezed. A firm warning: not a single sound.

Morpheus bit the inside of his cheek and swallowed down his growing and apparent desperation.

Merv sighed, “Alright, I’ll go clean it up.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. I would be more than happy to do so, I would just need a broom and a pan,” you cheerfully replied.

Morpheus’s heart sank. You would leave him? Leave him in such a desperate state? A faint, barely notable, whine hummed in the back of his throat.

But, you noticed.

You squeezed his neck - his second warning. His hands flew up and wrapped around your wrist. He needed to touch you, to find ground in his dizzying euphoric state. He carefully removed your hand from his neck, which you allowed - mostly curious as to what he was doing. He brought your hand to his lips, and peppered up your wrist with delicate kisses. It was his way of saying he needed you.

He needed you now.

The only sign you gave was a smile - a minuscule twitch of the corner of your lips.

“If you say so,” Merv huffed. “Less work for me the better. Here I can show you where I keep my stuff.”

“Actually, could you just drop it off in the library? There are a few other things I need to do, something small on my way to the library.”

Merv squinted his eyes as his lips puckered in thought, then he just nodded. “Okay.” He spun around, walking back where he came from. “And you and the boss better not make a mess because I am not cleaning that up.”

Morpheus flinched.

You, however, laughed. “Will do, Merv. Thanks.”

You slid back in front of Morpheus, like the serpent ready to tempt. Your eyes darkened. The air was knocked out of Morpheus’s lung. One look and he was ready to fall to his knees, to grant you your wish. You grabbed Morpheus’s face, drawing him close to you. “Let’s take this elsewhere, my sweet king.” Your lips brushed over his. “Before we upset Merv.”

A couple hours later, Morpheus strolled through the hallways of the winding castle. He was on his way to his studies, or specifically to the beach to work on his new dreams and nightmares. You, on the other hand, had left, making your way to the library to clean up the mess among completing a few other tasks on your list.

Your lips, the memory of it, still ghosted over his skin. It haunted him. His fingers traced over his neck, feeling the tenderness. He laughed once through his nose. You were devious.

“I don’t think I ever mentioned how much I loved seeing you like this.” You murmured, as you straddled him. Your fingers delicately traced over his bruised neck, and down his bare chest where new marks rose. “I did this.”

His chest rumbled as he chuckled. “Yes, you did, my love.”

You bent down, skimming your lips over his. “You’re all mine.”

His hands cupped your face, kissing you. Muttering against your lips, he said, “I am.”

Morpheus was so enwrapped with his memories, with your lingering touches, that he failed to notice Matthew soaring towards him.

“Hey, boss?”

Morpheus blinked, snapping himself out of those pleasant thoughts. He glanced up to see Matthew descend, landing on his shoulder. “Hello, Matthew,” Morpheus greeted.

Matthew had something to tell the King of Dreams, however his thoughts quickly vanished at the sight of Morpheus’s spotted bruised neck. Matthew snickered, “Did you have some fun, boss?”

Morpheus’s brows knitted together, only to smooth out as realization hit. A passive, almost annoyed, look was painted over his steely features. “We are adults here, Matthew.”

Matthew ignored the obvious irritated look Morpheus was giving him. “Sure, but we’re not animals - well, most of us aren’t. And she got you good, sir.” Matthew’s tone said it all, he was gleefully happy to poke at the Endless.

Morpheus rolled his eyes.

“Now, I understand why Merv was in a mood earlier. He was mumbling about the two of you.” Matthew chuckled. “Poor guy probably saw too much.”

Morpheus stayed silent, unwilling to indulge Matthew.

“Do you want some ice, sir? It might help.”

“I can assure you, Matthew, I am perfectly fine.”

Matthew hummed, “Uh-huh, I bet you are. Probably a lot better now.”

“And what are you implying?” Morpheus turned his head, eyeing the raven.

Matthew cocked his head, his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Imply it however you want, sir.”

Morpheus huffed, turning his head. “Do you not have something better to do?”

“I did.” Matthew settled, lowering himself onto Morpheus’s shoulder, content to take place here instead. “But, I can’t remember.”

“Of course,” Morpheus mumbled to himself.

Morpheus continued to stroll down the hall, with a chirper Matthew babbling on his shoulder. He could send the pesky raven elsewhere, but in all honesty he didn’t mind the jokes. All he could think of was hours ago.

“You’re all mine.”

He was yours, and he didn’t want anyone to think otherwise.

And speaking of the devil, you popped up around a corner carrying a broom and pan. You were trying to find Merv again, or find where to put his supplies. It was deja vu all over again. But, you had a sinking feeling Merv didn’t wish to be near you anytime soon.

Your embarrassment, on the other hand, was far and few. You would happily do it all over again.

Glancing around, your eyes landed on the pair. You smiled at them. Morpheus’s face instantly lit up, he returned the smile. A change which Matthew noted and chuckled to himself.

Morpheus ignored him like he had been.

Your eyes dropped, stealing a glance at his marked neck. Your smile widened and you shook your head. As you walked up to them, you said in a sly remark, “You have a little something on your neck, my king.”

“Do I?” Morpheus smiled, pleased to play along with your banter. “How odd.”

You chuckled.

Matthew glanced between the two of you, unable to believe he was witnessing any of this. “Should I leave you two?” He joked.

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, you don’t have to. I actually wanted to ask if either of you happen to know where Merv is or where I can put his stuff?”

“Down the hall. Two lefts then a right, second door on the right.” Morpheus answered.

You beamed. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, my love.”

You started to walk by. You looked to Morpheus then to Matthew, still comfortably perched on his shoulder. Your smile changed into a little smirk, “And Matthew be nice to him, he’s clearly hurt.”

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] On the Edge of a Waking Dream

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Dream) Rated: M Word Count: 3914 Tags: MonsterFucktoberBingo 2023, Dreamling Nation House of Horrors 2023, human Dream, ghost Hob, modern day setting, main character death, technically, is Hob a main character, the prompt is ghost so not DEAD-dead regardless, ghost character, ghost sex, sex toys, anal sex, suicidal ideation, unconventional happily-ever-after, these tags are a very mixed bag, angst in my lighthearted ghost story?, it's more likely than you think, brief appearance by Daniel Hall, brief appearance by Merv

Additional Warning: There is a conversation toward the end that dips into the subject of suicidal ideation. If you need to avoid it, it's the section that begins "Would that I could stay here forever, with you" - skip that whole section and you'll be good.

Notes: Title taken from I'll Be There, by Escape Club, 1991. This song has been on my Ficcable Songs list for more than two decades and finally I've done something with it. I'm…eugh. I think this would be better served as a longfic, but I'm. Not doing that. I'm happier with this now than I was with the initial draft, and that's good enough.

This covers Smoctober Day 9 prompt 'ghost', the Monsterfucktober square for 'ghost', and the Dreamling Nation House of Horrors prompt 'ghost'

Summary: Dream never believed in ghosts until his boyfriend became one

On AO3

~~~ Dream never believed in ghosts.

But then, his boyfriend became one.

Hob, his brash and boastful beautiful Hob, who'd talked of marriage once they were done with university, who'd laughed at the notion of dying and proudly declared he'd live forever. Hob, who had sworn to never leave him, had promised to be there for him always.

The universe had other ideas, unfortunately, but Hob was nothing if not adaptable.

~~~ Dream turned the key in the lock of their shared flat—just his flat, now, he supposed—numb and empty inside after the funeral. Debating the merits of crying in the shower vs going straight to bed (not their bed, not anymore) and crying himself to sleep, he pushed open the door.

The lights flicked on all by themselves.

All of the lights, in every room of the flat.

Which was disconcerting, but he was tired, and emotionally drained, and made a mental note to check with the property manager about the wiring just in case.

The electric teakettle clicked on when he entered the kitchen; convenient, as he had intended a cup of chamomile before trying to sleep, but he added the oddity to his mental note for tomorrow. Tea in hand, he leaned against the counter, gathering the static in his mind to keep from focusing with any clarity on the loss clawing his insides hollow.

When his laptop on the corner desk powered itself on, he nearly dropped his tea. With mounting apprehension he watched as the computer logged him in and…opened Spotify? Then the music started, an old song he knew well, and the apprehension turned to disbelief.

Don't be afraid, oh my love I'll be watching you from above And I'd give all the world tonight, To be with you

"This is absolutely my song," Hob had said once when it came on. "Guy loved his partner so much he refused to go when death came for him? That'd be me."

"I thought you planned to live forever?" Dream had teased, gently, and Hob had grinned.

"Well yeah, that is the plan. But if it turns out I can't, then…sticking around as a ghost, that's my contingency plan." His smile had turned warm, tender, and he'd brushed a knuckle down the side of Dream's face. "I've got to see you're getting on okay if I'm gone, haven't I?"

Because I'm on your side, And I still care I may have died, But I've gone nowhere Just think of me, And I'll be there

"Hob," Dream whispered, tears welling, something like hope sticking in his throat, and the lamp on the desk flickered. "Is that you?"

The lamp blinked out and back on, twice, and Dream let out a sob. 'Twice' had always been their non-verbal and discretionary code for affirmation, blinking or shoulder taps or hand squeezing, and the warm sense of relief that poured over Dream at this confirmation was overwhelming. "Hob…how is this possible? Am I losing my grip on reality?"

The wireless mouse moved, waggled side to side in a clear imitation of shaking one's head 'no'.

"How is this possible," Dream murmured again, turning over and over the idea that ghosts could be real, that Hob could be one. "You died; I buried you. How can you be here?"

The mouse moved in a slow deliberate arc, sketching the shape of a heart.

Oh, there's no need to cry Just think of me, And I'll be there

Dream's throat closed up and he let out a sound half-laugh, half-sob as the song soared into its final chorus.

The mouse scooted across the desk, nudged the box of tissues closer.

Hob had so often talked about taking care of him; Hob had promised to never leave him.

Hob had, apparently, refused to go when Death came for him. "You were always a man of your word," Dream murmured, sniffling through a smile, and the light in the kitchen flickered happily.

~~~ Living with a ghost was surprisingly easy to adjust to, once he accepted the reality of it. He always had someone to talk to, and they quickly discovered that the notes app on his phone, or his computer, was a viable conduit for Hob to talk back when he felt like it. Dream's earbuds were always charged, his music library always managed to pull up exactly the right song for his mood, he never had to worry about whether he'd left the lights or the stove on and, annoyingly, his phone and computer always turned off at exactly the hour Hob had insisted on for a decent sleep schedule. But in all honesty, healthier sleep habits were a fair price to pay for having Hob back in some form when Dream had thought him lost.

Hob looked after him, made sure he kept living and thriving, and Dream threw himself into researching ghosts and spirits and how to attune oneself to them. Herbs and alignments and meditative practices, Dream tried them all and little by little, the more he learned, the more he began to feel the physical presence of Hob in their flat. A breath, a scent, a diffuse sense of warmth and calm, an overall impression that this was home and Hob was here.

