icedcoffeeinthevoid - Tumblr blog

icedcoffeeinthevoid · 2 years ago

Text

honeymoon

PAIRING jack russell/f!reader

SUMMARY you're a (reluctant) hunter sent to kill jack, but you just can't bring yourself to go through with it.

WARNINGS smut, gendered terms, mentions of death

REQUESTED yes/no

WORD COUNT 5.1k words

i've been wanting to write about jack for ages because i had a crush on gael because of old but no one wants to read kissy kissy fanfic about the beach where you turn old and finally i have an excuse! also it's named after the lana del rey song honeymoon! anyway, enjoy :)

The idea of hunting down another person simply for following their nature wasn’t something that you were overly happy about, however you knew that not doing what you were told could result in your own death. You had cats to feed, you had plants to water, and most importantly: you were not old enough to die. Especially not at the hands of some bureaucrat in a suit who had never so much as smelled the blood of another human.

Technically, you were raised to be a killer. Your entire family worked for some big boss who enlisted them to hunt down creatures, you knew what you were doing and for the most part you believed it was all you knew. Things changed when you went to school and started to see people for how they really are, when you got more exposure to the world than what your parents had ever allowed you. But when they retired, and you were finally ‘old enough’, you were brought in. No matter how you tried to reason that you were busy, you were tied to the job whether you wanted to be or not.

Your first target was a man named Jack Russell, a werewolf who seemed to avoid being around humans so as to not kill them. You were told that he was docile, that he was meek. That he hated what he turned into and that he would be easy to take out if given the right tools, but that only made you more adamant that you would rather die than kill someone who did nothing to deserve it.

The instructions were clear, sneak through the window before sunset. Watch what he does, and the next day, the full moon, come back and take him out just as he turned.

You, however, were about to break every rule you were given as you tapped on the door in the middle of the day. It was a small cabin, far away from civilization. It would have been easy to break into if you wanted to, but you didn’t want to. You wanted to be blunt and direct.

The moment Jack opened the door he was met with the sight of you, decked out in weapons and everything needed to kill a werewolf. The panic set into his face before you held your hands up.

“I’m supposed to come and kill you tomorrow.” You said, taking a paper out from your pocket and handing it to him. It looked like an old handbill, given to you by the association to ensure that you weren’t arrested. “I’m pretty anti-murder myself, I know it’s a controversial stance, so I’m just here to give you the warning that someone wants you dead.”

“Won’t they kill you for giving this to me? Seems like someone wants you dead too.”

“Oh, yeah. They will want me dead in two days, but for now I’m clear.” You said, a rather nervous smile on your face. “I’m planning on leaving the country tomorrow morning.”

Jack seemed to be contemplating something in his mind for a moment before handing the paper back to you. “Is this a trap?”

You shook your head before taking your phone out, “I see why you might think that, but you can go through my texts if you want. I don’t want to kill you, I don’t really have a choice other than to flee.” You pulled up the scannable ticket for your flight, “So I’m fleeing.”

Jack took a look at the ticket on your phone, before taking the device into his hands and reading through the texts you had offered to him. Sure enough, the only thing he could seem to find was ‘I’d rather not kill some dude’ and ‘I’m going to let him kill me IDGAF’.

“I’m not going to kill you, so you don’t have to worry about that.” He said, and you noted the small smile on his face. “I can cook you dinner, though.”

“I was ordered to kill you and you want to cook me dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, sounds cool.” You said, walking through the door as he held it open for you. You put your coat onto the rack and removed your weapons, sliding them into your backpack before following him into the kitchen. No part of what you were doing was allowed, no part of it was something you were supposed to be doing. But you felt powerful to know that you were breaking free from the command of the people who refused to give you the choice to not kill, the people who held a gun to your head when you said that you were going to continue doing your actual job that you went to college for.

Jack took his time cooking, and once things were finally settled, he sat down beside you at the dinner table. “How did you end up here?” He asked, keeping his eyes on the stove as it continued to do it’s thing without a problem.

“My parents, they hunted people like you for a living. I was forced into it when they retired, you’re supposed to be my first.” You responded.

“People?”

“You are a person, aren’t you? You look like a person.”

“Most humans don’t really consider me a person.” He responded, shrugging gently as he watched you. Jack seemed almost ashamed of what he was, something you were told in the briefing but still something that made you sad. He didn’t ask to be a werewolf, and yet he was forced to hate himself by people like the ones you knew.

You glanced down for a moment, because in that brief second you felt ashamed in the same way he did. Of course, it was vastly different in essence of why you felt ashamed, but the people you had been forced to surround yourself with were the reason he felt so ashamed. You were a grown adult, you had no reason to not fight back. What you were doing was running, but it didn’t make it any better that for even a second you had considered whether it would be better to kill him than the run.

“The people who don’t consider you a person aren’t human.” You said after a moment, holding his eyes as you noticed them soften under your gaze. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I should go-”

“No, I want you to stay.” He said, quickly placing his hand on your arm. His grasp was firm, but not rough. It was enough to tell you that he was serious, but not too much to make you worry. “At least eat, I don’t want the food to go to waste.”

You stopped yourself from standing as you sunk into the chair. “It’s not fair of me to come in here and tell you that you need to run away.”

Every part of you had been trembling from the moment they had surprised you as you returned home from a long night in the office. The sun was low and the only light in the room was golden and dim, the silhouette of two men holding large weapons being the only thing you could make out before you switched your light on. You hadn’t felt the heart palpitations cease since you were given your assignment, since you were given the stitches on your left abdomen for refusing them at first. You didn’t want any part of this, and yet you still felt at fault for taking the cowards way out. Truthfully, you knew they could chase you into another country - you were merely in denial.

“There is another option that it’s running.” Jack finally said, bringing you out of your trance as your eyes snapped up to meet his. “They might have the tools to kill a werewolf, but we would have the element of surprise.”

He was proposing that you fought them, and while you weren’t sure you would win, you nodded in response. “They’re expecting me back in about forty-eight hours, think that’s enough time?”

“The full moon is tomorrow night, it’s enough time.”

It was odd, after spending so long surrounded by people who wanted nothing more than to kill. People who had such little understanding of what it meant to be kind, what it meant to be a real human. It was odd to you to see someone so willing to work with you, so understanding of what it was that you were going through. You wanted to hold your boundaries up high, to build a wall and stop him from speaking to you. But you couldn’t, because there was something about the man in front of you that made you trust him.

Jack stood up after a moment, heading over to the stove to check on the food before turning it off. You stood up and offered your help as he prepared it, feeling some of the stress fade from you as you worked on doing something normal and domestic. Something you hadn’t been awarded in the last week since you’d been instructed to take an emergency vacation from your job and go kill someone who you were fully sure by now didn’t deserve to die.

You didn’t notice it immediately, but helping Jack put together your dinners made the palpitations of your heart come to stop. Before, you had been feeling them every few minutes, but now you felt completely calm. Dare you say, that you almost felt happy.

Once you were both sitting back down, food and drinks in hand, you felt the tension come back over the air again as he breached the subject you had momentarily forgotten about.

“I’ll need to memorize your scent before tomorrow night, it’s the only way that I’ll be able to stop myself from attacking you.” He explained, taking a bite from his food.

“Oh, okay.” You said, not fully knowing what that entailed. You didn’t feel like it was something you needed to worry about, though, because there was no part of you that believed that Jack had any desire to hurt you. If he did, he would have turned you away the moment that you told him who you were and why you were there.

After a moment, you began to explain to him the layout of the building you were going to be entering. Everyone who would be there, what kind of weapons that you knew they had. It was difficult to try and recite what the entire thing looked like from memory, but you knew that if you didn’t do it properly there was a good chance that this would be the last full moon that Jack ever needed to worry about, and the last one that you would ever see yourself.

Once you were sure you had covered all of your bases, you were both done eating. Despite not having everything left to eat, and barely anything left to drink. You found yourself wanting to talk to him more and more, there was just something about the man that you felt drawn to. Perhaps it was because he was your ticket out of the path of becoming a hunter, but you believed it had more to do with him as a person. You’d never been surrounded by very many kind people because half of the people who you knew had been trained killers, he was almost like a breath of fresh air after being surrounded by nightmare after nightmare when it came to the personalities that you had come into contact with.

But the conversation had shifted.

No longer were you discussing what you were about to walk into, the only thing on either of your minds now seemed to be getting to know each other. Whether it be Jack asking what you did for work, or you asking what he did on the other days of the month. You seemed nothing short of intrigued by each other, and it felt absolutely refreshing. Not just for you, but for Jack as well.

It was difficult to find people who would treat him normally, who would take interest into who he was and what he liked to do for fun. But you were interested in him, in his hobbies and his personality. He had long given up on the idea of a human actually caring about him and considering him to be human as well, which is why it seemed so out of the ordinary to him that you were genuinely interested in him and what he liked.

Eventually, though, you couldn’t keep pretending that you had something left in your glass. A few moments after you finished your drink, Jack brought you over to the sink and washed the dishes you had each used with you. There was a part of you that was disappointed that the dinner was over, it had definitely been a long time since you had enjoyed something that felt nearly domestic like that.

“You’re an excellent cook.” You finally complimented, a small smile tugging at your lips when you noticed the glimmer in his eyes.

“Years of experience.” He retorted, reminding you that Werewolves tended to have a longer lifespan than humans. You wanted to ask how many years, just out of some sort of curiosity, but you decided to keep it to yourself. “You’ve been a lovely guest.”

You allowed your lips to fully transfer into a smile before feeling him take your hand into his own. You watched him place a kiss to the top of your hand, a true gentleman. However, said action quickly turned into him turning around, your hand still within his.

“The kitchen is no place to memorize a person's scent.”

You couldn’t help how warm his actions had made your body feel, the need to take off some layers becoming almost overbearing. Still, you followed him as he led you to the bedroom and allowed you to make yourself comfortable.

“It’s really not very difficult, however it is rather intimate.” He explained, sitting in front of you with an almost nervous expression. “I just wanted to warn you before I started, so you don’t feel uncomfortable.”

Despite his reassuring words, Jack seemed anything other than assured. His hands were almost shaking as his finger toyed with one of the stitches in his sweater. You leaned forward and stopped his fidgeting, a gentle smile covering your lips. “It’s okay, I trust you.”

Perhaps it seemed out of the ordinary to openly trust someone you had not only just met, but someone who you had been sent to kill, but you were fully certain that there wasn’t going to be any harm done to either one of you that night. If Jack wanted to kill you, you were sure he would’ve found a way to do so before getting to this point. And if you wanted to kill him, you wouldn’t have told him every little thing about the people you worked with and the building that you wanted to infiltrate with him. There was no reason not to trust each other, not when you were both facing life-or-death from the same people.

You let him push you back a little further so you were leaning against the bed frame, pillows cushioning you to keep your back from aching. His movements were rather gentle and slow, taking in your scent from your neck to your hair, your arms and your face. It was intimate just as he said it would be, but it also felt rather sensual. Maybe it was because the only company you had was a cat sitting on top of your back all night long, but the feeling of Jack’s nose against your pulse, his lips lightly brushing your skin… it definitely had you feeling something more than you intended.

By the time he pulled back from your neck, you could feel a bit of labor in your breath as you watched him. He was still close to you, your faces mere inches apart. You wanted to use your brain, even with what had caused you to meet each other put aside, sleeping with someone you just met was hardly ever a good idea.

But your heart won out, and you allowed your lips to press against his. Jack’s response was rather quick, though the movements of his lips were soft and careful. Everything about the man was soft and gentle, and it made you even more upset that someone would want to hurt him in any way, especially just because of what he is.

One of your hands tangled in his hair while your other moved to grasp his sweater. His body naturally molded to yours as you moved further down onto the pillows.

After a moment, Jack’s lips broke from yours. He looked down at you before glancing toward the window. “Are you sure about this?” He questioned. Of course, there was no risk of him turning tonight, however you understood his apprehension around it.

“I’m positive, I promise. But if you’re not we can… watch a movie or something?”

“No, no, I’m positive if you are.”

His lips fell against yours again, but this time he had a renewed energy. He seemed almost giddy from the movement of his lips, just glad that he was finally able to kiss someone and be with someone in the way that he wanted to be with them. You couldn’t help but feel the same way, having been isolated from people for quite a while out of fear that they would somehow be what forced you back into the job you wished to avoid, though the thing that ended up bringing you to that was fate itself.

But perhaps it wasn’t such a curse, if all of it would’ve let to this moment of the feeling of Jack’s hands tracing underneath your shirt before helping to pull it above your head. You allowed your own hands to push the sweater he was wearing off of his body before reconnecting your lips with his.

Jack, however, broke the kiss to trail his lips down your torso. You couldn’t help the way that you stared down at him, almost entranced by the essence that came off of his very being. There was something so new and exciting as you watched the man slowly pull your pants from your hips, as you raised them up slightly to make it easier for him. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself, perhaps you were enjoying things more than you should have been, but you couldn’t help but want nothing more than to watch him.

