#take it from me: that dream of a perfect relationship- a perfect job- whatever your fantasy is | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dream-a-little-bigger-x · 1 year ago

Text

Maybe We'll Take Some Time | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and Reader broke up five weeks ago. When he comes knocking on her door, crying about a friend's death, their love is resparked.

Warnings: Emily's death, canon murder, SMUT, MDNI 18+!!

Author's note: Reader going from ME to nurse doesn't make sense, but let's ignore that and pretend it's possible, all right? Thanks.

Words: 5.4K

It had been five weeks.

Five weeks since Spencer and y/n had broken up. It had been a mutual decision to call it quits. Neither one of their jobs allowed them to maintain a healthy relationship. For either one of them to be happy, they had no other choice but to let each other go.

The two had met on the job. While Spencer was a prolific profiler with the FBI, y/n was a medical examiner. During a local case in Virginia, y/n was examining the corpse of a young woman who had fallen victim to a guy the FBI was trying to catch.

Spencer was gobsmacked at how y/n sounded almost excited about the things she found on the body. She found fascinating things, which ultimately led to the perfect victim profile. It had been the way y/n was so confident about what she had established, the way her eyes lit up with every aspect of the exam.

However, he never asked her out. He figured they were on the job and needed to be professional. Besides, the chances of them seeing each other again were so slim, he thought.

But he was proven wrong when the two of them kept bumping into one another. At the coffee shop, at the library, during another case. It was only when y/n moved from being a Medical Examiner to working at the hospital and she was his doctor when he got shot in the knee, that he finally decided to test his luck.

“Well, once you’re back on your feet…” she handed him a card, “Call me.”

It wasn’t until a few weeks later when she finally got the call. The two went out for coffee together and had the best time ever. They would talk about whatever came up and y/n allowed Spencer to ramble on about his favorite subjects. After three dates, y/n finally decided she’d had enough of waiting for him to make the first move and kissed him first instead.

Their relationship was loving and fun until all they were doing was fight about how little they saw each other. Near the end, their fights became petty and about the lousiest of things. After nearly a year of dating, they finally decided to call it quits.

Y/N often found herself thinking about him, but never did she allow herself to call him. Even if she had to fight the urge to do so. It was better for the both of them if they weren’t in each other’s lives for a while.

One night, y/n was rereading “Something Wicked This Way Comes” by Ray Bradbry, a book she had read multiple times with Spencer. One that reminded her of him. She was missing him a little more than usual this time, especially with how the rain was pelting against the windows. It was a very typical autumn night, one they would usually spend together, curled up on the couch with books in their laps.

She was nearly halfway through the book when her doorbell rang. Her brows furrowed as she got up, confused about who could be at her door. It wasn’t like she was expecting someone. After patting her cat’s head, she moved over towards the intercom.

Pushing the button, she said, “Hello-o?” with that little lilt in her voice he loved so much.

“Y/N… It’s me…”

Her world started spinning. It almost felt like she was dreaming. How could it be possible that on the night she missed him the most, he somehow ended up ringing her doorbell? Of course he did. It wasn’t a surprise that even after five weeks apart, they still had the connection.

“Spencer –” she puffed out some air. “Come on up.”

She pressed the buzzer to let him up. A tingle frazzled her stomach as she awaited his arrival. Suddenly, her mind started racing. She didn’t know why he was there, all she did know was that her apartment was a mess and now he was going to come up and see how much of a mess her life is now that he wasn’t in it anymore.

As quickly as she could, she rummaged through her stuff, trying to put as much away as she could before the soft knock on her door stopped her. With trembling hands, she turned the doorknob. Before her appeared the one man she had come to love a little over a year ago. His hair was much shorter than it was the last time she’d seen him.

“Hi–” she wanted to greet, but stopped when she saw the look on his face.

His eyes were glazed with tears, his bottom lip quivering. “She–” he tried his voice, but as soon as it betrayed him with a crack, he stopped himself, coughed and tried again. “She’s dead…” As soon as the words left his mouth, he broke down.

Unsure of what to do, y/n allowed Spencer to fall into her arms where he sobbed violently. Her heart broke at the feeling of this ball of mess breaking against her chest. With one hand, she shut her front door before guiding Spencer towards the couch.

For a while, she let Spencer cry. His head laid on her chest while his body was wedged between her legs. Her hands were tangled up in his shorter locks, scratching his scalp soothingly. The exact same way they often cuddled after a particularly bad case that had Spencer shaking. She knew this would calm him down quicker than anything else.

“What happened, angel?” she asked in a whisper, her lips pressed against his head in a kiss.

Spencer wasn’t ready to talk yet and she didn’t press him to do so. Instead, she kept holding him and kissing his head and soothing his sobs until he was finally ready to do so.

Wiping his tears, Spencer sat up straight again and y/n followed his example. She tucked her legs underneath her bum, giving him a little more space though he scooted closer as soon as he felt the lack of her presence. His fingers nervously plucked at a loose thread on her sweatpants.

“It’s Emily,” he whispered, then sniffled. “She, uhm… She… She died.” His brows furrowed as though he was still confused about the facts. His eyes landed on her face, noticing how her eyes had filled with tears at the news.

“What?” The word came out in a whisper, her voice not able to handle anything louder.

She reached for his hand on her knee and squeezed. He recounted the events, not leaving anything out. After a good year with him and working the job she did, y/n wasn’t shy of any gory details. By the time he was at the end of the story, the two of them had been reduced to tears. The two of them just sat on the couch, holding hands and crying.

