#started this so long ago and only just now finished it up

[cupcakeinat0r]

Your loser, Middle-aged Genetics professor with a dadbod <3

pt. 7

A/n: Hey y’all! Just a quick apology for such a long wait for an update, just came back from a relaxing vacay!! But as soon as I got off the plane back home, I started writing cuz the creative juices were juicinggg <3 Anyways, enjoy <333 Hopefully this serves as a good apology ;)

4 exams down, 3 more to go. The finish line of the semester was so close yet so far. Not gonna lie, your sanity was hanging on by a rope, your strongest and only support system being one person. He was the most sweetest, smartest, and respectful person you have ever had the blessing of meeting. It may not have been in the most conventional (or convenient) of ways, but still, it couldn’t have felt more like the storybook that you wanted and dreamed your life would be. Amidst your academic tribulations, he made you feel like royalty.

Even now, as you wait in the library and your phone goes off with a notification from Miguel, whom you had referred to as ‘Professor O’Hara’ only just a few months ago, you are still in dreamland with the fact that you were—

Well, at this point, you two haven’t quite fleshed out the label of y’all’s relationship just yet, but for now, you tell yourself that you two are talking. So yes, even now, you truly can’t believe that you are talking with your adorable professor.

You mentally take note that this will be a conversation that you two will have to have in the near future.

Your attention is now on your phone, reading a message under the contact name ‘Mig 🤓’.

“We ended earlier than planned. Headed over there now❤️”

You smile at the message, already typing a response up.

The night he told you about his late daughter was almost a week ago, and since then, y’all have set aside a day to go to the public library. You both agreed that it was nice, quality time, and wanted to do something like that again; just talking, being with each other, and forget about school for a while. Plus, exams have sort of kept yall apart for the past week, so it was very much needed.

Now you wait at the library where you and Miguel agreed to meet at after he finishes a recitation he had to substitute for.

‘ “Ended earlier than planned” ??? You’re not slick, DID YOU END CLASS EARLIER TO COME HERE???’

‘No, of course not, I would never do that.’

…

‘But maybe.’

‘Uhuh... See you soon <3’

‘See you soon, mamita ❤️😘.’

With a content hum, you put down your phone and turn your face toward the quiet buzz of people reading, chatting over coffee, and studying. Even though it's been months since knowing Miguel, you still feel jitters when about to see him. You can't help it. Everything about him makes you nervous in the best possible way. From how his smile lines crease, how that one little curl falls on his face, how he always speaks to you with a slight pout, the way his sweater vests hug around his full chest and soft tummy, all the way to how he looks at you like you’re his muse. You couldn't stop smiling just thinking about him. And to think, everyone in class just thought he was a total killjoy; backs straighten and all conversations cease when he enters the room. If only they knew the real him, but a part of you is glad you're the only one to see it.

Just a couple of blocks down, Miguel is gathering his things, excited to meet up with you. As he sharply nods to the last few students leaving the room, wishing them a good Summer break and luck on their finals, his expression becomes soft as he thinks of you. Quickly, once he has the room to himself, he takes a minute to put on one or two sprays of his best cologne, fix his hair, and remove his tie. He knew how much you liked it when he wore his button-ups like this; a few left unopened at the top. He felt ridiculous, but you always commented on it, and it would make Miguel feel good.

That was another thing; since seeing you, Miguel's confidence has so much improved. He did, however, take a glance over at his cardigan that hung on the back of his swivel chair and contemplated wearing it. It used to be his safety net; an effort to try and hide his soft figure, but that was old Miguel. New Miguel wanted to impress you and, even though he’d never admit it, would try to get the most compliments out of you. Despite feeling like he let himself go, you made him feel like he was a total knock-out, which never failed to make his cheeks grow darker, and he plans to return the favor for however long you’ll have him.

Miguel arrives, scanning the enormous room for you, a bright, colorful speck among the sea of dark-colored apparel. You wore an outfit he had bought you during the semester. He’s indifferent when looking for you, but when he spots you, his lips curled just slightly, the crows feet of his face creasing. He glides across the room, but any faster, he’d be running. He tries to act collected, but you both know he’s ecstatic to see you.

"Hey mama," He stands before you, holding out your hands as if to exhibit an art piece, "You look beautiful today, as always”. His eyes graze over every single inch of you, up and down. There’s something sexy about seeing you in something he bought you, even if it wasn’t all that exposing. You go in for a hug, acting as if you haven’t seen him in weeks (You both see each other in the hallways like every day, y'all just haven't been able to be with each other in a minute).

You smile against his broad chest, "Thanks, cutie, and you look handsome, as per usual.” You give his thick torso a soft run down with your hands. Miguel looks around bashfully, even though no one is paying attention. Physical touch came easy for him when you two were alone, but in public? That’s another story.

You look up to see his wandering eyes fall back on you. “I’ve missed you,” you shift all your weight onto him, holding onto his waist like a koala bear on a tree. You get on your tip toes to reach his cheek, pressing a kiss there, “mwah! so much.” The simple gesture was enough to turn Miguel into a mess. It takes everything in him not to completely smother you out in the open, but would rather save that for when there’s privacy.

Miguel holds you as if you were a porcelain doll. Something rose in his chest, call it pride; Proud to show off the gorgeous woman in his arms. "I missed you more." He says softly.

"So? How was the class?" you hold onto his hand while looking for a place to live in for the afternoon.

Miguel looks as well and spots a vacant, quiet little corner of the library, one that sits almost separate from the rest of the crowd. He gives your hand a small tug, motioning for it. "It was actually quite nice. The students were pretty engaged for it being an 8AM... I dunno, I might pick it up next semester." He sets his bag down before grabbing you a chair for you to sit on, as well as a cushion for you to lay your back on. He grabs a stool for himself once he sees you're comfortable and sat.

You give his forearm a caress, a small act of encouragement, "Well, I think you should. You're so good at what you do. Trust me, I should know." you give him a smirk, making him crack a smile.

"Which reminds me, you feel good for tomorrow? 'cuz if you're needing review for anything, we could go over it right now-" You place a hand on his arm, "Mig! I'm fine! I feel completely fine. Besides, I've tutored over a dozen people, I pretty much know the material like the back of my hand. Please, relax, you need it."

Miguel sits back now, "But if you change your mind, you'll let me know, right?" You nod, and Miguel relaxes at last. He sees the book you pull out and reads the spine of it. Wuthering Heights. It’s one of Miguel’s personal faves. He looks forward to seeing your small reactions once you get toward the end. It was endearing the way you reacted to what you read, let it be a faint widening of your eyes or a small gasp. He also loved watching your concentrated face. He thinks back to all those lectures he spent watching you take your color-coordinated notes in his class, your glossed lips pursed and your eyebrows faintly knitted. It never went unnoticed by him. Adorable.

You do a double-take at Miguel's choice of book, not believing what you read the first time. "Jane Austen?" "…Yes?" "You like Jane Austen?" "Yes. " Miguel says this so matter-of-factly, it leaves you kind of in shock. It was a cute surprise. Smiling, you let a puff of air out your nose, shaking your head as you open your book. “What’s so funny?” Miguel smiles, wanting know what you’re thinking now.

“Ugh, I-“, You almost let a certain 3-word phrase slip from your lips, but you stop yourself. “ I… just wasn’t expecting that, is all. Have you read ‘pride and prejudice’?”

“Yeah, loved it. It’s why I’m reading this one.” He looks down at the cover, which, in intricate letters, reads sense and sensibility. Your smile is even wider now that you know the man of your dreams is a fellow Jane Austen fan. “Me, too. Let me know what you think, then.” You softly say, starting on your book. “Of course. By the way, anyone ever taught you not to judge a book by its cover?” You roll your eyes and nudge him, making him chuckle in his throat. Although Miguel’s humor wasn’t exactly the most original, his sass takes the cake, and you love it. Feeling romantic, Miguel leans over and kisses your cheek once, twice, then gently brings your lips to his by your chin to plant a third kiss.

After finally quenching his need for your kisses, he settles in his spot and reaches for your hand, which you grab instinctively. Like always, his thumb caresses across your knuckles, and you both fall into a peaceful silence, transporting to your individual worlds within your books.

<3

The time in the library is nothing short of peaceful and fun. The first while of reading, Miguel would get up to use the restroom, but on his way back, he would’ve gotten you a cup of coffee for you and himself. A little later, you’d get up as well, but not for the restroom, but to grab him a treat, as well as for yourself. His eyes widen in pleasant surprise when he sees you walk back with them in your hands. He always did have a sweet tooth.

For the rest of the time, you’ll reach over occasionally to push his glasses back up his nose, or sometimes, without looking up from his book, he’ll simply pull your hand up to his lips, and press a butterfly kiss there, the faint smack of the peck making your heart skip a beat. And he doesn’t just do it once, he has to do this every so often because he just can’t resist; the man needs to feel you like as if you’ll disappear out of nowhere.

And you don’t notice, but every now and then, Miguel looks over at you, just admiring. He watches how your eyes inch deeper into the pages as you soak in the language. He can stay like this forever. Reading books with you while you hold hands. For a second, he feels the bottom of his stomach drop because he knows the day will have to end, and he’ll have to go back to class tomorrow, as do you. Sure, you’ll both be in the classroom, but you’ll have to pretend. Miguel was growing tired of the game. He then thinks about how near Summer is, and if he’ll see you then. Not as your professor, but as someone who deeply cares about you.

He’s already making plans on the possible trips you two could make. Maybe spend two weeks in Italy, or maybe just simple weekend roadtrips to nearby, quaint towns. He’s thinking about taking you to only the nicest, fanciest places in Nueva York.

Guiltily, his mind wanders into trips to the bedroom. How he’d love to take care of you and make sure you felt loved. Above all, your pleasure would be his. Oh, how he’d worship you like the goddess you were because dammit, you are one, and to this day, he’s still unsure how he scored you. How he, the intimidating, quiet giant, won an ethereal princess like you. He sort of smiled to himself as he realized:

Gabriella’s favorite bedtime story was becoming his life right before his eyes.

And like many times before, Miguel’s mind wanders even more. He’s thinking of the wedding, the honeymoon and the endless amount of rounds, the baby shower… having a kid with you. He’s fully aware of how crazy it is to think about it so soon, but at the same time, it feels so right. With you, it does.

Your caring, attentive nature, sweetness, cleverness, patience, and drive, they were all qualities of someone he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with. Your desire to better yourself and hunger for knowledge is evident in your work for your masters. Your softness that had so remarkably torn down his walls. And of course, there was your unmistakable beauty, but that’s just a bonus!

As he continues to watch you read, your hand lovingly locked with his, he realizes his feelings are no longer casual, no. Miguel’s breath hitches when a realization dawns on him. Rather than a ton of bricks, it feels like a weight lifted off his stiffened shoulders.

He looks at you, and he feels what could only be described as true, total, and complete love.

“‘Scuse me, sir.” Miguel snaps toward the low voice, “Library’s closing in 10 minutes.”

These hushed words sweep your attention from the book in your hands, your face falling in small dismay. You both look at each other, Miguel giving you a shrug that conveys ‘it is what it is’.

“Aw man, I got so caught up in reading, I feel like we didn’t get to talk as much as I wanted to.” Miguel is gathering both of yalls things, leaving your hand for last. You grab his, and you both begin to head out, the swarm of people that was here before gone. “We can still talk if you’d like. We can go to my office?” You nod gingerly.

“Then c’mon, let’s go.” Without asking, he grabs your bag from you and slings his and yours onto his shoulder, and you both leave hand in hand.

<3

After braving the storm that seemed to come out of nowhere outside, Miguel lets you into his office first, closing the door behind you two. The campus was dimly lit, only housing a few students who were doing some late-night studying. Hopefully, no one saw you two shuffling toward his classroom.

You look around his office, and for the first time, if feels new. It’s somewhat dark, the storm outside supplying the only light in the room. You’ve been in here countless of times, helping Miguel out with class work or tutoring, so it shouldn’t feel any different, yet, it does. Maybe it’s because every time you’re in here, you’ve never got the chance to really look at it. You’re always in and out. And if y’all weren’t in here, you were sitting in the lecture hall just outside the office door. Now that the fluorescent lights are off, you realize just how clinical they made it feel in here.

Miguel observes how you look along his walls where a multitude of diplomas hang. He thinks about saying something, but doesn’t want to interrupt; instead, he allows you to examine his space, finding it charming. It’s like he’s letting you in on his life. He pretends to busy himself with something else, leaving you to explore. Which is fine, really. You two have fallen into many comfortable silences before.

Then you move onto his shelf, filled with nothing but books and maybe one picture frame, but you’re not sure. It’s laid flat on the shelf. You go away from it for a second, going back to the spines, reading them off in your head. Some DNA encyclopedias, anatomy studies, Genetic Theory… ah, here we go. Leroux, Fitzgerald, Verne… is that Shelley? Atwood? Woolf? Plath?! Then, of course, there’s Beauty and The Beast. You pause there for a second, remembering Miguel’s most cherished memories that are tied to this story. Some more Jane Austen… oh, and look, Wuthering Heights!

“You’re more than welcome to take any of those. What’s mine is yours.” He sits on the couch that sits along the wall of his office, laying back with his arm laid across the frame of it. You pull out Wuthering Heights and walk towards him, “What’d you think of this one?” You go to take a seat next to him, nuzzling against his side, your head at its assigned spot on his shoulder. “Nice try, sweetie, but don’t wanna spoil it. Though I will say, it’s really good.” his face brightens along with yours, “I think you’ll like it. Brace yourself for the ending, though.” His arm wraps around you now, his thumb making small circles on your shoulder like he usually does.

“How about Miss Austen?” You put the book on a small table beside the couch. Miguel thinks about it for a second. “She’s got this sort of sarcastic wit that I can really get behind. But in all seriousness, her social commentary is brilliant. Still applies to this day, in some ways. And her style, wow…” You can see Miguel get lost in his thoughts, his emotions having their rare time in the limelight as he proceeds to list off Jane Austen’s wonderful writing attributes. It felt so good to see him like this. To be able to get him talking like this was a big win in your book.

“…Just overall, I’m a total fan now.” He nods, looking over at your dazzling eyes. “No, no, keep going.” You urge him, overcome with adoration. Miguel smiles at the floor, shaking his head. “I can listen to you talk allll day, honestly.” He looks off into the office still smiling bashfully, away from your revering gaze. “D’aw, don’t be so shy, I love listening to your voice. It’s so soothing, Mig.”

“You’re… stealing my lines.” A chuckle rumbles in his chest while you taunt him with a giggle of your own. In an effort to quiet you and from flustering him further, he envelopes you with his arms, you reaching for his neck simultaneously, and you both meet in the middle with a kiss so sweet, it could develop diabetes. With your lips locked, he grabs your thigh and swings it over his hips, his soft stomach taut against yours. You both smile against each other’s lips, soft laughs in tune with the rain that hits against walls outside.

Sooner than later, Miguel’s small chuckles turn into soft groans, his breath becoming labored. His hands venture up under your top, fingers ghosting the skin above the waistband of your skirt. You taste of… cherry lip gloss. His favorite taste, and in the past couple of weeks, he’s grown addicted to it. As a matter of fact, he’s become so addicted that he tends to bite and pull at your bottom lip, a gesture that never failed to leave you weak in the knees.

The hungry tug of your lip evoked a small whine from your throat, unleashing something in Miguel. Carefully, he laid you on the couch, your bodies entangling in languid unison with your tongues. The feeling of all of Miguel’s weight on you set a flame off within you, his length pressing along your dampened heat each time he dug his hips. You wanted it, and bad. Needed it like your life depended on it, but your conscious was screaming at the back of your mind, and you couldn’t ignore it.

“M-mig, w-wait.” You manage to breathe out, the heart between your legs unable to agree with the brain in your head. You hated stopping where things were headed, but you had reason.

Miguel’s head shot up from your neck where it was planting hickies on. “Are you okay? You wanna stop?” He’s already sitting up, removing himself from your legs, “Mama, I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked, want me to take you home? If you want to, I can take you-“ Miguel was so worried, he’d rather die than you feel taken advantage of. “Miguel! It’s okay, I’m fine!” You reassure him softly, sitting up as well to keep him seated. “Trust me, I wanted this, too. It’s not you at all. I just…” you grab his hand, thinking of your next words. Your shoulders droop from what you’re about to say. Miguel looks at you with a soft expression, ready to be here for you in any way.

“Look, we both know we shouldn’t even be here, and not just in this office, I mean being together period. And what worries me the most is not even the fact that we could get caught, but the possibility that maybe you’ll…” Miguel motions for eye contact when he sees you retreating to the floor. “Mamita, tell me, please. Dime que quieres. Nothing you say can upset me or change the way I think of you. Nothing.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m only in this for the wrong reasons.” Miguel’s brows furrow in confusion. How could he possibly think you’re using him? “Sweetie, why would I…” And it clicked just as fast as he began speaking. Miguel seemed to be going deep into thought. You were scared that maybe you had said something wrong.

“Miguel, please understand that I care about you so so so much, and because I do, I don’t want us to be intimate with each other until the school year is completely over.” You’d thought things through since becoming romantic with Miguel, and the thought that If y’all had sex, there would’ve been the risks of people finding out, you losing your eligibility for a degree that you were three exams away from obtaining, or worse, Miguel losing his job as professor and probably being blacklisted for the rest of his life. A very small part of it was also that you didn’t want your score on his exam to be affected in any which way. If you happen to not do well on the exam, you wanted the grade you deserved. There was simply too many downsides.

He looks back up at you, not a trace of judgment nor anger on his face. “Mama, you don’t have to explain yourself. The ball is in your field. Whatever you want or need, I’m right there with you. Don’t ever feel bad for what you want, okay?” Your lips curl in relief, and you nod slowly. He brings his hand to your face, allowing you to lean into his touch. “And to be honest, I couldn’t agree more. But even after classes end, even then our speed is still up to you. I’m not ready to take things further until you are.”

How lucky am I to have someone like him? I’m not entirely sure who’s up there or who to thank exactly, but oh my goodness, thank you for giving me this perfect man sitting before me.

“You mean it? I mean, you’re not disappointed or anything?” Miguel shakes his head. “Not even for a second.” Filled with joy, and almost knocking him over, you embrace him.

“We could just stay in here and chat. Would you like that?” He speaks softly against your hair. “I would love that.”

<3

Miguel and you lay on the couch (which fits you just fine, but Miguel’s feet were borderline hanging off the end), Miguel the big spoon, and you the little one. Your head lays against the decorative pillow while he props his on his hand.

You nestled against his frame, feeling the steady rise and fall of his tummy against your back. His arm encircled your waist, holding you securely against him as you melted into each other's warmth. "Are you comfortable?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. "Mhm, more than comfortable," you replied with a contented sigh."You make a pretty good body heater," you teased. He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "Glad I could be of service, Princesa.” He plants a sustained kiss to your temple.

Your gaze falls softly on the wall across from you, your eyes traveling along the diplomas, “Did you always wanted to be a teacher?”

“Well, when I was little, I did. I loved science and there was this one teacher I had… she was the best. Wanted to be just like her. But…” Miguel breathes out. You can feel his stomach tense up against your back, prompting you to turn your head towards him. “Y’know… um… I didn’t always teach.”

Miguel would go on to tell you how the past five years has looked for him. He began with a rather heavy start; a freak accident in his work as a geneticist, a job much more lucrative than a professor. He’d then recount his days as a hero, proceeding to show you his long-retired claws. You listened intently, with an open mind, following along to his story of how he got involved with the multiverse, and what that term entails. He explained how the world was connected to other worlds; a prodigious tree of universes. It was how he lost his daughter. He revealed the tragic story to you finally, after withholding it that first night he told you about her in the school library. He recollected a few more memories that would eventually lead to his decision to hang up his hat as Spider-Man, finding refuge in becoming a science professor; an old dream he had abandoned so many years ago.