Well, that was what you wanted. Before you were immediately distracted by the feeling of two fingers brushing over your clit, which was currently only covered by the fabric of your panties. There was nothing sexy about the undergarments you had chosen to wear that morning, you’d even say that they might be more akin to granny-panties than something that you would normally be willing to show a partner, but something about the way that Jack looked at you and treated you made you feel like you were fully decked-out in a brand new lingerie set.

He took his time with you, taking in your scent and seemingly memorizing it to heart. He seemed compelled to make sure you were comfortable, to make sure you felt seen, before pulling the panties down from your hips, allowing you to shimmy them off.

However, there was very little time spent allowing you time to process what was happening as his tongue pressed against your clit. A surprised moan left your lips as your hips bucked in shock against his, startled by the suddenness of his actions. But as Jack looked up at you, you noticed the slight smirk on his lips that he had been able to get a rise out of you.

The feeling of two of his fingers pushing inside of your core filled your senses as your moans grew louder and more frequent. His tongue never ceased its attention to your clit, even when he began applying more pressure with his fingers. You were sure that he was probably the most skilled partner you had the pleasure of being with in a while, however, if it was anything like his cooking skills, you were sure he would just tell you it was experience.

If you weren’t so distracted by your pleasures you would allow your mind to wander again. To contemplate how long he had been on this Earth, to wonder what it was like to live so much longer than the average human. But you couldn’t bring yourself to consider it as his fingers curled inside of you and left you mewling as an orgasm began to build in your stomach.

“Do you want to cum for me?” His lips broke away from your clit for a moment, the green of his eyes drawing you in as you nearly frantically nodded. “Good, good girl. Cum for me, okay?”

You didn’t need to be asked twice, not as his fingers reached a spot in you that you couldn’t even reach in yourself. You weren’t sure how to explain the noise that left your mouth, but it was nothing short of primal. And it was clearly something that got a rise out of the man in front of you, as he quickly climbed back up your body and met you in a sloppy kiss.

You whined a bit at the loss of contact as he pulled back, but he merely smiled and unbuckled the belt on his pants as he stood up. “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.”

As you watched him remove his pants, you couldn’t help but sit up so you were eye level with his stomach. He watched you with a questioning glance before you brought his cock from his boxers and wrapped your mouth around the head of it.

The taste of pre-cum filled your mouth, but it shockingly tasted almost sweet to you. Perhaps it was just because you were more than enticed by the man, and that anything he did was going to be delectable to you at that moment. But something about the way he tasted and felt in your mouth, against your tongue and down your throat, made you crave him more and more.

“You don’t ha-have to do this, if you don’t want to.”

Your lips popped off of the length of his cock as you shook your head, “I want to. You taste nice.”

There was no mistaking the slight embarrassment that covered his face at your compliment, but it was quickly washed away by pleasure as you took him back into your mouth. The feeling of his cock was heavy on your tongue, you couldn’t help but be excited to take him inside of you. But for the time being you were more than content with the taste of him, the feeling of the slight thrusts he made ever-so-often causing you to cough for just a moment.

Jack never pushed too far, never tried to gag you or make you uncomfortable. Truthfully, it just seemed like he was enjoying receiving any affection at all. The thought made you sad, and you didn’t want to imagine a man who had been nothing but kind to you being sad either.

You brought your hand up to assist your mouth as you spent extra time focusing on the tip of his cock. You didn’t miss the slight pulsating of it as you sped up your actions. You wanted nothing more than to listen to the noises coming from his throat for the rest of your night, because there was something specifically special about them that you just couldn’t get enough of.

But, after a moment, he tugged on your hair and followed it with an, “I’m close- you should stop.”

The moment he spoke you removed your mouth from his cock, not missing the slight buck of his hips as his body fought against his words. But you wasted no time in crawling onto the bed. Jack didn’t waste any time either as his hands gripped your hips, pulling your torso up so you were rested on your elbows, your back arched upwards toward him.

You felt your chest heat up a bit at the revealing position, but you felt instantly calmed as he loomed over you. His warmth consumed you, as the head of his cock brushed against the folds of your cunt. You could feel his lips against your ear before he spoke, “Is this okay?”

“More than okay, I need you. Please-”

Nothing more needed to be said as Jack pushed into you, bottoming his cock out and giving you time to adjust to the feeling of it. Your body arched against his, your back pressed flush against his chest and stomach as your head fell in between his shoulder and his neck.

You glanced at his hand beside yours and tangled your fingers into his, signaling to him that you were ready for him to move whenever he wanted to. Jack was ready the moment he felt that he was given the okay, and almost immediately started thrusting into you.

It felt to you like Jack’s body melded to yours perfectly, though you believed that was only because you were in the throes of pleasure. You felt completely and utterly at his will at that moment, and, unbeknownst to you, he felt the exact same way toward you.

There was a moment where you just wanted to commit everything to memory. From the way he felt inside of you to the way he sounded when he moaned. Jack was like a work of art to you, even with the defined scars lining his torso from injuries that had just been too difficult for his human body to fully manage.

The feeling of his hand that wasn’t within your own moving around your body caught your attention, before you felt him rest on your front. His fingers pushed against your clit again, your moans becoming less controlled as your lips trailed along his neck. A more primal part of you wanted to mark him, to make him yours, and as you hear Jack’s moans grow louder at the feeling of his teeth sinking into his flesh, you knew that he wouldn’t mind a few marks in the morning.

Everything about it was dangerous. From the way that he pushed you further and further into the bed, to the way that you were sure that you were both going to be marked in the morning once you felt his lips against your shoulder. But you didn’t mind the danger, you didn’t mind the danger because you knew that it didn’t matter.

People didn’t have to know if you didn’t let them. They didn’t have to know what he was, or how you had met. They didn’t have to know that you hated what you were about to be forced to do, or what you had been trained to do from an incredibly young age. Nobody had to know the truth, there was no reason for them to. What mattered in that moment was that you wanted nothing more than to be close with each other, for some reason far past your understanding of human desire and attraction. As you felt a coil grow tighter in your stomach, you felt that may be all that would matter for eternity.

“I’m gonna cum-” You mumbled out, your words stunted by the moans rampantly escaping from your lips as Jack’s hips sped up. The only sounds filling the room were the obscene and wet noises coming from your lower halves combined with the moans escaping both of your lips.

“Me too, cum for me.” Jack’s words were just as strained as yours had been, still, he spoke again. “Where do you want it?”

It struck you that you’d forgotten the protection in the heat of the moment, though you hadn’t come to sleep with him in the first place. You didn’t bring any, though you were unclear if he had any with him anyways.

“Wherever you want, I’m on the pill.” You mumbled, too far gone to have any real care about what you were saying. You felt him flip you over rather quickly. You were on your back in an instant, both of your hands tangled together as his lips pressed against yours.

The feeling of your orgasm washed over you as your walls spasmed around his cock, your legs nearly shaking upon reaching your second orgasm of the night. By the time you had begun to come down from your high, you felt Jack pull out of you as his warm cum sprayed over your stomach. Ever the gentleman, careful enough to be as safe as you could without being technically safe.

As your breathing started to go back to normal, you felt Jack press a kiss to the corner of your lips before walking into the bathroom down the hall. The sound of the shower water filled your ears before he came back in with some towels and bathrobes.

“Do you want to join me?” He seemed almost timid and nervous, you’d think your stomach wasn’t currently covered in his bodily fluids.

Still, you only smiled as you stood up and walked over to him. “I’d love to, we can’t kill those losers smelling funky.” You responded.

As you went to walk with him, he stood in place before gently grabbing your cheek and pulling you into another delicate kiss. Your lips melted against his, hell, you were pretty sure you melted against him entirely, as you returned the kiss.

“You won’t leave once it’s over, will you?” There was something that seemed hurt about the man in front of you, and with what you were sure he went through, you could understand why. Your eyes soften as your own hand found his cheek, your thumb caressing the bone beneath it.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You responded, pressing a kiss to his forehead as a toothy smile covered his face. Maybe being forced into a job you didn’t really want wasn’t so bad afterall, not when it meant that you got to run away from it all with Jack. As you both walked toward the bathroom, you wondered if that was the exact reason that fate had brought you there in the first place.

#💋#jack russell x reader

543 notes · View notes

icedcoffeeinthevoid · 2 years ago

Text

Obedient

Jack Russell x f!reader

Summary: Jack will always find his way home to you out of loyalty. It's his obedience that leaves you both fulfilled. Rating: 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Length: 2.7k(ish) Content: established relationship, fluff, reunion, canon-accurate canine-like mannerisms, blood mentions, SMUT (fingering, unprotected p in v, submissive/power bottom Jack, praise kink, dirty talk, scratching, creampie) | Author Masterlist | Taglist Requests |

Jack (02:30 p.m.) I want to come home.

The text alert brightened your phone in your dimly lit apartment, the pounding rain already darkening the sky this early in the afternoon. You’d stayed home from work today, knowing that last night was a full moon and preparing yourself for the return of your partner, Jack Russell. He’d been gone for a couple of weeks this time, but you knew that the after-effects of the moon’s full glow would have him crawling home to you, delicate and desperate for your soft affections. His aching bones would carry him home to you, and he’d likely already began the trek to you hours ago. It was almost pitiful how no matter how badly you’d been forced to worry for him, his wide and pleading eyes winning you over with no real effort. It was in your nature to care for him.

Me (02:35 p.m.) I’ll see you soon, then.

You wouldn’t give into him until you saw him, communicating your frustration with his complete absence until you couldn’t anymore. He’d know by the lack of concern or personality expressed in the message that he had an apology to plan – but he had to hope as he made his way back to you that you would be patient. He knew you would. You were always patient with him. It was the reason he’d allowed himself this relationship – if that was even the word for it – to continue for as long as it had been. No matter how far he found himself from you, it was always his instinct to find his way back to you. Thankfully, the routine that had been set in motion had gone uninterrupted for so long that when he finally arrived at the familiar wood of your door, he knew where the spare key awaited to let him in.

His first steps past the threshold were overwhelming – a delicious smell coming from your kitchen, the combination that only you could create by cooking him dinner and just being you. Taking a momentary pause to breathe in fully and dissatisfied with how muted you were, he hurried his movements along again, shaking his hair free of the wet rain from outside. It took extra restraint not to run to you, then, to finally be with you again, but he did manage to hold himself back long enough to slip free of mud-covered boots and soaked outer layers. Content he’d not ruin your apartment with the smell of wet dog, he made his way to you silently, pausing in the frame of the kitchen to admire you.

He awarded himself a moment to soak in the figure he’d missed, plotting the places he wanted to kiss, mapping his favorite parts of you from memory as instinct pulled him closer, his arms snaking around your waist from behind as he waited for the moment he knew would come next – his favorite moment. Hearing the gentle skip to your heart and the soft sigh that released from your lips he gave into you, leaning his full weight against your body to pin you into the counter as he buried his face in your hair, whispering quiet hellos between overjoyed whimpers. Your hands barely managed to move before they were trapped, reaching to grasp over his own on your stomach. It was always this way when he came home, and there wasn’t a single part you’d change. It was as much a routine for you as it was him.

A few deep breaths calmed his pounding heart, it gave him mental fog to satiate his wild mind for the first time since he’d seen you last. The momentary reprieve allowed him the chance to press his lips to your temple, finally finding it within himself to speak. “You don’t smell like me, mi amor,” he observed aloud, the downward curve of his lips growing prominent against your skin before he pressed another gentle kiss.

“That’s what happens when you’re away for weeks, sweetheart,” you cooed, turning your head to taunt him closer to the kiss he craved.

“I hate when you don’t smell like me,” he whined, bowing his head into the crook of your neck and rubbing his face against any part of you he could along the way. His lips connected with the part of your neck he’d permanently marked long ago, the scars of an over-zealous bite mark like a love letter against his lips. He nibbled at the spot lovingly, inhaling another deep breath of your scent. His lips curved into that sneaking smile against your skin, one of his knees knocking yours apart to spread your legs. A deeper inhale was chased by a longing moan, his arms pulling you back into him so your body curved into his, his hardened cock evident through the boxers he stood in. “What you do to me, dios mío…”

“You haven’t even had your dinner,” you attempted seriousness, your racing heart giving away your true desires. His hands slid to grasp at your waist, enjoying how your body responded by pushing back into him, grinding your waist back into his. The pressure against his cock was appreciated, and yet not enough – he was always at his most insatiable when he returned to you. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, grinding forward into you with a quiet whimper as he worked the tie of your robe free. The click of your tongue against your teeth nearly stilled his efforts, but he couldn’t resist placing more kisses along your shoulder as he removed your robe slowly. “You have to eat.”