“I came straight here after the hospital,” he admitted. “I-I didn’t really wanna go home and I–you–” He wasn’t sure how to end that sentence, but y/n understood him. Y/N always understood him.

She entwined their fingers and squeezed reassuringly. “It’s okay, Spence. Do you want anything? Tea? Some food?” she asked and brushed a strand of his hair out of his face. When they were dating, she was always able to tuck a strand behind his ear, but with his shorter hair, that wasn’t possible anymore. “I bet you’re hungry.”

“Uh, yeah… Actually,” he offered her a tender smile.

Disentangling their hands, she patted his before getting up and walking to the kitchen. She heated up some leftover mac-and-cheese and filled up two cups with water. Once the pasta was warm, she took everything with her to the living room where Spencer was cuddling Mr. Gilbert, her cat.

The two of them shared the bowl of pasta while chatting about how life had been treating them in the time they had separated. It was an amicable conversation that easily lapsed into stories about Emily. Y/N had spent some time with the team, too, so she knew Emily. The few times they had seen each other, they did get along very well.

It got late. The two of them got too wrapped up in pleasant conversation that neither realized how late it was until Spencer fell asleep with his head in her lap. Soon enough, y/n herself fell prey to sleep.

“Y/N.” At first, she thought she was dreaming, Spencer voice interlacing with her subconscious because she missed him. “Y/N.” The soft touch on her shoulder caused her mind to wake up before her eyes fluttered open as well.

“Spence–”

Everything that had happened last night filtered back into her brain. Spencer knocking on her door, crying, Emily dead, … All of it came back in flashes, reminding her of what he was doing in her place.

“I-I’m gonna go home. I fell asleep, I’m so sorry,” Spencer muttered and as she watched him gather his discarded Converse, the pelting rain outside registered in her mind.

“No,” she muttered and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes while getting up from the couch. “No, you’re not gonna go home through weather like this, Spence.”

A sigh heaved his chest. “Y/N–”

“Spencer, please, just stay. I really don’t mind…” She looked into his eyes, trying to figure out what that genius brain of his was thinking. “You can sleep on the couch, if you’re not comfortable sharing a bed anymore. Or you can quit being stubborn and come to bed with me.”

A flash of recognition appeared in his eyes before he simply dropped his shoes again. With a smile, y/n reached out her hand for him to take, which he did, gladly so. Y/N handed him one of the many college shirts she had stolen and kept from him, earning a knowing glare from the boy. He stripped down to his underwear and chucked the shirt on before crawling into bed with her.

As if on automatic pilot, the two of them drifted towards each other, limbs tangling together and her head finding its rightful spot on his chest. While the fingers of her right hand toyed with his short curls – she still couldn’t get over the fact he had cut his hair –, his hands found their spot on her lower back and her right upper arm.

“Thank you,” he whispered, exhaling contently.

Ten weeks.

For ten weeks, Spencer came up to her apartment, crying on her shoulder every night because he missed Emily so much. She let him. She let him cry and sometimes, she cried with him. Every night, she’d make them dinner and they’d cry and fall asleep watching a movie together once they were all cried out.

When he didn’t show up to her place one night around week ten, she’d grown worried.

There was no way he would just skip out on dinner, suddenly feeling up for taking care of himself. Not without calling or texting first, at least.

So, with worry pooling in her stomach, she picked up her phone and called him. When that went straight to voicemail, she tried again. And again. And again. After ten failed tries, she grabbed her keys and drove off to his place.

She was lucky that one of his neighbors just left, so she could sneak in and rush up the stairs to apartment #23. Her heart was beating in her throat, worried about how she would find him. She knew about his struggles and his trauma. She knew about the addiction to dilaudid. And worst of all, she knew him. Whenever he’d pull away from his friends, from her, especially when something like this had happened, he would find his way back to the drug a little too easily.

“Spence?!” she called out whilst knocking on his door. “Spencer, come on, baby, please!” She could hear the rustling behind the door. She knew he was in. “Let me in…”

For five seconds, she fell silent, trying to weigh her options. She could wait here until he finally opened the door, or she could just kick it down. She’d seen Derek do it, surely she could attempt it too. Images of her trying to kick down the door flashed before her eyes. None of them ended very well. So, instead, she resorted to pounding the door instead. Surely, that would get his attention.

“Spencer Reid! Open this door right now!” she yelled, a little too obnoxiously.

Suddenly, the door opened just a smidge and Spencer’s head popped out. “Y/N,” he stated, matter-of-factly. “Stop making so much noise. Go home. I’m not up for any company tonight.”

His eyes were blood-shot, the same way they always were when he had been crying. His usually softly curled hair was an absolute mess, sticking out on the sides. To y/n, that just meant that he’d been tugging at it in frustration. Aside from the physical signs, there was also the pushing away. A sure sign that he was, in fact, struggling, and that he needed someone.

That he needed her.

Spencer went to close the door, but before it could fall shut, y/n stopped it, placing her flat hand on the wood with all her might. “You are not getting rid of me that easily, Reid,” she grumbled before pushing herself through into his apartment, much to Spencer’s dismay.

Protests flew off his lips as soon as she started looking around for any evidence that he had, in fact, taken the dilaudid. At first, she thought he was clear, but then her eyes fell on Spencer himself, who had one hand in his pocket, his fingers twirling around something in it.