“And since then, I’ve been… okay. Better than before, for sure. I’m satisfied here, truly.” You sat there, processing everything he had shared with you. “I know that was a lot, you don’t have to say anything. I’m just glad that I could share this with you.” You nod, trying to think of what to say because silence just wouldn’t suffice, not for you. “I…” you began, your voice low and soft, “But are you happy?”

Miguel is taken aback by the question. Even after everything he’s said…the man just got done telling you he has fangs and red irises and that he traveled across dimensions for a living, and this is your first question? If he’s happy? He told you a story that could possibly have the fbi sent to his door with just one call, but you’re more interested in his wellbeing? He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe you.

Miguel lets out a sharp breath; a chuckle, as his eyes narrow at you. “You’re unreal, you know that?” Your lips reflect his small smile, “What?! I wanna know, after everything… are you happy?” You repeat the question with utmost genuineness in your tone.

With the answer as obvious to him as the formulas he taught in his class, Miguel simply leans in, hand on the back of your head, and kisses you, then pulling back by just an inch, he speaks softly,

“Now that you’re here, I am.”

A/n: I hope y’all enjoyed it <3 Shoutout to @pomakori for sending this photo in, I absolutely loved it and had to include it in this chapter cuz it’s so them coded !!!

(Like ❓❓ this is so them‼️ n u can’t change my mind‼️)

Thank you so much for reading <3 I’m a lil worried about how long it might be, so sorry if I yapped too much on this one 🫶 I just love n care abt him sm, ur honor🥹

Want some more Dadbod!Miguel? Here’s my master list, bae!

Tags<3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi i @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @safixiovi

@hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu

@mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @tinythebunni

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, cursing, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 2,072k

Note: I'm just writing a few drabbles for now, hoping to get my engagement up a bit. This is really rushed, so it’s not good, but oh well.

-

“Babe, when are you coming to bed?”

It’s twelve am, and you have been waiting hours past your bedtime so you can finally go to sleep with your boyfriend for the first time in literal months.

It’s been a while since he started working from home, and you thought that would free up some space for you both to spend time together.

You thought you guys could go back to normal like how you used to be but now it seemed like he worked even more after being able to work from home on top of his promotion.

You received no answer, and you sighed. This had been going on for months, him ignoring you and solely focusing on work. You disappointedly slipped under the covers so you could patiently wait for him to be finished.

Staring at the clock, you counted down every minute until a full thirty minutes passed.

You decided to give it another go thinking half hour may have been enough time for him to conclude his work. “Honey, it’s so late,” your voice is groggy, eyes half opened, and you’re still worried about your boyfriend’s well-being. How could you not be when he barely ate and barely slept anymore? The last time you two spent quality time together was so long ago you couldn’t even remember. “Please come to bed. I know you’re tired.”

He snaps at your words, only increasing the annoyance that he currently feels. “Can you just stop talking, damn?!” He agitatedly shouts out of nowhere, turning his head in your direction with an angry expression plastered on his tired features.

Startled by the sudden loudness of his tone you jumped a little bit not used to him speaking to you that way. “S-sorry I was just worried” you tucked back under the covers your heart aching in your chest cause of what he said to you.

He was always on edge lately, but you never received that type of treatment from him. Ever even in your five years of dating, he has always been respectful to you.

“You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You should be sorry I’m the one working hard every day to provide for you and all the frivolous bullshit you buy, and this is the thanks I get. Do me a favor and stop fucking bothering me while I’m working,” he rubs his temples, turning his attention back to his computer.

It most certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said such harsh words to you after your constant nagging for him to eat and sleep more, but this was the first time you felt pure anger from him, and it worried you cause he was never this bad before and you feared that as time went on like this it would just get worse.

“O-okay.” You looked at his stressed back, noticing how tense his shoulders were, and you felt bad knowing he was taking on all of the work to provide for you both. Apparently, all you were doing was bothering him, but you weren’t doing it intentionally. “I guess it’s a crime to care about my boyfriend.” Your voice broke a little, and you turned your back to him, calling it quits for the night. He could come to bed whenever he wanted.

“You know what?” He shuts the computer and sighs. “I think.” he pauses for a moment, the silence getting the best of your nerves cause you were scared about what he was going to say. “We should just break up.”

His words dangle in the air for minutes, and within those minutes, you feel tears pricking your eyes and your heart breaking into little tiny bits. “Hee-“ you sat up now, looking at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“I know you’re going to run down every reason why we shouldn’t, but I’m done. I’m tired of this, and I’m tired of talking. I can’t do it anymore, and nothing you say can ever change my mind.”

You’re left absolutely speechless too stunned to even say anything not to say he would want to hear it or listen now anyway.

You’ve spent so many long years of your life with him that you couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else besides him you thought that he was your happy ever after and to hear him say he wants to break up felt like a dream a very bad dream never in your life did you ever think he’d say the words but he did and it came out so easily like he’s been wanting to say it but only now decided to.

And the thought made you upset because if he’s been feeling this way for this long why did he even bother to string you along knowing he didn’t see a future with you anymore after your guys relationship went downhill?

In the midst of your thoughts his voice brings you back to the present. “I’ll call your mom in the morning so you can get all your stuff and be out by tomorrow.” You don’t respond, and the only thing you hear for the next few hours is typing on a keyboard.

You would go to the sofa, but you’re literally glued to the bed, paralyzed by grief.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they definitely didn’t stop once he came to bed. If anything, they got worse when you felt his warmth so close to you but yet so far away.

He tried slipping his hand around your waist, but you slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” you say through your heartbroken cries.

He immediately retracted his hand, a little surprised at first by how quickly you rejected his touch.

He didn’t care really he just thought it might comfort you a little so you could sleep since you’ve been up crying for literally hours but it didn’t matter one way or the other to him as he turned on his side and shut his lamp off.

Heeseung slept soundly while you lay awake, crying every last tear you had left in you.

-

When morning struck, heeseungs alarm woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he quickly grabbed his phone, turning the awful sound off.

He turned towards your side of the bed and patted the soft material in search of your warmth, but he found none.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a few luggage bags that looked to be packed already. He sat up confused for a moment until memories of last night flooded his mind.

He heard a rustle coming from the closet, and you appeared a second later, already fully dressed this early in the morning. Usually, you would still be asleep when he started work.

But obviously, today was different.

His eyes shifted throughout the room. Most of your stuff was already gone.

As you walked to each end of the room collecting your stuff, his eyes followed you, watching your every movement.

The moment he saw you grabbing all your ornaments, he felt an ache in his chest.

You didn’t have much in the bedroom, but those little ornaments had you written all over them, and it was one of the few things that made it obvious to him that he wasn’t living alone, and seeing them all getting wiped out made him feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n?” He mumbled out while nervously picking at his nails.

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t. He said he was done talking, and so were you. Last night, you came to terms with this. It took hours, but you just accepted it.

You had to.

Were you going to miss him?

Yes.

Was it going to hurt?

Yes.

But you didn’t want to be in his life if he didn’t want you to be in his.

You continued to pick up the little porcelain cat decorations, and that’s when he decided to slip out from under the covers and walk over to you, standing behind you and taking the figurine from your hand, setting it back down where it had been sitting for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear while back hugging you, the warmth of his bare chest sending electricity throughout your body. “About last night, sweetheart, I was just tired and said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know that it sounds like a shitty excuse, but I really didn’t mean it, baby. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and I hate myself for taking it out on you. I’m so sorry I made you cry.” he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent, the one he’d been missing for months.

You hated yourself for the way you melted into his arms after all the things he said to you last night, but it’s just been so long since you felt his touch on you that you couldn’t help it.

You leaned into him, his body pressing flush against yours. It felt so good being in his strong arms again.

But as fast as you melted, you hardened up even quicker, slipping out of his grasp.

You started packing up your things again, keeping a good distance from him because right now you know you could easily forgive him, but you didn’t want to because there’s no way he could say what he said to you last night and change up so quickly in the morning you weren’t falling for it.

When you walked by him, he quickly extended his hand, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you into his chest, and hugging you closely. “Little one, please forgive me.” he rested his chin atop your head, stroking your back softly. “I need you. Love, without you, I don’t have anything, you know that. Remember, I’ve told you so many times everything I do is all for you. I know I made a mistake, but I’m sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His voice shook slightly, and you could feel just how fast his heart was beating against your chest and the words were on the tip of your tongue, but for the way you feel right now, you think breaking up would just be for the best.

You two were living different lives, and the compatibility wasn’t aligned anymore. As much as you hated living a life without him, the thought of living a life where he was working and you were being neglected was something you hated even more.

Your breath got caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against your neck. “Please,” he begged in between each soft kiss he left on your neck. “Say something, please,” he sniffles softly and rests his palms over your stomach.

You peeled his hand off your body, turning around to tell him that you were done straight to his face, but it was so hard cause he looked absolutely distraught. “Heeseung, I’m leaving, and that’s final.”

The sob he let out almost made you break down in tears yourself. He tried to cover it by cupping his mouth, but it was too late. It was one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever heard from him, and you had to leave now before you ended up forgiving him.

You quickly grabbed your things, wheeling them to the front door with him close behind you. “I can’t let you go, y/n. I-I love you.” his arms were secured around you again, and you stood there, trying to remain as emotionless as possible until he finally let go of you. “So that’s just it? What am I supposed to do without you, baby?” He asked warm tears running down his cheeks he looked so sad and vulnerable.

“You said you were tired of talking, and at this point, so am I. Goodbye, heeseung. I hope work treats you better than I ever could.” You unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Y/n-“

“Enough!” You shouted at him, losing your patience finally and letting all your months of pent-up anger get the best of you.

He stood there completely stunned by you raising your voice at him, and it left him speechless.

Even though his mouth was parted like he wanted to say something, the words just never made their way out.

The last thing you saw before slamming the door was his sad, tearful expression, but this was what he asked for, and he got it.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[honeybcj]

— rosekiller microfic

828 words | nsfw | cw: explicit sexual content, brief strap sucking, mild degradation, mild praise, trans evan rosier (or, the one wear evan straps barty)

this one goes out to @panchashire and his gorgeous, gorgeous brain. mwah, i hope i did them justice. you’ve always got me on my toes when it comes to these two <3

“C’mon now, baby,” Evan urges, swatting playfully at Barty’s hip, “you can take it.”

A helpless whine passes Barty’s lips. His skin is on fire, the muscles in his arms aching from trying to hold himself up. Upon Evan swatting at him, Barty arches his back more, twisting his head over his shoulder to try and get a better look at Evan behind him.

Evan’s on his knees, lazily dragging the tip of the strap over Barty’s hole. It’s agonizing. Pure torture, really. But this much is true: Barty can take it. He wants to. He needs to.

It’s been a whole morning-long debacle of Barty pathetically pawing at Evan for more attention. He’s selfish, a little greedy even, but who wouldn’t be when Evan Rosier is the world’s one and only earth side angel?

And as it goes, Barty should have expected some kind of punishment for his pissy attitude and clinginess. Although, it may not be that much of a punishment, depending on who you ask.

“Rosie, if you don’t—” Barty starts, but his jaw drops, mouth falling open in a silent moan as Evan finally pushes past Barty’s rim, sinking all the way to the hilt, Evan’s hips pressed flush against Barty’s ass.

Yes, Evan might have been teasing him up until this point, but the second he’s buried deep inside Barty? By all means, begin begging for mercy.

Barty does say a prayer, a silent one, that Evan drags him through the gates of Hell before he’s finished with Barty.

Thorough, meticulous. Just how Barty likes it. Evan is precise, fucking Barty with reckless abandon, barely giving him a moment to breathe. It’s not like Barty needs it anyway. He’d gladly spend his last minutes being fucked into the mattress, his final thoughts and feelings chock full of unabashed pleasure and desire.

What a way to go.

It’s hard to believe that only half an hour ago Barty was on his knees sucking Evan’s strap like it was his damn job. Getting all sloppy, spit dripping down his chin, only for Evan to wipe it up with his fingers and shove it right back into Barty’s mouth.

But now it doesn’t even matter. Not when Evan is fucking Barty within an inch of his life. The tip of the strap skillfully and repeatedly hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves that has Barty moaning like the godforsaken whore that he is.

And that’s exactly how Evan calls it.

“Such a good fuckin’ whore for me, baby,” Evan coos, gripping Barty’s hips to pull back each time he thrusts forward. “Takin’ me like a champ.”

It’s all white light and stardust when Evan loosens one of his hands, wrapping around to Barty’s front to take his cock in his hand. Far too soon, embarrassingly so, Barty feels the warmth pool in the pit of his stomach, flames licking up his spine.

“Ev, Rosie, yes. F-For you. Just for you,” Barty babbles, arms giving out from under him, his chest colliding with the mattress.

“That’s right. So good for me,” Evan praises, the sound of palm against skin echoing in the air when Evan slaps, hard, at Barty’s ass.

It’s a sweet kind of sting—the kind Barty always wants more of. Call him a masochist, and he wouldn’t bat an eye once.

There’s something to be said about the way Evan looks once he’s hooked the harness around his hips. Blue silicone just begging to be touched, and who is Barty to say no? It’s not just that, though. It’s the light in Evan’s eyes when he knows what is to come, the swelling of pride in his chest that he has the ability to render Barty boneless.

Barty’s pretty sure he will never get over that.

A choked moan erupts from the back of Barty’s throat, his skin tingling from exertion. A thin sheen of sweat coats his body. Apparently, whatever animalistic sounds are leaving Barty’s body are like music to Evan’s ears because he’s practically purring behind Barty, not wasting a single second in making sure that Barty stays full.

“Oh, sweetheart. Already close? You wanted it that bad? Just look at you,” Evan muses, punctuating his last words with four harsh thrusts that send Barty right over the edge.

He spills into Evan’s hand, letting out a sinful moan as Evan fucks him through it, nearly reaching the point of overstimulation. It feels good though. And Barty would take it. He’d take anything Evan gives him.

Barty lets out a breathless giggle, Evan still supporting his hips as he pulls out. Barty can feel the silicone rubbing against the back of his leg as Evan drapes himself over Barty’s back, lips brushing over the shell of Barty’s ear.

“Think you can take it again, baby?” Evan whispers, voice heavy with amusement.

Barty whimpers, rocking his hips back against Evan. His voice is quite as he responds with the only correct answer, “You fucking bet.”

[danikamariewrites]

Hi! I have a Cassian request. Could you a do request that's somewhat spoiler free? I'm about midway in acomaf( I know late to the game lol) I've got a good amount of fics reblogged but I've also been nervous to read them. Maybe reader is rhys's little sister and he made clear rule from day one that is inner circle isn't allowed to touch her. But reader Cass have been secretly dating and then their mating bond goes into effect so they can't necessarily hide it anymore. Maybe feyre is the only one that knows until then.

Secrets I Keep

Cassian x Rhys’s sister!reader

Notes: Cass is the best bat boy for the brother’s best friend’s trope! I know you asked this a while ago so I need to know if you’ve finished yet, ACOMAF is one of my favorites.

Warnings:

Bidding Feyre goodnight you shut the door behind her. Letting out a sigh of relief and slumping against the door you look to the closet. When Feyre had come to your bedroom over an hour ago thats where you had stuffed your poor boyfriend. Stalking over to the closet you thanked the Mother that the newly turned fae female couldn’t pick up on Cassian’s scent.

Yanking the door open you immediately spot Cassian curled up, trying to hide behind your more formal gowns. His wings, unfortunately, gave the General away. As well as his long, muscular legs that he attempted to tuck close to his chest.

Stifling a laugh with an unconvincing throat clearing sound Cass pokes his head out from behind the layers of silk and tule. “You can come out now.” Cassian lets out a sigh, groaning as he stood from the tightness in his joints. You laugh at him, a teasing remark already forming in your mind.

Cass towers over you, giving you a playful smirk. “What are you laughing at, princess?” “Just an old man and his creaky joints.” He shakes his head at you, quickly grabbing you and flinging you over his shoulder, tickling your sides. Giggling like crazy you playfully demand he put you down. Cassian throws you on your bed, crawling over your body to press kisses all over your face.

Getting a weird feeling you notice a new source of light from the corner of your eye. Turning your head you see Feyre standing in your doorway, eyes wide and mouth open in shock at the sight before her. You hit Cassian’s chest to get him to stop. Noticing Feyre’s presence Cass turns to her.

Sitting up, your mouth opens and closes, at a loss for what to say. “Don’t tell Rhys!” You blurt out. Feyre nods, slowly backing out of your room, “I got your back, don’t worry.” She says with a smirk.

——

It’s been over a month since Feyre was last in the Night Court. Now that she’s a permanent resident you’ve been helping her adjust to life here and working for your brother.

Today you decided to make a rare appearance before noon, joining the group for training early.

You stayed off to the side for a bit, watching Feyre spar with Cassian. You noticed some of Cassian’s signature moves as they fought. Smiling to yourself you remember when Cass started training you.

Yeah, you’d had some training but your father didn’t want you near Illyrian. Especially because of your wings. You had inherited the same ability as Rhys - being able to call your wings on command - but you also had a fear that one day you might be forced to show them in the camps. And nothing good could come from that.

When the boys came home from the first war Cassian took it upon himself to make sure you were a warrior. Rhys had told both Azriel and Cass you were not in the dating pool. But the sparks flew during your training and you couldn’t stay away. Your relationship finally started a year ago. Ever since you’ve been in a state of bliss, blindly in love for the first time in your life.

Rhys landed, his wings beating loudly, commanding attention. You roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Hello Feyre darling. Are you ready for another lesson?” He holds out a hand for her to take, his wings disappearing in that familiar dark mist. You had missed seeing his magic. You missed him.

Feyre nodded, taking his hand, leaving you and Cassian alone. As they walked past Feyre sent you a subtle wink you prayed Rhys didn’t catch.

As you and Cass sparred you grabbed you around the waist, bringing you to the ground. You fought against his bulky frame, trying to get leverage to flip him. “Give up yet, princess? You look like you’re running out of steam.”

“You wish idiot!” you retort, still struggling. Cassian laughs, “Wow, idiot? That’s all you got today?”

You weakly punch at his thick thighs caging in your torso. “I’d think of something else, but a giant is cutting off the air supply to my brain.” Cassian laughed again as you continued to push at him. He wasn’t really crushing you, but good gods your boyfriend is an immovable mountain.

Cassian went ridged above you. Noticing the tension in his muscles you stop, gazing up at him with a worried look. “Cass? What’s wrong?” You ask softly. His gaze seemed far away, distracted. His jaw unhinged in shock. You slide out from under him to stand in front of him. Holding his face in your hands you tilt it so he’s looking up at you.

“Cassian, you’re freaking me out. What is wrong?” You shake him a little to snap him back into himself. Cassian grabbed your wrists, pressing kisses across your knuckles then your palms. “It-the bond. It snapped, for you.”

Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Your jaw dropping to match Cassian’s shock. Seconds later you feel that warm, golden thread hum to life in your chest, wrapping snugly around your heart. You fling your arms around Cassian’s neck, pushing closer to his body, trying to be one with your mate.

Cassian’s tears fall against your cheek. You move to pull away from him but Cass holds on to you tighter. “Why are you crying baby?” You coo. “This is just-this is the happiest day of my life.” He whispered.

You squeeze him tighter, turning to press a kiss against his cheek. Feeling unsatisfied with that small show of affection Cass threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you to face him, pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

Breaking away for air you rest your forehead against his, both letting out breathless laughs. “I love you.” He says, pressing his lips to yours again. This one quicker and rushed, like he can’t get enough of you. “I love you more, Cass.”