“Later,” he tried to sound insistent and instead it left his mouth as a beg, his hands scrambling to drop your robe to the ground and gain access to every inch of your skin. “Later, I promise, mi amor. Please…”

His desperation always convinced you, and now proved no different than any of the other times he’d done this. Forcing your strength to flip around in his arms you fought to keep as much of yourself against him, leaning forward to nuzzle the side of your face against his lightly. The simple gesture mirrored one he’d given to you many times, the intimacy almost overwhelming him before he turned his head to finally capture your lips in his. His thigh slotted between your legs, the slickness of your arousal coating his uncovered thigh with embarrassing speed. The feeling only deepened your kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you finally moaned for him, thrusting against his thigh in desperate need of friction.

Your hands found his chest, pushing backward toward your bedroom as you silently gave into him, knowing the kitchen wasn’t going to offer nearly anything close to what both of you needed tonight. Stepping backward and bringing you with him he kept his lips in perfect rhythm with yours until the backs of his knees hit the bed, falling backward into the familiar smell of you as he pulled you with him. You found your way comfortably to his waist, straddling as you trailed your kisses down his throat, sliding one of your hands down his torso until you worked his boxers down his legs, grinding down against him with a wanton moan.

“Tell me what you want, darling…” you purred, the sound vibrating through his chest as you pressed against him, wrapping a hand around his hardened length. You reached to drag your teeth against the sensitive skin beneath his ear, a motion you knew would chase away any remaining restraint from him. His hands grasped your hips hard enough to mark his grasp, thrusting up into your hand and toward your leaking entrance above him. The quiet whimper left his throat in frustration, too desperate for your teasing tonight and yet unwilling to refuse anything you offered.

“Please, mi amor, you know I want you,” he whined, fingernails threatening to break skin on your hips as you languidly stroked his length. Your head tilted to gaze at him with a loving, hooded gaze, your eyes communicating your desire for him to say more. “You know I ache for you this way – I have to be buried in you.”

You never did this from cruelty – hearing him beg for you after weeks of choosing to be away from you and having this little bit of power over him always helped to soothe your frustration. Jack knew that fact and, yes, exploited it – though he hardly thought you’d mind if you knew he gave into this carnal need for you seeing as both of you benefited. You lowered yourself just enough to rub the tip of his cock around your dripping entrance, biting your lip as your eyes sought his out.

"If you want me so badly, be a good boy and take me how you really want to take me,” you ordered, your instructions adding to the fire building in his chest. A quiet whimper left his throat at your affectionate name for him, your command hitting the well-trained part of his brain that craved to be obedient to you. When your eyes connected with his, teeth pulling your bottom lip between them he finally found the strength within himself, moving to rest on his knees on the bed as he flipped you over, helping you to your hands and knees.

He grasped his length in his own fist, stroking back and forth gently as his other hand reached forward, fingers tenderly pushing apart your folds to get a look at your awaiting entrance. He slipped the tip of his finger into you slowly, ensuring you were wet enough for him as he knelt behind you and waited for his perfect moment. After several thrusts into you with two fingers he earned the cue he’d been waiting for as a moan sounded from your chest, your collected exterior melting under him.

“Jack,” you moaned, the sound choking off in a whimper as he grasped your hips in his hands and thrust his throbbing cock into you, your velvet walls accepting inch by inch of him as an almost-growl rumbled through him.

He bottomed out in you perfectly, mentally remarking how you were truly made for one another, the tip of his length brushing against your cervix and nearly causing you to collapse. Thankfully, his hands kept a firm grasp on your hips, and he held you back against him, allowing only your head to lower onto the awaiting pillow beneath you.

“Dios mío,” he complimented, fingernails digging into your skin again to the point of drawing some blood forward, unable to control himself entirely. It was a reality you’d accepted long ago – you didn’t always walk away completely unscathed…if you could walk at all. You did, however, wear whatever marks he imposed with pride, and it always made him stay just a bit longer than the last time. He removed his length almost in entirety before thrusting back into your waiting heat, another groan pulled from his chest in appreciation at being united with you again. “I can never get enough.”

You wanted to reply, to compliment him, to thank him for his kindness and for taking you exactly how both of you needed – but it was at that exact moment that he found the perfect angle to enter you, the sensitive head of his length rubbing against the velvety patch deep within you. A quiet cry rewarded his effort, his hold on your waist the only thing keeping you from collapse against the bed. The sounds of his skin hitting against yours filled the room with his feral groans, his eyes transfixed on how each inch disappeared into you.

“You should see how beautiful you look taking me, mi amor,” he growled out between thrusts, bending his body over yours carefully to press a kiss to the back of your neck. Your thighs began to quake beneath the pressure of his as his hips snapped into yours, lips dragging downward across your shoulder accompanied by gentle nibbles. “Come on me, amor.”

It wasn’t an order – it was a quiet plea; a hopeful beg that you would come undone for him more than once like he so desperately wanted – and one that you were more than happy to fulfill. You moaned his name loudly as you came undone, your walls clenching around him which almost pushed him to his own end. When he was certain you’d rode out your orgasm on him, pushing back to meet his thrusts repeatedly, he carefully withdrew from you. Your irritated whimper inspired one of his genuine smiles to spread across his face as he flipped you to your back, hands sliding to your thighs to encourage you to wrap your legs around his waist.

His absence from you was only momentarily, pushing each inch into you immediately as his lips claimed yours again, the taste of you clouding his mind further and adding a new vigor to his thrusts, his movements entirely ravenous as he held you close. Your hands found their way to his back, nails scratching down his toned muscles and causing raised lines to follow. His movements faltered, becoming messy at your own desperate actions, his release teetering on the edge as you bowed your head to press your lips to his neck in a firm kiss.

“You…you’re s-so good, Jack,” you spoke through moans, your breaths hot against his neck as he picked a relentless pace into you, his hips hitting yours hard enough to bruise. The praise from you started to pull a groan from his chest, but at the same moment you chose to bite at the skin of his neck just enough to mark his skin. The only sound he could manage to sputter out was yet another desperate whine, his hands grasping your thighs and nails digging in as his movements faltered more. “Are you going to come for me, Jack?”

Your falsely innocent question was met with the return of his thrusts, his actions relentless as he chased euphoria to give you what you asked for. His words were breathy, sputtered out through shallow pants as he chose to beg a final time for the night – to finish how he’d desired for months. “Please…want to fill you, amor.” The clench of your walls around him was unmistakable, your thighs shaking around him once again. One of his hands slid to connect his thumb to your swollen clit, rubbing fervent circles around the nub to coax you into another level of ecstasy.

“Jack, yes, I…fuck, yes, yes, yes…” you conceded, legs shaking harder as you threw your head back, eyes rolling to white in your bliss as you called out his name again. He was already spilling into you following your first affirmation, hot white strings of his release painting your walls in the very way he’d dreamt of for months. His teeth connected with the same spot he’d earlier paid attention to once again, marking the same area anew for anyone who may see.

As you both came down from your high, he stayed above you, conscious to keep his full weight from you but close enough to press kisses across your face, neck, and shoulders. Your hands rubbed lightly up and down his back, gradually pulling him closer until you could reach to press a gentle kiss to his lips, your hands comfortable on his mid-back. Taking your movement as a sign to move forward with his own he removed his cock from you slowly, both of you sighing at the loss despite knowing it wouldn’t be for long. Your lips pressed against his forehead in a tender gesture before you rolled to your side, nestling back against him as his arms found their way around you.

With a gentle kiss below your ear and deep inhale in, you could feel the subtle curve to his lips as he held you closer. “You smell like me again, mi amor.”

Authors Note: the first of many Jack Russell works. likes are appreciated, but feedback in the replies or reblogs means the world. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. x Malley

#💋#jack russell x reader

324 notes · View notes

icedcoffeeinthevoid · 2 years ago

Note

Hello

I was stalking your blog for Marvel content after reading What’s in the Closet, Steven? (I’m feral for that fic) and saw your requests are open!

I was wondering if you could write a smut with Jack Russell (bless Marivel for casting Gael), where in the days leading to the full moon, his libido increases so he tries to stay away from the reader during this time because he wants her so bad he fears he might be too rough and hurt her. Worried for him, reader decides to go check on him, but the moment Jack opens the door he smells another’s man scent on her and loses it. He makes it his mission to get rid of the scent and mark her as his (and the reader absolutely loves it).

The Motel Room

Summary: Jack’s been distant and you try to confront him in his hiding place, also happening to be the musty motel you were staying at for your mission.

Warnings: Smut, scent kink (HC:Jack smells like tea), breeding kink, marking, possessive/jealousy, not really dark more like dark themes, mention of Jack thinking about killing someone

A/n: What’s in the Closet, Steven? is the favorite child in terms of my fics, I’m glad you like it 🙈. Thank you so much for the request!!! I literally just came back from a Geography exam and I saw this in the inbox and I was like this one is the one that starts it all. ❤️❤️ ❤️

He was practically shaking. The moment he was in your vicinity he wanted to puke. In a good way. You were so kind and thoughtful. So gentle and patient with him. You were so sweet and kind and he could smell you from a mile away. He wanted you so badly it hurt, literally.

He tries to hide the way he was straining against his pants around you these past few days. The way he starts to pant like a dog whenever you were near, making him want to tear your clothes off with his bare teeth. He even started fantasizing about you in plain daylight. Just watching you order a coffee made him feral. Watching you in action made him worse.

He wanted to lick the sweat from the valley of your breasts as you tended to your wounds, barely covered in a thin white tank top. He wanted to lick into your heat when he can smell the slight change in your scent from your ovulation period, making you sweeter and ripe.

Gods, he acted like a fiend, a pervert when you were ovulating, consequently going in time with the moon cycles. He wanted you badly, it just got ten times worse with each night, waiting for the full moon to finally rise.

He spent more time alone, going to sleep earlier, being busier in terms of looking for things to do and of course you notice. You notice everything about him. It was your job.

You initially partnered up with him, wanting to help him in his charity to those unlucky few who needed it, those being hunted. As a reformed hunter you wanted to save the good ‘monsters’ and take out the ones who were using their abilities for malignant matters.

He’s been distant, touchy and fretful around you. He even seemed to have lost contact the past three days. You were disappointed. You thought he understood that you left hunting to the past, that you wanted to save people not hurt innocent lives. It was time for confrontation.

You knock on the door repeatedly, desperate for any indication that he was even alive. Glancing to the side you catch a glimpse of an old woman with a cart full of cleaning supplies, piling on sheets onto a basket. You tap your feet against the concrete floor and sigh when you notice her stare, arching her brow at your look of irritation from the door not opening.

You turn to her and smile with a grimace. She purses her lips and shakes her head.

“Cuidado niña, ese hombre…”, she mumbles, cutting off with an final shake of her head. You can hear the pity mixed with concern. You nod to her as she leaves, glancing back at you over her shoulder.

You start to knock on the door again, this time harder than before.

“Please, Jack, you’re worrying me.”, you plead.

He shuffles in bed, pressing his nose against the pillows in desperation, trying to block your scent with the cotton of the sheets. He whimpers when he sniffs a hint of you coming from the door.

The doorknob shakes and stops repeatedly after you heard him. He was in pain, you think. He was suffering and it wasn’t a full moon yet. Something was wrong.

He didn’t expect you to pick the lock.

He held his breath, stopping air from invading his senses and pushes his face against the pillow cases that smelled like his sweat and the motels laundry detergent as you closed the door behind you.

“Please, leave…”, he stutters, drool was starting to accumulate in his mouth when you start to get closer. His chest compresses and decompresses quickly, and you hesitate; that was usually a sign of him changing. He sniffs loudly and you can see his face sour in a mix of irritation and disgust the second your hand meets his shoulder.

He curses under his breath at the burning feeling in his stomach.

“Who was with you?”, he rasps out, glaring at the wall behind you, trying to keep his breathing even and opening his mouth to not take in your scent with his nose.

Where have you been? Why do you have the smell of a man on you? Is that a hint of blood? Where have you been?

“Marc Spector. He helped me out with something because you were too busy staying in bed.”, you say, your tone was playful, if not teasing. You knew they were work partners at best, some super secret supernatural group that they were members of or something. He didn’t like talking about other men around you.

He growls, deep and in warning causing the sound to reverberate across the room. You pause, your hands going up in defense as he starts to sit up. He loathes the man. He still remembers the day Marc, or was it Jake?, tried to kill him. How he had to explain himself to the man in white in order to keep his neck intact. He was infuriated.

He briefly thinks of his next meeting with Moon Knight, how he would like to return the favor, only this time he would finish the job.

You yelp in surprise when he pulls you down, making your back bounce against the mattress as he positions himself on top of you. He stares and you awkwardly look at anywhere but his eyes making him huff. He knows it wasn’t true, he really does but deep down he can’t shake the thought that someone else was trying to take you away, that by finding his scent on yours, making your warm and sweet essence stifle against theirs, it meant he was being challenged.