~~~ "What was it like, dying?" he asked one day, during a lull in his research. He minimized the webpage and brought up the notes app. "If you don't mind talking about it, that is." He trusted Hob to tell him otherwise; communicating and respecting boundaries had always been easy between them. The cursor started moving a couple seconds later.

It would be impossible to discuss the subject without a common frame of reference.

Dream burst out laughing at that, the terrible hiccuping bray that Hob had adored, and a little old-school smiley emote appeared on the screen. But before Dream could draw breath to quote the next line back to Hob (You mean I have to die to discuss your insights on death??), the cursor was moving again.

Kidding. Not much to tell. Was a lady there, kind face, beautiful wings. Held out her hand, and I knew if I took it I'd never see you again. So I refused.

"And you were permitted to just…say no?"

Lady gave me a sad smile, said I couldn't go back; told her I couldn't go forward, either, not if it meant leaving you. When I promised I would never.

Dream could feel his eyes welling up and blinked, swallowed the lump in his throat.

She let me stay in between. Not perfect, but I don't have to leave. Can't leave you.

"I love you," Dream said, voice wavering. "I love you, Hob, I miss you but I'm so glad I still have you—" A little sob escaped, his eyes spilling over.

Death cannot stop true love, Hob typed then, in swooping pink script on the screen, and Dream could only smile through his tears as he answered.

"All it can do is delay it for a little while."

~~~ Dream kept seeking knowledge and Hob kept developing proficiency in being a ghost, more practice in interacting with the world and making himself known; soon enough Dream could genuinely feel Hob there, physically—a wisp of air against his skin, the phantom brush of lips to his temple, a full-body shiver of warmth when drifting off to sleep. He'd feel Hob like an embrace from behind while fixing his breakfast, while practicing his cello, while showering. Sometimes he would touch himself under the spray, stroke it to hardness and feel, unmistakably, the wispy grip of Hob's hand over his, the faint nudge of a phantom prick against his arse, an invisible mouth laving kisses to the back of his neck.

"You can manipulate any electronics, right?" he asked one evening, and when the lamp on his bedside table dimmed and brightened twice in the affirmative, he undressed and brought out the vibrator he had purchased the day before, knelt over on the bed, pressed the toy into his slick and opened body. "Then please, Hob—be with me, like this, have me, I still want—"

The toy jumped to life with a buzz and Dream gasped, shifted, rocked his hips as Hob cycled through every power setting and vibration pattern until he found the combination that made Dream shiver and squirm and grasp helplessly at the bedsheets, surrounded by the not-quite-there feeling of Hob draped over him, fingers twined with his, lips soft at the back of his neck as he surrendered to the onslaught of sensation.

He drifted off to sleep afterward with a soft smile on his face, the feel of Hob's arms around him and Hob murmuring "G'night, dove, I'll keep you safe" in his ear.

When he woke, the whisper of revelation was stirring at the back of his mind but it didn't click until he heard a soft "Good morning, beautiful" in Hob's dear voice and sat bolt upright, duly stunned.

"Hob! You can talk!?"

Nothing, for an instant, and then, still soft: "Dream? Can you…you can hear me now?"

"Yes!" he cried, overjoyed, and let the tears stream down his face as he heard Hob's happy laughter surrounding him, disembodied but bright and brilliant, for the first time in months.

~~~ Together they continued their studies, carefully experimenting with ways to thin the veil between worlds safely and securely. Hob's physical presence got stronger, more tangible as the days passed. His touch was never cold like so many sources claimed; it was warm, like lifting one's face to the morning sun in the first days of Spring, like the comfort of snuggling into the blankets on a winter evening.

Nothing about his Hob could ever be cold.

All his studies indicated that a ghost attaining visibility took time, and strength of will from the spirit, and 'openness' on the part of the living—which Dream had interpreted as willingness to believe that one might see a ghost. He did believe, wholeheartedly, knew without a doubt that Hob was still here with him and would eventually be ghost enough to manifest visibly.

It happened one night when Dream was drifting between awake and asleep; there, in that liminal state, he caught a glimpse of Hob for just an instant. It stole his breath, the sight of Hob before him again after all this time; Hob smiled at him, blindingly beautiful, and then he faded out and Dream woke, eyes wet, his own smile soft on his face.

"Hob?" he called, barely more than a murmur, and immediately the warm comfort of Hob's arms around him took hold.

"'M here," came Hob's disembodied voice, close to his ear. "Did you see me there, in between?"

"Yes," Dream breathed, emotion swelling within him. "You were. So beautiful. How I've missed the sight of you, Hob—" He turned, wanting to burrow into the warmth of Hob beside him, knowing there was nothing really there enough to accommodate his want.

"Sweet talker," Hob said, and then there were soft insubstantial lips touching his and Dream sighed into the phantom kiss, arching, reaching. Invisible fingertips traced his jaw, touched his throat, trailed down and brushed a nipple and Dream let a needy sound spill from him.

"Hob," he pleaded, keyed up, wanting, and felt more than heard the way Hob hummed in reply. And then the suggestion of a leg was pushed between his, urging him over onto his back and hands were stroking feather-light down his sides, a ghostly mouth moving beneath his ear. Dream whimpered, kicked free of the bedclothes, hooked his thumbs in his pajama bottoms and wriggled fluidly to get them down and off, laid back and spread his limbs and gave himself over to the slow sensual stoking of his pleasure.

Hob took his time as much by design as necessity, needing focus and intent to manage physical touch but also clearly delighting in the leisurely build of driving Dream higher and higher. He was skilled at it, also, had Dream trembling and moaning long before his ghostly tongue touched Dream's prick. It was hard, leaking, and Dream rocked into the wispy sensation of Hob's mouth around him, Hob's hands caressing the insides of his thighs, Hob's fingertips tracing intimately along the creases of his body.

Hob's touch was exquisite, erotic, and Dream was certain that with hours to enjoy it he would surely reach climax, but neither of them had that sort of patience just now. "Get the vibe, sweetheart," Hob said at last, and Dream scrambled to comply, retrieving it from the bedside drawer. "Open yourself up for me, need to watch you come undone—"

Breathless, Dream lubed the toy and pushed it in, bore down and gripped it tightly in anticipation, knees raised, waiting for Hob—

The toy turned on and Dream's head lashed back as sudden pleasure poured through him. "There you are," he vaguely heard Hob murmur, "my darling beautiful Dream—"

One day, Dream vowed, shaking as Hob cycled the toy into the perfect pulsing intensity that made him writhe and wail, one day, he would come from Hob's ghostly touch alone.

~~~ They met in waking dreams again, and again, each meeting strengthening their connection, anchoring them securely to one another across the veil. "Oh, my love, my precious dove," Hob murmured, when they managed to hold onto one another for more than a second, and then Hob's mouth was pressed against his, opening, warm—

He woke to the feel of Hob kissing him still, only less substantial, but as he opened his eyes, he caught a soft glimmer of Hob's face above him, hazy, barely there, and his heart skipped a beat.

"I can see you," he murmured against phantom lips, not daring to blink, breath held—but Hob drew back in surprise, in excitement, and his faint image flickered out. Dream sighed and let his eyes fall closed once more. "We'll keep trying. Come kiss me again?"

~~~ "Would that I could stay here forever, with you," Dream lamented, drifting on the edge of waking up, curled into Hob's embrace.

He felt the way that Hob went still and tense.

"You seem the most real here," he explained, "and I am. So tired, of not being able to properly touch you. Except here."

"I'm getting better at being substantial out there," Hob said, a very careful edge in his voice. "Be patient, dove, we'll get there."

"Or I could simply sleep forever, and never be without you again."

"You aren't without me now. I'm not going anywhere, Dream. You have me. Forever. What you're talking about is—" Hob stopped abruptly, unwilling to voice the thought.

"I know." Dream couldn't bring himself to look Hob in the eye, mumbled into the familiar comfort of Hob's hairy chest instead. "I wonder, sometimes, if…it might be worth it."

Hob vanished, and it was a sharp enough jolt that Dream woke completely.

Every light in the flat was flickering madly as Dream stumbled ouf of the bedroom; the smoke and CO detectors were screeching their alarm, his laptop sounding some kind of alert and the air conditioning unit in the window powering off and on repeatedly.

"Hob!" Dream tried to raise his voice above the din. "Hob, stop!"

The teakettle started up a sustained whistle and then Spotify kicked in with some metal band he couldn't immediately name, thrashing guitars and guttural screaming vocals, and Dream had to cover his ears. "Hob! HOB!"

It was another full minute of this cacophony, and then abruptly everything stopped. Plunged back into grey morning dimness and silence, Dream took a steadying breath, two.

"…Hob?" His voice, when it came, was small and tentative.

The kitchen light flickered sullenly, twice.

"Hob. I don't…I'm not—" He floundered; the words weren't coming.

"C'mere." He felt the swoop of Hob rushing past him, and followed him back to the bedroom. "C'mere," Hob repeated, from the bed, and Dream crawled up to sit against the headboard. The faint sense of Hob's arm settled around his shoulders and Dream felt the inevitable tears welling up.

"Sorry for throwing a tantrum," Hob's voice said, low and soft with sincerity. "It's just. You scared me. What you said." Dream felt lips brush his hair, holding there in a desperate approximation of a kiss.

"I know." Dream blinked, and the tears spilled over. "I don't mean it, but…"

"But it's crossed your mind."

Dream wiped his eyes. "Yes."

"I stayed to see you live your life, not to take it away from you." Hob's voice was shaky now, as if he was also crying—could ghosts cry?—and Dream could feel Hob's other arm across his chest, Hob holding him close, clinging to him. "Dream—I love you, I love you so much. And you have everything ahead of you. Please, please don't start thinking you're better off giving it all up. We don't even know if you'd wind up same as me—"

Dream closed his eyes, breathed slow and even. It was not that he wished, particularly, to die; it was simply that he wished to be with Hob more than he wanted anything else.

Except, perhaps, to not bring Hob pain or distress.

"I…am an amateur, at these occult studies," Dream said at last, eyes still closed. "It will take a lifetime of research and learning to ensure that I can share in your afterlife, that I will not leave you behind. I will need to live a very long life, to be. Certain."

"…Yes," came Hob's voice, steadier now but still with a trembling edge of wariness underneath. "Yes. You will."

"And I will need your help. To research, but also to remind me to eat, to buy groceries, to go to bed on time."

"Of course. You'll have it, anything and everything I can do to help. Promise me you won't give up."

"Hob," Dream breathed, because he had opened his eyes, and Hob was glimmering faintly there beside him—visible, if only just. "Hob—"

"Promise," Hob interrupted, lifting his head to look Dream in the eye, and Dream could see the exact second when he realized Dream was not looking through him, but at him.