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (03)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, drama, OC cusses excessively so watch out

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x mom!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

←Previous Chapter (02) | Next Chapter (04) →

****

Eight Years Ago; 2015

There was a small food cart on the outskirts of Incheon where two best friends frequent.

“Oi, shithead. You’ve been fucking staring at your food for twenty-two minutes already. What the fuck is wrong with you? ”

Jungkook whined, complaining about how creepy it was that his best friend knew how long he looked at his food and how you spit out three profanities in one sentence.

“Shut up.” your face turned red, embarrassed that your habit of knowing the exact time was showing. You developed this meticulousness back when you were writing your thesis paper. Time was precious. Thanks fuck you were done with it.

You graduated today. You and Jungkook were currently eating noodles to celebrate. Your best friend initially demanded that you cook his favorite crab spring roll, but your hands were tied. The graduation ceremony took forever to finish; your professors and friends even pulled you to celebrate after.

You were not a killjoy, but you didn’t want to end this day without seeing your best friend, so you quietly ditched the party and sought Jungkook’s company instead.

“You really came to see me. What a good girl you are.” Jungkook cooed when he saw you waiting at his doorstep. “ Here, your graduation gift.”

“HA!?” You were dumbfounded upon seeing his present. “You got me a choker?!”

“Of course! You are so busy these days. I got you a collar so you wouldn’t forget who you belong to.” Jungkook said in jest to conceal his selfishness. He wished you could spend more time with him, not just fleeting moments like eating spicy noodles in a small food cart, which he didn’t even like.

“Why the fuck did you order it if you don’t like spicy noodles!?” A vein popped into your head.

Jungkook groaned, “You know how much I hate upsetting a pretty lady.”

The ‘pretty lady’ Jungkook was referring to was an old lady called Louisa, the owner of the ADA--the food cart. This place was near your high school alma mater. You and Jungkook still went here despite graduating high school many years ago.

Jungkook usually ordered the shop’s best-seller crab spring rolls, which inspired you to make your version of said food. You remembered begging Louisa to teach you how to make it, but the lady couldn’t just give away her family’s recipe. She taught you the basics, and that was where you started until you got Jungkook’s approval.

Content with your version, Jungkook no longer ordered spring rolls whenever you two ate at ADA. He preferred their crab noodles, but only spicy foods were left now since you arrived late. Jungkook refused to change stalls because he adored Louisa.

“You’re really something.” You bought a can of milk for Jungkook to counter the spiciness of his noodles.

Jungkook pinched your cheeks in appreciation. He was happy that he managed to take a few bites and ignore the old man across the street who was singing out of tune.

Natsume was what the old man called himself. He had been doing his business across ADA for a long time. The only reason he wasn’t shooed away was that his performance wasn’t a song at all. He was making up random tunes while expressing what the ‘future’ of some people would be like.

In short, he was a fortune teller, and all his ‘predictions’ apparently came true.

Jungkook didn’t dare believe him. He got particularly annoyed at Natsume when he predicted his future and yours. He sang, “Fall out, fall out, you two will have a fallout. One so nasty it will break your hearts, with no hopes of returning ~.”

Jungkook still cringed every time he remembered that. He looked at you, ready to ridicule the fortune teller in front of you.

Who would have thought this was the start of the fortune teller’s prediction coming true? You shouldn’t have opened your mouth, but you did, saying, “Jungkook, what are your plans for the future?”

You were influenced by the main topic at the graduation party earlier. Everyone you knew was planning their future. You feared Jungkook wasn’t doing the same—that he wouldn’t belong.

“Haven’t I told you already? Jimin-hyung and I are committed to our business.”

Your jaw automatically ticked upon hearing Jimin’s name. You never really hated anyone, but Jimin might be the exception. Jimin was why Jungkook dropped out of university. He coaxed Jungkook into emptying his bank account for Bighit, their Business Process Outsourcing venture.

Now Jungkook was broke, only relying on his small interest in Port Mafia.

“How about school? Don’t you plan on going—”

“No.” Jungkook ruthlessly cut you off. The move didn’t deter you from speaking your mind, though.

“Why not? You only need to finish two semesters to graduate. It’s a pity you’re settling with just this.”

“Just what?” Jungkook raised his brow, irritation flaring up. He had a hunch of what you were implying.

Sure enough, you swallowed hard to cover your nervousness. “With this…I mean…dropouts are…” You struggled to find the right words to say.

Jungkook huffed, supplying the words for you. “…are what? Stupid? Lazy? Unambitious? Or a waste of time?”

“Oi, don’t put words into my mouth.” You hissed, getting pissed off too.

“But that’s what you wanted to say, right? You think lowly of me. You’re just like the rest of them.”

Jungkook heard all kinds of snide remarks when he dropped out of university. His adviser even called him a lost cause— that he would never be successful if he didn’t finish school.

  Bullshit.

Jungkook felt acid crawling up to his throat. “People like you think you’re above everyone just cause you have a degree, right? Arrogant.”

You lost your composure because of how hurtful he was being.

“So what if I’m arrogant!?” You dropped your chopsticks, no longer in the mood to eat. “I’ve earned a degree. I’m finished with my commitment, unlike you, who quit and only settled with faking smiles and licking the butt holes of people richer than you!”

“You--!” Jungkook clenched his fist. He always knew his best friend had a sharp mouth. You said things that made sense, but damn, they hurt. This wasn’t the first time you said something biting, but it was the first time you had hurt Jungkook’s feelings.

It was too late when you realized what you had said. Jungkook’s eyes were already red. You knew Jungkook hated fake pleasantries and wooing greedy businessmen, yet you used those things as a weapon to hurt him.

Truly a low blow.

“Screw you.” Jungkook spat before storming off.

Feeling defeated, you didn’t run after him, deciding to just go home alone and leave Jungkook to cool off.

But the following day, you found yourself standing in front of Jungkook’s apartment. The thing about you was you couldn’t bear fighting for real with your best friend. Bickering with him was fine, but you’d rather die than really hurt Jungkook.

You rang the doorbell. It was early in the morning. 4am. Every second that passed knowing you and Jungkook were not okay was like a stab in your heart.

Surely, Jungkook had calmed down. If he hadn’t, you would accept any kind of punishment. You just wanted to see him.

“Come on.” You pressed the doorbell once again. It never took Jungkook two rings to open the door for you, so you seriously considered breaking in.

But to your delight, the door swung open before you could do something stupid.

“What is it?” Stone cold voice hit you on the face.

A lot. You wanted to convey many things, such as apologizing and saying Jungkook had misunderstood your point. However, looking at your best friend’s still angry face left you no choice but to lower your eyes. Your heart felt like it was pricked by thousands of needles.

You knew you were in the wrong. You could only raise the paper bag you were holding.

“I made crab spring rolls. Do you want them?”

“What makes you think I want them?” Jungkook crossed his arms, which caused you to swallow hard.

You bit your lip too, looking at Jungkook despite your guilt. “You’re right, you might not want them anymore, but I can only bring this hoping you’d accept my apology and also...also to—”

You weren’t planning to bring this up while still outside Jungkook’s home, but you couldn’t bear to look at his angry face anymore.

You voiced out your trump card. Your last resort. “—to ask you if you’re willing to guide me on investing at Bighit?”

As expected, Jungkook was shocked. His lips parted wide. “Why? You don’t mind licking butt holes with me?”

“Oh, for Fuck’s sake!” You pushed the paper bag into Jungkook’s chest. “I was wrong, okay? I’m an arrogant devil. ”

You craned your neck, purposely showing off the choker adorning your neck.

Fire danced in Jungkook’s eyes. He lowered the paper bag to cover the bulge in his sweatpants.

Fucking hell, you’re so hot. Jungkook scolded himself, forced to contour his expression to neutral.

“Then what are you waiting for? Come in.”

Needless to say, you left Jungkook’s apartment feeling grateful that you had a choker to cover some obvious bite marks.

Present, 2023:

“Pwetty lady! Spring yoll! Bin-bin! Want!” A certain someone was banging the top of ADA’s table, almost as if he couldn’t wait for even one more second.

“Hey, kiddo. You already ate seven pieces.” You folded your arms across your chest, your brows furrowing at the small child sitting before you.

The said the child pouted his lips, his eyes losing their sparks.

Jungkook’s sparkling eyes were still vivid in your mind, probably because you had just finished reminiscing about what had happened five years ago. As a result, you couldn’t help but associate this kid with your former best friend.

You always thought that Jungkook’s eyes could replace the stars. It was your weakness. Those eyes made you want to dig your heart out and give it to Jungkook for free. The universe knew about this, so why must you suffer it the second time?

Why did Soobin, the kid in front of you, have to have the same sparkly eyes as Jungkook?

“Spring roll! Want!” They even had the same favorite food.

You scoffed. Like father like son, huh?

“A brat dares to make demands when he can’t pronounce the words right? Spring yoll, my ass.” You mocked the kid.

Soobin ignored you. He continued banging on the table.

“Spring yoll! Bin-bin! Want! Spring yoll!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll buy you more. Just you wait, young master.” You playfully rolled your eyes, giving in to the request of your adoptive son.

“Is it that good?” You took one piece of spring roll. It had been many years since you last tasted this. Back then, you’d rather have Jungkook eat them all.

“Good! Very good!” Soobin stuffed another piece inside his mouth, clearly enjoying it.

The kid was right. The crab spring roll was delicious. It tasted the same way it did five years ago. You unconsciously gripped your phone, fixing your gaze on the screen as if waiting for a New Year’s miracle.

But it never came.

Last night, you met up with Jungkook, hoping to talk to him. Unexpectedly, Jungkook was drunk.

Now that he was sober, you thought he would call.

What wishful thinking.

“But nothing’s changed.” You thought to yourself as you looked around the place. ADA was still open for business; its famous spring rolls were still loved by many. Even Natsume was still singing across the street. The only difference was that you couldn’t hear the old man singing.

ADA expanded its business. They now had alfresco dining. You chose to eat inside the restaurant, afraid Soobin would catch a cold.

Everything stayed the same except for people. Back then, you went to ADA with your best friend. Years later, you went to ADA with your former best friend’s kid.

You could only swallow the bitterness down your stomach.

“Full! Wanna go home! Sleep!” Soobin said after eating the last piece of spring roll.

You hummed, “We’ll go home in a while. Count one to one hundred first.”

Soobin threw dirty looks at you as if to say, “This young master doesn’t know how to count!” You laughed a little. Of course, he couldn’t count up to a hundred yet. He was still so young.

So young.

But someone had already missed a few years of Soobin’s life.

You looked at your phone again.

Still no call.

“Alright, Bin-bin. Let’s go home.”

At last, you and your son left the food shop. As you two walked out, the horrible singing voice of the fortune teller reached your ears.

His lyrics were as nasty as before. Soobin covered his ears in annoyance, asking you to walk faster as he didn’t want to hear Natsume sing:

ring, ring, ring

the phone rings

the boy saw black

and the girl saw red

ring, ring, ring

the phone rings

how cruel it is

to have you waiting

for someone who can’t

 even

breathe.

****

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A/N: comments motivate me to write. leave some if you can ~~ ❤️

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Chiori and Yae with a reader that tries to slack off all the time

characters: Chiori / Yae Miko x gn!reader (separate)

a/n: Chiori is such an asshole and I absolutely adore her. She’s like if they gave Stannis Baratheon hair and a second sword.

(I wrote this like... 2 months ago and finally finished it. A total henry move to write 90% of smth and then let it rot in my WIP folder for months, if you ask me.)

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Chiori

While the two of you matched when it came to radiating calm energy, the way they came out in quite contrasting ways. Where the Seamstress worked hard at following her passions, you were easygoing, where she was direct and brutally honest, you were charming and always said what the other party wanted to hear. Where she was Chiori, you were you.

So when you once again found yourself in her Boutique, chatting away with customers and somehow managing to make them spend more than they had planned, only to up and vanish from one moment to the next, Chiori couldn’t help but feel like she had an inkling of an idea to as were she would find you.

“What are you doing here?”, Chiori’s voice suddenly rang out, waking you from your slumber as you slowly looked up at her, your eyes still half closed and yet still managing to make out the vexed look on her face.

“I was taking a small break. Do you need me for something, Chiori?” you asked in a completely innocent tone, an unwavering smile plastered on your face as she stared you down before signaling to the once locked door.

“And where did you get the keys for the room?”

“They were in the door, so I let myself in. Oh- Was I not supposed to go here?” You realized with widened eyes, glancing between her and the door before shooting her an apologetic smile.

“Yeah no, don’t do that again. The next time you want to take a nap, do it at home”, came her response almost immediately.

Putting the whole “sneaking off and going into a locked room to take a nap away from people” situation aside, what annoyed Chiori even more was how impossible to read you were. If she was sure you were lying to her, she’d have thrown you out long ago. Were you really clueless enough to let yourself into a room or were you simply playing dumb? 

“Ugh. If you want to stand around and do nothing, come with me. I’m in need of a model right now.”

Yae Miko

While you were certainly far from being as lethargic as a certain ninja-girl loitering around the shrine every so often, you had your moments of supreme languidness. And while there were times she felt the urge to help you out by giving you a bit of motivation to get your day started, more often than not, Yae found herself amused by the lengths you took to go unnoticed by your superiors.

“Oh my, you look exhausted. You must have been working hard to get all of this paperwork finished. I do hope I’m not being a nuisance right now”, Yae observed as she entered the room, her voice both soft in nature while masking her mischievous intentions, letting herself into your office only to see you half-slumped over your desk with finished paperwork surrounding you.

That being said, Yae had no doubt it didn’t take you as long as your dramatic rendition of an exhausted warrior would suggest, considering the clever ways you found to make your work easier. So often had you inadvertently impressed her with your way of working that she wouldn’t put it past you to reinvent the wheel if it could shave off a few seconds from your work.

“No, I just now finished my work”, you were quick to soothe her worries, and yet by the way you rubbed your eyes awake, the Kitsune couldn’t help but doubt your words.

As expected, you had learned from your mistakes. The last time you were caught finishing early, you got a few sentences of praise and an extra load of work, the way your self-satisfied smile turned into one barely holding on as you tried to mask whatever emotions washed over you on the inside, being exactly the kind of subtle reactions she loved to watch people go through.

“You should know that you are truly a commendable employee. So, to reward you for your hard work, I should give you a promotion”, Yae spoke before shooting you a small smile as if to praise you, and yet by the time her words registered in your brain, your mouth was left hanging wide open.

“Thank you, but that’s really not necessary. I can think of a dozen people more suited than me-”

“You’re selling yourself short. I’m confident you’re more than qualified for the position”, Yae quickly cut you off, her expression unchanging as she slowly turned around. “Or… Is it that you do not want more work?” She added as her smile grew wider, barely hiding her enjoyment anymore.

“No… thank you”, you responded with a meek sigh, realizing the futility of fighting it.

Once you’d take a closer look at your new privileges and responsibilities, you’d surely realize that she made sure most of your new workload wouldn’t take nearly as long as your current one if handled in an intelligent manner, and yet, when she saw your current reaction, a part of her found herself hoping you wouldn’t realize anytime soon.

By the time Yae reached the door however, she found herself halting in her tracks, quietly humming to herself as she seemed to think about something before finally turning to face you once again.

“I do suppose you did work well today. Take the rest of the day off.”

[cherriesformatt]

birds of a feather || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: reader is having a hard time but she knows she can come back to her safe place every time

warnings: none just fluff and bit of sadness

word count: 1,3k

a/n: hope you like it kinda put my heart in it

🍒

Have you ever just thought that you are done? Like you can't deal with shit anymore and there is nothing that will give you motivation? I felt like this for a long time until I met Matt. Matt started to just be there for me. First as a friend then as a partner. We met in high school when both of us started ditching class because we didn't feel comfortable in school. We would just give each other weird glances and walk different ways until our paths met in the park. We would spent hours hanging out by the Fresh Pond. We talked and had lunch together few times a week. I was waiting for this time because I wasn't able to talk to anyone like I could talk to Matt and I knew he understood me.

I didn't realize I loved him until he came to my house to say goodbye when he and his brothers were moving to LA. I wasn't mad at him, he was chasing his dreams with two most important people for him. They were already successful on YouTube by that time so I understood they wanted more. I was proud of him but I was also dying inside. I didn't want to tell him about my feelings also knowing he broke up with his girlfriend to only focus on their career.

As it turned out not only I realized the strong feeling for one another. But it took us months to confess to each other. I was scared to move away from home but I knew I could do everything for him. So I did. I took everything I had and moved to LA. Got shitty apartment, part-time job and started attending Uni.

Here we are now. Two years in. I had a shitty job, better apartment and best boyfriend and my best friend by my side.

"Ur do wrong about it" I rolled my eyes putting pieces of legos together.

"No, I am not" He said trying to figure out how to connect pieces.

"I do not understand what in your head tells you not to use instructions" I said looking down at him. He was laying down on the blanket while I was sitting cross-legged next to him.

We were in the park near his house on a little lego date. We just came back from Boston few days ago and since that I didn't see him. I was busy with going back to work life after vacation and he as well had stuff going on. And today was a day we finally were alone. Because all of Boston trip we were with friends, his family or my family or I was alone because he had a boys trip. It has been a long time since we could just spend day together and I missed just talking to him.

"Because I know I can do it by myself" He said and I just shook my head and put my finished piece on the blanket.

"Here I am done mr.I can do it by myself" I smiled showing off my lego Pokemon.

"Oh shut up will you?" He laughed and took the instructions. Because of course I was right.

I laid down so my head would rest on his legs. I watched the sky.

"I need to quit my job" I said first time out loud what was on my mind.

'Well...I told you that already, you're not happy there and I know you could to so much better than that or just noting and stay with me?" He looked at me and started to play with my hair putting legos away.

"Matt... you know I do not want you to be my sugar daddy we already talked about this. This is not an option for me. And yes I know you told me that but.. I do not know I feel like my boss is even worst after I took my time off." I said.

"Did something happened?" He asked me clearly concerned.

"Nothing major, you know how I only usually did computer job and prepared meetings for others and for him. Well... he made me be a leader of the meeting...I had a stomach ache for the rest of the day and throw up when I got home because I was so anxious but in the same time I did it and it went well" I said and took a deep breath.

"Why you didn't say anything?" He asked me softly squeezing my hand.

"You were streaming and I didn't want to interrupt" I said.

"I would pick up the phone anyway, you know that.. And about this... he is an asshole but honey... I am so proud of you for doing that I know how hard it must have been for you. Remember my first tour show? I thought I couldn't do it. But you knew I could. And I also know you can do more than this job y/n." He said looking at me and smiled.

"You think?" I asked.

"I know. You have a brilliant ideas and all the time someone else is taking credits for them because you are to kind and you give them away for others to present. Sweets I know you could do that yourself and take all the credits. Of course few first times will be hard but then it will get better and I know you can do it...You deserve so much better than what you are doing now..." He said and I smiled.

"Thank you..." I said and I leaned to peck his lips.

"You do not have to thank me...I will always believe in you" He hugged me.

We talked more until sun was setting down and we came back brining dinner home for everyone.

"Hello! did you miss me already?" I said walking into the leaving room where Chris and Nick were doing something on their laptops.

" Not really I had my Pepsi all to myself for 4 days" Chris smiled at me and I smiled back.

"Yes we did, the only sane person in this household, hi" Nick waved at me and I smiled at him as well.

I was an only child and I was beyond happy that with Matt came two of his brothers, well three but Justin wasn't leaving with him. I felt like I had brothers my own thanks to that and I knew that they cared about me as much as I did for them.

We spend some time with them and then we went to Matt's room.

"I know you had a lot on your mind today so..." he walked to the nightstand and took out our journals.