And the metallic twang didn’t pass him either, he let you get injured. He was going to tear him apart, he’s sure whatever magical powers his god gave him would help him heal but it would still hurt. He wants to see his wrappings tainted red, dripping from the way he would claw into his chest. Have him scream in mercy as he pulls his arms out of their sockets, make him squeal like a pig-

You watch, your brows scrunching in confusion, as his pupils dilate and his gaze starts to roam over you. He’s starting to pant again, his mouth opening and closing in time with his chest. You nudge his shoulder, worried. He focuses on your eyes again, his eyes narrowing before he dives in, starting to lick over your neck.

Your body flushes with heat, grasping his shoulders as he mouths over your exposed skin. You moan lightly when you feel him glide under your jaw, you close your eyes momentarily shifting your hips under him and pressing your thighs together. He was so warm on top of you, his actions seeming desperate.

“Need to get him off.”, he rasps, grabbing your hand and licking your wrist, laying his tongue flat against your palm. His eyes were unfocused again, intent on his mission of cleansing you and replacing the stench with his scent.

He swallows hard when he’s done, finally taking the time to taste you on his tongue and savoring it, he presses himself against you and your breathless, as if you just went running. You were pent up, aroused at the thought of his tongue elsewhere, preferably against your cunt. He could smell your arousal sweetening the room.

He smothers his head against your neck, pressing his nose to the column of your throat. You gasp when his hands move under your shirt, skimming over your stomach and your ribs, pressing himself against you and running his hands over you with eagerness. He looks up at the sound of your change of breath, eyes wide and wandering over your face.

“I am so sorry”, he says, his voice straining.

“It’s okay.”, you whisper. Your hands move over to his neck and he shivers. You look deeply into his eyes and gulp harshly. He didn’t miss the meaning of your lashes fluttering on the apples of your cheeks, or the way your lips seemed to have plumped by the way you were biting your lip.

He starts to push himself away, away from you, away from his desires, away from the beast within him. But, you pull him back in, hurriedly pushing your lips against his in an attempt to keep him there. You were surprised by the way he slipped his tongue into you, gasping and sloppily moving against your mouth in hunger.

You both pant when you separate and you hurriedly work over his pants, pulling them down to expose his cock. He was stunned by your want.

He was leaking, his tip swollen and weeping. You almost coo. He’s been wanting this for who knows how long. He could have just told you, asked you even. You would have gladly dropped everything to help him.

You flip and get on top of him, sitting on his lap slowly as if you were trying not to scare him. He was nervous, his hands hovering over your hips as you raise on your knees.

“You smell good.”, he husks out, you hum.

“How?”, you ask, as if you weren’t currently taking off your pants and moving your panties to the side. He gazes between your thighs, creeping his hand slowly up your legs and grazing his knuckles over your opening.

You sigh when his thick fingers stuff into you, slowly massaging into your walls and spreading your slick against your folds. You grind against his palm, relishing in the way he moves his wrist to help you along.

You whined when he pulled away, but you were later greeted with an image of his fingers in his mouth, licking your arousal up to his knuckles, closing his eyes and moaning.

“Like candy, warm and sweet.”, he says pulling you closer and against the tip of his shaft.

“Miel.”, he whispers against your cheek.

You didn’t know how he could possibly kiss you so gently as he guided himself inside of you. He was stretching you wide, making you groan at the slight pain. You felt as if you were going to combust. He felt that way too. You were overtaking all of his senses, he could smell you, taste you, feel you. He was finally being satisfied, but he needed more.

You moaned, feeling even more heat build in your chest and travel to our clit as he tore your shirt apart, shrugging it off you along with your bra.

He thrusts up shallowly into you, pushing his face against your breasts, mouthing at the flesh and grazing at your nipple with his teeth. You figured out quickly that he loved to leave marks, he loved the way your skin tinged darker and bloomed because of him. He loved the way you gasped intertwining your fingers in his hair and moaning deeply as he pushed you down again, making him crawl and press his weight over you.

His hands move over your hips, up your stomach and he momentarily stops, thinking of what it would be like to fill you up, to mark you both on your skin and inside of your cunt. He can feel the way you suck him in tightly, pulsing in anticipation for him to start pounding into you. He rocked instead, savoring you as he tweaked with your nipples imagining your breasts swelling. He groaned deeply at the rush of thoughts of having you covered head to toe in soft blankets, drowsy and satisfied as morning shines through the blinds of a window, waiting for him to join you.

“You’re mine.”, he grunts finally flexing his hips and making the bed rock from the sudden jerk.

You nod closing your eyes tightly, grasping against his shoulders and spreading your legs impossibly wider.

“You’re mine and your body knows it. I know it.” You move your head to the side, garbling a moan in your throat as he starts to move deep into you. Your walls convulse as he murmurs against your skin, praising your abilities as a fighter, how he’s been wanting to sink into you from the moment he saw you, even when you threatened to kill him.

How he wanted to cause bodily harm to every single person who’s gotten close to you.

One of your hand fists on the sheets beside you, another grasps onto his neck, tightening and releasing as if signaling him to get rougher, to go faster. He understood you so well. He likes to please, he likes to satisfy. The room is filled with your scents combined, the slick sound of his cock plunging into you, kissing your cervix and stretching your gummy walls reverberating over the room.

You almost feel bad for the person on the other side of the walls.

You tremble when his hand goes between your bodies, rubbing over your clit in circles and making you melt against the mattress. Your ‘ahs’ continue to raise in volume, each of his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

He bites down on your neck and you swear you see stars. You expected to feel pain from the sheer amount of pressure on your neck but all you feel is electricity coursing through your body.

You didn’t notice you were silently screaming, holding your breath as you convulsed on his cock and your thighs shook.

You feel his sticky warmth pump inside you as he thrusts shallowly.

Your body feels as if it was floating in air, enveloped in his warmth as he positioned you under the sheets, pulling them over your shoulders.

You didn’t notice he was smothering his cum over your thighs, collecting some on the tips of his fingers and caressing it into your neck like a cream.

He kissed you all over your face lightly. Pecking over you making you sigh in content.

He sniffed the air, closing his eyes and groaning at the new scent in the room.

He whispers gratitudes against your head, pushing you against his neck and enveloping you further in his scent.

“Don’t ever talk to him again. Not without me being there.”, he says, his voice steady.

His hands tighten over you and you freeze.

“Me oíste?”, he whispers into your ear.

You nod against his chest and he smiles, burying his nose against your hair and taking in the scent of your essence now turned into a mix between honey and tea.

——————————

A/n: I think I changed some things a bit, but I hope it satisfies your needs anon!! ❤️❤️❤️

#jack russell x reader #💋

1K notes · View notes

icedcoffeeinthevoid · 2 years ago

Text

For All Time - Chapter One

Pairing: 1789! Morpheus x reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Entangled in a forced engagement with an unloving family friend, a mysterious Lord makes a legendary appearance at one of your family’s parties. However, it only takes a chance encounter for the King of Dreams to want you all for his own.

Warning(s): Talks of a forced engagement, mean family members, angst, slight sadness, and a chance meeting + love at first sight. (And Morpheus quoting Neil 🥹🥹)

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write for Morpheus in this setting since the series premiere! He’s been living in my head rent free, so I hope you all enjoy! And thank you so much for 3k followers!!

| For All Time Masterlist |

‘People think dreams aren’t real just because they aren’t made of matter, of particles. Dreams are real.’

Words conceived from pure silk emitted from an unknown proclamation that seemed to capture the very stars themselves. The essence of this precious vow was heard by none, as intended.

Keep reading

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #morpheus #1789 morpheus

475 notes · View notes

icedcoffeeinthevoid · 2 years ago

Text

Mysterious - The Corinthian Imagine (The Sandman)

Title: Mysterious

Pairing: The Corinthian X Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 1,097 words

Warning(s): none

Summary: The Corinthian allowed himself to have the closest thing to a best friend that you can have. Even he doesn't know why he didn't expect them to have some questions about who he is.

Author's Note: Listen. I just thought this was kinda funny. The idea of the Corinthian having a best friend that really isn't anything like him makes me chuckle.

Also, I haven't seen anyone write for him. Which was honestly kinda shocking, but I may have just missed them.

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

Being friends with the Corinthian was such a strange but amazing thing.

Even after getting past the fact that he called himself the Corinthian and refused to call himself anything else, there were just so many mysteries. The fancy suits, the attitude, the way he seemed to disappear for days (he would go on to explain them as work trips).

However, after being friends with him for so long, there was only one mystery that I wanted an answer to.

The damn glasses.

All hours of the day, no matter the weather, no matter the activity. He was always wearing glasses that perfectly covered his eyes. At first, I thought it was just a fashion choice. But as I saw how protective he got over them, I realized that it was something very different.

Now, I felt awful for doing this.

This was my best friend- or as close as I had ever gotten to a best friend- and I should've been able to just trust him. But I needed answers.

"I have a peace offering!"

I grinned as I walked down the hall to my apartment. The Corinthian was standing by my door with a bag of takeout.

"How long have you been out here," I asked.

"Not long."

"I don't believe you."

"Well, that's not my fault, now, is it?"

I chuckled and unlocked the door. He passed me and set the bag on my table as I shut the door behind me. I had to walk around him to put my stuff down.

"How's your day been?"

"Boring," I confessed.

"That's what happens when you don't see this face," he replied.

"Ah, yes, what a lesson I've learned," I rolled my eyes. "So humble, aren't you?"

"Oh, of course," he nodded.

I chuckled. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

"Don't be an ass," I scoffed. He held up his hands for a moment. "Why do you keep the glasses on?"

"Because I look damn good in them."

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"You don't agree?"

"You're not telling me the truth."

"Then, what's your theory?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I wanted you to tell me."

"Trust me," the Corinthian stepped closer to me. "There's nothing mysterious going on here."

I nodded before biting my lip for a second. It was time to do something very, very stupid.

“Sorry!”

I snagged the glasses off of his face and ran in the opposite direction. I was left with one option: jump onto the bed and hope he won’t follow me.

I held the glasses stretched out in one arm, holding them away from him, and the other pushed out to attempt to keep him away.

When I saw his eyes, my heart felt like it stopped for a moment. Instead of eyes, there were two small mouths. I wasn’t scared of him. I was sad. Sad for him.

He didn’t move past the edge of the bed. Something about the look on my face made him less jumpy, I guess.

“Who did that to you,” I asked.

“Not the reaction I normally get,” the Corinthian replied like he was trying to make some kind of joke. When I didn’t laugh, he sighed.

“Who did this to you,” I repeated, voice louder and firmer. “And what did they actually do?”

His jaw clenched and he tilted his head down for a moment.

"I'm a nightmare."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "I mean... sometimes you seem a bit grumpy for no reason, but I don't see that being a good enough-"

"Not like that," he stopped me. He stepped forward. "I was created in the realm of dreams. I was created as a literal nightmare."

I blinked at him a few times.

"I didn't want you knowing," he continued. "You're the only person that I see any real value in. I thought this would scare you off."

I was still processing. A nightmare. I wasn't even sure that I fully understood what he was saying.

"You were made to haunt people's dreams," I asked, trying to make sure that I wasn't being stupid.

"Yeah," he replied. His shoulders dropped when I didn't say anything else. "I should go. Just hand me back my glasses and you'll never hear from me again."

My heart dropped when he said that.

"Well, as long as you keep your mouth shut about- woah."

I jumped off the bed and quickly pulled him into a hug. There was a long pause before I felt his arms wrap around me. He let out another sigh as his body relaxed, hugging me tighter.

"I don't want you to go," I muttered, almost sounding like a child begging their parent not to go to work. "Please don't go."

"I won't, I won't," he promised. "Just don't make me leave."

"I won't."

I stepped back and grinned at him, holding the glasses out to him. Even if I did mind- which I didn't- it was his choice if he wanted to waltz around without his glasses.

"Thank you," he grabbed the glasses from my hand and placed them back on his face. "See? They make me look good."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes at him.

"You really don't agree?"

"Didn't say that."

He pointed at me. "HA! I knew it!"

I stuck my tongue out at him before chuckling and shaking my head. I looked at him for a moment.

"What," the Corinthian asked. I raised an eyebrow at him. "I can see the little gears in your head working. Now, what is it?"

"I just... I have some really dumb questions about the mouth-for-eye thing."

He let out a laugh. "Let's get a drink and I'll answer any question you want."

I nodded and walked over to the counter, getting two drinks together. I handed him a glass and he motioned over to my table.

"Alright," he said, relaxing into the seat across from me. "What do you wanna know?"

"Do you have to eat through them," I asked.

"Have to? No."

"But you can?"

"Yup."

"What's that look like?"

"I don't think you actually wanna see that."

"Okay," I nodded. "Do you... Do you brush your... eye-teeth?"

There was a moment of silence before he spoke, "I am too sober for this conversation."

"Come on."

"No, I don't."

"What are you actually seeing with?"

"(Y/n)..."

"It's a good question!"

The night continued like that. Stupid conversations. Like nothing had happened. Nothing had changed.