Red hot flashes of anger coursed through y/n as she surged forward and grabbed his wrist. Spencer yelled at her, telling her to let go, trying to push her off. But y/n was stronger than he was, or more stubborn. She didn’t let go until she had pried the small vials of dilaudid out of his hand.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Spencer?!” she yelled at him, waving the evidence around in her fury as she distanced herself from him.

His jaw clenched as he looked at her before matching the volume of her voice. “I was thinking that I’m missing my friend and the woman I love will never love me again the way she did and that everything is hurting so bad that the only thing I’m craving right now is a bit of sweet relief from all of it!”

She faltered at this. With her heart plummeting to her stomach and the stinging sensation of tears pricking her eyes, she looked at the broken man before her. The man she loved. The man she still loved.

“Spencer, I get that you’re missing Emily. I miss her, too. But I’m right here. I’m. Right. Here.” With every word of that last sentence she took a step closer towards him until she was in front of him. “Please, baby, you know you can talk to me. I can offer you a shoulder to cry on and all the comfort food you need and I can…” She hesitated for a moment before leaning up and kissing the corner of his mouth.

As she pulled back to gauge his reaction, she saw something familiar flash across his face. Without needing to ask what either of them was thinking, the two dove right in, locking lips in a passionate, heated kiss. His hands moved to cup her face whilst hers landed on his hips, pulling him impossibly closer by his sweater.

They stumbled their way into Spencer’s bedroom without once breaking the kiss, even if that meant bumping into tables, cupboards and walls. They were used to gathering bruises from their walks into the bedroom.

Clothes began flying about the room, the two of them desperately wanting to feel one another’s heated skin flush against their own. It didn’t take them too long before being half-naked and Spencer being on top of her on the bed. His hips grinded against her core, her desire pooling in her underwear.

It had been a while since they had been in this position, but it all felt natural to them.

Everything felt natural from the way his lips felt on the expanse of her neck to the way her name sounded through his labored breaths. It was as though they had never stopped being this close.

Spencer worked his way down from her neck, between her breasts, across her stomach, all the way to her navel. Once he reached her silky underwear, he stopped and used his long, slender fingers to hook around the waistband and slowly pull it down. All she had to do was raise her hips whilst he kissed his way down her hips and inner thigh.

The item of clothing was quickly strewn about the room whilst Spencer dipped down again, this time using a finger to stroke between her folds. He used his thumb to rub circles on her clit before he gently pushed his index finger inside, eliciting a delicious gasp from the girl underneath him.

Encouraged by the sounds she was making, Spencer added a second finger. One hand of hers grabbed a hold of his curls whilst the others held a tight grip on the sheets.

“Spencer,” she moaned and by the lilt in her voice, he already knew what she needed him to do.

He retracted his fingers and replaced them with his tongue. Licking up her slick folds the way only he could, quickly sent her over the edge. Moans of his name bounced off the walls until that lilt in her voice was back.

“Spencer, I need you–” she didn’t even need to finish her sentence for him to crawl back up. He kissed her lips sweetly whilst her hand moved from his hair down his chest and to his excited member. She used the precum that had gathered on his tip to smoothen her pumps.

“Please,” Spencer moaned into her mouth. “I need to feel you…”

She retracted her hand and wrapped one leg around his waist whilst he maneuvered towards her entrance. Sealed with another passionate kiss, Spencer took that as a reassurance to enter. As his hips grinded against hers, sticky skin slapping together at the movement, y/n kissed his jaw. When she pulled back and laid her head on the pillow again, she looked into his hazel eyes.

There was that familiar shimmer again. The one she loved. The one she would kill for just to get a glimpse of. In the past ten weeks, it had been nearly impossible to catch even a sliver of it, so she made sure to enjoy it while it lasted.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Spencer dipped down to press a kiss underneath her ear. “I love you too,” he whispered back.

Soft moans and gasps flew about the room, their love for each other conveyed by their actions. It didn’t take too long for the both of them to reach their high and for Spencer to collapse next to her. As if on automatic pilot, y/n moved so her head was lying on his chest, his arms caging her in.

“Well…” she whispered, still buzzing.

“Well…” he repeated in that same tone.

It had surprised them to find themselves in this position again. They had broken up after all, but with all the emotions of the past ten weeks, they had seemingly found their way back to one another and back in each other’s bed.

“This might be a better stress-relief than the drugs,” he muttered jokingly and kissed her head.

Frowning, y/n turned her head to look at him. “Might be?!”

That beautiful laugh of his rolled off his lips. “I’m kidding,” he said and kissed her forehead this time. “Thank you… For being here for me.”

“You’re welcome.” She tilted her head a little more before planting her lips on his in another searing, spine-tingling kiss.

The next morning, y/n offered to drive Spencer to work, and though he protested it, she left him no other choice. She wanted to see his colleagues again, too. It had been over four months since she had last seen them.

And the reunion with one of his colleagues in particular was one he wouldn’t want to miss for the world.

As soon as the two of them stepped out of the elevator, a loud gasp startled them. “Y/N Y/L/N! I MUST BE DREAMING!” the screeching voice of one Penelope Garcia sounded before she came barrelling down the hallway and scooped the thirty-year-old into her arms.

“Hi, Penelope,” y/n giggled, hugging the blonde right back.