"I will live to be ninety, I promise," he said, a little bit breathless, a little wrung out, very much elated. "Hob, I can see you—"

The smile on Hob's face, the way he glowed with joy, pushed every other thought from Dream's head, and when Hob leaned in for an ecstatic-if-still-a-touch-watery kiss, Dream's heart soared at how easily they connected.

~~~ Hob's visual manifestation in the waking world grew more and more frequent as the days went on, steadier, more solid in appearance. Strong emotion, they confirmed, was an excellent catalyst and soon enough he could maintain a weak-but-persistent shade, always a bit more distinct from the corner of Dream's eye than straight on. The more he practiced the better he got, at being both visually and tangibly solid, holding his presence, managing touch. Dream never minded that he always remained a bit transparent; he was there, still here, still with Dream, to whom he had promised forever.

~~~ "Still mine?" Hob asked many years later, float-lying half on top of him in bed, idly combing through the emerging greys of his hair, and Dream smiled.

"I can't imagine ever being anyone else's," he breathed, lifting a hand to touch Hob's face. He still had to be careful, to focus; it was all too easy for his hand to go right through Hob which was disconcerting for them both. But he was very good at it by now, and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind Hob's ear tenderly. "I don't want to be anyone else's."

"You don't have to be," Hob promised, drifting up to look down into his eyes. "I'm here, I'm yours, forever, as long as you'll have me."