I smiled and sat on his bed. He gave me mine and took his as well. I rested my back on the headboard and open my journal. I took one of the pens he put between us and just stared to write. I loved that we could just do this together in silence. I rested my head on his shoulder after some time.

"Matt... would you still love me if I was a worm?" I asked.

I moved away a little and sat on my knees so I could look at him.

"Yes? But you would have to forgive me if I squeeze you. You know how wiggly I am in bed when I sleep" He said deadly serious.

"You are so stupid I swear to god...." I laughed looking past him.

"Dear diary... he said he would still love me if I was a worm ❤️" I wrote and closed my journal and throw it across the bed.

He smiled at me and put his journal away as well and he pulled me so I would straddle his lap.

"Til I rot away, dead and buried...." We both said in the same time and I just laughed and kissed him resting my forehead on his.

[buuniebaby]

sex tape headcons 😉😉

PRETTY ON CAMERA 🎀 HAMZAH X READER

includes: rough sex, sex tapes, choking, fem!reader, ft sex, unprotected sex

wordcount: 2.2k

as much as hamzah hates to admit it, he loves being on camera - and that doesn’t stop at just youtube videos.

despite the promise to himself he made mental note of in high school to never send nudes, it’s become his new addiction. he loves to show off every inch of himself to you, he loves the praise you give in response to seeing his body, and he especially loves knowing that he can make you go feral with a simple video.

on a similar note, he fucking adores seeing you on camera. he likes the way you get shy when being recorded, whether the audience is slushies or it’s a video just for him. he’s obsessed with the pretty lingerie you wear for him and the way your tiny hands caress your body while you think of him. it makes him want to fucking destroy you.

ever since you two have gotten into the habit of filming videos for each other, it’s almost like something’s awoken inside of him. an urge of sorts, to make a fantasy he’s kept bottled up forever real. he wants both of you on camera, together. however, there’s one problem preventing him from asking:

hamzah is a pussy.

but thankfully, you’re just as horny as he is nervous.

the topic doesn’t actually come up until a day where your boyfriend is particularly needy. he’s sleeping over at martin’s tonight - a little too long without you for his liking.

fortunately for him, martin and mandy had forgotten to get a few items for their next video, so he had a bit of alone time. as soon as they’re out the door, his shirt is pulled off and he’s facetiming you.

as your phone buzzes to life, you’re snapped out of your doomscrolling session, wearing just one of hamzah’s large hoodies and a pair of panties. you smirk a bit at the sight of his contact popping up on your screen and sit up.

“hi, baby.” he says, voice deep. “I miss you.”

“i miss you too,” you reply back, in a more light tone. “but ill be with you tomorrow..” you say, smirking. you’ve got the same idea as him.

“are martin and mandy home?” you ask. as much as you want hamzah right now, you really don’t want to deal with the consequences of his best friend overhearing you two.

“nah, they left a little while ago.. forgot to buy some stuff for the video. ..soo, I have you all to myself.” he says, smirking.

“yeah?” you lean into the camera, doe eyes sparkling up at him.

“yeah. y’know, I missed hearing your voice, baby. it’s enough to get me hard.” he mutters, voice deep and breathy. it only makes you want him more.

you can only bring yourself to reply with a simple, “mhmm?” as your hands reach into your panties.

“yeah.. fuck. get that fucking hoodie off too. wanna see all of you.” he mutters back. you can tell he’s touching himself now too.

immediately, the hoodie is on the floor, bare chest exposed to the camera. hamzah takes this as an opportunity to change his position as well, camera giving you a direct view of him laying on his bed, sweatpants pulled down as he grinds his cock into a pillow.

“fuck, miss those tits. you want that? my mouth on them?” he says, breathing heavy.

you moan at this, grinding down into your fingers - they aren’t nearly his size, but it’s the best you can do for right now.

“yes, fuck- keep talking.” is all you can utter out.

“yeah? wish this pillow was your pretty little pussy, you know that? wish you were right here right now-“ he chokes, “fucking rutting in this pillow, just wish it was you, baby.” the visual of his hips thrusting, starting to get desperate paired with his words is destroying you, but the next thing he says is what really does it.

“gonna fill you up when I get back home. gonna pump my come into you, until you can’t take it anymore - fuck.”

fuck.

you see his hips twitch as you bite your fist, seemingly both close to finishing. you can hear a faint “shit- shit.” from the other side of the camera, and with that, you feel yourself finish all over your fingers. just as you’re done, you see hamzah’s thrusts pause as he takes a breath, and you can only guess that he just came as well.

after both collecting your breath, you mutter out a simple, “wish we were together. instead of facetime, we could just like, record it.” he continues to lay down, still recovering, but once he actually processes what you just said he perks up.

“wait.. like, actually? you’d do that?” he asks eagerly, eyes slightly widening.

“I mean.. I wouldn’t ever post it or anything. just like.. something to watch when you’re not here. only if you’re comfortable though.” you casually reply, and suddenly he’s already hard again.

“im very comfortable. incredibly comfortable with that actually.” he says, excitedly, and it makes you giggle.

“get your camera charged for tomorrow then.” you say, a sly smile forming. you’re enjoying the way you have a hold on him. “oh- and make sure you bring a new sd card, not the one you use for filming. i have a feeling we’re gonna make a lot of footage.”

“yes ma’am,” he says, making a salute sign with his hands. even when he’s bricked, he knows exactly how to make you laugh.

hamzah is counting down the minutes until he gets to see you when the next day comes. martin and mandy are even shocked at his eagerness to get out of the house, joking that he hates them now.

after what feels like the longest drive he’s ever taken, hamzah arrives home. he’s speeding through the door, into the living room, only to see you’re nowhere to be found; that is, until he checks his bedroom.

he slowly opens the door to a sight he never wants to forget - you’re sprawled out on his bed, baby pink lingerie barely covering your body, as you fix your hair in your phone camera. the sound of the door creaking open catches your attention, and you look up at him with those big, sparkly deer eyes. you giggle at his mouth, jaw dropped at the sight of you. “missed me?”

“fuck, yes.” is all he can mutter as he crawls onto the bed beside you, pulling the camera out of his backpack and then carelessly tossing the rest of his stuff off the bed. he pulls you into a sloppy kiss, immediately making up for the time he was gone.

you breathlessly manage to pull him off of you. giggling, you whine, “hamzahh, you haven’t even started recording yet.”

“shit- forgot.” he grabs the camera and fumbles with it for a second, then places it on the side of the bed. you see a red light go off as he pulls you into another kiss.

your lips trace his as your tiny hands find their way to the bottom of his sweatshirt, pulling it off to reveal nothing underneath. he begins to undress you as well, big hands carefully tracing the dainty lace as he pulls it off you. he leans down to put his mouth on one of your tits, suckling on it like a newborn baby. one of his hands goes to the neglected breast, and the other to grip your neck. you gasp as his strong, veiny hands wrap around you, taking your breath away.

he pulls away from your chest, leaving you panting. you can see him mess with the strings of his sweatpants until they’re untightened, then pull them down, showing his erection through his boxers.

“hamzah…” is all you can say. he’s the only thing on your mind right now.

“baby..” he mutters back.

his strong hands push you back into the bed, laying you down. you look up at him, confused, watching him get closer to your face. he caresses your cheek for a second, moving your hair out of your eyes.

“so pretty.. my girl.” he mutters, love in every word that comes out of his mouth.

he gently palms himself through his boxers before slowly pulling out his cock. all you can do is stare at his dick, precum glistening from the tip. he drags it across your lips, and by instinct, you open your mouth. you lap at it, gently, but hamzah has a different idea.

“open.” is all hamzah says before suddenly, his whole cock is down your throat. you make a shocked sound, but then settle to the feeling of the shaft’s intrusion. he starts slow, but begins to thrust in and out of your mouth rapidly, giving you small breaks when he pulls out for air.

“so fucking hot.. feels so wet around me..” he groans, using your face as his own personal pocket pussy for the camera. the sounds of your gagging only turns him on more, hips stuttering as he thrusts.

“mhmm, mhn, mmgh- fuck! fucking- perfect little throat, all mine, my perfect girl-“ he says as you feel a twitch from inside your mouth. his hips stutter as he cums down your throat, with a “god- all mine. fuckkk.”

as he slowly slides his cock out of your mouth, his fluids coat the outside of your lips. he grabs the camera, showing it your face. you stick your tongue out, showing the lack of cum in your mouth. he pets your cheek again, deep voice muttering a “good girl, swallowing it all for me.” all you can do is give the camera a fucked-out smile.

hamzah repositions you two so you’re sitting in his lap, the camera facing your ass. you kiss him, sloppy, already feeling drunk off of the feeling of his cock fucking your mouth. as the two of you make out, he grips your ass, moving your hips against his lap. he pulls his sweatpants and boxers all the way down, making the connection skin-to-skin.

he lets out shaky breath before he grinds his bare cock against your pussy a few more times. “you’re gonna be the fucking death of me.” is what he mutters before sliding in, exhaling a loud, “fuckkk” with it.

your ass bounces on top of him, making a loud “plap” sound every time you sink down onto his pelvis. his strong hands grasp onto your hips and lift your body up and down as he thrusts into you in unison. his hips speed up as do yours, until you’re panting on top of his cock, desperately making any kind of friction.

“ah- ah- ahh- fuck!” you whimper with each thrust, only making hamzah get more aggressive. he feels your cunt tighten around him, and thrusts as deep as he possibly can while you cum.

hamzah lets out a deep, breathy laugh as you nuzzle into his shoulder. he rubs your back gently, but then whispers a soft, “i still need to cum again, baby.”

you perk up again, preparing yourself for round 2, but hamzah is already manhandling you into place. he maneuvers you into all fours on the bed, then grabs the camera.

he records as he slides the tip of his cock against your pussy, then shoves his cock inside you. you let out a loud gasp at the intrusion. he uses the other hand to pull on your hair, aggressively yanking your head back, making you look him in the eyes.

“want you to beg for it-“ he says, out of breath, “beg for my cum.”

“mhmm.. please.. need it hamzah!” you say, whimpering and whining as your cunt tightens around his cock. he’s animalistic, thrusting into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you.

“more.. fuck- more, baby. need to hear you while I cum.” he says.

“please hamzah, I need it, I need your cum inside me so bad. fuck- ruin me- ahhh, breed me!” you whine out, shaking from the way he pounds you. you groan as you feel him cum inside, seed filling you up and making you feel whole.

hamzah turns off the camera and puts it off to the side, still inside you. he doesn’t move, just lays on top of you, pressing soft kisses to your back.

“love you..” he mutters, “so fucking much.”

you softly whine back, face still pressed into the mattress. he slowly pulls out, his cum buried so deep inside of you nothing even leaks out. you try to sit up, but hamzah pushes you back down. “hold on- there’s.. one more thing i want to do.”

you look back at him, confused, and watch him as he grabs the camera and starts recording your ass. he slowly spreads your folds open, and after a second, cum begins to drip out. a quiet “fuck..” is all he can mutter, watching his seed drip out of his baby.

once hamzah is done being mesmerized by the way his cum leaks out of you, he lays back down and immediately wraps his arms around you, gently caressing your body, staring at you with all the love in the world.

“i love you too,” you tiredly murmur.

“huh?”

“you said i love you earlier.. so do i. i love you.”

he smiles at you for a second, then places a soft kiss on your forehead. “love you too, baby.”

thank u for reading!! SEND REQUESTS i fear we r in a hamzah drought.. 😞 but ill try to get them out quick mwah thank u baii

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Happily Ever After

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~500

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You and Bucky deserve your Happily Ever After, and something tells you that you’re going to get it. It doesn’t matter what you face. If you have Bucky by your side, you know you’ll get through it.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: this won't a bit (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: this is something short to give you an update on their lives after the events of the entire story. thank you to everyone who loved this series! i had a lot of fun writing it <3

x

You pinch the two fabrics together and slide the pin to keep them together. You take another pin and hold it between your lips before finding another loose spot to pin together. Bucky stands in front of you watching as you work effortlessly on the suit you’re tailoring to his body. He parts his lips when he sees you take the pin out of your mouth to use it on his suit. You lick your dry lips and Bucky shifts in an effort to hide his arousal.

“Would you stop moving? I’m going to poke your skin and you’ll bleed.”

“It won’t be the first time I’ve bled for you.”

“Okay, well, get blood on these clothes and I’m going to kill you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods.

“Okay, last pin. This won’t hurt a bit.”

You slide the last pin into place and look up at Bucky with a certain glimmer in your eyes.

“Keep looking at me like that and I’ll get more than blood on these clothes.”

“You’re vulgar,” you gasp and step back.

“You love it.”

“Well, I’m finished now. I’ve recorded my progress and you can take the suit off.”

Bucky steps off the small platform to do just that, and you walk to the double glass doors that lead out to the balcony. You lean on the railing and admire the Eternal City below. Italy. The place you fell in love with since Bucky first took you here. Now you live here and get to do the one thing you’ve aspired to be growing up: a fashion designer. It’s been a year since the incident with Gio but the trauma is still there. You can’t go anywhere without Bucky because you fear you’ll get kidnapped and experience something similar or worse.

Bucky has given you everything you could ever hope to want and need. You don’t have to work since Bucky takes care of you financially. Two months ago, he took you to Paris and gave you a million dollars to spend on whatever you wanted. He truly spoils you even though you don’t need all of that to be happy. You could be in a one-bedroom apartment with an overpriced rent fee and be just as happy. This is what makes Bucky happy so you’ll take it as long as he wants to give it.

Shortly after moving to Italy, you opened your first studio and started making clothes you hope to see in stores soon. The only thing Bucky has provided you with is a studio. Everything else is coming from you which is exactly what you want. You want to look at your clothes and know that it all came from you.

After changing back into a t-shirt and jeans, Bucky walks onto the balcony barefoot. He stands behind you and wraps his arms around your stomach, and you lean back with a smile.

“We should get home. Brute and King are waiting for us and if you keep leaving them alone, they’ll ruin yet another couch. The old one had claw marks everywhere on it.”

“Not my fault they have separation anxiety,” you laugh.

Bucky turns you around and scoops you into his arms, and you wrap your arm around his neck for support.

“Come on, Mrs. Barnes. We have a home to get to.”

“We’re not married… yet. Only one month to go.”

“And a short month it will be.”

“Lead the way, Mr. Barnes.”

And he does all the way home and right back into his heart where you belong.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[sommerbueckers]

My Brother's Best Friend Pt6

___________________________________________________________

Noella chewed silently on a salted pretzel as I disclosed the details of my hookups with a certain blonde. We had been talking for a whopping hour and a half per Noella's request to know every single detail.

"You're telling me, that you lost your girl on girl virginity two years ago and never told me?" Noella finally asked after swallowing a bite of her food.

"That's all you got from this?" I frowned, unimpressed.

"No, no no. I just need a minute to process the fact that you've been secretly hooking up with Paige for almost a month," Noella said.

"Okay in my defense, I thought that weak shit two years ago was gonna be a one-time thing," I argued, resting my elbows on the table.

"But?"

I sighed, "But then she came into my room to say 'goodbye' after Thanksgiving break."

Noella snorted and shook her head, tucking a few strands behind her ear. "You're insane, you know that?"

"Insanely active," I smirked.

Noella ripped a piece of her pretzel off and squished it around with her fingers before eating it. I waited patiently for her to say something, to either continue my dirty joke or change the subject entirely. When she finally did speak, I wished it had been one of the above.

"So what's the deal with you two? Are you talking, dating, like, what's up?" she asked.

I didn't know the answer, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about what it could be on multiple occasions. Whether it was by choice or it was simply because I didn't have the courage to talk to anyone else, I was exclusively hooking up with Paige. But that didn't mean that she was exclusively hooking up with me. College did interesting things to a person. It not only made you, in Paige's case, blonder and hotter, but it also made you wilder.

How could I be sure that Paige wasn't keeping herself busy when she was 1,300 miles away from me? I couldn't, and that's what scared me the most. I was carelessly giving her the key to my heart, not even caring what she did with it. For all I knew she was looking for someone else to pass the responsibility onto and having her own fun along the way.

But then I thought back to earlier, how this hookup felt different from the others. We had started off slower, savoring the taste of each other's lips. She told me she missed me. Was that all just a hoax to get me to let my guard down easier? The way her eyes had traced every detail of my face, admiringly staring at me. No, it couldn't be.

Was I driving myself crazy?

"You still there babe?" Noella waved her freshly manicured hand in front of my face, pulling my attention back toward her.

"Yeah, yeah i'm here," I nodded.

"Okay...Are you gonna answer the question?" The blonde was now leaning back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at me with quizzical eyes.

I shrugged silently and slid my slushy off the table, toying around with the straw before taking a long sip. "I would if I could."

___________________________________________________________

Game night in the Collymor house was hands down the most anxiously anticipated event of the month. Six players, three teams, and a different selection of games every time. The night consisted of greasy foods and hot takes swirling around in a pool of competitiveness. Everyone wanted to win, but at the end of it all, only one team would walk away smiling.

I adjusted my pajamas in the mirror, a light pink floral set with dark pink flowers scattered throughout it. My hair was freshly washed, hanging down my back in soaked spirals dripping with product. I applied a layer of chapstick to my lips, a popping noise echoing in the room after I'd finished.

Noella was seated on the bed, scrolling idly on her phone as she waited for me to finish. I had never put much into my appearance on game night mainly because of how long the night lasted, but this time was different. Paige was here per usual, but I knew she was looking at me. Suddenly, Noella groaned from behind me, and her eyes shot up to meet mine in the reflection.

"What is it?" I frowned.

"Please respond in this fucking group chat, these bitches won't listen to me," she complained.

"What group chat?"

"The cheer chat," she breathed out, narrowing her eyes.

"What are they saying?" I asked as I moved to grab my phone from my dresser.

"They don't believe me about the practice times changing. Just because i'm not head captain, doesn't mean i'm clueless!" Her eyebrows were knitted together as she spoke, frustration evident in her expression.

Cheer was practically Noella's life, and when the captain title was passed down to me, she was heartbroken. So, I made sure that she had as much power on the leaderboard as I did.

I read over the messages in the group chat, frowning as I learned how they had out right ignored Noella's info text about the practice times. Before I could figure out how to address it, I heard my mom calling everyone from downstairs.

Sighing, I set the phone down on the bed. "We'll deal with it later, c'mon."

I grabbed her hand and we made our way out of the room where we ran into Micah and Paige in the hallway. They were clad in various shades of purple; lilac socks, lavender shirts, amethyst basketball shorts they had gotten from an athletic camp last summer. They held proud smiles on their faces as they emerged from the cave Micah called a room.

Noella snorted, "No way you guys coordinated your outfits."

"So what if we did?" Micah frowned, "It's better than those pieces of string you two call pajamas."

"At least I wear pajamas! Can't imagine waking up with literally nothing covering my chest," she retorted.

The two of them descended the steps, their petty bickering continuing. Before I could follow after them, I felt a familiar hand graze over my butt. My motions came to a halt when Paige leaned over to whisper in my ear, "These things are little."

I bit my lip when she gently squeezed, "Try not to let 'em throw you off your game."

She scoffed and slipped past me, "You and I both know that's not possible."

The comment was meant to be funny, and I tried to find the will within me to laugh as I walked down the steps and into the living room, but I just couldn't. I had probably taken it deeper and more personal than I should've, letting the poisonous meaning I had interpreted it to have infect my mind.

'You and I both know that's not possible.'

Paige completely pulled my attention away from everything else. She was the first person I looked for when I entered a room, regardless of whether I knew she was there or not. When I was in her presence, I was hyperaware of everything I did. Was I breathing too quickly -- too slowly? Was I walking funny? Should I fix my hair? I'd carefully plan my outfits on the days I knew Micah had invited her over, obnoxiously discreetly placing myself wherever they'd be.