“What are you doing here?” she asked and immediately gasped, looking between the two of them. “Are you two…?” She didn’t finish her sentence, but the two knew what she was asking them.

The thing was that neither of them knew. They hadn’t talked about what had happened last night. It was something they needed to figure out on their own. So, for now, they both shook their heads.

“No,” Spencer started. “She’s just been helping me get through everything, you know?”

Penelope nodded her head, though she couldn’t miss the look Spencer gave the smaller woman. It was a look that told a thousand words. There was hope for the couple after all.

Not catching either of the FBI employees’ looks, y/n was distracted by the other blonde in the building. The one she and Spencer had spent the most time with when they were still a couple. Spencer’s best friend, and inevitably, y/n’s best friend.

“I’ll be right back. Gonna say hi to JJ,” she excused herself and walked up the small set of stairs towards the communication liaison’s office. Rapping on the door frame twice, she announced her arrival, capturing the woman’s attention.

JJ’s blue eyes widened before she got up and met y/n halfway to embrace her. “Oh, it’s been so long! What are you doing here?”

“Dropped Spencer off and I wanted to come and say hi to my favorite blondes,” she told her, grinning. Upon noticing the shimmer in her bright blue orbs, y/n sighed and shook her head. That was enough for JJ to offer the woman a seat and take the one next to it herself.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Y/N sighed. “Spencer came to me after – after Emily died…” she trailed off, trying to keep the tears at bay. “It’s been ten weeks of constant crying and taking care of him. And I…” The tears finally escaped, rolling down her cheeks in streams. The grief was finally catching up to her. “I wanna be there for him, but it’s hurting me too, you know? Emily was my friend, too, and I just haven’t really been able to grieve.”

A soothing hand came up to her shoulder, rubbing soft circles across the fabric of her shirt. “I’m sorry, y/n. That must be difficult for you. Especially since you’re technically still broken up…”

“That’s the thing,” y/n almost wailed. “I’m not sure we are…”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean coital events have taken place in his bedroom last night,” she told her in a whisper and upon seeing the wide-eyed, jaw-slacked expression on JJ’s face, she couldn’t help but chuckle through the tears. “What do I do, Jayj?”

JJ inhaled with teeth clenched, making it sound more like a hiss. “All you can do is talk this out with him, see what he wants. The loss of Emily has been hard on all of us, but especially Spencer. He’s gonna need your support to get through this.”

With a nod and a new-found confidence, y/n went back home. She was determined to talk to Spencer about what had transpired between them. What she didn’t take into account was that that conversation was going to have to wait. Spencer was called on cases every single day, sometimes for days on end. And even when he returned, there was no time for them to talk about it.

And five months later, Emily suddenly came back from the dead.

The team was being questioned by the Senate Committee for their retaliatory actions in the wake of Emily’s loss. In their search for Declan Doyle, they found out that Emily’s death had been staged and that she was very well alive. Only y/n didn’t find out about it until Spencer returned from the case and the hearing, knocking on y/n’s door.

“Hi,” she greeted with a smile when she opened the door for him.

Instead of coming inside, Spencer stayed put on the threshold, confusing y/n to the fullest. Her heart beat faster at his actions – or lack thereof.

“Spence?”

“She’s back,” he whispered, his eyes rather absent.

“What?” Her tone of voice matched his.

His eyes flicked up to hers and that was when she saw it. The uncertainty, the confusion. For a genius with an IQ of 187, this was something he just couldn’t wrap his head around. It was clear from the way he was looking at the woman he trusted with his entire heart, the one he loved more than anything, that he suddenly wasn’t sure of anything at all.

“Emily’s back… She-she’s alive…”

Y/N cautiously reached for his hand and pulled him inside. Shutting the door behind them, she guided the dazed genius towards the couch where they sat down. Y/N encouraged him to tell everything, to not leave any detail out. And he did.

Every word that came out of his mouth confused y/n, though from what she knew about the Ian Doyle case, she figured it would have been the best plan to keep her safe.

“JJ knew,” Spencer muttered.

Y/N’s eyes widened. She had cried in JJ’s office about grieving for Emily, about Spencer crying on her shoulder for ten weeks straight and she didn’t so much as budge. JJ was one of her best friends.

Not wanting to bother Spencer with her thoughts, she allowed him to unload all of his on her. The two of them talked about everything concerning the case, ending up falling asleep on the couch when they decided to watch a movie together.

Y/N sat with the feeling of anger and disappointment for a couple of days while Spencer was in Oklahoma with the team, working on a case together. She took the time to think about what to say to JJ, but all she could come up with were accusations and words laced with poison.

When Spencer called her that they had landed and that he was going to finish up his report before coming over, y/n decided to pay a visit to the BAU. There was one particular blonde she needed to give a piece of mind to.

“You knew?!” y/n nearly yelled at the top of her lungs as she burst into JJ’s office.

None of the team members had even seen her walk in until they heard her voice. She hadn’t even bothered saying hi to any of them. She had one goal in mind and she wasn’t going to take any distractions to keep her from achieving that goal.

“Y/N…” JJ mumbled, hoping to calm her down.

But y/n cut her off quickly. “No, don’t you “y/n” me! You knew all this time and when I came crying to you, you didn’t even have the decency to tell me!”

“Y/N, I couldn’t tell anyone.”

Y/N’s eyebrow rose. “You couldn’t, or you wouldn’t?”

“I couldn’t.”