And really, that's all I could've hoped for. Because I still had him.

And that's all I wanted.

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

Author's Note: We. love. wholesome. besties. Even when one of them is a murderer.

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

Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#the corinthian #Corinthian #the sandman

774 notes · View notes

icedcoffeeinthevoid · 2 years ago

Text

𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬.

⊹ pairing: the corinthian x reader

⊹ summary: how your favourite nightmare loves. this is a slightly dark version, as the corinthian is a nightmare. you don't expect someone like him to love someone in a good, pure way, do you?

⊹ warnings: descriptions of violence (eyeball popping), borderline nsfw (in par with his character since his only scenes are either being a serial killer or serial fucker)

⊹ word count: 3193

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 with a voice that oozes charisma and is thick and sweet like honey, (makes you want to open your mouth to him), you bet words will be the love language he uses in abundance. but is he talking to you sweetly or manipulating you? does it really matter?

morpheus seems to have given the corinthian the verbal skills he himself lacks

this nightmare is a talker. as you can see by how hooked everyone is on his words, from little jed, naive rose, and by inspiring a cult of serial killers, this man knows how to use his looks and his words to get people to do what he wants: to trust him

but the first time he meets you, he is speechless

the person he's talking to and who he was going to kill later that evening, is forgotten as he's too struck to do anything else but look at you curiously. your eyes meet across the room, and the room goes in a bit of a haze as all he can see is you.

obsessed with you immediately, and he doesn't even know why (guess he takes after his creator in having intense, all-consuming relationships)

approaches you and talks to you immediately. in minutes, has your back against a wall, his body covering yours from others and has your attention the entire night. has one hand on the wall beside your head

stands close enough that you can smell his aftershave and woodsy cologne

he has never lathered on as much sweet talk to a person as he did that night to you

by the end of the night, you are as consumed by him as he is by you

he loves to talk to you. domestic bliss with him is him telling you all about his day—the weather, the news, what he had for lunch

abundance of pet names, but mostly sweetheart, baby, and a little darling—all said with that slowed, drawl of his that just hearing is enough to make you tense and your breath hitch

enter: praise talk (is this still sfw?)

he'll praise you for every single thing you do, and make it sound like you did it for him. after awhile, you get used to his praises and get hooked on it. you start doing things just to hear him praise you, and don't you worry, he will

he does this thing where he watches you from the side as you do something, then he'll praise you

"i see you for who you truly are." (did i just take out of context the quote he said to serial killers? yes)

builds up your self confidence with an onslaught of compliments and praise

"you look beautiful, darling."

"with that on, everyone in the room will be staring at you and grow envious of me for being with you."

never lets you doubt yourself and your abilities for one second

is actually quite encouraging for whatever your aspirations are. who is he to judge, after all?

the first time you try to take someone's eyeballs, he's standing off to the side, leaning cooly against the wall, his tongue running over his lips from how dry they've become at watching the person he loves doing something he loves. but taking eyeballs is careful work, and you fail. the nerve snaps in half

at the first dismayed sound you release, he's by your side immediately and cupping your face, murmuring reassurances that you did so well for the first time and he's so proud of you

he shows you how proud by taking your hand and placing it over the tent in his pants

the first time you successfully take someone's eyeballs, his praises are said with a voice low and from the back of his throat

"well done, sweetheart."

"you did so good, baby. so good."

he moves in front of you and takes the eyeballs from your hand, but you move your hand away. he's confused at first, but then you raise your other hand towards his shades and remove them—all while looking at him with innocent eyes that have become slightly hooded with lust and adrenaline

he drops to a fucking knee and tilts his head up at you. he looks at you reverently, like you are the only higher being he'd submit to. he holds onto your wrist, more to steady himself than control you, as you bring the eyeball to one of his eyes (or is it still called mouths?), never breaking eye contact all the while

and when he's done, and you kiss away the blood that escapes down his cheek, he rises and kisses you hard and leaving you with no sense of direction but him, him, him

𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 the corinthian has always been demanding with your time, but after morpheus is released, he starts bringing you everywhere you go. he doesn't know if it's to keep you safe so morpheus can't take you from him, or him just wanting to spend as much fleeting time as he can with you.

the two of you are stuck to the hip, and it's not you being clingy, but him, not that he'd ever admit it

it's him who insists that he go everywhere with you in case something bad happens?

corruption kink

you're definitely innocent the first time he meets you. but there's something in your eyes that's not quite...right. you're innocent but accepting. too accepting. meaning you'll see a person commit the most atrocious act and still somehow understand them. empathize with them

it turns him on, not gonna lie

takes you with him on his kills

the first time he does, it's a test to see if you'll scream and run away and he has to take your eyeballs

you don't and pass his test

the next few times, you don't do anything. you just stand or sit to the side while he does his usual thing at the office

but one day, he sees it. a glint of interest in your eye. the tilt of your head that tells him you're interested in whatever you're watching and trying to memorize it.

he confirms his suspicions when he beckons you to come over to him with a tilt of his head. he nearly forgets to kill his victim as he's too busy kissing you against the wall

from then on, you alternate

while killing them is more satisfying to him, it's the way you feed him afterwards that makes him willing to let you kill since that intimacy always brings him to his knees

but during off hours when you're both not being an infamous serial killer couple, you both like to sightsee

the corinthian has been to a lot of places in the past hundred years, and has grown to like travelling just so he can experience many countries'…delicacies

you accompany him as you fly business class everywhere. coliseum in rome. great wall of chine. northern lights in iceland

he's also a surprisingly good babysitter

exhibit a: that episode with jed (yes, he was lowkey kidnapping him), showed that he's good at handling them. (he teased jed if he wanted to drive and kept him safe from that one serial killer)

so when the time comes that you ask him to babysit someone with you, he's actually quite good

the kids like and trust him immediately

seeing you with them could give you baby fever, and the smirk on his face tells you he knows what he's doing

he's that cool, laidback dad who lets you do things the other parent doesn't as long as you keep your mouth shut for it

(why am i alternating between nsfw headcanons and dad headcanons?)

𝗽𝗵𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 did you see how firm yet gentle he was with the people he hooked up with? this nightmare will caress you too ruin

caress

that's the only appropriate word to describe how this man touches you. the brush of his knuckles against your cheek while you sit on the edge of the bed while he stands in between your legs

sometimes closes your eyes with the pad of his thumb and gently rubs it

some couples get kisses on the cheek or the forehead

you get them on your eyes

he'll gently close them with the paid of his thumb and rub it slightly. then he presses a soft, lingering kiss against that soft, fragile skin that protects the organ he loves the most

has a thing for pushing you against objects when kissing you (exhibit b: pushes roommate-lover against bed, pushes fake serial killer-lover against wall)

shoves you on the bed before getting on top of you

pushes you against a wall, hands cupping both sides of your face, forcing you to stay still as he kisses his way with you

grows aware that you need oxygen to breathe but he needs your kisses more than you need that

the first time you remove his glasses, he's surprised at how intimate that is, and how he falters at your touch. the first time you do it is also the first time he realizes that his emotions for you surpass lust and he might actually love you—whatever that entails

and when this does happen, he just gets so much more protective of you

and possessive

in public, hand always on your waist

kisses you (with tongue and lip biting) for the entire world and their mother to see

might even kiss you in front of morpheus to show off to his maker what he has and what morpheus doesn't

even with shades on, there's still intense eye contact

it's the way his entire body faces you

does this thing where he stands behind you, his chest warm and flush against your back. crooks a finger around your hair to brush it back, then hovers his lips right next to your ear so you can feel his whispers and it makes you shiver. he then presses a kiss to your neck, as if he's pleased with the reaction he's elicited from you

you know that couple thing where the boy will stand behind a girl and put his hands over hers as he teaches her how to play golf, or do billiards, or during pottery? that's him when teaching you the proper way to pop out an eyeball

his calloused hands wrapping over your soft hands around the hard handle of a knife

that same hand trailing up your arm, down the side of your chest, brushing your waist, then coming to a rest on your hip as he grips you slightly while bending you over

the protectiveness that grows after morpheus is freed, is also laced with a desperation to stay with you

on one hand, he holds out hope that he'll stop morpheus from taking him so he can stay with you. on the other hand, there's a feeling of inevitability and he can feel himself running out of time with you

he becomes softer but firmer with you

each kiss lasting longer than the last

starts to savour you. whispers his last prayers against your skin. draws his apologies on your arms

he stares at you more often, as if trying to commit your face to memory because if he is unmade, it could be centuries that have passed before he is made again. he doesn't know if he'll retain memories of you, but either way, you'll be long gone

and when the time comes that morpheus catches up to him and he is unmade, morpheus is able to feel the genuine love the corinthian had for you

because the corinthian didn't want you to stay with him, but him to stay with you

you become the corinthian's sole redeeming quality, and as you wail and plead against morpheus' coat to bring him back or to unmake you too, morpheus takes pity and grant your wish: which one is up to you to decide

𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗰𝗲 what else do you expect a serial killer nightmare to do for the person he loves? kill for them, of course. scaring others is what he was made for anyways

the first time you tell him someone's been giving you some trouble at school or at work, that someone ends up dead with their eyeballs taken out

the corinthian takes you out for dinner in a restaurant directly in front of that someone's apartment. as you eat dinner in front of a window, rather than be engrossed in the flickering candlelights, you focus on the blue and red lights of the police cars and hear the ambulance sirens as they load the dead body up to an ambulance that's heading straight to the morgue

happens every time you tell him about someone giving you trouble, even if it was just them cutting in line by accident. sometimes, he tells you what he did to them. other times, he doesn't

it's no problem to him, really. think of it as you packing him a little...snack

given that he bleeds charisma, parties are a regular occurrence for both of you

he makes you be his plus one to the parties he's invited to, and when you're invited to go to a party, he expects you to ask him to be your plus one as well

always has a hand around your waist during these events

kisses your cheek occasionally

if you're wearing lipstick and you leave a kiss mark against the bottom of his jaw, he won't wipe it away

might even intentionally move his head to the side to expose it, like it's a badge of honour

apart from killing others though, i don't think he'd go out of his way to do much else for you. at least, domestic things.

why would you need to cook if he can just hire a maid? folding laundry? maid. walking the dog? hires someone

but the one thing he always makes sure you do is eat (exhibit c: he asks jed if he wants more ice cream)

whether it's because you're so accepting of his diet or just because he puts a lot importance in eating, meals are the one thing he always looks out that you do correctly

and it's not just ensuring you eat three meals a day

but eating three healthy meals

he cooks for you—whatever you want. hell, he even learns to cook for you. it's the one thing he doesn't hire a maid for

you feed him, he feeds you mindset

always orders more of his meal because he knows you like to take some of his

unless you have a good, healthy reason for going on a diet, he won't entertain it

ice cream after dinner is a must

has your coffee order memorized, and you can trust him to order ahead at a restaurant

always drives you everywhere with a hand on your thigh that slowly creeps up

gives you his suit jacket when he's cold—and that's how you know it's true love

but the biggest act of service he does for you is not bring you to the cereal convention

it's not about not wanting to expose you to serial killers, but rather morpheus

though he hopes that he might walk out, on the event that he doesn't, he breaks his need to bring you everywhere and keep you at home

all so you don't see him be unmade, as he fears it will break you

and it would have

his last act of love to you

𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 have you seen the expensive suits he always wears? this man lavishes himself and his serial killer lifestyle, so he'll do the same for you

like his creator, this man is a giver. it might be one of the things morpheus put from himself in him

if he can dress in an expensive suit everyday all while maintaining its pristine state given his...lifestyle, then he expects the same from you too

introducing: matching outfits

you wouldn't think he's one for it, but he is. maybe not identical, but in a cool, stylish way that makes it clear the two of you are meant to be seen together and as one

suits or dresses that compliments his outfits

and it's not you matching to him, but the other way

he wants to match with you

he always waits for you to get ready and pick out an outfit first before going through his closet and finds a suit that matches

and jewellery

he strikes me as someone who wants to give his partner jewellery for them to wear—his way of marking them, so make sure to always wear one

necklace (choker), anklet, belt, hair accessory, ring

always watches you put it on. he likes its when he's the one putting it on, but falls to his knees (is his knees okay?) when you ask him to help you put it on

you need help putting your necklace on? turn around and he'll brush a finger down the nape of your neck, enjoying the way you shiver, as he clasps the necklace and places a kiss where the metal and your skin meets

might even leave a hickey

and if you wear socks or stockings, he'll drop to his knees (there he goes again) and slowly rolling the fabric up your legs, going higher and higher. kisses your inner things while he's there. his hands keeps climbing and climbing until his hand reaches your—

ahem.

black card user

"you want to go shopping? take my card, baby."

when the bill goes to his phone for what you bought, he sends you a text praising you for using it and says he can't wait to see you try it on

and if it's lingerie, he might ask for a photo and tell you to come home so he can see and take it off—

sets aside a trust for you

you get to take advantage of his lavish lifestyle. you don't really own a home, but instead live out for a few months at a time in various five star hotels before moving on

and if you do bring up settling down, he'll just smile at you and explain patiently why he can't settle down and why he wouldn't be able to bear being so far away from you for such long periods of time.