In the midst of all of that; all the planning, the watching, the waiting, had Paige even given me a second thought? On the days that she'd come over straight after practice, was she subconscious about the fact that she smelled funky? On the summer days that our family spent at our lake house, was she worried about what I'd think of her in her bathing suit? Could she have even considered me for a moment as I unwittingly surrendered my heart to her?

Who was I kidding? Of course she hadn't, and after thinking over our entire relationship, I didn't know how I hadn't seen it sooner.

Paige was a basketball phenom; McDonald's All American, she had made the cover of SLAM magazine, and she was destined to go to the WNBA.

And I was just her best friend's little sister.

___________________________________________________________

its short, ik, don't be mad. but in my defense when i started this story i didn't think people would actually like it so i didn't have a real storyline in mind. IM TRYING HERE.

there's so much cooking in my brain i can't keep up w everything

probably gonna start another series soon too😫

[tracingpatternswrites]

Leather and Cinnamon | Wolfstar Bingo

It's that time of the year again! The @wolfstarbingo2024 is here.

I'm supposed to be working hard on my Big Bang fic so naturally I instead spent the whole day writing 13k words of... well, this.

I've had this idea for a long time and I think I started it over a year ago, but now I finally found the inspiration to finish it (while also crossing off one of my prompts). So here it is.

Title: Leather and Cinnamon Pairing: Wolfstar Rating: E WC: 13.2k Prompt: One night stand Summary: Remus hasn't got laid in a while, but that's okay. That's fine. He's been busy raising a son, thank you very much.

Now, however, Teddy is off to university and when Remus goes to Brighton to drop him off, they stumble over a coffee shop in the south lanes. It's a cosy little place with a barista who has silver eyes and pale skin and an arse to die for.

Remus hasn't got laid in a while, but that's okay. That's fine.

Read on AO3.

Snippet below the cut:

“I’ll order,” Teddy said as they entered the coffee shop, nodding towards a table by the window. “You can take a seat.”

“Oh really?” Remus asked, a little amused. “You’re paying too, then?”

“Obviously not,” Teddy remarked casually. “I’m a poor student, remember?”

“Sometimes I think you just spend time with me for my wallet.” Remus sighed wistfully but Teddy merely grinned at him, snapping his fingers.

“Money, please.”

“Maybe I want to order,” Remus said, but Teddy was already snatching the note from his fingers.

“Please,” Teddy scoffed. “Like I’d trust you with my order.”

Remus looked fondly as his son sauntered off towards the bar, unable not to smile to himself. He honestly couldn’t get his head around the fact that he had an 18-year-old son who was now heading off to university all on his own.

It had felt bittersweet, packing up Teddy’s boyhood room. He knew the day would come eventually, and even though he was excited for his son, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sad as well. They had driven down to Brighton together, their old little car stuffed full of (almost) everything that Teddy would need for the coming few months.

They had spent the day getting his room in order before Remus decided it was time for him to head back home. Teddy had agreed to a coffee before he left though, and Remus was set on making the most of the time he had left with his son while he still had the chance.

The café they had picked was in the south Lanes and had a bright red door with rainbow flags decorating the windows. It was the name that had drawn Remus in though, Baskerville’s Hound written in bold letters over the painting of a big, black dog.

The place itself was cosy enough, with paintings decorating the walls together with black and white photographs of Brighton and random people. The walls were painted in a dark blue colour and the furniture was all mismatched and clearly second hand, but still in good shape.

Teddy returned without drinks, pulling out the chair opposite Remus and slumping down on it, shrugging as Remus raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“They’ll bring it out,” he said, slouching back on his chair.

“Any chance you got a change on that twenty?”

“Sorry.” Teddy grinned at him, pushing a hand through his longish hair, currently a bright orange. Remus had long since accepted that Teddy opted to change his hair colour as often as other people changed clothes, and he enjoyed seeing him explore. “Consider it a contribution towards your only child’s education.”

“Ah, yes, never mind the 9K tuition fee,” Remus deadpanned. “It’s the change on the coffee that’s going to make the real difference.”

“I’ll need pocket money.”

The corner of Remus’ mouth twitched. “You need money for beer, you mean.”

Teddy threw his arms out. “It’s uni life, Da.”

Remus snorted just as the barista approached the table, clearing his throat.

“A latte with a dash of cinnamon and…whatever this monstrosity is,” the barista said, and Remus tore his gaze away from his son to the man standing next to their table.

Remus found himself doing a double-take at the sight of him. He didn’t know why he’d expected a student, but this man looked to be roughly his age. He was tall, muscular, with tattooed arms and wearing a simple white tee-shirt underneath a light apron with a large black dog printed on the front of it.

There was the hint of a stubble over his very chiselled jaw, high cheekbones and long, black hair pulled back in a ponytail. It was his eyes, however, that caught Remus’ attention. They were a light sort of grey that reminded Remus of silver, seemingly drawing in the light around them. They were dancing with something that looked like amusement as Teddy sat up excitedly.

“That’s mine,” Teddy said eagerly, reaching for the tall glass topped with a hefty dollop of whipped cream. “Cheers, mate.”

“I take it you’re the sensible one then,” the man said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he turned his gaze on Remus, placing the mug in front of him with a little wink. “Enjoy.”

Remus couldn’t help staring as the man walked away, gaze taking in the dark jeans and heavy boots.

“Earth to Da!”

Teddy’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he flinched, accidentally burning his hand as his coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug.

“Fuck,” he hissed, grabbing a napkin to wipe up his spill and when he looked back up, Teddy was watching him with a mischievous sort of twinkle in his eyes.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” Remus replied quickly, clearing his throat as his voice came out weirdly rough. “Fine.”

“I said, are you coming down with Ma next week?”

“Oh,” Remus said, taking a sip from his coffee to distract himself momentarily. “Dunno, mate. D’you want me to?”

“You don’t have to,” Teddy shrugged. “It’s just cause she couldn’t be here this weekend.”

“Right,” Remus nodded. “I’ll be there if you want me to.”

Teddy waved it off, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it made a chirping noise.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, eyes on the display as he quickly tapped out a message. “Aoife says there’s a group heading to the pub tonight.”

“That sounds like fun,” replied Remus as his gaze darted over to the bar, just briefly, catching on the man who was wiping down glasses and humming to himself, the muscles in his arms flexing. “You should go with them, make some friends.”

He only tore his gaze away from the man as he heard Teddy’s snort, and his son was watching him with an unimpressed sort of expression.

“What?”

“Make some friends?” he echoed, pulling a face. “It’s not pre-school, Da. It’s uni.”

“What?” asked Remus, a little affronted. “You don’t make friends at university?”

“No,” Teddy said assuredly. “You just…get to know people. Hang out.”

“Right,” Remus said, giving a solemn nod. “My bad. You should go with them and hang out then.”

Teddy rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath before he turned his attention back to his phone, and Remus pressed his lips together so that he wouldn’t smile. His eyes darted briefly back towards the bar, where the man was now stacking mugs.

It would be in Brighton where a random barista looked like he’d stepped right out of one of Remus’ wet dreams. He looked exactly like the type Remus would have been madly in love with when he was younger, and, it turned out, his taste hadn’t changed that much since then.

Remus hadn’t dated much in the past few years as Teddy was growing up. It wasn’t that it had been impossible, Dora had managed to move on just fine after their amicable split, and her dating life had never affected Teddy badly, he just hadn’t prioritised it. Ever since Teddy had moved in with him full-time when he was fifteen, Remus put his own dating life on a shelf.

Dora had told him he was being ridiculous, that Teddy was more than capable of handling his dad dating, and Teddy had even told him so himself. He’d even encouraged Remus to get out there, claiming that it would do him good to get laid. It wasn’t a lie, Remus knew that, but he had simply prioritised raising his son over hookups.

He knew it would be different now though, with Teddy off to university and Remus alone in their house. They had been joking about it, and Remus was happy that Teddy was starting his own life as a young adult, but he couldn’t deny that it would be strange.

He and Dora had been so young when they became parents. She had still been at university, and he had only just completed his Bachelor's Degree. He’d been a parent for all of his 20s and almost all of his 30s, it felt wild thinking that he was approaching his 40s with more independence than he’d had in a long while.

“Right, I gotta go,” Teddy said suddenly, his voice yanking Remus out of his thoughts. “Sorry, Da.”

Remus shook his head, smiling a little as he stood. “Don’t worry about it. Time for me to head back home anyway.”

Teddy nodded, watching him for a moment, his blue eyes searching over Remus’ face and he looked so serious suddenly.

“Are you sure that you’ll be okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Remus couldn’t help but smile a little at the troubled look on his son’s face, the half-grimace as he gave a brief shrug.

“I’ll be fine, Da.”

“So will I,” Remus replied, smiling a little as he pulled his son close for a hug. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Can’t help it,” Teddy muttered against the crook of his neck before Remus released him. “I worry about you all alone in that house.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Remus said as he clasped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I used to have a life before you, y’know.”

“Barely,” Teddy replied with a snort, the corner of the boy’s mouth quirking upwards as Remus swatted lightly at him.

“Oi, don’t get cheeky.”

Teddy laughed, seemingly unfazed as he leaned a little closer, stage-whispering, “You could always stay and chat up the barista, eh? I can see you ogling him.”

Remus had a horrible feeling as he was blushing as Teddy threw a meaningful look towards the man behind the counter and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Continue on AO3.

[deepfivetraveller]

King Baldwin x Time!Traveler!reader

chapter 1

Okay I’m a little new to writing romance so please take it easy on me. This fic was inspired by this creators fic so please check them out! Btw I’ll try to keep y/n as neutral as possible but since this is set in the ancient era and religion is very important, y/n shall be hinted as being Hindu since that’s the only one that seems neutral in this situation.

“Alright that's all for the lesson. And since its complete I expect all of you to be thorough with ‘Life of King Baldwin iv’ during this weekend since there will be a test on this very topic next wednesday. Have a great weekend by the way.” The professor stands up and closes his laptop and all the other students start packing up.

“He had a pretty hard life didn’t he?” One of your friends chimes in. You look at her unsurprised. “You mean king Baldwins?”

“Duh! Poor man suffered an incurable disease almost his entire life! Imagine having skin infested in bacteria, euggh!” She recoils in disgust. “Imagine the cure to that disease being bacteria itself! Pretty sure Leprosy can be cured using multi antibiotic therapy.” Another friend joins in the conversation. You finished packing up your bag so you get up. “But no matter what, you gotta respect him. He never used his illness as an excuse to be a bad king.”

“That’s true….” Your first friend agrees. “He’s tough. When I catch a normal cold I give up all of my responsibilities since I’m sick. Wonder how hard it must have been for him.” All of you exit the classroom. A few minutes go by and topics have changed. A fun conversation lasted for a while before it was time to go, so you three parted ways.

As you entered your home your first thought was to take a cold shower after a long, hot and sweaty day. While eagerly hopping into the shower you get reminded of the conversation you had with your friends a while ago. What did king Baldwin even look like? There were no images in your textbook. Curiosity got the best of you, making you draw back the shower curtains to leave. You wrapped a towel and went towards the table where you kept your mobile, typed a quick ‘King Baldwin the 4th images’ and hit enter. Two images popped up. One being an actual painting from the 12th century while the other being an image reconstructed by scientists which looked…realistic to say the least.

His face in the second photo was majestic. His mouth and nose were almost non-existent, having only two triangular shaped holes instead of a nose. His skin was dry, withered and stretched while having the hue of a dry leaf during autumn. Even though he was severely disfigured his eyes were pure and bright, having a child like innocence towards them. King Baldwin was…Quite handsome.

Okay that’s enough now snap out of it! It’s probably just some AI prompt message image anyway. If anyone found out you found him handsome they’d call you crazy. Plus now is not the time to fangirl over a dead king, now's the time to study. In an attempt to distract yourself you pick up your books to do work. Hours painfully go by as you study but finally, finally it was bedtime. You could care less about eating dinner or even taking a shower, you plop yourself onto your bed and wrap the soft blanket around your body. Thoughts about King Baldwin strike your mind again. Seriously, what's wrong with you?! Why is this man plaguing your thoughts all day?

A sigh escaped your mouth from irritation. If only it was possible to console him for his losses or better yet, cure him entirely. The world would have been a better place if he had the lifespan of a normal man.

But there is no point thinking about this, time to go to bed now. As you try to go to sleep your body keeps doing the fake fall thing, annoying you to the core. And finally when your bodys heartbeat was steady and your breathing was quiet, your body did that fake fall thing again but this time it was actually a real fall.

Eyes widen as you try to grab onto the air to prevent your fall but of course, you fail. Adrenaline rushes through your veins for that split second before you finally make an impact on the cobblestone path?

Owch! That fall really hurt, especially at the back of your shoulders! You hope it’s not bruised there. But after that reality check, you look around only to find yourself in some village?

You can see a few small huts and buildings beyond the grassy field. Where are you? How are you here? Why are you here? Too confused and dazed from the fall, you try to look around for people for help. That is until a holographic screen with text pops up.

Congratulations Ms. Y/n. Your wish to cure King Baldwin has been approved by the ₦ł₥฿Ʉ₴฿₳Ʉ₦Ʉ₴. You are now at Jerusalem, Year: 1181.

“What?”

Yes it’s true Ms.Y/n, you really are in the 12th century.

Your blood is now boiling in anger. “Just because….Someone wishes pity over a dead king DOES NOT ACTUALLY MEAN THEY WANT TO CURE HIM!” You try to grab onto the screen to shake it vigorously but your hands go right thru.

Now now, let’s calm down and try to get over with this together I’m sure we’ll find a solution.

“Calm down…CALM DOWN?!?!?!? I’m in the middle of nowhere in Jerusalem during the 12th century and you want me to CALM DOWN???? I don’t even know French and not to mention I’M NOT CHRISTIAN!” You were screaming with your hand in the air. Pretty sure you woke someone up.

Y-Yes but that’s why I’m here. Don’t worry about communication, the language module for french had been uploaded into your brain while you fell here.

The screen flickers a little, maybe due to fear.

Uploaded knowledge? “But I’m a woman from the 21st century! I can’t live here! I’m wayy to accustomed to the privileges of my time!”

That’s one of my perks miss! By using currency of this time you may purchase products of your time thru me! The screen changes to an online store. For now you have access to basic necessities like food and clothes. As you complete missions you shall unlock other parts of the online market! The screens display brightness increases due to enthusiasm, convinced it has impressed you.

You however look at it in exasperated shock. “How is this even possible?” You say with dread in your voice. “Who sent me here?” You ask, no, demand.

Like I said You’ve been sent here by ₦ł₥฿Ʉ₴฿₳Ʉ₦Ʉ₴. I’m pretty sure you can’t read that since mortals don’t have the capacity to….

Mortals? Is this the play of some higher being? God even? Too many questions float through your head, making you visibly tired. You can feel the bottom of the skin beneath your eyes folding, an indicator you’re developing dark circles.

Ah. It looks like you’re tired. It’s night anyway. You should sleep.

“But where do I-”

“Excuse me madam.” You turn around to see a man standing behind you. “I’ve noticed you’ve been talking to yourself.”

So he can’t see the screen. From his ragged outfit he seems to be a commoner. He also genuinely seems worried so you guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask for help.

“Yes, sorry for that.” You say embarrassingly while you get up. “You see I’m from the family of wandering traders, here to sell spices from my land. I was talking to myself since I was quite irritated at how I didn’t have an inn for the night.” The explanation seems responsible enough I guess.

“But I don’t see any goods with you… And how did a young lady such as yourself travel alone? Where is your husband?”

Crap. He’s doubting you. You need to give him a reasonable explanation fast or he’ll call you a witch or something.

“Oh no sir you’re mistaken! My father is the one who has the spices, it’s his business after all. We had to split ways during travel due to inconveniences, I’m merely here to help him!” You put on your best smile to convince him.

“O-Oh I’m sorry madame! H-Here let me lead you, I know an Inn nearby.” Good. Looks like he believes you. But now it’s your turn.

“I’m sorry sir but how can I trust you?” You step back a little. “What if you take advantage of me? How shall I testify my innocence? The locals would definitely believe you over me.”

“No no please don’t! I’m a married man. My wife’s right there.” he points at the lady standing just outside the house, looking worried. You look at her and she nods her head in reassurance. “You seem like a noble from your land madame judging from your colorful dress, why don’t the both of us show you where the inn is?”

Hmm….Guess colorful clothing is rare here. And he really does seem like he wants to help.

“Very well then. Both of you show me they way.” The man eagerly tells his wife the incident and both of them show you around. The screen follows you, showing you a winking emoticon.

Congrats Ms. Y/n! You have officially begun your first mission!

[unpredictable-probabilities]

A Star's Respite

Summary:

After not being able to see his dear sister for a long time, actor Morpheus Evermoore decides to defy his superiors' stifling schedule and leave to attend her birthday.

Meanwhile, times have fallen hard on The White Horse pub due to competition from new businesses. Owner Hob Gadling contemplates on closing it down, thinking it unlikely that a solution would present itself anytime soon.

Word Count: 11,799

Notes (more at the end):

For Dreamling Week Day 6: Monochromatic

[Read on AO3]

---

Morpheus made his way to his trailer as the film crew began packing up the equipment. They had just wrapped up the last day of filming for his latest movie, and he was sincerely hoping he would get at least a few minutes of peace. And possibly lunch. It was almost noon, but they’d been so busy that he hadn’t had a chance to eat breakfast apart from the singular chocolate chip cookie that his assistant Matthew managed to shove into his hand a few minutes before filming.

He went into his trailer and closed the door behind him, taking his phone from the dresser and sitting on the small couch. He unbuttoned the front of his tuxedo and tried to settle down as best he could.

Usually he changed out of his film clothes immediately, in order to not risk damage on any properties of the costume department, but he owned this particular ensemble, and he had more pressing matters to attend to.

He unlocked his phone and viewed the notifications.

As he had expected, there was a message from his little sister. They had been having a conversation earlier before it was interrupted by his work schedule.

He opened the message.

Blysse: It’s okay if you really can’t come to my birthday. I understand. We’ll just see each other next time you’re not busy 💖

Morpheus sighed and ran a hand down his face. Ever since his career picked up a few years ago, he had missed so many important events in her life; school plays, ballet recitals, and most recently, birthdays.

Blysse never complained, which made it worse, somehow. Morpheus hated seeing how sad her eyes looked whenever he had to tell her on video call that he wouldn’t be able to make it home on time. He would rather her get angry with him if it meant she would not be so upset after.

Morpheus checked his schedule on his phone for what felt like the hundredth time this week. Blysse’s 18th birthday party would be on Sunday, three days from now. With the filming finished today and nothing else lined up for this week, he should have some time to himself. He already brought it up to his manager, but Mr. Fry didn’t want him leaving the city, insisting that he should start preparing for the press tour that would start in three weeks. There was a photoshoot on Monday too, and Mr. Fry didn’t want him to leave on Sunday and risk being unable to attend it.

Erasmus Fry had always been his manager, and he didn’t want to seem ungrateful by arguing about the schedules. Yet there was an ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever he would remember that he hadn’t seen Blysse in nearly a year now.

His phone lit up with a notification. He opened it to see a message from Blysse.

Blysse: I made this for your birthday last year, it was supposed to be a surprise but you weren’t able to come home. Be here on your birthday this year so I can give it to you! ^_^

The attached photo was a painting of him, a rendition of his movie poster from his very first film, but Blysse had done it in her unique style using vibrant colours that seemed to leap off the canvas.

Morpheus bit the inside of his cheek to quell the emotions rising within him. Truly, Blysse deserved all the love and care in the world. He only wished he could give her even a fraction of it.