The answer she was given didn’t satisfy her and it didn’t calm her down, either. “Probably because Spencer didn’t come crying to you for ten weeks straight! Probably because you didn’t have to pry the vials of dilaudid out of his hands!”

“Y/N!” Spencer’s voice came in between. She looked up to see him standing at the bottom of the stairs. “It’s okay.” He tried to reassure her, but failed completely.

“No, Spence, it’s not okay.”

“I’m sorry, y/n. I really am.”

The woman glanced from Spencer to JJ and back before turning to JJ and scoffing. “Yeah, sure.” There was a bite to her words that shred JJ’s heart into pieces. She hated having two of her best friends mad at her.

Y/N turned on her heel and left the blonde’s office, finding her way back to Spencer. Grabbing her hand in his, he led her towards the hallway where they could talk in silence without any prying ears or eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asked, entwining her fingers with his.

Spencer let out a chuckle. “I should be asking you.”

“I’m fine,” she rolled her eyes with a bemused smile on her face. “Just needed to get that off my chest… I really hate how she just listened to me cry about you and about Emily, all while knowing what really happened.”

Shrugging, Spencer shook his head. “They didn’t have a choice. It was for Emily’s safety…”

“You’re okay with the fact she lied?” She asked, stepping a little closer towards him, the tips of their toes touching.

“No, but I get why they did it. And besides… Shouldn’t I be glad Emily is still alive?” he asked, looking down at their feet. “And that her death brought us back together?”

His eyes met hers again with that wonderful glint he usually had when he looked at her. It sent a blissful spark through her chest. One she had missed. Paired with the most gentle, most beautiful smile, it made y/n weak in the knees.

“Mmh,” y/n hummed, her lips curving upwards. “I guess I should be happy about that.”

Spencer let go of her hands and instead brought his up to her cheeks, cupping them gently as he tilted her face to properly look her in the eyes. “I love you. I have and always will.”

Before y/n could even reciprocate the feeling, he had already pressed his lips to hers in a sweet kiss. Flutters went through y/n’s entire body at the sensation of his kiss. She was still in love with this man, she didn’t think she ever stopped.

“I love you, too. – I am still mad at JJ though.”

Spencer chuckled. “You ripping JJ a new one will forever be one of the sexiest things I have ever witnessed,” he nearly grumbled. Something flashed in his eyes, too. Something she had seen before. Multiple times. “As for your anger and frustration, I might know a good solution.”

It was safe to say the couple arrived at Rossi’s for dinner very late. Spencer hadn’t even mentioned it until they were cuddled up in bed, sticky and sweaty from previous activities. After a quick shower, the couple headed down to Rossi’s where the rest of the team was watching him cook.

“Sorry we’re late,” Spencer apologized when they walked into the kitchen with Morgan, who had come to open the door for them.

“Yeah. And that’s why I cook alone,” Rossi bit back before turning back to his dish.

“So, when do we get to drink the wine?” Emily asked the important question.

“Almost there,” said Rossi as he put his utensils down. “We start at the beginning. You eat what you cook, I’ll supervise, but we’re gonna do this all together, just like a family.”

Spencer looked down at y/n at the word ‘family’ with that proud, careful smile on his face. He was glad that she was a part of that family again.

“Now?” JJ then questioned, lifting up her wineglass.

Winking at her, Rossi nodded his head. “Now.”

The eight of them raised their wineglasses, clinking them together while a chorus of ‘salud’ rang through the air. After a sip of wine, Penelope turned to the late-comers with a sparkle in her eyes.

“Soooo…” she started, dragging down the ‘o’. “Are you two…” She repeated her question from a couple months back when y/n visited the BAU post-coitus.

This time around, Spencer and y/n glanced at each other, the both of them certain of their answer this time. Y/N nodded her head in answer. “Yeah, we are.”

“We just needed to take some time,” Spencer declared before leaning down and chastly kissing her amidst a rumble of cheers from his coworkers.

Through all the terrible and the hopeless, Spencer and y/n had found each other again. They had been given a second chance to get it right.

This time around, he’ll never give her away again.

He had already made that mistake once.

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @n0wornever @wanniiieeee @unnowhatthisistbh

Criminal Minds Taglist:

@boimlers-gonna-boim @samsbirks @tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess @sylvcaplath @tillypettitt @mordechaisworld @ssameadows

If your @ is crossed out, please, check your settings!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #cw: smut #cw: canon death #cw: death #cw: murder

400 notes · View notes

daisynik7 · 1 year ago

Note

“How Do I Breathe” by Mario for Eren Yeager - Angst

How Do I Breathe

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x reader (gender-neutral)

Word Count: ~0.9k

cw: angst, mentions of anxiety, depression, and panic attacks, established relationship, hurt/comfort, modern day setting

Summary: Eren makes a big decision to move overseas to Marley for a new job, away from all his friends, his family, and worst of all, you. He realizes the hard way that this might have not been the best decision for him.

Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request for the y2k karaoke party, anon! This song is sad, perfect for some Eren angst! I dug deep for this, pulling from some personal experience I had with my partner not too long ago. Hope you like it! Likes, reblogs, and/comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

Eren stares up the ceiling, lying in the bed of his tiny studio apartment. The faucet drips slowly; he must’ve not shut it off all the way, causing it to leak. Every now and again, police sirens blare past, fading in the distance to whatever routine crime is happening a couple blocks down. By two in the morning, college kids return from their late-night parties, slurring their words loudly in the hallway, slamming their doors shut without any care for their neighbors. It doesn’t matter though; regardless of the surrounding commotion, Eren can’t sleep.