"i can't live that far from you, baby. can you live without me for that long?"

and how can you argue with that logic?

so you stay with him. and he gives you presents to praise your "choice"

yes, he loves to give you gifts. but more important, he wants you to love them

he likes seeing the special containers you put the jewellery he gifts you in and how you handle them so carefully, as if treating them as an extension of him and his love for you

and when you lose him, they are all that remains of him

and perhaps morpheus takes pity on you as he sees the genuine love you have for him

he uses his sand to recreate a better version of the corinthian using one of the objects he gave you

then maybe it's your turn to corrupt this new corinthian to change him back into the version you know and love

and that's okay

in conclusion, while i might not have been in love with mr. mouths-for-eyes, writing this headcanon and witnessing my eventual failure from keeping sfw might have changed my mind. he does, after all, have a very nice voice...

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗎𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇: 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁-𝖾𝗒𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈? 𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗈u𝗍𝗁𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌? 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌? 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽.

𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈, 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇'𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌'? 𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗂𝗅𝗌? 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇, 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖾, 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌' 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗐𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾. 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗒—

𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌: 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘶𝘴' 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @aurorarevenclaw1927, @juniebugg

#the corinthian #Corinthian #the sandman

2K notes · View notes

icedcoffeeinthevoid · 2 years ago

Text

Death of the Endless ⚱️

#death #sandman #death of the endless #🧷

8K notes · View notes

icedcoffeeinthevoid · 2 years ago

Text

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑠

⁰⁰⁰ DC M.LIST

✧ — PAIRING : morpheus/dream x f!reader

✧ — GENRE : fluff, bit of smut if you squint

✧ — WORD COUNT : 1.6k

✧ — CONTENT WARNING : soft dom, wholesome!morpheus, slight hair pulling, slow kisses (he's a gentle soul come on: stern at times, but soft to the core the same), possessiveness (did you see how he gets when others he deeply care about get hurt? I'm in tears), little plot twist at the end ehe

۝ — NOTE : I'm so so deeply in love with this man that I had to get myself out of my writer block and write something out of love for him. I really don't know it anyone will ever read this but he's the loml and I needed to get it out of my chest — SECOND PART, "LUSTFUL ASCENSION"

🏷️ : @munsonsins @lvlyone

That sheer power of his had always made you tingle. But tonight, it was even more daunting. Despite what everyone told you or the numberless times they tried to nudge you away from him, you just had to lay down in your bed and close your eyes to sense his presence beside your body. They never believed in him, but you did. And through perseverance, you were gifted the most precious treasure in the known universe. You held his heart right next to yours. He had gone by many names throughout centuries, but the ones he preferred to be called with when he was with you were “my love” and “sweet Morpheus”. In the moments of great passion the name “Oneiros” slipped through your lips, as well. If he’d ever been bothered by it, he never showed. It happened the same thing again just a moment ago, when you were caged in his arms as he oh-so softly kissed you. His touch was gentle, yet quite possessive at the same time and that was what pulled at your heartstrings the most. Morpheus wasn’t used to letting his guard down completely, not even with you. But for some reason he did tonight, and you found yourself smiling against his lips. «Am I amusing you, love-mine?» his voice echoed in the depth of your bones. Your smile increased even further at that, bringing your fingers to rest on either side of his gorgeous face. He really was that beautiful. All chiselled and sharp edges, the King of Dreams was a sight to see. And he basked in the calming aura surrounding you. Stars swam in your eyes whenever you looked up at him and so was your mind during your sleep. That was the time Morpheus was more fond of: getting to be one with you where he felt home. The Dreaming was his realm just as much as you were his safe space where he could be nothing more but a being in love with you. «Not in the way you might think» you replied and went to kiss the tip of his nose, «I was only trying to find the perfect adjective to describe you.» «Have you found it yet?» «Oh, I have.» «Which is?» His eyes somehow mirrored the warmth in yours as you straddled him. Yet that same nuance escaped him, replaced by the thicker veil of carnal desire and a little bit of annoyance, the kind you feel whenever your lover makes a lame joke. Which you do on a daily basis, by the way.

And tonight you made no exception.

«Dreamy. I feel so cosy around you that I just want to curl up against you and sleep the night away.» Morpheus stared into your soul for a solid minute without moving any muscle. You should’ve known better than playing with fire, for the tiniest shifts in his mood were visible through the eyes, not his body. You’ve seen the inhuman hue of his irises on many occasions, even though whenever it came to you it wasn’t because he was out for blood. However, the instant he knew how to respond to your silly remark, a shiver ran down your naked skin. By the time his smirk reached you, his fingers were already in your hair. He pulled at it just enough for him to have you closer, and for you to remember who you were talking to. He wasn’t the most outgoing person around, but he enjoyed being teased from time to time. Especially if it came from you.

«Very well, I’ll let this slide for once. I bet you and Death come up with this nonsense often.» Silken ropes of passion were entangled with these words whispered on your lips and a burning wave scorched your insides. He knew damn well the effect his voice had on you, and it worked like magic even more if you were naked in your bed. Usually he preferred to stay in the Dreaming, even if it meant for you to remember what you two did without fully reliving everything intensely. Oneiros was aware of this, so it happened that he surprised you by appearing in your room in a swirl of sand right in the middle of the night. Before your sleepy brain could grasp what was happening, he was already laying down on the bed, his chin resting on the top of your head as his voice lulled you back to sleep.

Oftentimes, your immortal lover indulges his most primal impulses and ends up without clothes on or under you.

«Her sense of humour is amazing. No wonder she’s the funny sibling at family gatherings.» «Yet it still escapes me why you hang out with her so much. Remind me again, please.» You scooted even closer to him and in doing so, your breasts caressed his chest. Such a teasing creature, you were. But tonight, Morpheus wasn’t fazed. He was patient, although a bit concerned about your care-free attitude towards his siblings. «That’s because she seems interested in knowing my soul’s real age, my love. Death claims it’s pretty old, yet she still can’t understand how I can still view everything so “romantically”. I should be used to this by now, yet here I am.»

According to many eternals, the world loses its prettiest colours once you’ve seen them over and over again. It doesn’t matter what shape or pattern they assume: shades are the same ones throughout aeons. Death disagreed on the matter, and so did Dream. Humans could still surprise them, including you. «You don’t let others’ opinion get under your skin, and that’s such a rare quality in humans nowadays. Also you’re kind, incredibly smart and so, so beautiful.» his nose bumped against yours when he pulled you in for a kiss. You responded immediately and your inner self lurched herself towards him with every passing second. His hands freed themselves from your hair only to descend down your back slowly, almost as if he was putting a spell on you by using his body only.

Truth was you’d been in love with him from the first moment you saw him in your dreams as he walked beside you down a marbled road. A raven flew in the lilac sky, and that day he wore a helmet and black clothes which reflected the sun rays' light. His subdued presence alone had you clattering your teeth, but nothing prepared you for the immense shock that rolled over you once he entered your life in the waking world. You still wondered how your persona managed to make such a powerful man feel enamoured with you. «You’re not so bad yourself, sweet Morpheus.» your lips wrapped around the small earring he wore on his left ear and placed a soft kiss there. It was always the easiest way to work him up. The man finally gave in and rolled you both over on the bed amidst your laughs and his low, almost inaudible chuckles. Yet there they were. «Come here, love-mine. Let me guide you through the Dreaming on Earth, then.» «You’re so bad at this after all this time, Oneiros. I feel sorry for you.» A sudden yelp left your lips at Dream’s slight pinch on your nipples. Your lover just nipped at you in retaliation and he liked it you thought with a shocked look on your face. «I’m afraid I couldn’t hear what you just said the first time. Would you repeat it for me, please?»

Oh.

Oh. «I said that you’re incredibly good at making jokes and I can't wait-» He couldn’t help himself. A heart-melting smile broke out of the faux cynical mask he had on, and the view took your breath away instantly. This time around it was you who pushed him flush against you to steal a kiss and relish in his firm touch on you. His hips snapping against yours betrayed his yearn for you and you tilted your head to the side and sighed in contentment. «Oneiros…» He hadn’t felt in such a way for centuries. Even if your memory failed you still, it wouldn’t last long. It never did, and the fact you just proved to him you knew one of his most sensitive spots without him telling you spoke volumes about it. Death was right about your soul: it was ancient. She couldn’t, however, determine how old you were. But Dream could. His knowledge of your essence was as vast as yours was of his, even if you didn’t remember everything yet. His sister was so intrigued by you because she couldn’t put her finger on one thing, and one thing only: your rebirth cycles. Ever since she came to be alongside her siblings, she’s never forgotten all the souls she accompanied in the afterlife. Yet, you were the only one who escaped her mind. She couldn’t know that every a hundred years, Dream would put your soul to sleep in his realm while your mortal flesh dissolved into thin air. He would watch over you until a new century began, and so you were sent back into the world free of your past love with Morpheus. He tried to give you a normal life, to love a mortal who’d grow old with you. But you always found a way to come back to him, whether it was through dreams or not. And so the story had been repeating itself since the first time he met you in the woods outside Apollo’s temple in Delphi, right where you were bathing naked under the full moon. Back in the day you were the High Priestess hence the secrecy of cleansing yourself far from prying eyes. Yet you had looked back at his wide ones right away, and he didn’t shy away in return. To stare at one of the Endless without crumbling in fear was an act of tremendous willpower. And you looked like the kind of woman who was prone to push his buttons at every given chance. Since that moment, your fates were entwined for eternity. No one could break it once it was sealed, not even the Fates themselves. Yet Morpheus couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to the whims of time, so he did what must’ve been done. He wasn’t going to feel that awful ache he felt the first and last time he almost lost you. The Lord of Dreams never feared anything except a nightmare’s unfolding: your disappearance from both worlds and him incapable of following you. So now he held you against his chest a little tighter than before, and you kissed his neck in response.

He just couldn’t let you go. How could he? You’d been lovers for almost five thousand years, after all. [TO BE CONTINUED...]

#the sandman #dream #morpheus

2K notes · View notes

icedcoffeeinthevoid · 2 years ago

Text

How to ruin a Dream Lord's proposal (and get away with it) (Morpheus x Reader)

Pairing: Morpheus x gender neutral!reader

Summary: Matthew finds out Morpheus plans to propose to you... on your first date. Given what happened to the last poor soul who said no when Dream popped the big question, Matthew and the others are understandably concerned for you. Because there's no way you'd wanna marry a guy you haven't even started dating yet, right?

Right??

Warnings: Morpheus is a menace when it comes to relationships (just ask Nada), reader is out of their goddamn mind, what Matthew has seen cannot be unseen (I'm being an idiot but you're safe guys, the only real warning is some suggestive stuff towards the end)

Word count: ~3K

A/n: This fic is kind of a sequel to these headcanons but makes sense on its own. It's also just an excuse for me to have a little fun with these characters, so please don't take it too seriously😅

Thank you @thegreatestsandwich and @layla2-49 for inspiring this crazy idea😘

***

"Guys, we have a bit of an emergency," Matthew announced, flying into the library and settling on the cluttered table. The conversation between Lucienne and Mervyn halted.

"What happened?" the librarian frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes and no. Depends. Well…"

"Well, get on with it," Mervyn crossed his arms when Matthew couldn't seem to articulate whatever had him so on edge. "Whatever it is, I'm sure Loosh can fix it."

"...yeah, not this one," Matthew said. "The boss is gonna take y/n to Fiddler's Green today and - caw! - he's gonna propose."

"Oh, dear," Lucienne sighed, putting down the book she was holding. Mervyn, on the other hand, shrugged.

"So? Good for him, they've been courting forever."

"No, they haven't," Matthew's voice rose in pitch. "Y/n doesn't even know he's in love with them!"

"Really? 'Cause they seem awfully close to me."

"Yes, but his Lordship has yet to make the full extent of his feelings known," Lucienne explained. She turned to Matthew, giving him a pointed look from behind her glasses. "He's changed considerably these past few years. I don't think y/n will end up being another Nada, but if they refuse, they should at least be warned to do it… gently."

"If? Of course they'll refuse!" Matthew burst out. "Who in their right mind would say yes to that on a first fucking-?"

"Say yes to what?"

Another caw! shot out of Matthew when he realized that shit, you were behind him. Probably having just fallen asleep and dreamed your way to the library, as you often did.

"H-Hi! Um, we were just… wow," he lost his trail of thought as he turned around as saw you. "You sure went to sleep in fancy wear tonight."