He looked at his schedule again and at Blysse’s messages. A determined frown creased his forehead and his mouth set into a hard line.

He slightly opened his trailer door and looked around outside. The film crew was halfway done with packing up, and Mr. Fry was nowhere to be seen.

He quickly grabbed his wallet and keys on the dresser, securing them in his pockets. He sent a quick text to Blysse:

Morpheus: I shall be there for your birthday.

He turned off his phone, slipped out of his trailer, and closed the door behind him.

He casually walked to the far side of the trailer to hide him from view of the film crew, and sprinted towards the direction of the main road.

***

Hob set down the mug on the rack after he finished polishing it. He picked up a second mug and started the process all over again. The White Horse wouldn’t be open for another two hours, and none of his staff are here yet, but he needed something to do. The pub hadn’t been doing so well recently, with new competition popping up all over the place and that mall that just opened down the next block. He was still able to pay the electric bill and rent for the building, but he wasn’t so confident about next month. He had enough saved up that he’d be able to move to some other, smaller place, and he could always go back to teaching, but he was worried about the staff. As the owner of the pub, he felt that he should be able to do more for the people who relied on him.

That was why he had gone here, behind the bar, cleaning dishware that didn’t need cleaning. He had to think of a way to promote the pub somehow. They still had loyal customers, so he knew that the quality of their food or service hadn’t gone down. The problem was visibility; it was difficult to gain new customers when most people don’t even know about the pub.

He didn’t want his staff to be suddenly out of jobs, and he had to come up with something soon. It wasn’t like the solution to all his problems would just barge through the front door.

A sudden sound startled Hob out of his thoughts.

He looked over and saw that someone was prying open the sliding window on the far wall. He tensed at the possibility of a burglary, but who would rob a place at high noon?

The slender figure slipped in through the window and slammed it shut, crouching low on the floor and peeking out the window.

By this point Hob noticed that it was a man, too finely dressed to be a burglar of any sort. His tuxedo alone probably cost more than Hob’s rent.

A group of men in black uniforms ran past, and the tuxedoed man ducked quickly out of sight. He heaved a sigh of relief and sat back against the wall.

He met Hob’s gaze, and his eyes widened.

Hob probably didn’t look any different; he almost dropped the mug when he recognized the man sitting on his floor.

Oh my god.

“I apologise.” The man quickly stood up and walked over to the bar. “I did not mean to break into your establishment. I was just…” he cast a worried glance over his shoulder towards the window before looking at Hob again. “May I stay for a few minutes? I promise not to get in the way.”

Hob had just been staring wide-eyed the entire time, his brain still catching up to the fact that a movie star had just climbed in through his window. There was no mistaking that deep voice; Hob had seen a few films of Dream Evermoore and this was definitely him. And okay, maybe he had seen a bit more than a few films. Maybe he had seen all of them. But who’s counting?

“Um…” Hob finally found his voice. His wits were slowly returning to him, and he realised how worried Dream looked. The man’s eyes looked strained, and his fingers were tapping nervously on the bar. “Are you alright? Are you in danger?” Hob glanced at the window, but fortunately no one else was approaching. Was Dream being mugged?

Dream blinked at him, blue eyes bright with surprise. “I… I am alright, yes. Thank you. No danger. Apart from possibly being caught and reprimanded by my employers for sneaking out,” he gave a small smile. “May I sit?” he pointed to a barstool.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Hob said quickly, putting the mug away and clearing the counter of coasters and menus. He had so many questions, but he held himself back. Seeing Dream so distressed felt wrong, somehow, and he didn’t want to cause such a worried look on his face again. “Can I… get you anything? Coffee? Some bread?” He wasn't sure what the proper etiquette was for hosting an impromptu visit from a celebrity. A gorgeous celebrity he had admired for years. Sitting two feet away from him. God have mercy.

“Thank you, but you do not need to prepare anything. I would not like to impose any more than I already have.”

A rumble that suspiciously sounded like it came from Dream’s stomach interrupted before Hob could say anything.

Dream closed his eyes momentarily, his cheekbones going pink, and Hob had to bite back a smile that would have looked impossibly fond.

“Well, I haven’t had lunch yet, and I was just about to make something, anyway. Care to join me?” Hob asked, trying to keep his tone casual. He had no idea what celebrities like Dream liked to eat for lunch, but he had a feeling that Dream didn’t want to be treated like a celebrity right now.

Dream pursed his lips before nodding slowly. “You are kind. I will pay for the meal.”

“Nah, it's fine. I'm the one who offered it. Just wait here, it'll be ready in about 15 minutes. And the pub doesn't open until 2 PM, so no one will see you,” Hob reassured him. He turned to go to the kitchen.

“May I help?”

Hob turned back to see that Dream was standing again.

“I do not feel comfortable doing nothing while you prepare something for me, especially since you would not allow me to pay for it. I wish to help in the kitchen, if that's all right.”

“Oh, um…” Hob suddenly wondered if the kitchen looked neat enough for visitors. They always kept it clean, of course, but the idea of having Dream in it was making him feel a tad self-conscious. “Are you sure?”

Dream nodded. “I know how to cook, and I will not get in the way.”

There it was again. Why did Dream always assume that he would be seen as getting in the way? Hob might have expected the opposite for someone of his status. He pushed down his curiosity and smiled.

“Sure, come on,” Hob waved Dream over to join him in the kitchen.

Dream was quiet and just stood patiently by the counter as Hob prepared the steaks and got the potatoes from the pantry, but he was looking around the kitchen with such curiosity and wonder in his eyes that made Hob smile.

Hob had been working in this kitchen for three years, and he realised he might be taking it for granted. But seeing Dream react to it now—subtle though it was—made Hob see the place again like he did the first time, with pride and appreciation of the fact that he was able to make his dream business a reality.

“When’s the last time you ate?” Hob asked to make conversation as he laid out the ingredients. “Did you come from set?” he nodded to Dream’ tuxedo. Now that he was calmer, he recognized it from the trailer of Dream’s latest movie.

Dream nodded. “There is catering provided for lunch, but I left right after we filmed the last scene.”

“Wait, did you run all the way here?” Hob frowned. “On an empty stomach?”

“It is only four blocks away.”

Hob had no idea they were filming so near his place. But more importantly, “You had breakfast, right?”

Dream blinked. “There was a chocolate chip cookie.”

Hob raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Oh my god. Start chopping these, we gotta get some food in you quick.” He passed the bowl of potatoes over to Dream.

“I assure you, I’m all right,” Dream took the bowl with an amused smile. “It is hardly the first time I had worked for hours without eating.” He began to peel the potatoes.

Hob raised an eyebrow. “You realise that’s worse, right? Is that why you’re so thin?” He put the steaks on the pan and began basting them with butter and seasonings.

Dream’s smile turned fond. “It never seemed to be a problem. My employers actually seem to prefer that I am this slender; they said it is more appealing to the audience.”

Hob suddenly remembered his students at the high school he worked at before, how there was bullying about weight, and how fights and mental breakdowns occurred because of it.

Hob had to bite back a few choice words he wanted to say about those employers. Sure, he had always thought Dream looked beautiful, but he would never choose him being thin over him actually eating properly. And who decided anyway that being thin was the only way to be beautiful?

He let out a breath to calm himself and flipped the steaks in the pan. “Well, you don’t have to worry about any of that here. You’re appealing to me either way,” he winked, trying to lighten the mood.

Dream chuckled and glanced down for a second, and Hob immediately wanted to hear that sound from him again.

“You are kind,” Dream said as he set the potatoes to boil. “Do you always treat your trespassers this way?”

“You’re the only trespasser I’ve encountered so far,” Hob turned off the stove and transferred the steaks onto a plate. “And it’s really no problem, I do run a food business.”

“And yet you will not let me pay for the meal,” Dream arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“You’re helping cook it,” Hob pointed out. “That’s the payment.”

Dream smiled in fond amusement again and didn’t say anything more. He removed his jacket and hung it on a hook before rolling up his sleeves. “I gather that the cheese and seasonings you brought out are for the potatoes? I saw the baked potato option on your menu earlier. I would like to start the process, if you would permit me to use your oven.”

“Um…” Hob was too busy trying not to stare at Dream’s toned forearms to process the words immediately. “Yeah, go ahead.”

So Dream attended to the potatoes while Hob chopped the vegetables to go with it. They worked well together, and Hob was glad to see that Dream visibly became more comfortable around him as they cooked. His shoulders relaxed and his smiles came a bit more easily.

Soon enough, they had placed all their food on one of the tables in the pub. Hob set up the plates and prepared a glass of lemon soda for each of them. He had briefly considered serving wine but he didn’t want to risk Dream getting the wrong idea.

“What time do you need to start preparing to open?” Dream asked as he cut a piece of steak. “I would not want to overstay.”

“We got more than an hour left, don’t worry. And we can cook more food if you’re still hungry after that,” Hob said sincerely.

Dream took a bite of the steak and his face lit up. “You are a good cook. This is perhaps one of the best steaks I have ever tasted.”

Hob chuckled and glanced down, his face warming. “Thanks, but you’re probably just really hungry.”

Dream smiled, then he seemed to realise something. “I don't even know your name yet. I apologise. At first I did not think it would be polite to ask for it after I had trespassed into your property, and afterwards it had slipped my mind.”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s fine, it slipped my mind, too.” Hob smiled and reached out a hand. “Robert Gadling. But my friends call me Hob.”

Dream shook his hand firmly. “A pleasure to meet you, Robert. I’m guessing you already know who I am, based on our conversations earlier,” he said playfully before retracting his hand.

“I do, yeah. And I said my friends call me Hob,” Hob raised an eyebrow.

Dream blinked. “Yes, I understood you.”

Hob just kept staring at him, barely able to suppress a fond smile.

Dream’s eyes widened a fraction. “You… see me as your friend?”

“Yeah? If that’s okay…?” Hob smiled sheepishly.

A soft smile slowly appeared on Dream’s face, and the room became brighter. “It is. In that case, you may call me Morpheus, if you wish. Dream is merely my screenname.”

Hob froze for a second, his fork halfway to his mouth. Did Dream—Morpheus—really just give him his real name? He was a private person, and as far as Hob knew, no one referred to Morpheus by that name, not even hardcore fans on the internet.

Hob snapped his mouth shut and nodded, setting his fork back down. “I’m glad to have you here. Morpheus.” He smiled.

Morpheus opened his mouth to reply, but his eyes grew wide as he looked at something behind Hob.

Hob turned and saw three of his staff coming in through the door. They were having a conversation and laughing, and hadn’t seen either of them yet.

“I must go,” Morpheus said suddenly, standing up.

Hob stood up and grabbed Morpheus’ arm without thinking, then pulled him along behind the bar and back into the kitchen.

“There’s a fire exit through here but… will you be okay?” Hob asked. He didn’t know what Morpheus was running away from, and it didn’t feel like his business to ask.

Morpheus pursed his lips and looked reluctantly at the sign that said FIRE EXIT.

Hob remembered how worried he had seemed earlier, the tension in his shoulders as if he was scared that Hob was going to kick him out.

“You can hide in my flat upstairs,” Hob heard himself say.

“What?” Morpheus said in surprise.

“Just until you feel that it’s safe to leave,” Hob hurriedly added.

“Boss? Are you in here?” Lou’s voice came through the open kitchen door around the corner. “Should we clear your plates?”

Hob met Morpheus’ eyes, and Morpheus nodded quickly.

Hob pulled Morpheus silently out through the fire exit—belatedly realising he had never let go of his arm—and led him up the stairs to his flat.

He fished his keys out of his pocket and quickly opened the door.

“You can stay here for now,” he said as they went in and he closed the door behind them.

He turned around and was suddenly greeted by the state of his living room.

Books and magazines cluttered the coffee table among an empty teacup and sandwich wrappers, the potted plant near the window was turned over on its side, and enough clothes were strewn on the couch to dress a family of four.

“I am so sorry—” Hob hurried to the couch and began gathering items of clothing in his arms. “Took these out of the dryer this morning, been meaning to fold them tonight.”

He carried the bundle of clothes to his room and tossed them unceremoniously on the bed. Then he ran back to the living room and righted the potted plant; he had knocked it over on his way out of the door that morning, and he had been so worried about next month’s rent that he just vaguely made a mental note to straighten things up when he got home.

He went to tidy up the coffee table—

“Hob.”

He instinctively glanced up at the sound of that voice saying his name.

Morpheus had a small smile on his face. “It’s alright. Your home is lovely. You have your work to attend to, and your employees will be wondering why you disappeared halfway through a meal.”

“Right,” Hob nodded and ran a hand through his hair to calm down. “Have a seat, and help yourself to anything in my fridge. I’ll pack up the rest of our lunch and bring it up here.”

“You don’t need to go to such trouble. I’ll be okay just resting here for a while.”

“It’s no trouble, Morpheus. We cooked it so you could eat, right? I’ll be right back.” Hob went out the door before Morpheus could protest further.

***

True to his word, Hob had packed up their lunch and brought it to his home. They finished their meal together and Hob said he told his employees that he had a friend over, hence the dining set up for two people, so Morpheus didn’t have to worry about anyone knowing he was there.

Afterwards, Hob left to help at the pub, but not before quickly scrawling his phone number on the notepad on the counter. “In case you need anything,” he had said.

Morpheus still wasn’t entirely certain why the man was so kind to him, especially after he had broken into his establishment. Hob did not even ask why he was running away, and yet he trusted him enough to leave him alone here in his home.

No matter, he would find a way to repay Robert Gadling for all his help. For now, there were other matters that needed attending.

He sat on Hob’s couch and took his phone out of his pocket, turning it on and bracing himself for the barrage of texts and voicemails that were sure to flood his notifications.

There were several messages of varying politeness asking him where he was and when he was coming back, and a few threats from Mr. Fry saying that if he didn’t come back immediately he would lose his job. Morpheus read all of them with relative indifference, having expected the messages already. He didn’t reply to anyone apart from Matthew.

Morpheus: I am well. I will be coming back on Monday at the studio in time for the photoshoot.

Then he opened the text that he was truly looking forward to seeing.

Blysse: 😯 Really? What happened? They let you take days off?

Morpheus: I will tell you the details when we see each other.

Blysse: ‘Kay! Thank youuu! I’m so excited to see you again! 💞💞💞

Morpheus smiled, he could almost see the twinkle in his sister’s eyes.

Morpheus: I very much look forward to seeing you again as well 🖤🤍

A new notification popped up, and he opened it.

Matthew: You got it, sir. You’re out of the city now, right? Mr. Fry coordinated with the rest of the team and they’re basically combing the area looking for you.

Morpheus sighed. A few people were aware of his reasons for asking Mr. Fry to let him leave for the weekend, but only Matthew seemed to really understand why it was so important to him. Morpheus was glad to have at least one person he could wholeheartedly trust at his work.

Morpheus: Thank you for letting me know, Matthew.

Morpheus put his phone down and leaned his head back against the couch. He might need a bit more help from his new friend.

***

Hob removed his apron and hung it on the hook in the kitchen. Now that his shift was done, he wondered what he should make for dinner. He didn’t want to take any of the ingredients from the pub while there were still customers coming in, and lately he didn’t have the energy to cook for himself so he wasn’t sure what ingredients he still had at his flat. Maybe he would just order takeout again.

He leaned against the counter and checked his phone. Still no texts from Morpheus. Hob had been half-expecting to get a message saying that Morpheus was leaving already, but there was nothing. He couldn’t text Morpheus because he didn’t know his number, and earlier he wasn’t sure if he should ask.

“Boss, don’t forget your jacket,” Merv’s voice made him look up.

“That’s not mine,” Hob said without thinking, seeing Morpheus’ jacket on the hook.

Lou walked by bringing in a tray of dishes to the sink. “Maybe it belongs to his friend from earlier,” she said cheekily.

“Oh, is that friend coming back, then?” Merv asked, with the less-than-subtle implication of Can we meet him?

“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” Hob said good-naturedly and took the jacket before going out the fire exit.

Maybe Morpheus did leave already but just didn’t let him know, that was always possible. He had his jacket, though. Would Morpheus come back for it? Probably not, but Hob wanted to hope he would.

He reached the top of the stairs and tried the handle on his door. Locked. Morpheus really must have left and locked it behind him.

Hob sighed as he took his key out and unlocked it, trying not to be too disappointed.

He stepped into his flat and froze as the smell of something cooking reached him. Then he noticed that his coffee table had been cleared of clutter, the books and magazines neatly stacked beside each other. Even the bits of soil that had spilled from the overturned potted plant earlier were gone now.

In a daze, he closed the door behind him and walked towards the kitchen.

The unwashed dishes that he’d left in the sink this morning were now clean and placed in the drying rack, and he didn’t know what Morpheus was cooking at his stove but it smelled delicious.

Morpheus turned at the sound of his footsteps. “Hob. Good evening. You’re just in time for dinner.” He turned off the stove and transferred the contents of the skillet onto a plate. “I hope you don’t mind. You did say I could help myself to anything in your fridge,” he gave a small smile.

Hob saw that Morpheus had cooked buttered salmon with sautéed cauliflower and roasted peanuts, all lined up on the counter now.

“You cooked for me?” Hob immediately wanted to kick himself after saying the words. Obviously Morpheus had cooked for himself, and Hob just happened to arrive when it was done.

“Yes,” Morpheus nodded. “It’s the least I could do after all your help today. Though if you’ve eaten already it’s alright, I can eat by myself and refrigerate the leftovers.”

“No, I haven’t had dinner yet.” Hob’s mind was still recovering from the whiplash of thinking Morpheus had gone and then seeing him having cooked for the both of them. “Oh, you left your jacket in the pub,” he held it out.

“Ah, that’s right. Thank you.” Morpheus took the jacket from him, causing their fingers to brush, and Hob wondered if the rest of his hand was just as soft.

“Shall I take these plates to the table, then?” Hob asked, a little louder than what was probably necessary.

“Let me help. I shall just hang my jacket on your coat rack.”

They set the table for their dinner, in a manner that was so similar to how they set up lunch just a few hours earlier, and Hob couldn’t help but feel that it was so domestic. How had his day turned out like this?

“You didn’t have to clean up, you know,” Hob said as they ate. “I’d say you didn’t have to cook either, but I’m not complaining about these,” he gestured to the food. The salmon was so soft it nearly melted in his mouth, and the vegetables were crisp.

The corners of Morpheus’ mouth lifted. “It’s alright, I did not have much else to do, anyway. And… I have one more favour to ask of you.” He glanced down, then looked up in hesitation at Hob through his eyelashes.

Hob found himself looking back in anticipation. He didn’t know what he was expecting—or hoping for—but he seemed unable to look away from those blue eyes.

“My assistant had texted me that my employers are actively looking for me; it would be more difficult for me to leave the city now. Would you perhaps be able to help me find accommodations for the night? I am not very familiar with the area, and I would prefer someplace where they would not easily find me.”

“Oh, well…” Hob frowned thoughtfully. He knew several inns that were a short drive away, but he wasn’t sure whether any of them would be inconspicuous enough. “What if…” he tapped his fork nervously on his plate. “What if you stay here? There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom.”

“What?” Morpheus looked taken aback. “You don’t even know why I want to hide from my employers. How could you trust me to sleep under the same roof as you?”

Hob raised an eyebrow. “If you wanted to steal from me for whatever reason, you’ve had hours of opportunity already. If you wanted to harm me, you could have ambushed me when I came in or poisoned this dinner. I have no reason to think you’re dangerous.”

Morpheus blinked, then shook his head fondly. “How do you know I have not poisoned your food? Perhaps it is a slow-acting poison.”

“Just to keep me alive long enough to compliment your cooking?” Hob ate a mouthful of vegetables.