"Forever," Dream echoed, smiling with the joy of it, and drew Hob down for a delicate heartfelt kiss.

~~~ "Sorry, kid, ain't got no vacancies."

Daniel's shoulders slumped, disappointed. The White Horse building was perfectly situated for getting to campus and he'd been told there was always at least one flat open, but apparently he was given incorrect information.

"Unless…" The guy in the property office tilted his head back, scratched under his scruffy chin, cigar caught between his teeth. "I mean, there is the haunted unit, 'salways empty…"

Daniel perked up. "Haunted unit?" He'd been drawn to the unusual all his life, fascinated by the paranormal, intrigued by the macabre. If this was true—

"Yeah." The guy slanted a look at him. "Last tenant—last tenant who stayed more'n a couple'a weeks, at least—was this old guy, lived there for decades. Him'n his boyfriend, they moved in when they were young but then the boyfriend died, an' the other guy just stayed the rest of his life, alone. Was a hundred n' five when he finally passed, and that was back in '89. Flat's been empty ever since. Folk'll move in, but it don't take long 'til they're backin' out on the lease. Lights won't work right, electronics're unpredictable, weird moanin' and screamin' noises in the walls, some even talk about apparitions they can't ever see straight-on but're always in the corner of the eye, in the shadows. Me, I don' believe'n none of it, never seen nor heard anything'f the sort, but regardless I can't keep anybody in there—"

"I'll take it," Daniel interrupted, excitement bubbling up in his stomach. A haunted flat? Could he be any luckier? "That is—if I may?"

"Look, kid, you wanna give it a shot? Go for it. Come on in, I'll draw up the paperwork. 'F you stay, I'll give ya a super steep discount—any rent comin' in's better'n none, heh!" He turned and stumped back into his office, still cackling and muttering; Daniel followed, mind racing.

If there was a ghost, a real ghost, it was probaby the boyfriend, who'd maybe been there all along and now didn't want anyone living in his and his lover's space. And Daniel was no true medium, but he'd grown up learning all kinds of 'alternative science' stuff from his mom's friends, so maybe he'd have a decent chance of communicating with the ghost, helping it find peace and move on.

He was half right. It was the boyfriend, but it was also the old man. Whose ghost was that of his younger self—and yes, Daniel was able to talk to them. Also, they had absolutely no intention of moving on. They were lovely, actually, had no problem with Daniel living there once they got to know him, willingly worked out a sort of 'roommate agreement' with him. Merv down in the property office made good on his promise of cheap rent, and Daniel's ghosts were always making sure the flat was in order, bills tracked and paid, cupboards stocked and groceries delivered, homework reminders set where he needed them and homework assistance given when asked. It was like…like having two dads, when he'd grown up without, and Daniel was hard-pressed to imagine how his life could possibly be better.

(He could do without the occasional auditory glimpse into their love life, but…well. Most of the time they were very good about not leaking across the veil in intimate moments, and ultimately who was he to begrudge them their eternal happiness?)

=== Started: 10/9/23 Drafted: 10/10/23 Additional Drafting: 10/27/23 Posted: 10/28/23

I have not read any of Daniel's canon material; my apologies if his voice sounds terribly wrong. Cookies for anyone who recognizes the movie quotes Hob used ❤️

[gooddaysmeanwritingdays]

A Smile Like Yours is a Rare Delight

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dream of the Endless x gn!Reader Warnings: allusions to sex, Morpheus’s smile (needs its own warning), reader being overdramatic, all the fluff Word Count: 3.5k Summary: Even after a year of marriage, Morpheus’s smile still has the power to drive you crazy. One day, it’s too much and you have to flee to Fiddler’s Green. Dream races after you, and fluff ensues when he realises just how much you love his smile.

“Come ti vidi m'innamorai, e tu sorridi perché lo sai." (When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew) ― Arrigo Boito

You didn’t know how much longer you could handle it. It was all getting too much. Even a minute more would be too much.

“My Lord, you must control your new nightmares.”

“Must I?” Morpheus’s lips twitched further into a smile, and you nearly died at the sight.

Lucienne frowned; her hands wrapped around a mangled book. “They are wreaking havoc in my Library.”

His smile. It was perfect. Your favourite thing in the world. And it was killing you.

All you wanted to do was squeal or grab his face in your hands or just stare at him for the rest of eternity, but you were in the middle of the throne room. That was the last place you could do that. Lucienne had come to the Dream Lord with complaints about his new nightmares tearing through some of the older books in her collection, and the only thing that had kept her from tearing through them was respect for her master.

You stood off to the side half-listening to Merv muse through the construction designs for the new aquarium. The other half of your mind was occupied by how perfect Dream of the Endless looked atop his throne. There was a tottering pile of books on the left arm of his chair and his coat was thrown over the back of it. His hair stood on end as it always did, and you wanted nothing more than to run your hands through it, to see just how much you could mess it up.

But his smile was what took the cake. You didn’t see it often, so every time you did breathing became impossible. Even just the amusement in his eyes when he was smug or teasing, or the way the corner of his lips would twitch up like he was laughing at everything—oh, you loved those smiles. And he wore one now, hence your ensuing death.

Because you had to at least act sane. And squealing over your darling���s smile in the middle of the throne room would be anything but.

So instead, you squeezed your hands together and took a deep breath.

Deep breath. Don’t be crazy. Don’t look like an idiot. Yes, his smile is enough to send you into cardiac arrest, but you just need to hold on for a few more minutes. And then you can take him away for as long as you like.

Like he could guess your thoughts, Morpheus’s eyes flicked to yours and his smile softened.

Nope. I can’t do it.

“Excuse me a minute, my Lord, Lucienne, Merv.” You dipped your head and spun on your heel, interrupting their conversations.

You didn’t wait for any of their responses, just darted out the doors. The moment they closed behind you, you took off. You paid no mind to where you were heading, just away. You just needed some fresh air. Somewhere to get your mind off jumping his bones immediately.

You hand closed around your pendant, and in a sudden swirl of sand, you found yourself in Fiddler’s Green. It had been a gift from your husband a few months ago; a drop of his powers etched into the ruby remarkably reminiscent of his own former tool. It allowed you to travel the Dreaming as he did and gave you a means of communicating with him if you were apart.

Right now, you were just glad it had allowed you to get out of there with your head intact.

You took a deep breath and let the fresh air of Fiddler’s Green into your lungs. You flopped down into the grass and let out a huge sigh.

“Everything alright, dear?” Fiddler’s Green whispered, his leaves rustling in concern.

“It’s been a year—you’d think I’d be used to it!” You dropped a hand to your face. “But I swear every time he does it it’s like I’m seeing him again for the first time. My heart pounds and it’s like I can hear angels singing. The world could come crashing down around me and I wouldn’t notice. All because he smiled.”

“Ah.” Fiddler’s Green chuckled knowingly. “Well Lord Morpheus does so rarely smile; I can see why you would have such a reaction.”

“But he is my husband! We’ve certainly done a lot more mind-blowing things than smiling.”

“I’m aware,” came the dream’s dry response. “I doubt there’s a space in the Dreaming that has not been christened by your…activities.”

You snorted. “How many times have we apologised?”

“Not enough, my dear. That image will remain with me forever.” The trees shivered before he cleared his throat. “What is it about his smile that is affecting you so?”

You sighed again, staring up at the clouds. “I just think sometimes I’m so in love with him I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve never loved someone as much as I love him. And today it just seems that his smile is what gets me.” You stretched against the grass. “I wonder if he ever gets like that with me.”

“Perhaps you should ask him yourself.”

You sat up in time to see your husband appear in a cloud of hurried sand a few feet away. “My heart?” He crouched by your side, his hands reaching for you. “What is wrong?”

I am so in love with you it drives me crazy.

“Nothing, darling.” You leaned into his touch, smiling softly. “I just needed some air.”

Morpheus seemed unconvinced. “But you looked overwrought and overwhelmed. Tell me, what is on your mind?”

You looked away, your cheeks burning. “Nothing. It’s silly.”

It was silly. Saying it out loud to Fiddler’s Green was one thing, but admitting it to your husband? Surely he would think you ridiculous. You’d been married for a year and sometimes you still got so worried you would upset him, push him away. After all, he was Dream of the Endless, and you were a human—how could you not expect to screw up?

Especially since you hadn’t exactly met under the best circumstances. 

His sibling, Desire, had brought the two of you together with the intention you would be Morpheus’s downfall. They had intended you to break his heart into a million pieces, but instead you’d fallen in love.

And by some wonder, he’d fallen in love with you too. Something he proved at every turn. He would take away your doubts and replace them only with the surety of his undying love. And it may have been fast by all normal comparisons, but there was nothing about your husband that was normal—nor would you want there to be. He truly was magnificent. And all yours.

He cupped your cheeks in his hands like you were entirely invaluable to him. “Do not hide your thoughts from me. Please. I want to know all of you.”

You make me feel like I’m the centre of your universe.

Your blushed deepened as you gave in. “I’m in love with you. Absolutely head over heels in love with you. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself.”

The worry in his eyes lessened as that beautiful smile of his came out. “I love you too. My heart is yours ever and always.” His thumb brushed a burning path along your cheek. “But that was not what embarrassed you and forced you to flee my throne room like Lucifer themself was chasing you.”

You groaned slightly, dropping your head awkwardly into his chest. “It’s your smile. I like it.”

The way he raised his eyebrow was practically audible. “My smile? That is what made you run?”

“I told you it doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled. “I just got overwhelmed by it and I had to leave before I did something crazy like scream or jump your bones.”

“My smile?” He sounded truly flabbergasted. “That was it?”

“Don’t tease me!” You poked his chest with mock indignation. “Have you ever looked in the mirror, young man? That smile of yours could stop traffic! Launch a thousand ships!”

He chuckled. “I apologise, my heart.” He cradled your hand in his and pulled you into his lap. He sat cross-legged on the grass, his arms holding you as close to him as he could. “I did not mean to offend. I just did not expect you to be as affected with me as I am with you.”

You blinked at him. “I affect you?”

“Do you truly believe you don’t?” His eyes searched yours and he let out a soft breath as he found his answer. “I am wholly taken with you. Every part of my being is dedicated to you and every piece of my heart belongs to you.” He dropped his forehead against yours. “You say my smile sends you mad? Every breath you take sends tremors through my being and just a glance from you could end me. Your smile alone steals my breath, and your touch stops my heart. Had I been mortal I would have died a thousand times over from my obsession of you.”

You wet your lips, breathless at his words. “Really?” You couldn’t believe it. “But you’re Endless. You’ve lived thousands of lives and seen the dreams of people a million times more interesting than me.” You swallowed down the sudden wave of insecurity. “So why did I catch your eye? What’s so special about me?”

Is it because Desire said we’d be the perfect match? Is that it? Is what caught your eye just Destiny’s plans? Just your siblings’ designs that you’ve decided to follow? Will you leave me when you realise the only thing special about me is—

“Everything.”

Your breath caught and the edges of his lips curled upwards slightly.

“Even before I knew you you fascinated me. The way you stand up for what you believe in, and for the people you love. The way you don’t back down when things get awkward.” He rested his forehead against yours and your chest squeezed at the absolute adoration in his eyes. “You walk into a room and you have my undivided attention. Even the way you argue with me when you think I’m wrong delights me.” He cupped your face to stroke his thumb over your cheek. “You caught my eye because you are you. Because everything about you is strong, unique and certain. Even if we were not destined to be together, my heart would still belong to you. Because, of the billions of dreamers I have seen, none of them are you.”

Your eyes filled with tears and your throat felt tight at his words. “Oh.”

He brushed his nose against yours. “Yes.”

You bit your lip, laughing slightly and swallowing back your tears. “You have a way with words darling. But I guess they don’t call you the Prince of Stories for nothing.”

He smiled fondly as your arms wrapped around his neck. His slid his face forward until his cheek rested against yours, and you breathed each other in. In the peace of Fiddler’s Green, you stayed in each other’s arms and soaked in every atom of devotion the other gave.

After a while, he pulled back, his hands on your hips again, to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “You needn’t have left, my heart. You could have stayed in the throne room. I would have sent everyone out had I known.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t want to bother you with it. That’s why I left. I didn’t want to interrupt your duties.”