It takes him one month to realize the vast differences between Marley and Paradis. It’s one thing to read about it in books or magazines, it’s another to experience it personally. Here, everything moves in fast forward, constantly in motion, no time to stop and smell the roses. Sometimes, he doesn’t have time to think, always pressured to make a rash decision. Work is the same; people always on the go, hasty to make deadlines. It’s even worse because it’s dog-eat-dog, no sense of teamwork or community, everyone trying to compete with each other for that raise or promotion.

Life on Paradis was simple. Small towns, tight knit communities, the type of place where everyone knows everyone and you were never alone. Eren spent nearly his entire childhood glamorizing the world beyond the sea. He stayed in Paradis throughout college and when a job opportunity came to relocate to Marley, he didn’t hesitate to take it. When he made that decision, you were nervous about doing long-distance. “It’s only an hour away by plane, two hours by boat!” he claimed, excited. How could you deny him of this? The dream he had since he was a little kid? So, despite your concerns about it, you agreed to stay together.

Two months in, you start noticing changes in his demeanor. His voice on the phone becomes more docile. His face during video chats looks tired, dark circles under his eyes, gauntness in his cheeks, as if he hasn’t been sleeping well. No matter how hard you try to pry it out of him, he’ll never admit that he’s starting to feel depressed, desperate to cling onto this dream of his. A dream that has gradually turned into a nightmare.

Four months in, unable to sleep, mind racing, he grabs his phone, dialing your number, praying that you answer. The air is thick, making it difficult to breath, throat tight and chest heavy. After three rings, you pick up, your voice concerned. “Eren? Are you okay?”

Tears stream down his face, breathing labored, barely able to talk. “No, I’m not,” he manages to say.

You sit up in your bed, fully awake now, giving him your full attention. “Sweetie, breathe, okay? Just breathe for me.”

He sniffles, choking on his spit, trying his best to calm down. His fingertips are tingling now, body cold and rigid, heart racing wildly. He’s convinced he’s about to die, here in this dinky apartment. Alone.

“Eren, breathe with me. Please. Listen to me and do it with me, okay?” You inhale deeply through your nose, exhale slowly out your mouth, loud enough for him to hear. It takes him a bit to collect himself, but when he does, he copies you, pausing only a few times to wipe his face on his blanket.

“Good job, baby. You’re doing great,” you encourage him, listening to him carefully.

It continues like this for several minutes, until his breathing returns to a normal pace. Eventually, he murmurs, “I can’t do it anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to be here anymore. Away from family. My friends. You.” He swallows hard, sinking into pillows. “I’m miserable. It’s nothing like what I imagined.”

Your heart sinks, tempted to say whatever you can to bring him back, bring him home. But you don’t. Instead, you say, “Give it more time. You can make friends there.”

He snorts. “The people here don’t want friends. They want allies. People they can use. You know how much I hate that.”

You remain silent, listening to him, unsure what else to say.

He continues, breathing normally now. “I thought this is what I wanted. To be free, to explore my horizons, all that cliché bullshit. I thought the other side of the sea would bring me joy. But here, I’m so lonely. I miss you so much.” He pauses for a beat, eventually adding, “This place sucks.”

You laugh at his crassness, tears welling in your eyes. “I miss you too, Eren. It’s lonely without you here. It doesn’t feel like home anymore.”

He smiles into the phone, warmth returning to his body, wishing he was with you. Wishing he could hug you and kiss you and cuddle with you until he falls asleep peacefully in your arms. “I’m sorry for being a selfish idiot. I should have never left.”

“You’re not a selfish idiot,” you assure him. “It’s good that you tried it out. And who knows, maybe in another universe, you would have really loved Marley.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous idea. “I think in all possible universes, I would still hate Marley.”

You giggle, glad to hear him back to his normal self.

Six months after his move to Marley, Eren returns home, safe and sound.

#eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger angst #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren yeager angst #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #attack on titan angst #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #aot angst #eren x reader #eren angst #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

225 notes · View notes

beautifulchris · 7 months ago

Text

obsessed

pairing: dancer!lee minho x videographer!gn!reader

summary: minho was the most perfect guy you had the privilege of encountering—and working with. without even trying—or meaning to—, he got you wrapped around his fingers

genres: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers to exes!au, colleagues!au, first person pov!!

wc: 4,4k

tw: obsession, toxic relationship, swearing (in lyrics only, who would've thought), violence, injuries, mention of blood

notes: heyyy! this fic is part of my collection of fics! indented are the lyrics, banner made by me on canva. andddd i'd appreaciate it greatly if you could tell me what you thought about it!! happy reading!

listen to the song for a more immersive experience: spotify link | youtube link

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @kwritersworld @whipped-kpop-creators @straykidsland

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @exfolitae @linos-catnip @prettymiye0n (tell me if you want to be added/removed)

stray kids tag list: @raethethey

Lee Minho (1998).

Have you seen this man?

Perfect skin, heart face shape, a sharp nose, wide cheekbones, cat-like eyes, long eyelashes and pretty, pouty lips.

The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew it was over. He was just so attractive, always walking like he owned the place, and, without realizing it, I became infatuated with him.

I was a newbie videographer in this dancing company called Twinkle Toes. Yes, I did apply there because of its name, being an ATLA fan and all. Anyway, Minho was the best dancer they had.