Morpheus chuckled. “I suppose, if I am to stay here, then I must tell you why I am hiding from them.”

Hob shook his head. “No, you don’t have to do that. It’s your personal business, really.” He didn’t want Morpheus to feel like he had to keep paying for his stay.

Morpheus looked thoughtful for a while. “I would like to talk about it. To a friend.” He met Hob’s eyes.

Hob felt a certain warmth in his chest at that look, and he smiled. “Then yeah, I’d love to listen.”

So Hob did. There was a gleam in Morpheus’ eyes while he talked about his two sisters who lived together, one older than him and the other one younger, though he was evidently upset that he wasn’t able to spend more time with them.

“I have no other obligations at work until Monday,” Morpheus added, somewhat defensively, after telling Hob how his bodyguards spotted him before he got too far from the set and chased him for four blocks before he decided to hide in The White Horse in a panic.

Hob leaned back in his chair as he took all that in. He had employees too, but he couldn’t imagine controlling their lives like that.

“Your manager,” Hob said carefully, not wanting to offend Morpheus. “Erasmus Fry? Has he always been like that?”

Morpheus nodded. “Yes. He was also the one who insisted that I have bodyguards. He had said it was for my sake, but as of late I have begun to wonder if he just wanted me to be watched at all times.” His voice had gone a little quieter, but he must have noticed Hob’s worried face because he put on a smile, though his eyes looked tired. “I will bring the plates to the sink.” He stood up and began stacking them.

“Hey, you cooked,” Hob reminded him, carefully taking the small stack of plates. “That means I clean. Feel free to use the shower in the meantime. I’ll lend you some clothes.” At Morpheus’ surprised look, he added. “You really wanna sleep in the same clothes you wore to work and your impromptu jogging?”

Morpheus pursed his lips. “I suppose not. Very well.”

Hob got some grey sweatpants and a brown sweater from his room and handed them to Morpheus, then went ahead and washed the dishes.

It had been quite a long day. When he woke up this morning and decided to spend some time in the pub by himself, he hadn’t been expecting for any of this to happen. It was strange; he knew Morpheus was a celebrity, had watched his movies for years, but when they were spending time together, it was almost like he forgot that Morpheus was an actor. They were just two friends having a meal, talking about their families.

“Where is your laundry area? I would like to wash my clothes.” Morpheus’ voice took him out of his musings.

“Oh, it’s just over…” Hob trailed off after he turned and saw Morpheus.

His damp ruffled hair was sticking up in places and falling across his forehead, giving his face a much softer look.

And then the sweater.

Hob had chosen that sweater to lend him because it was one of his most comfortable ones. He hadn’t considered the fact that because it had always been loose on him, it would be even more so on Morpheus.

Hob could see his collarbones, and the barest glimpse of his shoulders as the wide neckline hung loosely around him. The sleeves reached down to cover half of his hands.

Hob thought for a second that he had swallowed his own tongue. But he cleared his throat and forced himself to speak. “It’s just over there, through that door,” he gestured to the back of the kitchen.

Morpheus nodded. “Thank you.” Then he disappeared to the laundry area.

Hob took a shaky breath and leaned against the sink. He had invited Morpheus to stay the entire night. Wearing his clothes. Looking like that.

God give me strength.

***

“You sure you don’t want the bed?” Hob said as he placed a pillow and blankets on the couch. “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch. I’m the one who suggested you stay here instead of a fancy hotel, after all.”

Morpheus shook his head. “You have already been exceedingly hospitable, Hob. I will not take your bed from you. Thank you for these.”

“No problem, let me know if you need anything else. And um…” Hob shifted on his feet. “Say goodbye to me, before you leave? Just so I know you're alright and you didn't get kidnapped from my flat by your manager or something.”

Morpheus smiled. “Of course, and I will make certain that you will not get in trouble for harbouring a fugitive.”

Hob chuckled. “Alright, then. Good night, Morpheus. It was really nice meeting you.”

“And I thank you for today, Hob. I have enjoyed your company. Good night.”

Hob smiled and headed to his room.

***

Hob had no idea how long he had been staring at the ceiling, his mind too restless for sleep. He had never expected to meet Morpheus Evermoore, let alone befriend him. He was already lucky to have spent as much time with him as he had. And yet, he couldn't help but feel that it was too soon for Morpheus to leave tomorrow.

It wasn't just because Hob enjoyed his company—although he very much did—but also because Morpheus looked like he needed more rest. He seemed tired already after dinner, and given what Hob knew of his less-than-ideal eating habits because of work, Hob wouldn't be surprised if he didn't regularly get proper sleep either.

Hob sighed. He shouldn't get too invested in someone who he might never even see again, even though Morpheus had called him a friend. If Morpheus was so busy that he hardly found time for his little sister whom he clearly adored, then what more for someone he only knew for half a day?

Hob turned over to his side and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep.

It must have worked somehow, because the next thing he knew, sunlight was streaming in through his curtains.

He got up blearily and rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes. He was halfway to his door when he remembered he had a guest.

He immediately went to the living room to check on him, partly because he wasn’t entirely sure that yesterday wasn’t just a dream.

There he was, bundled up under the blanket, hair falling softly across on the pillow.

Hob felt himself smile. Morpheus looked so relaxed, no crease on his forehead as he slept soundly on the couch. Hob wished Morpheus could have more rest days like that.

He quietly went back to his room and got dressed for the day. He knew from checking the kitchen last night that he didn’t have much food anymore, and it was time to buy ingredients. He supposed he could order takeout for their breakfast, but he didn’t think Morpheus got to eat home-cooked meals often, and he could at least cook him some good food before he had to leave today.

The thought of him leaving made Hob’s heart sink, but he pushed down those emotions and just focused on making a mental shopping list.

He went back to the living room, making sure not to wake Morpheus. He got a notepad and pen from the counter and taped a note to the front door.

Went to buy food for breakfast. Be back in a tick.

Hob.

The shop was just around the corner, hopefully he would be back before Morpheus even woke up. He went out the door and locked it behind him, not wanting to leave a sleeping Morpheus to possibly be burgled.

He got to the shop early enough that he was able to buy what he needed without having to deal with crowds or long lines at the register. He checked his watch and was glad to see that he would have time to cook breakfast and eat with Morpheus before he had to go down to the pub.

“Sir! Excuse me!” A woman wearing a grey business jacket with her hair in a bun ran up to him. “Do you live around here? Do you work at The White Horse?”

Hob glanced at the ID hanging around her neck bearing the logo of a local news program. “Did something happen?”

“Some sources say that Dream Evermoore was spotted here early afternoon yesterday. Did you happen to see him? There are rumours that he ran away from set after their last day of filming.” The woman brought out a small notebook and pen.

Hob couldn’t contain the surprised look on his face, so he decided to go along with it. “Oh wow, Dream Evermoore was here? I did hear some people at the pub talking about how they saw someone who looked like him at the bus station. I thought they were just having a laugh, but maybe it was really him, huh?”

The woman nodded as she quickly scribbled down notes. “Bus station. Thank you, sir. Call us if you see him around,” she handed him a card. “We might film an interview in the future.”

Hob took the card and smiled politely.

As the woman walked away, Hob paid more attention to his surroundings. Other reporters and paparazzis were definitely all over the block in disguises of varying subtlety. There were even a few of the uniformed men that Hob saw through the window chasing Morpheus yesterday.

He made his way up the steps to his flat, resisting the urge to run. He unlocked his door and quickly stepped in, locking it again behind him.

“Hob?” Morpheus’ voice sounded concerned. “Are you alright?”

Hob turned to see him on the couch folding the blankets. “Yeah, I’m fine, just…” he opened the curtain a tiny bit and peeked out the window. “Yup, they’re still there. See for yourself.”

Morpheus frowned and went to look through the small gap in the curtain, his arm almost pressing against Hob’s. “I see. My assistant Matthew was correct. I saw his message when I woke up; apparently Mr. Fry believes I am still in the area, and has ordered my guards to look for me. I would not be surprised if he was the one who tipped off the media as well.”

Hob sighed and turned to look at Morpheus. “I’m sorry—” Morpheus’ face was inches away from his. Morpheus was still looking out the window, but Hob’s nose would touch his cheekbone if Hob only leaned a bit forward.

Hob looked down to avert his gaze but then his eyes landed on Morpheus’ bare shoulder, visible because of the sweater that had slipped down even lower. The slope of his neck was more noticeable too, fair and smooth skin all the way down to his collarbones.

Hob quickly stepped away and began walking to the kitchen. “Any chance they won’t be there anymore after we eat breakfast?”

Morpheus followed him and shook his head. “It is unlikely. I would have to find a way to get past them, and then find accommodations where they would not think to look for me.” He leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed, a frown forming between his eyebrows.

Something ached in Hob’s chest at the sight. All the stress that had seeped out of Morpheus since yesterday seemed to be coming back.

“How about— And tell me if you’re uncomfortable with this in any way…” Hob kept his eyes on the slices of bread that he was preparing to toast. “How about you stay here until Sunday morning, and I’ll give you a lift to the next city so you can get to your sister’s birthday?” His hands felt suddenly cold, but he was glad that they were working well enough to spread butter on the bread.

“You would do that for me?” Morpheus said in surprise.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re already here, so…” Hob lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry, I’m explaining it badly. I just meant…” he looked at Morpheus to hopefully force himself to find the right words, but Morpheus’ soft smile just disarms him further.

“I understand what you mean, Hob. Don’t worry. Admittedly I… I feel comfortable. With you.” He glanced down, his eyelashes catching the light. “Last night was the best sleep I’ve had in a long time, knowing that I didn’t have to worry about anything in the morning.”

Hob just stared and smiled for a few seconds before realising he should say something. “I’m glad to hear that, Morpheus. You’ll always have a safe space here. So, you agree with my plan…?”

Morpheus met his eyes and nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his own lips. “Indeed I do. Although, I might need to buy some clothes.”

“I can go down to the shop later. They’ve got slippers and underwear and soaps, but not really sets of clothes. You can keep borrowing mine, though, if that’s okay…?” Hob asked hesitantly as he put the slices of bread in the toaster.

Morpheus’ eyebrows lifted.

“Or— Or— I can go to the mall down the next block,” Hob stammered. “They’ve got a department store and—”

“Hob.” Morpheus was smiling in amusement, then his expression changed into a more somber one. “I do wish you would not be so nervous around me. Have I done anything to make you feel that way?”

“No, no,” Hob hurriedly said. “It’s just…” he sighed. “I’ve watched all of your movies. I’ve admired you for years. And now I just don’t wanna come across as creepy. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, Morpheus.”

“You have not caused me discomfort in our entire time together, Hob,” Morpheus said, and there seemed to be a hint of sadness in his eyes. “And I suppose I understand better now. Why you are helping me. I thank you for appreciating my work.”

“Woah, wait,” Hob stepped closer to him. “To clarify, I’m not just helping you because you’re a famous actor, okay You walked into my pub looking scared, of course I wanted to help.”

“I broke into your pub.”

“Because your manager’s practically holding you hostage,” Hob pointed out. “Morpheus, you deserve better than how he’s treating you. And I really hope you get out of that situation when you return to work. There’s gotta be a long line of managers wanting to work for you, right?” Hob hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but as soon as he said out loud that Morpheus had looked scared, it all came rushing out. He didn’t want to think of Morpheus looking like that the entire time he was at work.

Morpheus nodded and gave a small smile. “I did not want to seem ungrateful by replacing him, but you are right. It is time he realises that he cannot control my life nearly as much as he wishes to. Thank you, Hob.” He chuckled. “I did not think I looked quite so frightened yesterday. That must have been unsettling to see from someone who just appeared in your pub.”

“Not really. You also looking devastatingly gorgeous sort of balanced it all out,” Hob said to lighten the mood.

Morpheus looked at him in surprise and didn’t say anything.

“What?” Hob raised an eyebrow. “You have no idea how handsome you look?”

Morpheus blinked. “It is quite flattering to hear from one such as you. I would imagine you have some rather high standards. Considering what you see in the mirror every day.”

Now it was Hob’s turn to gape at him in surprise. Morpheus was looking at him with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and eyes shining with something that dangerously looked like banked intent—

DING!

Hob startled and stepped away. “That’d be the toast,” he blurted out, turning around to carefully place the hot slices of bread on a plate, feeling his face warm. “I’ll just fry some eggs and bacon, and breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

“Shall I make us some orange juice, then? I saw a juicer in your pantry last night.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Hob said, still keeping his back turned. He wasn’t sure if Morpheus had been joking, but the look in Morpheus’ eyes seemed all too real, and the fire it lit in Hob’s gut was definitely real. And it was all a lot to deal with before coffee. He didn’t want to risk misreading things and doing something stupid.

Fortunately, breakfast went by pretty smoothly. They talked like usual, and Hob felt more relaxed now that Morpheus had said he never felt any discomfort around him. Hob did feel maybe very slightly disappointed that Morpheus hadn’t made any similar remarks or advances like he did earlier, but eventually he managed to brush it off and just decided to enjoy Morpheus’ company while he was still here.

Before he went down to the pub, Hob reminded Morpheus that he had free reign of the kitchen, as well as the telly and any of the books.

Hob ate his lunch at the pub like usual, and packed up some food to bring Morpheus, just in case he hadn’t cooked anything for himself yet.

“Oh, thank you,” Morpheus said when Hob brought him the barbecued lamb with chips on the side. He took the paper bag and frowned. “This is a lot. Have you eaten yet?” he glanced at Hob.

Hob opened his mouth to reply. “No,” he heard himself say. “No, uh, not yet.”

Morpheus smiled. “Then you can share this with me. Come on.” He led the way to the dining table and began setting up the food.

Hob followed, grateful that he didn’t eat a lot for lunch a few minutes ago.

“I’ll be going to the shop later to get your supplies,” Hob said as they ate. “Do you have any allergies to certain soaps?”

Morpheus shook his head. “Anything will do.”

“Any preferences for clothes, then? I can hand them to you before I head out so you can shower if you like.” Hob remembered something. “Oh, you usually wear black and white for your interviews and events. Was that your choice or is it more of a branding thing?”

Morpheus smiled. “It is my choice, yes. I’ve always leaned towards monochromatic colours ever since I was young, and fortunately I was allowed to continue that. They even decided to incorporate it in some of the roles I play, like the mainly blue colour scheme of that prince character two years ago, and the tuxedo in this latest film.”

Hob nodded. “I think I’ve got some black and white clothes you can borrow, yeah.”

Morpheus tilted his head slightly. “You would accommodate even that? You are very kind to me, Hob Gadling.”

“Or maybe you just look really good in those colours and I like seeing you in them,” Hob teased.

Morpheus chuckled. “Then I am fortunate that you look good in any colour, and I am allowed to enjoy the view frequently.”

Hob looked down at his chips to hopefully hide the flush on his cheeks. “Do you have to one-up me everytime?”

Morpheus laughed a bit louder this time, and Hob had to look up again in order to not miss it.

“Oh, speaking of the shop.” Morpheus stood up and got something from the counter before returning to his seat. “I will give you some cash for the supplies. I’d hand you my debit card but my name’s on it and I’d rather not drag you into this whole manhunt for me.” He took a few bills out of his wallet and held them out to Hob.

“No, that’s not necessary,” Hob said, not making a move to take them. “I offered to help, remember?”

Morpheus shook his head. “You are already feeding and housing me for free. Surely I can pay for a few socks?”

“You can, but you don’t have to.”

“Hob Gadling, take these or I will leave.”

Hob was taken aback for a moment, but he narrowed his eyes. “You’re bluffing.”

A smile of amusement appeared on Morpheus’ lips. “Yes, I am. Take the cash, anyway?” He tilted his head slightly to the side and batted his eyelashes.

Hob took the money with a playful huff. “That’s unfair. You’re using your looks to get what you want.”

“Did you not do the same when you asked me to stay here?”

“What? I thought you said it was my kindness that got you to stay!”

“It is several things.”

They both laughed, and their borderline flirty banter came up again a few times throughout the entire meal, and Hob was glad to see that they were both perfectly comfortable with it.

***

“I do not remember why I ever liked this game,” Morpheus said jokingly as Hob’s knight took his bishop.

After they had finished dinner and prepared for bed, he had spotted a small magnetic chessboard among the books on Hob’s shelf. He made a passing remark about how he used to play chess with his two sisters when they were children, but had not had the chance to do so again in recent years.

Hob asked if he wanted to play now, and that was how they ended up on the couch with the chessboard between them. Hob was in a light green shirt and blue sweatpants, while Morpheus was wearing a black shirt with a white-and-grey checkered pyjama bottoms.

“You don’t?” Hob said in an equally playful tone. “Well I’m having a lot of fun for some reason.”

“Could the reason be because you are eviscerating my team with yours?” Morpheus arched an eyebrow.

Hob grinned. “I would have thought you’d be amazing at chess, seeing as it’s monochromatic.”

Morpheus shook his head fondly. “Your mind’s logic continues to fascinate me.”

Hob chuckled and proceeded to be merciless in how he took over the board. Morpheus stared at him at every chance he could. Hob had a certain warmth to him that Morpheus had not seen in anyone else, and everytime he smiled it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

He knew that Hob recognized him when their eyes first met, and Morpheus had just been hoping that he wouldn’t call the police on him for breaking and entering.

When it didn’t seem like Hob was going to do any of the sort, Morpheus expected the usual reactions of people running into him: asking for autographs, selfies, or a blurted out, Oh my god, you’re Dream Evermoore!

But Hob’s first reaction was to ask if he was alright, which admittedly took him off-guard. He told himself it was an understandable reaction if Hob had seen him being chased, but then Hob offered to cook for him, and didn’t ask any questions about his new film even when Hob voiced out recognizing his tuxedo as coming from set.

Hob clarifying this morning about his reasons for helping Morpheus was honestly sweet of him, and Morpheus could not help the remark he had made about Hob being handsome. It was a sincere remark, one that he had worried might have been an overstep based on how Hob seemed to keep his back turned on him afterwards, and so he was relieved when Hob continued such banter during lunch.

Their chess game ended soon enough, with Hob as the unsurprising victor. They put away the board and decided to watch some cooking shows, at Hob’s recommendation. Morpheus had learned to cook for himself as soon as he was living alone for his work, but his skills were nowhere near what the contestants on the show were displaying, and he was fascinated to be learning a lot.

As the evening grew later, Morpheus’ eyelids grew heavier, and he found himself leaning against Hob’s shoulder.

He immediately sat up straight as soon as he realised it. “Sorry,” he rubbed his eyes. “I did not mean to use you as a pillow.”

“I didn’t really mind, you can keep doing that while we watch. Unless you want me to turn off the telly instead?” Hob reached for the remote on the armrest.

Morpheus considered it. “No, I would like to keep watching. You are certain I can lean on you?”

Hob gave a soft smile. “‘Course. Anytime.”

Morpheus lay back on his shoulder, shifting into a more comfortable position. He thought he heard Hob’s breath hitch, but his mind was too sleepy to be sure, and he trusted that Hob would voice out any discomfort if there were any.

The cooking show went on, and Morpheus vaguely remembered wanting to cook some of those dishes for Hob before sleep overtook him.

***

Hob woke up to what sounded like an ad for a vacuum cleaner. He blinked himself awake and squinted in confusion at the telly. He must have fallen asleep on the couch, his muscles stiff from sitting all night.

Then something shifted beside him, and he looked to see that Morpheus was sound asleep on his shoulder.

Hob was tempted to nuzzle into the soft hair tickling his cheek and inhale, but he wouldn’t know how to explain himself if it woke Morpheus.

Another, louder commercial blared from the telly, and Morpheus flinched awake. Hob reached for the remote and lowered the volume.