“You occupy my mind every second of every day. You would occupy my mind even if you were in the farthest corner of the universe.” He cupped your cheeks and your eyes fluttered at his touch. “You could never bother me. I cherish every moment with you, even when we are both busy. And I want you with me all of the time. If I had my way, I would create a throne entirely for you to sit on and I would lavish at your feet for the rest of eternity.”

“I could just sit on your lap.” You shrugged like his words weren’t sending your heart crazy. Like you weren’t melting into him with every devoted sentence.

Morpheus hummed in consideration, his sinful lips curving, and you remembered Fiddler’s Green words about your…activities. “Meetings would certainly be less of a bore if you did.”

One of his hands dropped to your waist and his thumb slipped under the hem of your shirt, leaving a trail of heat along your skin where he touched. His eyes glimmered as he imagined just what could happen in such a position.

You fingers curled into the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer to mouth at the skin of his throat. “Lucienne might take offence if I strip you naked in the middle of the throne room.” Your lips trailed a path down the length of his throat, and you revelled in how he jolted beneath you. You didn’t know if it was your actions or the abrupt image you painted that had him reacting, but you weren’t going to stop. “Not that it would be the first time she’s caught us with you at my mercy.”

You ground your hips against his and surged up to swallow his gasp.

The taste of his lips against yours was as intoxicating as the first time. Better even. Back then you had been unsure of everything, but now you knew how Morpheus loved to be pushed back gently while you straddled his lap. You knew how he loved entwining your fingers with his and using his tongue to make you arch into him. Just like how you knew he always liked to be on top.

“Then I shall build her a new wing to the library.” He rolled you over until he hovered above you and began torturing you with his mouth. His hands cradled yours above your head and every inch of his body was pressed against yours as his lips passed a burning line along your collarbone. He bit lightly at the base of your throat, and you arched into him with a moan. “And I shall build her another when we are caught in the kitchens, because you never can keep quiet when my mouth is—”

“My Lord?” Far too close for comfort, Matthew cleared his throat.

Morpheus froze above you and you sighed. Just when the fun was starting.

“What?”

Matthew’s feathers rustled at the Dream Lord’s impatient tone, and you wondered just how awkward the bird was feeling. “Lucienne is asking, ah, if you’ll be long. Caw!” He shifted again. “She wants to know what you plan to do about the Nightmares in her library.”

“Tell Lucienne that I am comforting my beloved,” he growled, making you shiver at his tone and the tantalising brush of his lips against your skin. “And I do not appreciate being interrupted.”

His lips found their place once more at the pulse of your throat, and you threaded your fingers through the wild mess of his hair.

Unfortunately, Matthew wasn’t so easily deterred. “She said you’d say that—caw! —and she said to remind you of the promise you’d made after—‘The Nightmare of Aisle Seven’ as she put it.”

You blushed heavily and your husband dropped his face into the crook of your neck with a groan. ‘The Nightmare of Aisle Seven’ had been one of the more…strenuous activities you’d been caught in. It had taken a full month before Lucienne stopped glaring at the pair of you for that.

Morpheus sighed. “Tell Lucienne I shall be with her in a moment.”

“But—”

He lifted his head to glare at Matthew. “Leave. Now.”

Matthew escaped quickly with a squawk, and you licked your lips delightedly at the furious stars still in the Dream Lord’s eyes as he turned back to you. You cradled his face in your palms and ached with the need to surge up to meet him again. But you couldn’t test Lucienne. Not after the promise.

Like he was thinking the same, Morpheus dropped his head back into the crook of your neck with a sigh and settled heavily against you.

“Thank you,” Fiddler’s Green whispered to the raven as he flew away. “If they’d gotten any further, I was prepared to escape to the Waking World again.”

“It seems I have some subjects to banish to the darkness,” your husband murmured petulantly into your neck. “Maybe then they’ll end these treasonous interruptions.”

You grinned. “Ah but the threat of being interrupted makes it so much more intense.” You wound your fingers through his hair, biting your lip at the stutter of his breath when you pulled against his locks. “Don’t you think, my darling?”

“You are a menace, my heart.” He placed a kiss on your collarbone that sent shivers down your spine. Pulling away, he smiled down at you and your heart fluttered for another reason entirely. His gaze softened. “What is it about my smile you like so much?”

You melted beneath him. When you had first met him, he had been so distant, like he had to keep himself separate from everyone or he’d break, but as you’d fallen in love with him, you’d had the pleasure of watching him melt. You’d gotten to watch him lower his walls. And it made you melt with pride at how far he had come. Never in a million years would the pre-you Morpheus have asked for a compliment.

You stroked his cheek, watching in soft delight as he leaned into your touch. “You don’t smile often, but when you do, I swear my heart stops. It’s like the stars align and everything’s perfect when you smile. And I don’t get to see it often, so when I do, I just can’t help myself. I want to see you smile all the time. I want to make you smile all the time. I just—” you shrugged. “I just really like your smile. Plus…” you wound your fingers though his hair “…when you do that thing where you tilt your head and smile through your eyelashes— It makes me want to jump your bones.”

He chuckled a little. “Then I shall endeavour to smile more, my heart, if you like it so much.”

You grinned, scratching lightly at his scalp. He dropped his forehead against your cheek and purred ever so softly at the scratch of your nails.

“You smile more too.” He brushed his fingers across your cheek after a moment. “Since joining me here.”

It was true. In truth you felt like you hadn’t stopped since you’d fallen in love with him. Everything about him, about the Dreaming made your cheeks ache with how often you smiled. When you weren’t laughing with Merv and Matthew or smiling over new passages in the library with Lucienne, you were lost staring at Morpheus and his own smiles.

You reached up to cup his cheeks. “How could I not? When I have such a beautiful sight before me.” He leaned closer, his lips hovering over yours, before you pulled away suddenly, gesturing at the greenery around you. “I mean Fiddler’s Green is just so beautiful I can’t not—”

Morpheus cut you off with a kiss, his laughter rumbling over your skin.

After many many (and not enough) kisses, Morpheus pulled back.

“We must resume this later,” his words rumbled across your lips. “I fear I must leave you to your beautiful sight, my heart—I have nightmares to rescue. If I linger any longer, Lucienne may remove them herself.”

You hummed, not ready to let go just yet. “Surely they can hold their own for a little longer. I’m not done yet.” You pulled him down for another kiss, revelling in the feel of his smile against your skin, before you pulled back, sighing. “No. They crossed a line when they went after her books, it’ll be a miracle if she hasn’t ripped into them already.” You shuddered. “Never cross a Librarian.”

“Particularly not that Librarian.” Morpheus was as unwilling as you to leave your arms. “She once locked me in my room for folding the corner of a book.”

That was enough to make you pull back. “You did what?” You stared at him aghast. “I’d have locked you in your room too!”

He shook his head, laughing as he pulled you both to your feet.

Did he think you were joking? That was a book crime! The wors—

Your thoughts quickly broke off as you were suddenly distracted by the tantalising brush of his lips against yours.

“Hurry back, darling,” you whispered into his mouth.

“To have one such as you waiting for me, I will be faster than ever.”

A/N: I love writing his dialogue in bold. I love it so much.

A/N: I have quite a few Sandman fics planned, but ADHD does not equal a solid attention span, so maybe by season 2? 😅 Anyway, hope you enjoyed. This one has been sitting in my draft pile for a while

Reblogs and comments are much loved and appreciated 💖

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Happy weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The car comes to a stop. It takes you a minute to notice as you reel yourself back to reality. You blink through the tinted window as Merv turns the music down; a song about glory days or something. 

“Here we are,” he announces and cranes to look back at you, “have fun, miss.” 

“Have fun...” you whisper to yourself in confusion, “what? Where do I go?” 

He laughs, not mockingly, and he points through the window, “well, you’ll want to go into that restaurant and give them Mr. Barnes’ name. They’ll sort you out, I’m sure.” 

“Oh,” your brows draw together. A restaurant. What? 

You undo your seatbelt hesitantly and peer out through the glass again. This is strange. You’ve only had a few interviews and most of them were in cramped backrooms or closets. You pull the handle and let yourself out, thanking Merv before you step up on the curb. 

You shut the car door and hook your bag over your shoulder. You stare up at the restaurant’s marquee. It’s a bistro of some sort. Upscale by your measure, thought you have little experience beyond chain joints and fast food. The white facade with its tall windows is intimidating as you approach the entrance. 

As you step inside, you’re all but assured that you don’t belong. A woman greets you with a pearly smile, her hair in a wispy bun, as she sports a flowery white dress. You look back and forth as she cradles a tablet in one arm. 

“Do you have a reservation?” She asks. 

You look down at yourself. That’s a generous assumption. You don’t know how she’s not telling you to leave. 

“Erm, I... I think I’m looking for someone,” you say, “Mr. Barnes?” 

“Barnes, yes, party for two,” she taps the screen, “he’s waiting. Won’t you follow me?” 

She spins on her heels and strolls away. She’s tall and gorgeous, just like the woman at the casino. You peer around and find no less finery and beauty among the staff and diners. The table are all white and polished and the walls are hung with abstract paintings of heaping fruit and bright cocktails. You’ve never seen brunch done so extravagantly. 

You nearly trip as you look ahead just before you reach the stairs. The hostess climbs ahead of you. You envy her modelesque figure. How is she stuck here? She’s breathtaking. She could be in magazines. 

More importantly, where are you going? 

Several flights and you emerge into the open air. You've never been on a rooftop. You’ve seen things like these in movies. There’s a bar center to the space and tables beneath umbrellas set all about. There is only one diner despite the sunshine. It is strangely desolate for such a warm scene. 

You’re led to the only occupied table. Mr. Barnes stands as you near. He wears a pair of teal slacks and a patterned shirt with an open collar. Casual but just as refined as before. It hardly seems like job interview. 

“Doll,” he greets you with a kiss on the cheek to your surprise. You don’t comment on it, it might just be his way. “You made it.” 

“I...” you check your watch, “it was before noon when I got to the casino.” 

“That’s on me,” he insists as he pulls out the chair for you, “I got restless. Changed my mind. Please.” 

He gestures to the seat and you accept stiffly, moving your bag into your lap as he tucks the chair in under you. He resumes his seat and looks up at the woman patiently standing to the side, “Melody,” he says, “she’ll have a vodka cran, give me my usual. Thanks.” 

“Yes, Mr. Barnes,” she replies eagerly. 

“Oh, and the lunch menu,” he returns. 

She clacks off in her heels as you squirm and clutch your purse. You peer around the rooftop and finally at Bucky. You give a sheepish smile. 

“This is a nice place.” 

“Sure is,” he sits back carelessly. There is no tension in him but your wound tight as a spring. 

“Never been anywhere like this...” your eyes drift over and you stare at the city skyline. 

“Made sure we weren’t near the edge, doll,” he assures, “I remember you’re not a fan.” He rests a hand on the table, rubbing his index and thumb. “And I wanted to have this time alone so my pal did me a favour and cleared the roof.” 

“Oh, wow.” 

“He owns this place,” he shrugs. “Never got into the restaurant business. It’s fickle.” 

You nod, not knowing what to say. He knows about these things. Obviously, a lot. You’ve never even worked a full-time week of work. 

“How’s your sister?” He asks, “I assume you got home safe.” 

“Yes, er, thank you, again, for doing all that,” you bite your lip and his blue eyes catch the gesture as his eyebrow tweaks. “I’m really sorry she did that.” 

“Doll, you’re real sweet apologising for her,” he inclines his head slightly, “but you gotta worry about yourself, don’t ya? That’s why you’re here.” 

The hostess, Melody, reappears and sets down two glasses. Yours is bright red with a lime on the rim and his is dark, no ice. She lays down a menu in front of each of you and straightens her posture. 

“I have to get back to the door but Hailee will be up to help you shortly. Our specials today are a goat cheese and beet salad or a brown sugar salmon with seasonal veggies.” 

“Thanks,” Bucky says as he taps the menu. 

Melody leaves you again and you bend your neck to read the menu. You look for a price beneath the dishes and find none. That can’t be good. 

“I’m not very hungry,” you sit up straight. 

“Doll, don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” he circles his hand around his glass, “why don’t you try your drink? Make sure it’s up to snuff.” He sits forward and lifts his own, “cheers.” 

Your hand slips up the condensating glass before you get a grasp on it. You raise it and clink it against his. You bring it to your lips slowly as he does the same, mirroring you as he watches you intently. You gulp and set down the glass as your cheeks strain. 

“You don’t like it?” He wonders. 

“No, I... well, I don’t drink much,” you take the cloth napkin and dab your lips. 

“Ah, if that’s too tart, you can have a look at the cocktails. Some of them are so sweet, you wouldn’t know the difference.” 

“I’m okay,” you assure him, “so...” you swallow and force out your breath, “about the job--” 