Usually, you ended up wearing the same clothes in your dreams as you did when you went to bed - at least since Morpheus had started allowing you to be lucid and visit his palace, rather than constantly drift in and out of random fantastic scenarios. So you'd gotten used to falling asleep in something a bit more street-appropriate than pyjamas. But tonight… yes, your bedtime routine had looked like getting ready for a night out rather than just going to sleep.

You felt a little bashful about it now that you were standing like that in front of Matthew, Lucienne and Mervyn.

"Actually, um… Lord Morpheus invited me to join him in Fiddler's Green tonight. And he was quite… formal about it, so… I don't know, I'm probably getting ahead of myself, but I'm pretty sure it's a date," you finished with a breathy chuckle, still unable to wrap your mind around the foreign idea. To be honest, you'd been a little fuzzy in the head ever since the Lord of Dreams had so gracefully extended the invitation, with a kind of rare eagerness dancing in his eyes that made you weak in the knees.

Your enthusiasm somewhat wavered, though, when you realized everyone was too busy staring at you uncomfortably to actually say something.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?" Self-conscious all of a sudden, you threw a glance downward at yourself. "Is it too much? Is it too little? Shit, it's too little, isn't it? I mean, he's the King of Dreams, I should have dressed for a royal ball or something-"

"No! No, y/n, you…" Lucienne finally spoke. She moved a bit closer to you, her tense expression allowing for a warm smile. "You look gorgeous, dear. We're only a little concerned that… You see, his Lordship can get a little carried away when it comes to such matters. We thought it best to prepare you in case he might be a bit too… forward in his declarations."

"Forward as in…?"

"He's gonna ask you to marry him," Matthew blurted out.

You blinked at him. Slowly.

"... what? How-how do you…? Did he say that?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?" you insisted.

"Word for word."

Your mind kind of just… took a quick sabbatical.

"I know, it's nuts," Matthew went on over your stunned silence. "I mean, you'd think he'd know better than to pop the big question on the first date, but you know what he's like. We couldn't just let you get blind-sided like that, especially 'cause… well, he doesn't take rejection too well. I mean, I know you have feelings for him and all that, but you still gotta be careful how you break it to him that you're not ready for all that other stuff just yet- Hey, where you going? Y/n?"

He didn't get an answer, because you'd already turned on your heel and were rushing out of the library. Not long after, the door slammed shut behind you.

Lucienne sighed sympathetically. "Poor thing. You could have been a bit more gentle delivering the news, Matthew."

If he still had nails, Matthew would have been biting them nervously. "Guys… you don't think they ran away for good, do you?"

"Don't just stand there, fly after them and get them to come back!" Mervyn snapped. "You think his Lordship is in a foul mood when he gets rejected? Wait till he gets stood up."

And you're the one responsible for it.

The terrifying thought was enough for Matthew to spread his wings and shoot off the table to find you.

***

Distances were tricky in the Dreaming. It seemed that the more eager you were to reach a certain place, the closer it felt - or was. There wasn't much difference between the two in dreams.

So, it didn't exactly surprise Matthew that when he found you, you were already where you wanted to be. What did make him raise a non-existent eyebrow, though, was the fact that that place was Fiddler's Green.

Aka where Lord Morpheus was currently sprinkling sand on the field, ensuring that even more of the wonderfully-scented flowers bloomed in its wake as he awaited your arrival. While sunlight had been pouring into the library through the high, stained-glass windows, Fiddler's Green was bathed in the silver glow of a starlit sky. The Dream Lord sure wasn't sparing any efforts to set the scene.

Too bad you were about to burst his bubble, judging by the rigid look on your face as you walked up to him.

"My Lord."

"Oh, shit," Matthew muttered under his breath as he landed on a nearby tree branch, praying to God that the leaves would be enough to shield him from his boss's sight.

Not that Morpheus was prone to notice, at the moment. All his attention was drawn to you, a hint of pleasant surprise at the corner of his lips.

"Y/n. I wasn't expecting you so early-"

"I know why you asked me to come here," you cut him off curtly.

Matthew could practically hear the sound of a scratching record as Morpheus's expression turned rigid.

"Do you now?"

"Yeah. Matthew told me."

"And just what exactly did he tell you?"

Matthew gulped at the tick in his boss's jaw. And the icy tone of voice that basically guaranteed he was in deep shit, of course.

"That you're gonna ask me to marry you. Is that true?"

For crying out loud, you sounded like you were interrogating him. As terrified as he was, Matthew braced himself for the possibility that he might have to swoop in and fall on the sword of Dream's wrath himself, should things take a turn for the worse.

It clearly took some effort for Morpheus to contain his rising anger. But, it was thankfully not directed at you, and he managed a carefully contained tone of voice.

"It was not his place to mention that, but yes. It was my intention. It is," he added a bit more softly.

For a moment, you were silent, your eyes dropping to your hands.

"He also said you're batshit crazy for doing it before we've even… you know. Dated," you went on. There was a slight waver in your voice now, probably the reason why you were more quiet than before. "Well, he didn't say it but I could tell he was thinking it."

Welp, Matthew thought. That should get him a one way ticket to the Darkness, alright.

"And, I mean, he's not wrong," you went on, raising your gaze back to Morpheus with a small scoff. "That's so… impulsive and forward and just... inappropriate, if I'm being honest. At least by human standards in this day and age."

Damn. Had you been in a duel like the one Matthew had witnessed between Dream and Lucifer, that would have been the killing blow. Not that Morpheus showed it. It wasn't hurt in his eyes as he fixed you with an unwavering stare - it was simply hard and unreadable, betraying nothing except perhaps a sense of indignation.

"I see," he rasped out. "Then I suppose I should take my leave of you before I cause you any more distress."

That was... sad, but better than what Matthew had been worried about. Morpheus was about to pass you by in long, angry strides when you rushed to stand in his way.

"No, you don't get to just put me in a position like that and leave." His annoyance was palpable, but he reluctantly stopped. "I mean… do you realize what I'm dealing with right now? Because you went and told Matthew before me, I know exactly how you feel on the subject. And now that I do, I have to do this crazy, nerve-wrecking thing that makes me wanna pass out just thinking about it. Because…"

You took a step towards him. Reached for his hand, but changed your mind last minute with a slight shake of your head. Then took a calming breath and looked up into his eyes, which were now watching you with a spark of curiosity that was almost enough to melt the ice, your voice barely above a murmur as a nervous smile kept threatening to tug at your lips.

"... how can I possibly not take this opportunity to be able to say that I, y/n y/l/n, a mere human… asked the Dream of the Endless himself to marry me… and he said yes?"

CAW!

(Or, in translation from bird speak, what the actual fu-!)

Matthew nearly fell off the branch. The screeching sound had just escaped his throat of its own accord.

At this point, he couldn't even give a feather that you had flinched and were now glaring up at the source of the noise, clearly having found him out.

Morpheus, on the other hand, barely batted an eye. You were the sole object of his attention as he invaded your space in one, painfully slow step. Your eyes were drawn back to his, so close you could practically drown in the endless depths of his blue irises. His voice was deeper than you'd ever heard it, and as cruelly soft as the paws of a cat playing with its prey.

"And you, y/n y/l/n, a 'mere human'," he articulated each word slowly, meticulously, "would dare ask one such as I to wed you…"

The very air held its breath.

"...without a ring?"

If Matthew had a nickel for every time a marriage proposal nearly plot twisted him into a heart attack, he'd have two nickels. Which wasn't much, but it was weird it happened twice. In a row.

As for you - God, you felt like pouncing on Morpheus and melting into a puddle at the same time. You somehow managed to contain all that into a thoughtful little smile.

"Well…"

It was a long shot, but you wouldn't back out now for the world. Slowly, still holding his gaze, you reached inside the pocket of his coat with fingers that, to your surprise, were only lightly trembling. Shit, it might be in another one. Or not there at all. Maybe he planned on conjuring it out of thin air for the effect. It would be so easy to make a fool of yourself now-

There.

You found an object with what felt like corners and edges, and retrieved it from his pocket. It was only then that you looked away from Morpheus, and down at what you were now holding in your hands. Your heart threatened to dive out of your chest and straight into the little black box as you carefully opened it.

The one thing around you more beautiful than the ring inside was Morpheus himself. The jewel was discreet and elegant, a silver band with a small but gorgeous ruby. Apparently, he'd never lost his taste for that particular gem. The light reflected off its facets with an ethereal glow, and you just knew there was some magic tethered to it. A part of Morpheus himself.

What was it doing in your hands again? Oh-

"Found one."

It was far too breathless for the playful quip you intended it to be, but it earned you a cheeky lift in the corner of Morpheus's lips just the same.

"You stole one."

"You let me."

"Well, are you going to use it?" he challenged.

And you weren't one to back down, no matter how furiously your heart was rattling in your chest. But you were more than willing to get down.

On one knee.

"Dream of the Endless, King of-"

He was on you like a lion before your knee even fully touched the ground. You yelped as you fell flat on your back into the soft grass below, his hands seizing your face and his lips coming down upon yours as he pinned you beneath him. His slender figure was hard and deliciously unyielding against yours, thinly veiled hunger fueling his ardent kiss. It was a miracle your fingers somehow remained clenched around the precious ring box while you threw your arms around his neck to pull him closer, dizzy with the taste of his tongue mapping your mouth. Only when he was satisfied he had learned every inch of it as well as he knew his own palace did he release your lips.

"A ruler does not kneel in their own realm," he informed you with a satiated smirk.

He had to call you that, didn't he? As if your breath hadn't completely left you already.

"Not even to my king?" you managed to ask dreamily. Morpheus leaned into your ear.

"Only in the intimacy of our chambers."

You trembled as he gave your earlobe a gentle bite.

"S-so… should I take that as a-"

"Yes," he finally declared, pulling back to look straight into your eyes as he did. "If you'll have me."

You grinned. "That's all I want."

And you were kissing again, through your joyous laughter and that rare smile of his you felt against your lips. There was still the ring in your hand, but you simply couldn't be bothered to figure out who should put it on whose finger at this point. You let it drop as gently as you could manage to the ground, then finally got to tangle your fingers in Morpheus's pitch black hair like you've been dying to for ages. His mouth left yours to draw a sensuous trail down your jaw, kissing his way down to your neck-

…and you remembered you probably weren't alone.

"You can stop spying now, Matthew," you called out to the trees.

In poor Matthew's defence, it wasn't like he wanted to keep watching. The turn of events had just kind of… broken his mind a little, and he needed a bit of time to figure out how to rub his temples without thumbs. He hadn't recovered quite enough to trust his wings to function yet.

Morpheus begrudgingly broke away from your neck enough to raise his voice, "Unless you'd like a preview of the wedding night."

The sound of rustling leaves where Matthew shot past them followed so fast.

Still, your eyes snapped to your now-fiancee in shock.

"Morpheus! What happened to the 'intimacy of our chambers'?"

"He deserved to squirm a little. He messed with my proposal." He pretended to ponder something. "In fact, so did you."

"So? You gonna make me squirm, too?"

"Far worse than that."

Thankfully, Matthew was much too far up to hear the sounds that followed.

"I don't get paid enough for this," he muttered to himself. "I don't get paid at all."

"At least you get to fly away," the disembodied voice of Fiddler's Green grumbled on a breeze.

And fly away Matthew did. Far, far away.

***

*Cue post-credits scene*

"... and then y/n asked him to marry them!"

Lucienne nearly dropped the book she was holding. Meanwhile, Mervyn slapped his knee in disappointment.

"Ugh, I told you we should have gone with him, Loosh. Now I'll never get to see the look on boss's face."

"It's none of our business, Merv," she said, regaining her composure like the disciplined librarian she was. She stood from the table to put a few books back on the shelf. "I'm just glad their Majesties are finally happy."

"Whoa, there, easy on the titles. We don't even know if he said yes." Mervyn chuckled. "Ha! Never thought I'd say that."

"Oh, he did. Much more enthusiastically than I ever wanted to see," Matthew informed him, fighting the urge to gag. "I'm never spying on either of them again."

Sensible as ever, Lucienne insisted, "Like I said - none of our business. Now, I suggest we all go back to work. It seems we'll be busy with wedding preparations on top of our usual duties soon enough."

With that, she scooped another couple of books from the table and disappeared with them behind the shelves.

The silence only lasted a few seconds before Mervyn broke it in a hushed tone.

"So… who ended up wearing the ring?"

Matthew scoffed as quietly. "I doubt they're wearing anything right now."

"None. Of our. Business!"

***

A/n: Thank you for reading! Again, this was meant to be sort of a crackfic so don't be too hard on me pls😅 If you enjoyed please leave a comment or reblog, those are the love of my life (after Morpheus ofc)

Masterlist

If you'd like to be notified whenever I post fics, please follow my sideblog @full-time-make-believer-fics and turn on notifications!❤️

#sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman #sandman #morpheus #🧸

4K notes · View notes

icedcoffeeinthevoid · 2 years ago

Text

he feeds pigeons

#the sandman #morpheus #sandman #🧷

205 notes · View notes

icedcoffeeinthevoid · 2 years ago

Text

Hope you have your bodies ready for the Watch Party today! ✨ A younger Murphy (with Jessamy) welcomes you to The Dreaming.