The obsession started when I first saw him dance. His technique and control were perfect, I could clearly see why he was a professional dancer. All the fluid and effortlessly looking movements he made gave me goosebumps every time I was behind the camera. Or anywhere inside the room, really.

I approached him first. Complimented him on his dancing, which seemed to please him. I kept being supportive and throwing seductive glances his way every now and then. I became hungry for his attention.

Oh, my Lord, never met someone like you before Think I'm kinda going overboard Now I'm obsessed, how can somebody be so perfect? Boy, you really got me by the neck Whatever you want, you just gotta ask

I made no secret of my admiration. Soon, everybody knew but I couldn’t care less.

“You’re so strong, Minho,” I mused from behind the camera. “Thanks to your efforts, the video will come out perfectly.”

He failed to suppress a smile, yet dismissed the compliment with a vague movement of his hand. “It’s a team effort.”

Of course, I knew that. Yeah. The fourteen other dancers were good, but none of them were in the same league as Minho. He was above everyone in this company.

I was usually right.

After filming ended, I took my stuff—camera, tripod, laptop—and walked towards my designated studio where I could work on editing. I wasn’t totally installed when someone knocked on the door. It was so faint I thought I’d dreamed it, until they knocked again.

I opened the door, revealing a shy looking Minho, who didn’t seem to be able to meet my eyes. I found it adorable.

“Yes?”

“Uh, I… Can I come in?”

Now, why would he even want to come inside? Was my flirting so powerful that he already wanted to spend more time with me? I wasn’t one to complain about that.

“Sure,” I said, taking a step back and closing the door behind him.

“So that’s what your studio looks like,” he commented, looking around.

It was a small room with a large desk filled with everything I needed to do my job. The stuff I had with me in the danceroom plus a computer, lenses, microphones, cables, memory cards… Everything was perfectly organized. Bigger equipment—camera bags, studio light, reflectors, tripods—were tidied next to the desk. A gaming chair was in front of it, and on the other side was a two-seater sofa.

“Do you mind if I stay with you while you work?”

I smiled internally. It was so easy.

“No, of course. Are you done for the day?”

“Yeah, finally. Thanks.”

“What for?”

“For letting me stay with you.”

SCREAMING. PUNCHING THE WALL. I could’ve smacked his arm right now for saying this so casually. Sure enough, I didn’t. Instead, I motioned for him to sit on the sofa while I placed my laptop on the desk before opening it.

I could tell I was professional with how well I handled the situation I was in. I kept my desire to turn around and stare at him buried inside me as I edited the video. I had a week to finalize it for an upcoming dancing contest. I was determined to show the dancers’ best side through the video. I also tried not to show Minho too much, even though he was around 20% more present than the rest. It wasn’t my fault the videos he was in were better.

Oh, well. It was common knowledge he was our best hope at winning.

It was getting late, and I was feeling hungry. I saved my progress, switched off the computers and turned around. I’d imagined Minho to be fast asleep, as my job could be found boring from the outside. To my surprise, he was looking straight at me.

“Are you OK?” I asked, conscious he had been waiting for a long time.

See, I checked the time before closing my laptop. I had been working for a bit more than two hours.

He nodded. “Are you, though? Don’t you feel sore?”

Now that he mentioned it, I couldn’t feel my butt anymore. A common occurrence in this field. I got up, stretched arms, back, legs and unintentionally yawned.

“Do you want to get dinner?”

He seemed nervous all of a sudden. Ah, if I could make him mine right now…

“Only if you pay.”

“Deal.”

Ten minutes later, we were walking side-by-side toward a little restaurant owned by a strict-looking yet lovely grandma near our workplace. We’d eaten there before, with our coworkers.

As a typical small-business Korean restaurant, the room was approximately ten times bigger than my studio. Twelve four-seater tables were placed around the room at a relatively safe distance from each other. On every one of them were a wooden cutlery holder for four, and a matching little box full of thin napkins. The walnut-colored counter was on the far end of the room, and the hole that was supposed to be a door behind it led to the kitchen. The only thing giving a bit of privacy to the cook were white lace curtains attached to each side of the… door-shaped hole. On the left side of the room, a TV screen and posters—with pictures—of the menu were displayed on the wall. While on the right side, as well as a bathroom door, were decorations and an ‘appreciation wall’ with a lot of little notes and doodles from customers.

I wanted to sit next to it. If we ran out of things to say, we could always talk about that.

Grandma greeted us with a smile when she saw us, showing us to a table on the opposite side. “Hello grandma, can we actually sit at that one? It’s easier to watch TV there.”

Of course, I had no intention to watch TV, but no one needed to know that.

“Sure, my child, go sit. I’ll be right there.”

Thanking her, we sat right next to the rating wall.

There was one other customer closest to the counter. A regular, by the looks of it. Grandma went to the kitchen and came back with a steaming dish. She delicately put it down in front of the man before providing us with the menus. He thanked her and resumed his reading of a journal. Which I couldn’t identify because I don’t read journals.

Minho and I looked at the menu like we had no idea what to order. While I already knew what his favorite dish was, I opted for something I hadn’t tried before. You see, I like to try everything on the menu. It was a habit in restaurants I often went to. Of course, if it were to be a one-time restaurant, I would order the food that makes me salivate the most. Minho preferred savory foods. The tastier, the better.