“Damn, doll, I’m so all over the place lately, I didn’t even tell you how good you look.” 

“I...” your eyes widen but you quickly wipe away your shock, “that’s nice. I mean, thank you.” Your voice shakes as you struggle to comprehend the compliment. What do you say? “You too.” 

He smirks, “yeah, you think so?” 

“What?” Your voice cracks. 

“You think I look good?” He combs his fingers through his long hair. Oh god. 

“Yes,” you answer cautiously, “I like your shirt.” 

“You’re adorable,” he snickers and shakes his head, leaning forward once more, bending his arms against the table. 

“Uh...” you peek down at the table and back to him. You can’t even blame the sun that you’re about to melt. The umbrella blocks out the bright beacon though a glare comes over the edge. “Bucky, sir, Mr. Barnes,” you shuffle through his titles, “the job. What would that be?” 

His brows rise and he brings a hand up to drag over his mouth and beard, his fingers brushing along the trim of his jaw. 

“The job,” he repeats as he narrows his eyes, “ah,” he lowers his head and presses a fingertip to the menu, “let’s order before we get into all that.” 

You look over the menu again then raise your chin, “I appreciate it, but it’s too much, Bucky. I wouldn’t want to... waste your money.” 

“It’s my money,” he looks at you, “so I’ll decide how I waste it.” 

“Oh,” your cheeks set alight, “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he tilts his head again, “you’re just that type of girl. You don’t know what it is to be treated so allow me to show you.” 

You’re confused. This is the oddest encounter you’ve ever had. You almost feel like it’s a joke. You’re this poor helpless girl and he’s flaunting how rich and powerful he is. Is there even a job? 

“I’d feel worse if you didn’t eat, so doll, don’t step on my toes.” 

You chew your cheek and look down again. That’s it. You’ll have the cucumber sandwich. That’s not too much. It can’t be. 

The waitress arrives, a different woman but just as stunning. She introduces herself as Hailee. Bucky prompts you to order first before he gives his own. As she leaves, you rock slightly in your chair, stilling yourself before you can look weird. 

“So... I could clean or... I could learn something--” 

“Let me stop your there, doll,” he puts a large hand up, his palm rough and lined. “It’s my turn to apologise. I... haven’t been honest with you.” 

Your heart drops and you can’t help the glimmer in your vision. No. You’re going to have to go home and tell your mother you failed again. That you wasted her time and gas. You close your eyes and frown. 

“Doll, doll,” he says and you hear his chair scrape. You open your eyes as he pulls his chair around to sit closer to you, “hey, let me finish here.” 

You look him in the eye. Big mistake. You could drown in the blueness. He smirks and rubs your arm. 

“I’m not... it’s not a job I have to offer you,” he says deliberately, his other hand fluttering on your knee, “I would call it an arrangement. Mutually beneficial.” 

You stare at him. You’re entire being is on fire. You don’t understand what he’s saying, more so, you can barely think with him touching you. 

“But... I need a job,” you sniffle. 

He scoffs, not unkindly, “you’ll have money. I know you got a family, your sister, maybe your parents? Economy’s tough, I know it.” 

“Money? For what?” 

He squeezes your knee and sits up, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he leans even closer, “for your company. For yourself.” 

“What?” Your voice piques sharply. “I don’t...” 

“Look, let’s take it slow here, alright? Today is the taster. We spend some time together, see how we vibe, and go from there. Now I know you went to a whole lot of trouble to get so nice and pretty for me today,” he coaxes, “and I’m not gonna waste your time so you won’t go home empty handed. One thousand.” 

“Thousand?” You breathe. 

“Just for lunch,” he says, “I’d pay a lot more so I’m open to bartering.” 

“That’s... a lot...” you mutter. 

“Nothing’s too much for a girl like you,” his fingers dance along your shoulder. 

“I... I...” you heave each word. 

“Now don’t you freak out,” he’s on the edge of laughing, “doll, I mean it. Just lunch. You and me. Nothing...” he pulls away from you and puts his hands up, “untoward.” 

He stands and moves his chair back across from you. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide, “I mean it. Let’s get to know each other. I want to know all about you, doll.” 

“Me?” You gulp. 

“You,” he points over the table, “you must like music. You went to that concert, didn’t ya?” 

You nod and curl your shoulders. 

“What kinda music you like?” 

“Oh, I... old stuff, I guess. Destiny’s Child?” You give a sheepish cringe. 

“Old school,” he remarks, “I like it. Spice girls too?” 

“Yeah,” you clamp your lips together. 

“I’m not teasing ya. I can’t lie and say I never turned the radio up when I heard them,” he chuckles, “no judgment. That goes for you too, alright? When you find out how much I like ABBA, you can’t giggle.” 

Your cheeks dimple as you try not to smile. It’s hard to imagine him listening to Dancing Queen. You push your shoulders higher and look away. 

“Don’t laugh,” he chides. 

“I didn’t,” you turn back to him. 

“Yeah, you’re too nice, that’s why,” he purrs, “you gotta tell me your fave ABBA song.” 

You shrug and he squints cynically, “everyone has one. Come on. Fernando?” You shake your head at his guess. “Waterloo?” Again, no. “Mamma Mia?” Nope. “Take a Chance on Me?” No. “Alright, I surrender, tell me.” 

“Gimme, Gimme, Gimme,” you eke out. 

“Hm, not what I would guess but interesting,” he muses as his eyes wander from your face and back up, “but I at least knew you had taste.” 

He winks and you let out a giggle. Whether your nervous or something else, you can’t untangle all your emotions from one another. Yet you do feel a little better, a little lighter. It’s an unexpected situation but not as bad as you foresaw. 

[inaviolentnature]

9 people to get to know better, thank you for tagging me merv @comicsguy :)

list 3 ships you like: ooh, i've been revisiting rhack after playing borderlands 3, steddie is a ship i'm always reading (and writing) for, and scollace is a new ship for me

first ship ever: johnlock.... and stucky

last song you heard: prove you wrong by prong

favourite childhood book: i loved "are you there god? it's me margaret" by judy blume, and as a teenager it was "weetzie bat" by francesca lia block

currently reading: listening to the young mungo audio book by douglas stewart

currently watching: rewatching mtv daria, beavis and butt-head, and jessica jones

currently consuming: just drank some strawberry milk

currently craving: some water, i'm so parched but too lazy to get up and get some

no obligation tags: @allmoshnobrain @fairytalesreality @faggotfungus @handholdingisabigdeal @smilingwithfangs @alonetogether @lesbian-hannibal @snowangeldotmp3 @wastrelwoods

[writethrough]

Can you write a hurt/comfort Morpheus x F!Reader where the reader is good friends with Morpheus and continuously helps around The Dreaming until the reader’s diminishing presence in the realm due to worsening sleep becomes a point of concern, leading to the discovery that the reader’s insistence to help others is a way for her to put aside her own problems and not have to deal with them, and Morpheus finally convinces her to get the rest she so desperately needs?

Sorry if this is too long or too specific, but if it needs to be cut down, then just a one-shot about a F!Reader who puts everyone else’s needs before her own and Morpheus confronts her about it?

Hiding In Plain Sight

(Morpheus x Female Reader)

Warnings: Burnout, problem avoidance, a bout of insomnia, Reader's father in an accident, language, anxiety, innuendo

Word Count: 2216

A/N: Thank you for the request! This one took me a bit to start because I didn't know where to begin. I tried really hard to do your original idea and not the shortened version so I hope you like it. I did make Morpheus and the reader in an established relationship kinda on accident. I was 80% of the way through when I reread your request and was like shit "good friends." So, I hope that isn't a deal breaker. I also added a tiny little sprinkle of innuendo at the end because the story had a mind of its own at that point.

You had never seen Lucienne so…frazzled. You didn’t think she could be anything other than calm and composed. However, it seemed the Dreaming was going through a "repair," as she put it.

One moment landscapes would disappear or change from green to fuchsia. Books would launch off the shelves. Trees would sprout legs, and those with legs would plant themselves into the ground.

All in all, the Dreaming was experiencing a sort of glitch.

Morpheus and Lucienne were quick to assure you it was nothing to worry about, but it did cause them all a headache. Thankfully, if closely monitored, they could prevent any alterations.

You couldn’t help but giggle the more you thought about it. The Dreaming was in its rebellious teen years.

Lucienne had been spread so thin between the glitching and the library. You offered to take over the latter while you were there. And although she was hesitant, she trusted you, and a few days later, she felt comfortable leaving you alone.

The repetition of cataloging and shelving books helped you more than you’d ever tell her. It made you feel in control, needed, useful.

If she or Morpheus ever asked, you’d say everything was fine. You didn’t want to bother anyone.

Things were weighing on you in the Waking World.

Your rent was increasing. Your boss had tasked you with a large project for the first time. Your coworker had left for maternity leave, and you were picking up her clients and projects.

Additionally, your father had a nasty fall last week. You were constantly driving him to doctor’s appointments and running for anything he needed until he was on his feet again.

It was overwhelming. The mere thought of it all nearly sent you into a panic. You’d do anything to avoid it. So, you found ways to help Morpheus and the other residents of the Dreaming.

You loved it here. Not only for its magic and beauty but for Morpheus, too. He was ever present, even if you couldn’t see him. Being in his realm felt like nothing could touch you. It was like you could breathe a little easier.

He always made it a point to visit you. He’d spend hours with you, and when you questioned him about why he wasn’t dealing with the glitching, he’d give you this tilt of his lips and say, “No need to worry.”

The library wasn’t the only place you found solace from your troubles. Sometimes Merv would let you take on smaller jobs, or you’d hand him tools and keep him company. On other days, you’d watch Goldie while Cain and Abel were away doing something for Morpheus. You had actually taught the gargoyle fetch by accident.

While the creature held a special place in your heart, your favorite thing to do was watch Morpheus create dreams. He was always so invested in making them perfect. It sent a shiver up your spine when he asked for your opinion. And more often than not, he’d utilize it.

You sat in a plush chair he had conjured for you, observing him. He always stood so proud, like nothing could unbalance him. It was reassuring.

“What do you think?” he asked, breaking you from your thoughts.

He had crafted a burgundy creature who stood no taller than three feet. Its fur blew in the subtle breeze as its hooves tentatively tested the shifting sand. Its face was almost frog-like, but its eyes held intelligence that suggested it was wise beyond its years.

You gave Morpheus a small smile. “Perfect.”

The tilt of his lips was the only indication he had heard you. Then, he sent the creature off.

Morpheus was about to say something, but the sky flashing green, then yellow, stopped him.

He stayed trained on it. “They are coming quicker now.”

“How long do you think this will last?” you asked. It had already been two weeks.

“I can’t be certain. But I believe we’re coming to the end.” He offered you his hand to help you up.

“You should give Lucienne a vacation after all this.” You made your way back to the palace, fingers interlocked.

“Perhaps you could fill in for her.” His shoulder brushed yours. “I quite like having you here.”

Your shy grin was answer enough. “I like being here.”

If only you could express how much.

—

You waved goodbye to your neighbor and his daughter as they left. His babysitter had canceled last minute, and you just happened to be within hearing distance from him when it happened. You offered right away. Taking your mind off this project had to help you in the long run. It’d give you fresh eyes. Besides, she was a sweet kid and always wanted to talk about Morpheus, which you wholly welcomed.

She had seen him entering your apartment and asked him so many questions her father had to pull her back inside.

You'd take any chance you got to gush about Morpheus, especially with someone who dreamily compared you two to a prince and princess. A bit self-indulgent? Absolutely. But did it set your heart on fire and make you smile like an idiot? You bet.

If only you could tell her that she wasn’t too far off.

Getting into bed was wonderful. Every day seemed like it got longer and longer. When it finally came time to close your eyes and go to the Dreaming, you would’ve sworn you haven’t been there in months.

You tossed and turned, your mind trailing to the project details, the upcoming appointments for your father, then all of the little things you had to do for yourself. At least when you picked up your dad’s groceries, you could pick up yours. But your heat was acting up, your car had to be inspected, and your coworker’s clients were borderline assholes to you. God forbid you asked a simple question to clarify. They'd jump down your throat like you were supposed to know the answer because obviously, your coworker had all the time to share every detail of their file. Honestly, you couldn’t blame her if she forced the baby out early to get away from them.

Before you knew it, midnight ticked over to five in the morning, and you hadn’t fallen asleep. You hadn’t gotten to see Morpheus. You didn’t get to help the Dreaming.

There was a pit in your stomach throughout the day. It wasn’t like you to not sleep.

All you could do was take a deep breath and power through. At least you didn’t have meetings today. You could focus on your work and chug a shit-ton of coffee and hope you’d make a dent in the workload.

That was wishful thinking.

If anything, you’d been handed more to do. So much so that you had to take some home to finish.