#the sandman #morpheus #sandman #🧷

62 notes · View notes

icedcoffeeinthevoid · 2 years ago

Note

hi! I love your works sm do you accept requests? if yes, then can I request a morpheus x y/n where the reader gets jealous over dream's past lovers?

my eclipsed sun

summary; a chance encounter with your lover’s sibling leaves you full of doubt. you are utterly broken down; and morpheus knows exactly why.

morpheus x gn!reader, perhaps overtly angsty, maybe influenced by taylor swift, no tw’s needed (i think?), established relationship, human reader, tw desire and dream sibling beef as always

masterlist

It wasn’t often that Morpheus willingly departed his beloved realm.

After the incident with Burgess, he preferred to spend time within the Dreaming, perhaps as compensation. Years of his absence had left his world a crumbling carcass of what it once was. Yet, he was not simply a man who could tend to his rose garden whenever he willed. He was an Endless; beyond a deity, beyond a mere mortal. And, as said, great power requires great responsibility. Being Lord of Dreams meant keeping balance with the rest of his siblings.

When Desire called, for reasons unbeknownst to even Morpheus, it was as if someone had cast a dark cloud around the Dreaming. The realm suffered little, but its ruler seemed to be suffering with a torment not even Lucienne could diagnose. Morpheus became distant for the weeks leading up to the anticipated meeting with his sibling; it was as if nightmares had finally infiltrated his own mind.

It was you who had convinced him to attend to his sibling, for you knew far too much of the rift that develops between them. Your own brother had been effectively silent, and each day that passed left you wondering what could have been. To your surprise, he had requested you accompany him.

It wasn’t that you doubted Morpheus held affection for you. It was that he was never expressive with it. There were times, of course there were times, where you were sure of it. When you felt the tenderness in his voice, the imperceptible glimmer in his eye when he gazed at you.

And even now, as you both sit in Desire’s glossy abode, you’re only aware of the firm, yet barely noticeable, grip he has on your hand. You’re at a table, or perhaps what could be describe as one. The entirety of this realm seems abstract to the untrained eye of mortals. No doubt there is a system to be seen here; but it was not one your mind could comprehend.

The air is thick. There’s an uneasiness that has settled in your bones since you arrived, and you aren’t quite sure if it’s you, or the air around Desire. Whatever it is, the entity is entirely comfortable, preferring to practically float around the room. You and your lover, on the other hand, are perhaps the only firm things in here, cemented to the spot you were directed to upon arrival. It’s a long time before anyone speaks.

“Brother, dearest. Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

You’re startled. Desire’s voice is pure velvet, draping itself around you. Whatever discomfort you felt previously has been replaced with what you can only describe as pure honey; melting, manipulating itself into your bones, soothing your blood and nerves with sticky-sweet comfort. You don’t even have to look to your left to know that Morpheus’ jaw has tightened; the briefest of squeezes on your hand tells you enough. Sometimes it surprises you, how well you know him. It is as if your entire being was made for him, only.

He introduces you to each other. You can’t miss the way Morpheus speaks your name, tumbling from his tongue, birthing you into a new life with a mere mention. Perhaps it’s because you’re in the presence of literal desire personified, or because you feel so deeply, but your heart swells with unspoken fondness. Attachment, maybe. Whatever it is, whatever the reason, you can tell Desire has picked up on it, the way the Endless’ face grows ripe with joy, and perhaps a flicker of something else. You don’t realise the motive until later, when your lover has been called to attend an important matter. You stay in the vinyl-red room.

Far too occupied with the interior, you almost don’t notice the silky presence beside you until a a soft hand reaches for your face. Caught off guard, you reel back slightly, only to calm as you gaze into Desire’s golden eyes.

“It’s been a while since I’ve met any of my brother’s lovers,” Desire purrs, one hand cupping your face. The uneasy feeling has returned to you; but coupled with the honeyed aura of the entity in front of you, nausea begins to brew in the pit of your stomach.

“Lovers?” You question. It’s a futile one. Of course he’s had other lovers; haven’t you? But he’s never spoken of them. Never divulged any information beyond what he feels for you. Suddenly, you feel incredibly small.

There’s an almost-grin on Desire’s face. Almost, because the only other discernible emotion you can see is pity. You’d been warned, by Morpheus, of his sibling’s shifty nature. But this, to you, seems genuine, cemented only by the comforting hand that Desire rests on your own. “Oh, he’s had many lovers, darling. You’re not the first. You won’t be the last.”

It’s said so matter-of-factly. There will be others. There will be other loves, as the rides will turn, as night will turn to day, and then night again.

You’ve never been a person who cries. Not in front of people, at least. But you can feel the lump in your throat, something that never settles even as you leave this place. Even Desire’s eyes are burned into your mind; golden, pooling with pity, perhaps not out of genuine empathy but born from a regard for your naive humanity.

Oh, you hate it.

You hate that you still dwell on these words for weeks after. Morpheus returns to some semblance of visible joy; you, though, stay stuck in a dark rut. Everything you do is done half-heartedly. Each book you put back in Lucienne’s presence juts out from the bookshelf. Matthew notices your despondency as he informs you of the waking world. You lay in bed most days, or look out of the balcony. Despondent.

Distant.

The only thing you find some enthusiasm in is Morpheus past. Whenever you aren’t caught up in your own thoughts, you’re utterly obsessed with finding out his. Desire had mentioned a few names, before you left; and those names now become your purpose. Calliope, Nada…countless others, sprawled across pages, burned into your memory. Queens and goddesses, lords and beings not even comprehensible by human logic.

You aren’t sure entirely what it is that has defiled your thoughts. Have Desire’s doubts truly permeated your mind? Oh he’s had many lovers, darling. You’re not the first. You won’t be the last.

It’s true, you realise, sorrowfully. Mankind only lives for so long; lifespans so short, in fact, that they seemed only a blink of an eye to the Endless. Bitterly, you smile. Love, indeed. What love was it for him, to last a few years?

You aren’t clueless. Morpheus is a deity; no, more than that. He is beyond fathomable concepts, and ideas, and beliefs. He is more than a mere man. Here is a being who has loved muses, and goddesses, and inhumans before you. And there you are, a mortal. Insignificant, unworthy…irrelevant.

That is exactly how he finds you, later; on the balcony of your shared room, hands planted on either side of you, overlooking the realm. You can feel his presence, of course you can. You’d know him anywhere. You’d thank every atom that shared his presence, if you could. But you don’t turn around. You can’t bear to.

It’s almost as if he can hear the torment inside your mind. Tenderly, he reaches a hand out to you, fingers curled to brush your face. But you cannot bear to be around him. You cannot bear to feel this touch. There is more than just insecurity inside you; your insides are burning with jealousy. You simply cannot bear the thought of any other soul, living or dead, touching him the way you have, knowing his lips like you do, feeling him as you do. Your jaw tightens.

“I’d like to be alone right now, Lord,” the words tumble from your lips. But there is a cool air in your tone that surprises even you; and your lover, too.

He doesn’t speak yet, only comes to your side. His eyes are burning a hole into the side of your face, you can feel it, but you do not relent. Your gaze is planted firmly on whatever you can see in front of you.

“Why?” He asks. It almost sounds like a plea. What would he plead from you, you think? What would he require? What could you give him?

Silence settles around you, cooling into a thick wall. He makes another effort to reach for you, but once again, you back away. Morpheus settles for resting his hand next to yours. He isn’t touching you, but you can feel every movement he makes; he’s that close. Every atom in your body begs to relent, to have mercy on yourself, to touch him. And perhaps it is your pride, that fatal flaw of humanity, that forbids you from it. The other fatal flaw of humans; forgetfulness. He may be King of Dreams and Nightmares - but where do they dwell? The subconscious. And, because you are human, because you forget, he finds himself slipping into your mind. He never intended to. But there has always been something about you that has drawn him in. From your first meeting, you had the Dream Lord utterly under your spell. It was your complete authenticity, your vitality, that drew him to you. You were so unlike any other human, no, being, that he had met; so full of human joy and kindness, but there was an air about you that seemed almost brilliantly…alien.

The Lord of Revelations has an unpleasant one when he enters your mind. He is filled with despair, instantly. Had you truly been so blind to his affections for you? Or perhaps had he been blind to your sorrow? All these names, all his past lovers. He had kept them quiet, perhaps out of his own pride too, but because they were in the past. You were his present, and he hoped, his future. Morpheus had learned not to dwell on the past in these past years trapped. But avoidance is not acceptance. Full of regret, he turns to you. You weren’t like the others. He loved them, as he did you, that was undeniable. But you were his present, and he could not watch you slip through his fingers too.

“My love,” he begins. There’s a fresh softness in his voice that you’ve never heard before. It’s like a summer breeze. It’s unbearable.

You turn to him, gaze staying on the horizon.

“Look at me, my love,” he pleads, the smallest of wavers in his voice. Your eyes swell with tears; reluctantly, you turn to him.

You understand why people find inspiration in dreams clearly now. In the light of this dying sun, he looks utterly, tragically, beautiful. The setting rays gleam on his pale skin, shining like soft dawn snow. He looks perfectly composed, but the faintest red rim around his eyes tells you everything. He’s sorry.

“Morpheus,” your voice comes out as a whisper. But the mere mention of his name from your lips gives him hope.

He speaks. “I have been neglectful of you. I have forgotten that you are mortal. My sentiments are perhaps too cold.”

Your heart sinks. “That…That’s the problem.”

He furrows his brows. You continue, the pressure building in your chest, threatening to burst.

“I am mortal. I’m not like you. I’m not a god, a royal, I’m…I am painfully human, Morpheus. Don’t you understand? It’s never been just me. It’ll never be just me. Do you know how painful it is to love someone who has loved so many times? To know that one day I’ll die, and you’ll find someone else? That I’ll never be the la-”

The words stay unfinished, because in an instant, Morpheus pulls you close to him. You can feel the faint beating of your own heart. The sound of your soft sobs become more prominent as the tears flow freely, into his chest. A part of you screams that you shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be crying into his chest; but the stronger part of you wonders what you should be doing anyway. And despite it all, despite the despair, it feels so good to sob into him, to be held in his arms, to feel his hands cradling your head.

“Your humanity never bothered me, nor was it a factor.”

His quiet voice fills itself into your being, sapping away your sadness every moment he speaks.

“Do you really think me so vain, that I would only love a status? Y/n,” he breaks away to look at you, hands cupping your face, “Not for a moment have I compared you to anyone in my past. They are my past. You are now. You are what keeps me here.”

You swallow thickly. He continues. “I would never forget you, even in death. Do you think so little of the love I bear you, that I would simply carry on? You destroy me with each tear. You are my death.”

“Don’t say that,” you mutter weakly, your hands desperately trying to find his own. Any cold air you had for him is gone. You just want your lover.

“It is true. You are my undoing. I…For once, I fear I may not have the words to describe the enormity of what I truly feel for you.”

It’s enough. His words are enough. The faintest rays of sun smoke through, dimly illuminating the balcony the two of you stand on. And it’s enough. The conviction with which Morpheus speaks is telling. You lean into him, pressing into his neck, arms encircling each other.

“I’m sorry, too,” you whisper into his ear. You feel him shake his head.

“There is nothing to apologise for.”

There’s a soft silence between the two of you, perhaps making up for weeks worth of distance. You’ve never thought much of comfortable silence, until now; and you’re grateful that the two of you can just enjoy each other’s presence, because words might fail you.

“What brought this on you?” Your lover wonders aloud. His voice vibrates in his throat, and you smile softly at its depth. How you missed this voice.

“It’s nothing. Just something Desire said when we were leaving. I’m sure your sibling didn’t mean it like that…I think I just have a tendency to let these things get into my head…”

You continue talking, but you’re unaware of the way Morpheus’ jaw tightens as you do. Desire…so once again, his siblings were interfering in his affairs.

“Me and mine…” He trails off, and you tilt your eyes up to look at him, cocking your head to the side.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, my love.”

He leans down to press a soft kiss on your mouth. It’s more than tender, this time. His kiss is soft, yes, but there’s a desperation behind it, something you can perhaps describe as purely restrained rage. When you pull away, there’s a fire in his eyes that both terrifies and excites you.

You’ve missed him. You’ve missed this. Hungrily, you pull his head down for another kiss, fingers twisting themselves between his dark hair.

What you can’t miss, however, is the honeyed spark of desire that fills the air as he carries you to the bed.

——

end.

——

tag list!

( please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works via comments!)

@stygianoir @liv-n @whovian378 @ultimatreality

a/n ; for some reason i can never quite be satisfied with this, no matter how many times i rewrite. please let me know your thoughts! i am so grateful for every piece of feedback i receive!

#the sandman #morpheus #⚔️#good lord

2K notes · View notes