“Were we here all night?” Morpheus asked sleepily. “Did I keep you here? I’m sorry, you should have woken me,” he stifled a yawn with his hand.

“Nah, I didn’t even realise I’d fallen asleep,” Hob said, which was true. Morpheus snuggling against him kept his heart rate up for a while, but eventually he relaxed into it and apparently fell asleep. He stood up and stretched his stiff muscles a bit. “Breakfast?”

Morpheus nodded. “Please.” He lay back down on the couch and curled up, his eyes closed again.

Hob smiled at the sight before heading to the kitchen.

***

They were lounging on the couch again after their nightly routines, and Hob suggested another game of chess, which Morpheus wrinkled his nose at and politely declined.

Hob flipped through the channels, looking for something they could watch. He didn’t want to go to sleep yet, knowing this would be their last night together. He eventually landed on one that usually streamed reruns of films.

“Oh look, it’s you,” Hob said to Morpheus as the character of The Sandman appeared on the screen. “This was about three years ago, right?”

Morpheus nodded. “The fantasy genre was quite popular at the time, and the writing team suggested I play my namesake from the myths.”

“Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever watched this movie properly. I was just starting the pub when it came out, so I didn’t have time to go to the cinema. One of my buddies held a watch party when it was released for a limited time on streaming sites, but I was only able to stay around for the first half.”

“We could watch it now,” Morpheus offered.

“Really?” Hob said in mild surprise. “It wouldn’t be weird?” 

Morpheus smiled and shook his head. “Not at all, don’t worry. Besides, I rarely get the chance to see my own work for myself. I should like to know if I did any good.”

“I can guarantee that you did good in the first half.”

Morpheus chuckled. He looked so comfortable and at home, leaning back on the couch wearing a black hoodie and white sweatpants. Hob almost just stared at him instead of watching the movie.

Morpheus got up to make some popcorn, insisting that Hob stay on the couch instead of helping him in any way.

And so they watched the movie together with a bowl of fresh popcorn between them and some cans of soda.

“That was not half bad,” Morpheus said as the credits rolled.

“Are you kidding?” Hob turned to him. “It was incredible! I can’t believe I hadn’t seen this sooner.”

Morpheus smiled and glanced down for a moment. “I’m afraid you might be biased, my friend.”

“No way.” Hob put the empty popcorn bowl on the coffee table and brushed off any crumbs from the couch. “It’s one of your most popular films, right? So clearly I’m not the only one who thinks it’s great.”

Morpheus smiled at him. “Thank you. And it was indeed quite fun making it.”

“I bet. And how did you do the voice? Was that like, special effects or something?”

“The voice?” Morpheus tilted his head in confusion.

“The Sandman voice. How was it done?”

“Oh. That was just my voice, there were no special effects necessary.”

“Wow. Can you still do it?”

Morpheus fixed him with a gaze much like The Sandman’s, and Hob could almost imagine his eyes being all black and dotted with stars. “You are asking if I can still speak like The Sandman?”

It instantly dawned on Hob just what he had gotten himself into, and he couldn’t look away as Morpheus practically crawled across the small gap between them on the couch.

“Would you like to know if I can see your daydreams, Hob Gadling?”

Hob felt the armrest behind him and realised he had been leaning back, and now Morpheus was looming over him.

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Perhaps we have already met. In your dreams. But men forget in waking hours.” Morpheus’ voice was quiet, his nose almost touching Hob’s.

“Morpheus…” Hob managed. He could feel that his face was flushed, and it was difficult to string together a sentence with Morpheus looking at him with flames behind his eyes, his breath warm on Hob’s face.

Some hesitance appeared on Morpheus’ features, and he pulled back slightly. “Am I causing you discomfort? Tell me and I shall stop.”

“No,” Hob gripped the front of the hoodie, so tightly his knuckles paled. “Don’t,” his voice came out a whisper, and he met Morpheus’ gaze, showing with his eyes what he couldn’t articulate with his words.

Morpheus’ breath hitched, and he descended on Hob, capturing his lips.

Hob’s hands went up to Morpheus’ hair, and he groaned at how impossibly soft it felt. Morpheus put more of his weight against him, and Hob arched into the touch. He angled their mouths to deepen the kiss, and Morpheus welcomed Hob’s tongue with his own.

Hob sighed at the sensation of the heat in Morpheus’ mouth, tasting of buttered popcorn and the comforts of home. Hob could have spent the entire night like that, being pressed into his couch by Morpheus with their tongues gliding against each other.

They parted only enough to catch their breaths, their foreheads pressed together.

“Do you…” Hob’s voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. “Wanna sleep in my bed tonight? We don’t have to do anything, we can literally just sleep. Before I drive you out of the city tomorrow…?”

Morpheus smiled down at him, and any embarrassment that Hob might have felt in that question dissipated in the face of that brightness. “That sounds lovely.”

So they did just that, though they continued to make out for a good long while before literally just sleeping in each other’s arms. Hob had no complaints.

***

“I have a press tour coming up, for the new film. And I will be busy for around two months. But afterwards… might I be able to visit your pub again?” Morpheus asked as they drove out of the mall parking lot.

The crowd of people looking for Morpheus had fortunately lessened enough that they were able to get into Hob’s car and have a quick shopping trip at the department store to buy Morpheus some clothes for his sister’s party.

“Of course,” Hob said, then he remembered something. “But, ah… The pub might not be there anymore at that time, and I might be living somewhere else. But we can definitely still see each other, I’ll text you my new address.”

They had cuddled for a while before breakfast, and shared a few soft kisses after, but neither of them had brought up any labels of sorts for what they might be now, and Hob was happy to know that Morpheus still wanted to see him in the future. Morpheus even gave his number to Hob without Hob having to ask.

“Hold on,” Morpheus frowned. “You’re shutting down The White Horse? Why?”

Hob’s fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel, it was something he avoided discussing even with his other friends, as it made him feel like too much of a failure. “It’s… well, it’s not making enough money. I might not be able to make next month’s rent for the building, and I’d have no choice but to close down the pub and move somewhere cheaper.”

“You brought me food from your pub for three days,” Morpheus sounded horrified. “For free! Hob, why didn’t you say anything? I could have paid for all of those—”

“Hey, hey, now, none of that,” Hob chided him. “Like I said, I offered to help, remember? And calm down, love, it’s not like you’ve driven me to homelessness. I’ve made arrangements with my staff, I’ll be helping them find other jobs before I close down the pub. And I can get back to teaching again while I figure stuff out.”

Morpheus was silent for a while, and Hob’s eyes were on the road so he wasn’t sure what Morpheus looked like, but when he spoke again he was much calmer.

“You told me that it was your dream to own a pub. Am I remembering correctly?”

“Yeah, but, you know…” Hob shrugged, though he felt touched that Morpheus remembered him mentioning that in passing during dinner. “It’s just how it is, sometimes.”

“What seems to be the problem? Your food is excellent, and I like to believe the service is commendable as well.”

“Too much competition,” Hob said, unable to keep the tiredness from his voice. “I mean, I’ll still do what I can, but there’s lots of new restaurants in the area now, and then there’s the mall. It might be better if I just focus on finding new jobs for the staff.”

“So the main issue is visibility, yes? You need to be known by potentially new customers?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ll be working on when I get back home.”

“I see.” Morpheus pulled out his phone and began typing. “I don’t suppose you have any objections if I post on my social media pages that I’ve had a good dining experience at The White Horse and tag its location?”

“What?” Hob looked over in surprise at Morpheus before turning his eyes back on the road again. “Morpheus, you don’t have to do that. You don’t owe me anything, really.”

“I am aware. I simply want to help out a friend. We are… friends, yes?”

There was a hesitation in Morpheus’ voice, and Hob couldn’t tell if it was because he wanted Hob to say that they were more than that, or if he was hoping that Hob would take the hint that they were just friends from now on.

“If that’s what you want,” Hob said and gave him a smile, figuring it was a safe enough answer.

“What I want is to be an investor of The White Horse. Once I get a new manager, they will be in contact with you about the details while I am on the press tour.”

“What?” Hob said incredulously as they stopped at a traffic light. He turned to look at Morpheus. “That’s— Isn’t that too much? You don’t need to do all of that.”

“I have some very fond memories of the place, and I’m afraid I have grown quite attached to it,” Morpheus smiled. “You have my word that I will back out at any point once you feel that it can stand on its own again, and you will remain the sole owner.”

“That’s not even what I’m thinking about! Morpheus, are you sure you really wanna do that? Not just because you feel like you have to return the favour or…?”

Morpheus reached over and placed his hand on Hob’s. “You are dear to me, Hob. That is why I care about your happiness. And I meant what I said about the place holding fond memories for me. Will you allow me to help?” he held up his phone to show Hob what he had planned on posting.

There were a few pictures of The White Horse from the internet, Hob recognized them as the few they had uploaded as ads. And Morpheus had captioned them by saying that the food and service were excellent, and he would definitely come back from time to time.

“You haven’t posted it yet…?”

“I will not do so without your agreement,” Morpheus brushed his thumb across the back of Hob’s hand.

Hob was almost overwhelmed by the absolute care that Morpheus put towards his feelings, and he had to take a breath before he could speak again. He nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Go ahead.”

Morpheus smiled and let go of Hob’s hand as the traffic light changed and they had to move again.

They spent the rest of the short ride in comfortable silence, with Morpheus tapping away on his phone.

A few minutes later, they arrived at what looked like a fancy restaurant, complete with a garden and a fountain in the middle of it.

“Is this the place?” Hob said as they parked.

“Yes,” Morpheus nodded. “We used to go here often as children, and my sister wanted to celebrate her birthday here.”

They got out of the car, and Hob walked Morpheus to the entrance.

“I guess this is it, then?” Hob tried to sound casual, but even he could feel that his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Thank you for everything, Hob Gadling,” Morpheus held his gaze. “Truly, you have been a wonderful companion in our short time together.”

“I could say the same thing about you. I’m glad you chose my place to break into.”

They chuckled, and then there was nothing more to say. They stared at each other, neither one willing to be the first to leave.

Hob steeled his nerves and moved towards Morpheus’ lips—

“Morpheus! You’re really here!”

Hob flinched away and saw a young woman in a beautiful dress run out of the doors to embrace Morpheus.

“Blysse,” Morpheus returned the gesture. “You have grown so tall now. Any more and we would be of the same height.”

Blysse laughed and pulled away from the hug.

“This is my friend, Robert,” Morpheus smiled at him. “He has been very kind to me. I might not have been able to be here without his help.”

“Don’t say that,” Hob returned the smile, then looked at Morpheus’ sister. “Your brother really wanted to be here, I’m sure he would have found a way no matter what.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Robert!” Blysse beamed at him. “Would you like to stay for the party?”

“Oh, really? I’m not sure I’m following the dress code,” he chuckled, looking at the siblings’ formal outfits.

“I have some spare clothes in your car, you can borrow some,” Morpheus said.

“Great!” Blysse smiled. “I’ll see you both inside! I’ll tell Tia you’re here!” she said to Morpheus before running back inside.

“Morpheus,” Hob said uncertainly. “I know you borrowed my clothes, but I’m not sure it could go the other way around.” His shoulders alone are significantly broader.

Morpheus smiled playfully. “I think you’ll find that there is at least one suit in your car that is your exact size.”

Hob looked at him in surprise. “You set me up,” he said accusingly, but he was already smiling.

“Perhaps.” Morpheus’ eyes were twinkling. “And I believe we were interrupted earlier.” He stepped forward and pressed their lips together, his hands holding Hob’s face.

Hob held Morpheus’ waist, their kiss soft and lingering with the barest brush of their tongues.

“Hob,” Morpheus said quietly, still holding Hob’s face. “You have truly been a beautiful presence in my life, and I will not ask you to wait for me—”

“I will,” Hob said, meeting Morpheus’ gaze. “I’ll wait anyway.”

Morpheus looked at him with something like awe before kissing him again. “I think you better get dressed now before we get too distracted to attend the party.”

Hob chuckled. “Good point.”

They got the suit from the car and headed inside to the bathrooms.

“Since I will be an investor for your establishment, it only makes sense that we would be in constant communication with each other.”

“I thought you said your new manager will contact me?” Hob raised an eyebrow playfully.

“They will, but I like to be hands-on about my interests,” Morpheus said pointedly.

They reached the bathrooms and Morpheus stopped just outside.

“You’re not coming in with me?” Hob teased. “I wouldn’t mind you being ‘hands-on’ in there.”

“Believe me when I say that if I go in with you, I will not be helping you put on any clothes,” Morpheus said evenly, a smile playing on his lips.

Hob chuckled and went inside.

He took a good look at the suit for the first time, smiling as he saw the colours.

Monochromatic black and white. He would match with Morpheus. 

---

Notes:

This got away from me in so many places and grew to be about three times longer than I initially thought it would be, so I finished it a bit late 😅 I really like how it turned out, though 🖤

Thank you so much to @patchyegg87 for all the help in brainstorming and beta-reading, and for keeping me motivated throughout this whole thing especially when I was doubting whether I could still finish it~

And thank you all for reading! I hope you liked it! ^_^

Feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments!

---

(Dreamling Week Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

[rhondafromhr]

Expanding on my “the Monroes adopt Max and he becomes an even worse person” AU

- they take him in not long after he turns sixteen. His dad dies in some kind of freak accident, it makes the news and Linda recognizes the name because she knows everything there is to know about the history of the Honey Queen pageant and his mom won about ten years ago. She also knows that, like every other winner of that pageant, she left Hatchetfield and never looked back, meaning Max is completely alone now. She’s not sure why she cares about this complete stranger, but her heart breaks for him not having a loving home and she decides she can provide that. She’s a great mother, after all, and they already have four beautiful boys, what’s one more? Gerald isn’t as invested at first, but he agrees to it because he supports Linda in basically anything she wants to do.

-Linda keeps trying to give him expensive new things to cheer him up and make him feel like part of the family and she doesn’t understand why he’s reluctant to accept them. His dad was the type to act like providing basic needs (food, housing, etc) was a huge burden and always came with strings attached, saying stuff like “I put a roof over your head, I pay all your sports fees and you couldn’t even win that game?”. She and Gerald eventually figure it out and the next time Linda gives him something, she makes sure to tell him he doesn’t have to take it if he doesn’t want to, but it’s a gift that they got for him because they like him and they’re glad he’s here. That makes him smile for the first time since he moved in. He tells her that he’s glad he’s there, too.

-they try to stick him in an expensive private school, but he wants to stay at Hatchetfield High because he doesn’t want to give up his power there. They go back and forth over it for a few weeks and during that time, someone overhears them discussing it while out for dinner. This leads to a rumor going around school that Max is leaving and it gives all the nerds so much false hope that things could get better. In the end, they let him stay. There’s not a lot Linda and Gerald can’t get away with, but even they’re not willing to risk pulling the star quarterback out of school and making the Nighthawks lose to Clivesdale.

-Pete, Ruth and Richie do end up transferring out to get the hell away from him when he starts becoming even more of a menace, as impossible as that seems. Richie begs Paul to let him finish out high school at Sycamore and Paul reluctantly helps him get a variance. He joins the anime club and the swim team there. Sycamore isn’t as cliquey as Hatchetfield High and a lot of the kids who go there are just as “weird” as he is, so he’s actually kind of popular there and he’s much happier. Ruth starts doing online school. Being away from the constant bullying, her anxiety starts to get better and her confidence improves. She joins a local theater troupe for teens, makes tons of new friends there and lands her first ensemble role. Pete just works his ass off and graduates early, then goes off to UCLA (he gets his own CaliforMIA reprise). Lex and Hannah make it to California in this universe too because why the hell not and Pete ends up being their roommate. I just think he and Lex would be an iconic duo. They’d hate each other at first (she’s a retail worker and Pete’s canonically a rude customer, natural enemies) but then they’d start vibing and the levels of snark would be off the charts.

-When Linda and Gerald see how Max is struggling in school, they hire a tutor for him and his grades actually improve a little. He’s still a nightmare to deal with and doesn’t try that hard, but they pay this tutor such an extravagant amount that they’re willing to put up with just about anything. Just for funsies, maybe the tutor is Ziggy. Idk could be a fun comedic pairing and I like to think Ziggs is smarter than they let on and tutors on the side so their only stream of income won’t be drug dealing - they don’t want people getting suspicious of how they’re making a living.

-Linda and Gerald start going to every single football game with the boys. The whole family is decked out in an obnoxious amount of Nighthawks gear and they cheer for Max louder than anybody else. Max pretends not to care, but he secretly loves it. They’re proud of him and it’s not conditional on whether he wins or not. They prioritize him, clearing their schedules so they can come to the games and always show up when they say they’re going to. His dad never did that for him.

-Max injures his knee during one of these games and he insists he’s fine, but the coach forces him to sit out for the rest of it. He’s worried Linda and Gerald are going to be mad at him for not playing or think he’s weak for not toughing it out, but they’re both just worried about him and want to make sure he’s okay. When they get home, Gerald makes him stay off of it and ice it. Linda fusses over him and his new brothers keep him entertained while he’s laid up on the couch.

-every so often, the school calls the Monroes and tries to talk to them about a bullying incident. It’s pretty rare because Max is the star football player and the administration doesn’t really care what he does, but if it’s a particularly violent one they’ll at least make a half-assed attempt to address it for appearances’ sake. Gerald tells them “if you have that much of a problem with it YOU do something about it.” Linda then reminds them that if they do, their generous donations to the school just might dry up. Whenever Max comes home after, Gerald just laughs about it and claps him on the back, then says something along the lines of “That’s my boy, keeping those nerds in line!” Obviously, this only encourages him more.

-Linda decides to impart her wisdom on him and show him that brute force isn’t the only way to keep people in line and get what he wants. She and Gerald start to teach Max more creative, underhanded ways to hurt people and encourage him to use their wealth and connections to his full advantage. As they say, what’s the point of having money if you’re not going to enjoy it?

-As part of this lesson, Gerald fondly recounts what Linda did to that girl’s skis in that competition back in college and how it was the moment he knew she was the one. He goes on about how hot, successful and smart she is and says that Max should take her advice because she knows what she’s talking about. Max can’t put it into words, but there’s something so healing about seeing the way Gerald and Linda love and support each other. Maybe seeing this modeled teaches him how to have (somewhat) healthy romantic relationships down the line and he and Grace eventually get together and have a similar “horrible to everyone else, loving and supportive to each other/enabling to each other’s bad behavior” dynamic.

-When Max joins the family for dinner with Roman and hears the way he talks to Linda, he can’t control his temper and tells him he doesn’t care who he is, he’s going to smash his face in if he doesn’t shut the fuck up because nobody talks to Linda like that. Gerald, of course, is absolutely delighted. Linda half heartedly scolds him, but is secretly so touched that he stood up for her like that. She and Gerald discuss it, decide Max deserves a little reward and buy him a brand new Range Rover.

-After the incident with Roman, Linda tells Max that he just might be her new favorite. River overhears and this ignites a lifelong, largely one-sided sibling rivalry with Max. He starts kind of emulating Max’s bad behavior and lashing out at school to try and get Linda’s attention and when that doesn’t work, he becomes a huge overachiever instead as a way to distinguish himself from Max and make himself feel superior since Max isn’t very academically gifted. He does genuinely study and work hard but he also pulls every dirty trick imaginable to sabotage any other students standing in his way (some…unfortunate things end up happening to his competition for a few scholastic awards and the one student who’s ahead of him for valedictorian his senior year). Linda’s proud of him and showers him with praise, but all he can think about is that moment Max displaced him as the favorite. He wonders if anything he does will ever be good enough to earn that spot back.

[meringuejellyfish]

always really loved this chapter cover so i wanted to color it

[demaparbat-hp]

Almost