When you finally yawned for the hundredth time, you crawled into bed. You were exhausted. You wanted to be held by Morpheus. To watch as he crafted dreams and kept the Dreaming from going too haywire. 

But again, you couldn't find rest. All you could do was think about what would come tomorrow.

—

“Lucienne, have you seen (Y/N)?” Morpheus asked, searching the areas of the library he could see.

Her brow furrowed. “No, my lord. I thought she was with you today.”

“No.” His voice was faint as if trailing off in thought. “Was she with you yesterday?”

Lucienne set her pen down. “No. I haven’t seen her in quite a few days. Have you spoken to Abel or Mervyn?”

“Yes.” An uneasiness formed in his stomach. “They’ve all said the same.”

“It’s not like her to have trouble sleeping.”

Lucienne was concerned about you recently. The last time she saw you, you seemed distracted. She could tell something was wrong, but when she questioned you, you reassured her, saying everything was fine.

You did the same with Morpheus.

He had sensed an unsteadiness in you. As if you were walking the thinnest of lines between dreaming and consciousness. It was so unlike you. You were always so present when with him that your tension stood out.

He had to make sure you were alright.

“I’m going to check on her,” he said.

Lucienne nodded. “Take as much time as she needs.”

He planned on doing just that.

—

It had been days since you saw Morpheus. Days since you’d been in the Dreaming.

All you wanted to do was inhale the scent of chamomile and sandalwood on his skin and have him tell you everything would be okay.

But your mind wouldn’t shut off. You couldn’t relax enough to go into that deep sleep. And even if you could, Morpheus was still dealing with the glitching. He was busy keeping everything running, and you couldn’t even help because you couldn’t fall asleep!

You carried your dinner plate into the kitchen. Your stomach had been in knots since this morning when your boss emailed you about moving up the due date for the project. It now needed to be submitted tomorrow. Between the appointment you had to take your dad to and meetings you scheduled with your coworker’s clients, you weren’t sure if you’d make it. You’d worked on the project all day, and everything about it screamed: rushed. You’d be working well into the morning to get it anywhere near where you wanted.

You’d barely touched your food and were about to throw it in a container when your foot caught the leg of a barstool. You caught the counter edge but couldn't stop the plate from bouncing off and smashing on the hardwood floor.

That was all it took. The shattering of the dish and the red sauce seeping into the cracks buckled your knees. And you cried.

You couldn’t even stop a damned plate from breaking. How were you going to finish this project? How were you going to care for your dad? How were you going to—

“(Y/N)?”

You gasped, trying to stop the tears and rid yourself of any wetness as you whipped around.

There stood Morpheus, his eyes full of concern.

You bowed your head and wrapped your arms around yourself. Why did he have to see you like this?

Silently, he took you into his arms. His hands slid to your shoulders, bringing you as close to him as possible.

He didn’t speak for the longest time, only let you cry, let you rid yourself of the frustration and panic and worry. Your weight slowly sank into him as you wore yourself out.

When you were reduced to sniffling, he finally spoke.

“Do you want to tell me?”

You wanted to say no, to pretend everything was fine, and hold him. But it had felt like forever since you’d been with him, and you forgot just how powerful he was. Not because he was an Endless, but how he looked at you—like you were a crucial part of him. Like he needed to know everything about you. Like he loved you.

So, you told him. Everything you’ve dealt with these past few months and all your insecurities. You cried again, and he held you again. And all throughout, that look never changed. He never thought less of you.

“My heart,” he whispered once you’d finished. “You must take care of yourself.” His thumb brushed along your cheekbone. “Before taking care of others.”

“But I don’t—it doesn’t—”

“Let me help you.” His eyes were so soft, so gentle, so pleading. 

You stared at him through tears. He had always been there for you. He was as solid and stable as a statue with the warmth of the sun. He wanted to take care of you and love you and he saw you. He saw you as no one else did.

You slowly nodded, letting out a choked sob as you threw your arms around his neck.

“I am here, my love,” he breathed into your temple. “I am here.”

Your cries quieted for the last time; his hand's rhythmic motion on your back made it easy. You didn’t want to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, eyes still closed and head in the crook of his shoulder.

“You need not apologize for anything. I should have been more aware.”

“You had a whole kingdom to worry about,” you said into his neck.

“You are my priority.” He pulled back to cup your cheeks, ensuring you couldn’t look away. “I will always choose you.”

Words couldn’t express what that meant—they couldn’t properly reciprocate. So, you did the one thing that could potentially match it.

You pulled him by his jacket into a searing kiss. You poured everything you were into it as his hands gripped your hips.

Yours slid into his hair, the silky strands tangling in your fingers. You couldn’t bring him close enough.

You had to separate, but he didn’t let you go far, making you pant into his mouth.

“Come,” he urged. “I have neglected you. I must remedy my mistake.”

His seriousness made you giggle, and a smile slipped onto his face.

“My favorite sound,” he said, grazing your bottom lip. Then, a glint ignited his eyes, and the corner of his lips lifted. “I intend to get my other favorite out of you.”

[parkerslatte]

Songbird || SIX

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.8k

Part Summary: Billy comes back from rehab and Y/N and Eddie end up lonely at a party.

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Series Mastlist

Main Masterlist

•••

TRACK SIX;

SLEEPING WITH A FRIEND

…

…

Y/N L/N: When Billy went to rehab and the tour was cancelled, everyone else came home. And tensions were high.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Y/N still wasn’t speaking to me, she wasn’t really speaking to anyone.

Y/N L/N: Around the time they came back, I was constantly at meetings with Teddy, I barely saw them in the first couple weeks.

…

“Was that one good?” Y/N asked. 

Teddy chuckled, “The one before was perfect.”

Y/N smiled, “I just want it to be perfect.”

“And it already is,” Teddy says, “Want to have a listen?”

Y/N sat next to Teddy as she listened to her song back. Everything felt so surreal to her, she felt like she would wake up at any second and she had imagined all of it. 

“It sounds great!” Y/N says, excitement coursing through her veins. 

Teddy smiled at the girl’s excitement, knowing how much this meant to her.

“If everything goes well, you might be hearing it on the radio soon.” Teddy commented. 

“Shut up!” Y/N says. 

“No, I’m serious.” Teddy says. 

…

TEDDY PRICE (1982, Merv Griffin Show): I’d never produced anyone like Y/N. She was always so easy going and easy to work with, she knew what she wanted and we worked with that. Her music had a unique sound, whenever a Y/N L/N song comes on the radio, you know it’s a Y/N L/N song.

…

As Y/N got home she was elated and nothing could put a damper on her mood. As soon as she stepped into the kitchen everyone could tell that Y/N had had a good day.

“How did the recording with Teddy go?” Graham asked.

“Fucking amazing!” Y/N exclaimed.

Soon enough, everyone went off to do their own thing but Karen approached Y/N wth a bottle of wine in her hand. 

“We need to celebrate and catch up.” Karen says. 

Y/N grinned 

***

“I don’t know how I lived without you on tour,” Karen says, “I needed a break from the boys.”

Y/N laughed, taking a swig of the wine, “I don’t know how you did it either.”

“How’s Camila been?” Karen asked suddenly. 

Y/N sighed, “She’s been okay, I know that everything has affected her but she’s not letting it show, all her focus has been on Julia.”

“She’s the sweetest kid I’ve ever seen.” Karen says.

“I know!” Y/N says, “When I have kids eventually, I definitely want a kid as cute as Julia or I don’t want a kid at all.”

Karen laughed, “Kids aren’t on by bucket list but I get what you mean.”

Music played softly throughout Y/N and Karen’s bedroom as they fell into silence, the bottle of wine being passed between the two. Ever since Camila gave birth to Julia, her focus had shifted to her daughter causing her to spend less time with Y/N. Of course Y/N still hung around with Camila and Julia, in fact Y/N could barely stay away. However, right now, Y/N was glad to spend some time with Karen. 

The only issue was the days she would spend all day in the studio and come home late and Camila and Julia were asleep or when Y/N wasn’t doing anything, Camila was busy taking care of Julia. The two hadn’t had a chance to sit down and relax and talk about whatever like they used to. 

As Karen took another sip of the wine, Eddie appeared in the doorway. Neither Y/N nor Karen noticed him at first as the two continued to laugh about something Karen had said. 

“Y/N, can we talk?” Eddie asked, standing in the doorway. 

Y/N sat up from her position and stared directly at Eddie, her smile faltering. Karen looked between the two of them and excused herself, not wanting to be caught in the tension, taking the wine with her.

Y/N sighed, “Eddie, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yes there is,” Eddie says, stepping into the room and closing the door, “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks.”

“I have not, I’ve been at work, recording.” Y/N says.

“And the days you aren’t? You spend most of your time with Camila and Julia or with Warren, Karen and Graham, you haven’t spoken to me since I got back.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to, has that crossed your mind?” Y/N questioned.

“Why?” Eddie asked, desperate for an answer.

“You know exactly why Eddie, I know that Camila has forgiven you and everyone else but I saw the way she was when we came back home, she was a mess Eddie,” Y/N says, “And the reason I am so angry with you specifically is because you lied to me when I asked if anything was going on outright and you love Camila and you still let her go through that pain. You don’t even like Billy! There was no reason for you to protect him.”

Eddie remained silent, he didn’t say anything. 

“If you don’t have anything else to say Eddie, then please leave.” Y/N says.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Eddie apologises, stepping over to her and sitting down next to her, “I really am, I fucked up and I know I did. I should have told you, I should have told Camila and I regret not doing that.” Eddie paused, “To be honest I just miss talking to you, I miss listening to your songs and stupid lyrics when you can’t figure out the next line. I miss you Y/N and I want us to be okay again.”

Y/N turned to look at Eddie, she missed him as well but the anger she had was a stronger emotion. 

“Please,” Eddie pleaded, looking deep into Y/N’s eyes, “I can’t stand it that you’re not talking to me.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, she had never seen Eddie look so desperate, “I will forgive you on one condition, never lie to me again.”

“I won’t, I promise you that.” Eddie says, quickly. 

There was a moment of silence before Y/N gave Eddie a small smile, “I forgive you, but you better hold up your side of the promise Roundtree.”

All Eddie did in response was pull Y/N forward and wrapped his arms around her, both of them falling back onto the bed, a comfortable silence between them. 

***

A few weeks later, Billy was set to return home and Y/N didn’t know how to feel about it, all she knew was that she needed to remain civil. As Y/N sat at the kitchen table, a book open in front of her while she ate her breakfast in a peaceful silence. 

Footsteps echoed on the wooden floor, interrupting Y/N from her book. Looking up she made eye contact with Billy. She didn’t smile. 

“Y/N,” Billy says in a greeting, “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Y/N answered, closing her book.

“Congratulations on the recording by the way,” Billy says, avoiding eye contact, “Graham told me about it

“Thank you.” Y/N says.

Billy gave Y/N a tight lipped smile before walking away, leaving her on her own once again.

…

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: The label dropped up a week after the tour was cancelled.

WARREN ROJAS: They made us pay back our advance and everything.

GRAHAM DUNNE: I kept us practising as much as I could and got a job at a bodyshop.

WARREN ROJAS: Yeah, I was working down at Malibu Harbor cleaning boats, which I loved, and, uh, and doing a lot of mushrooms, which I also loved,

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Basically we were back where we started, worse even.

INTERVIEWER: Are you still upset about it?

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Me? Nah. I mean holding onto that shit will be the death of you. But he really fucked us over.

Y/N L/N: With everyone out of the house working, I had a lot more space and time to work on my own music. The living room was empty almost all the time so I designated that room my writing room. [laughs] I’m not sure everyone appreciated all the balls of paper thrown everywhere though.

…

“Who the fuck do you think you are man?” Eddie spat.

Y/N rubbed her brow, looking around the group. Billy standing up in front of the band saying that he was done, Eddie was pissed off, meanwhile Karen, Graham and Warren all tried to diffuse the situation. Y/N watched from the sidelines, not wanting to be involved but somehow the argument started while she was in the middle of writing. 

“Look, everybody just calm down, okay?” Graham says.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I can’t be the only one who’s pissed here.” Eddie says.

“I don’t know what else you want me to say, you guys don’t even need me. You have the songs, you got the fan base. I mean, I’m sure if you just-”

“Billy!” Eddie shouted, “If you’re going, go.”

Billy paused for a moment before nodding and walking out of the room, leaving everyone in silence. 

“So now what do we do?” Warren asked. 

…

KAREN SIRKO: I mean bands fall apart, that’s rock’n’roll. I just…thought this one was different.

…

Everyone dispersed one by one, leaving just Y/N and Eddie in the room.

“Hey,” Y/N says, catching the attention of Eddie, “Everything will work out.”

Eddie looked at Y/N and the look on her face made him believe it.

***

Sighing, Y/N dropped down in a seat next to Warren, immediately ordering another drink. 

“Back so soon?” Warren questioned.

“He was so unbelievably sexist it should have been a joke,” Y/N says, taking a large swig of her drink, “First he wouldn’t stop talking about himself leaving me standing there with a fake smile plastered across my face, then when I finally managed to talk about myself and what I do he stated that women are not cut out to be in the music industry and that I should just become a housewife. Fucking dickhead,” Finishing off her drink and immediately ordering another Y/N sighed, “Where are all the good men around here?

“You’re sitting next to one.” Warren says, leaning closer to Y/N.

Y/N chuckled, placing a kiss on his cheek, “Sorry, Warren but the answer is still no.”

“Ah, worth a shot.” Warren says, leaning back in his seat. 

“What about him over there?” Warren questioned.

Y/N followed his gaze, “Nah, you can just tell that he’s boring, I mean he’s standing there like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He looks like my old math teacher.”

“You are picky,” Warren joked, “Remember if you just wanna get laid, I’m right here.”

“Keep dreaming,” Y/N says, her eyes scanning over the crowd once again, “He looks nice.”

Warren followed her gaze, “Him? Really? I thought you had standards.”

Y/N scoffed, “I do have standards and he’s quite attractive. 

Y/N and Warren continued to watch the man from afar. Just as Y/N stood to go and talk to him his hand raised to his nose as he began to pick it.

“Maybe not,” Y/N says, sitting back down, “Why are men so gross?”

Looking around once more Warren scanned over the crowd, “By the pool? The guy and the girl.”

“They both look too into each other to give me the time of day.” Y/N says. 

Taking another sip from her drink, Y/N noticed a girl standing not too far away, eyes set on Warren. Once she notices that Y/N had seen her, she averted her gaze.

“There’s a girl staring at you,” Y/N says.

“Where?” Warren asked, looking around.

Y/N hit his arm, “Don’t make it too obvious.”

“Okay, but where?” Warren questioned.

“Turn around and you can’t miss her, she’s making serious heart eyes at you.” Y/N remarked. 

“Wish me luck.” Warren says, standing to his feet.

“You’re the one who doesn’t need luck in this situation.” Y/N says.

Warren blew her a kiss before walking over to the girl. The girl made eye contact with Y/N for a brief moment and Y/N sent the girl a wink before turning away. 

Y/N sat alone at the bar from across the room she could see Karen and Graham talking, Graham with a lovestruck expression on his face, causing Y/N to chuckle to herself. She could see Eddie standing not too far away with a girl. 

As Y/N looked at Eddie, he looked up making eye contact with her, he sent her a smile, completely ignoring what the girl was saying to him. This caused the girl to scoff and turn around to look at what had caught Eddie’s attention. Once the girl noticed Y/N she scoffed before walking away from Eddie. 

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh when she walked away, mainly because of the confused expression on his face as he walked up to Y/N.

“You might want to go after her,” Y/N commented, “Some girls don’t like it when you smile at other girls from across the room.”

“It’s fine, it wasn’t going anywhere anyways.” Eddie says, sitting next to Y/N.

“That makes two of us.” Y/N says, “Every guy I’ve spoken to has been sexist, completely self obsessed or just a dickhead. I’m only looking for sex but I want to at least have some pleasure and none of the guys here are willing to give it.”

“You’ll find someone.” Eddie says.

“You want a drink?”

Many drinks later Y/N and Eddie sat together in a more concealed area of the party, both quite drunk. Eddie’s arm was wrapped around Y/N’s waist as he held her against him.

“You’ll hear my voice on the radio soon.” Y/N says, her head resting on Eddie’s chest. 

“I better,” Eddie says, “I want to hear your voice everywhere I go.”

“Won’t you find that annoying?” Y/N questioned, “I get tired of hearing my own voice sometimes.”

“I could never get tired of your voice, it’s just so…nice,” Eddie says, “I bet your ex-boyfriend was a lucky person.”

Y/N snorted, “Ex-boyfriend? Never had one.”

“You’ve never been in a relationship?” Eddie questioned, his words slurred.

“No,” Y/N laughed, “No man is worth my time in a relationship, all they care about is themselves. Besides, no man has ever wanted to be in a relationship with me.”

“I find it hard to believe that no one has ever wanted to be in a relationship with you.” Eddie says, having a sip of his drink.

“Why?” Y/N asked, looking up at Eddie. 

“Because you're beautiful, who wouldn’t want to be with you?” Eddie says, brushing a strand of hair out Y/N’s face. 

Y/N smiled lazily, “Beautiful is a strong word.”

“No, I mean it.” Eddie says, his hand resting on her jaw. 

“Well you’re not too bad yourself Eddie.” Y/N mumbled. 

Eddie’s hand continued to caress Y/N’s face as he slowly inched his face closer to hers, his breath fanning her face. Y/N gripped onto the front of Eddie’s shirt, her eyes falling to his lips, Eddie watched her movements closely. Pulling him closer by his shirt, Y/N captured Eddie’s lips with her own, acting on an impulse. 

The grip Eddie had on Y/N’s waist tightened as he pulled her body to his. His other hand tangled in her hair. Y/N’s body was on fire, she couldn’t tell if it was because of the kiss or the alcohol in her system. 

Pulling away, Y/N mumbled something to Eddie, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” 

“I know.” Eddie says breathlessly.

Y/N pulled Eddie back to her, kissing him passionately. Throwing her leg over his lap, she straddled him, while wrapping her arms around his neck. Eddie gripped her hips tightly, as Y/N began to move her hips on top of him. Everything in Y/N’s brain was telling her to stop but her body was doing the complete opposite. She was desperate. 

Their kiss was hungry and desperate, they kissed like the other would disappear at any second. Slowly, Eddie’s hand’s roamed under Y/N’s shirt, touching her bare skin. The touch set her skin on fire, goosebumps formed in his touch’s wake.  Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, messing it up. 

“We really shouldn’t be doing this.” Eddie mumbled against her lips.

“I know.”

Y/N moved her hips once again, causing Eddie to let out a quiet moan. Y/N smirked against his lips. 

“Let’s find a room.”

…

Y/N L/N: [smiles]

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: [smiles]

________________

[thewandererh]

💜💙❤️finally designing some jashlings for myself…after a full year of knowing chonny…

⚠️TW // GOREY CONCEPTS, BLOOD, NOOSE/RED ROPE IMAGERY, DESCRIPTIONS OF AGONY

i have pages of designs for the three that i doodled in my school sketchbook, and honestly i can’t pick one so i’m using ✨all of them✨. switching em out yknow?? maybe i accidentally created a bunch of aus instead of characters(??) because they all have loops that happen in different ways, or maybe they *are* the same but in different loops—the chonny paradox. anyways uhm some fellas to mention: nerd mind, merve (<3), deltarune soul, roe, toy-style soul, tadc mind (half an accident), a rabid heart, simon mind, an awesome enby soul…heart with heart-eye glasses but then disruptivevoid reblogged someone’s cute render of the same idea— (honestly, lmao)

the gangs all here !!

but anyways I want to show off one design of soul in particular that has become an extremely fast favorite between me and my fellow rain-jash friend Sluggx!! it’s kinda gorey so i don’t know how to censor it :[, but the image is small so scroll past if the warnings above irk you. but uh. say hi to Dyadracide—a word i coined that means “to kill the duo”

me and my friend sluggx are going FERAL for him,,

ft roe and corona 🔱👑☀️

had the idea of designing a buttload of minds a bit ago, then recently this week i decided the same for soul. doodled him at school, then showed him to my friend via whiteboardfox :]. i draw Dyadra semi different now than there, but all his design is the same. rope neck that coils up inside his body when not in use, oversized pointy teeth (went monochromatik style with human teeth originally but nah), frizzly uhkempt hair, and a trident through his head. he’s always bleeding from the roof of his mouth, whether the trident is retracted into his skull or not. i love him so much😭💛. he has a full body and even a cute little gut but that’s kept for later for now. consider this a teaser of my inner workings :monk_devious:

ive been drawing him *SOOo* muchhh aaugha…can’t wait to show you when i can :]. building a batch of art for a tumblr post that i’ll dump later today maybe. get ready for some fun and gore galore~ (its not too gorey, just the trident-through-head-hes-always-choking-on-his-own-blood concept in full force. yummy ideas have to be explored huhu)

and off i go to have a late brunch. i always write these when i have something else to do lmao. *bites into omelette*

[eldritch-spouse]

I don’t know if you’ve done the nitty gritty world building but I’m still curious about it:

Where do the triplets live? Do they have their own places in the common rings? Have they got property on the surface, or in other rings? Do they crash with Katia on occasion, or even live with her still?

Feel free to expand this to any other notable demons if you want!

(Sorry I’m always simping for those three. They’re just so tasty)

The triplets have a shared apartment in the "Common Rings" section of Hell, where they were essentially raised. That being said, they spend most of their time on the surface. Especially Ludwig, who will just crash anywhere he can, sometimes on his car.

How can they afford to do this? You know how Lud can take advantage of "rifts"*? So can the others, and so they're constantly inexpensively moving from one place to the other.

It's not unlikely for one of them to rent something temporarily in the surface, or to stay at a hotel/motel for a short span of time. They're usually always moving in the surface however.

Katia has her own place, the poor woman deserves it after dealing with these three hooligans for decades. The three tried to get her back to Sloth so she could be more comfortable and relatively safer, they had to push some, but they succeeded. Katia worries about the distance however. They absolutely still spend lots of time with her, or invite her to the apartment (after Mervin bullies the other two into helping making the place look spotless), it's not as if they don't have contact.

*(you might want to surf waaay back to recall what these are, but think of them as errors in the fabric of reality, this ability to not only see and interact with them connected to the triplets supposedly only visual disability. These are portals between certain locations, and while Ludwig is the most adept at using them to quickly move around, Merv and Obie can do so as well. In fact, it was a rift just like this that landed Ludwig in the Null.)

[deancasbigbang]

Title: The Things We Leave behind

Author: Briston

Artist: Merv (fruitmixtape)

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Dean/Cas

Length: 52000

Warnings: minor character death, discussion of historical child abuse, substance use disorder.

Tags: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Divorce Arc, Bad Parent John Winchester, Alcohol Abuse, Rehab, Discussion of Cheating, Alcoholic Dean Winchester, Recovering Alcoholic Dean Winchester

Posting Date: October 31, 2023

Summary: Cas has been getting progressively worried about Dean’s drinking for a while but mentioning it only causes tension in their marriage. The sudden death of Dean’s father brings everything to the breaking point. After a particularly bad fight, his husband seeks solace in whiskey and flirty women in the aftermath. When Cas finds out, he decides he’s had his fill, packs his bags, and leaves. Sam lives in California and has built a career as a well respected addictions counselor. When Cas calls to tell him that Dean is missing on a bender and their marriage is likely over, he drops everything to come to Kansas to find his brother. Dean clearly needs help. Sam convinces him to go with him to California and go through a rehab program. Dean only agrees because Cas refuses to have anything to do with him unless he stops drinking permanently. If he can't, their marriage is finished. Along the way, Sam and Dean discover that their father left them with more than just painful memories of a traumatic childhood. Their half-brother Adam might be exactly who they need to help pull all the fractured pieces together. Cas is giving Dean one last chance to turn things around. Nothing is easy, but maybe it’s still worth fighting for.

Excerpt: “You know the only difference that would have made was that you would be as miserable as he was.” Cas grabbed both of their toothbrushes and toothpaste from the ensuite bathroom, tossing Dean’s his way. “I could’ve tried harder to get him to quit, go to rehab or something.” The toiletries went in the bag with some deodorant, a flannel, and some denim. He shot Cas a dirty look when he heard him huff in exasperation. “How many times did you ask him to quit? Remember when Sam flew in for an intervention? He’s a professional addictions counselor and the only thing that happened was that Sam flew home with a black eye and a refusal to ever come back.” “That’s just because they’re too much alike and can’t stop themselves from fighting.” Dean was starting to raise his voice. Cas wasn’t having any of it. “No,” he knew he sounded snarky as shit but was so very tired of having the same argument about John Winchester’s parenting skills. “It’s because your father is a narcissistic asshole with undiagnosed mental health issues that he self-medicates with whiskey.” Dean walked around the bed to where Cas was and grabbed his arm. The grip wasn’t rough but it wasn’t gentle either. His green eyes were anguished and pleading.   “Don’t say that, he could be dying right now.” Somewhere deep down Cas knew he should be feeling guilty about just how little empathy he had for John right then. He’d feel more compassion for a complete stranger than he did for the man who had hurt Dean again and again, both as a child and as an adult. He felt a small flash of resentment at having to defend Dean from his own negative thinking. “It was always going to be this way with him, Dean. Every counselor you’ve ever had has told you the same thing for years. You are not responsible for fixing him. Don’t kill yourself trying to be accepted by someone who doesn’t even deserve you.”

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