He rapidly scanned the plastified paper on the table before looking up at me. “I’ve chosen. You?”

I straightened up, flashing my signature grin, and nodded once. “Same. Any drinks?”

“Soju?”

“Sure.”

Three young people entered the place. Grandma placed them on the left side of the room and came to us. “What would you like, my children?”

“Bulgogi bibimbap for me, please.”

“Jajangmyeon and a bottle of soju, please,” Minho ordered, taking the menu from me and giving them both back to grandma with a sweet smile.

She smiled like a lovely grandma would—contently with a hint of nostalgia.

We never got to speak about the appreciation wall nor did I once glanced at the TV, because we talked a lot and there were few moments of silence.

After that dinner, we spent a lot of time together outside the company. I believed he enjoyed my presence as much as I savored his. We flirted, went on dates every now and then, and recently started dating.

Then, around two months after our first day together, a new, talented dancer entered the company. Her body had beautiful curves. She had long, black silky hair, and toned abs. It didn’t help that she was gorgeous, social, and easygoing.

In just a few days, she had befriended the whole building. It felt like she had always been there. To my dismay, even Minho seemed to like her.

“What do you think of Soojin?” I asked as casually as manageable, considering I was eager to get an answer.

“She’s cool.” Minho shrugged, looking up at the blue sky. “And a good dancer. Why do you ask?”

How he could manage to look so ethereal under the sunlight yet give me such a soft glance was beyond my understanding. He got a hold on me, that was for sure.

“I agree, she’s good. You might have to share your spotlight in the next competitions and projects.”

He smirked. “Was about time. It’s been lonely up there.”

I knew he was joking. He never considered himself as above his colleagues. I frowned for another reason. I couldn’t ignore the thought from overwhelming me. Was I not enough for him? Was I just a pastime? I wasn’t a dancer. Was it a dealbreaker for him?

Minho’s gentle glance became a concerned stare as he stopped in his tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you like me?”

He opened his mouth, but I couldn’t wait for his response.

“Am I good enough? Do you like Soojin more? Do you want to date her? Are you just playing with me?”

Because I would still be wrapped around your finger either way.

“Hey, breathe, babe. I’m here, I’m with you.”

I did as told, and my next words came out as a whisper.

“Are you though?”

“Where is all this coming from? Why would I be interested in Soojin?”

“She’s gorgeous, talented, and a sweetheart. Who wouldn’t like her?”

He smiled softly, taking my hand in his. “Is this your way of telling me you’re interested in her?”

“I’m serious.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I like you.”

I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t get rid of the voices.

Soojin and Minho were the jewels of the company. Meaning they had way more screen time—which was my job—and training sessions together—which was their job. I had to stand behind my camera for hours while watching them dance together. Helplessly watching their bodies touch and their breaths tangle. The sensual moves made me want to break something.

Jealousy stirred up inside me, and I think it showed, because several colleagues around the room sent me looks of pity and sorry.

I knew it was just the job for Minho, but I couldn’t help it. It was beyond my control. Ever since the choreographers created this dance, I have been vile to Minho. Exposing my jealousy to him in private.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I hate hurting you. Really. However, I can’t simply stop dancing. It’s my dream life.”

“I’m not asking you to stop doing what you love, I’m asking you to stop doing it with her!” I snapped.

“Doing that will get me fired, you know that. I told you I picture you whenever I’m dancing with her. Is it not enough?”

He was pleading, but I could sense he was tired and frustrated.

“I like you, not Soojin. I need you to understand that.”

“You say that now,” I said in a low voice, “but I see the way she looks at you.” My voice broke, and I looked away.

Minho shook his head. “Please, stop. I’m exhausted. I’m dating you, aren’t I? What more do you need to be satisfied?”

It stinged. The worst part was he didn’t scream. His voice was stern and accusing. No words would leave my lips. He took my silence as a cue to leave the toxic environment I created. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to stay away.

But I could blame someone else.

I tried to film Soojin in her less good angle, but it felt like she was flawless under any angle. It was frustrating, not even being able to compromise her while doing my job.

Minho, being smart and all, realized what I was trying to do while Soojin was doing a solo dance. His eyes were glued to me the whole time. He grabbed me by the arm the minute I finished for the day and brought all my stuff back to my studio. He made me turn around to face him.

“What did you do back there?”

I was hurt by his suspicion, even though he was right. I stood my ground and lied through my teeth. “I didn’t do anything.”

He sighed in exasperation and let go of me. “Look, I won’t say I know you because clearly, as much as I thought I did, I actually don’t. But I know you did something.” His face softened, but his lips stayed pressed in a thin line. “Please, help me understand. Why would you resent Soojin so much you’re willing to risk your job? What do I ignore?”

I was angry. Why would he defend her if nothing was happening between the two?

“Why do you care so much, Minho? Who is she to you?”

He stepped back, blinking a few times. “This again? I don’t recognize you anymore, Y/N. I thought I knew you. Since Soojin joined our crew, you’ve changed. I believe I didn’t give you any reason to be jealous of her, excluding my job. Then again, I know how to separate professional and personal matters. I chose not to where you’re concerned because I liked you. But now, I don’t think I want to do this any longer. It’s draining me, and I lost my will to fight for us.”

Wait. What?

“Are you breaking up with me? Is that it?” I sounded frantic—and I was. All I understood from his tirade was that he was leaving me, probably for her. This bitch. She dared steal my boyfriend.

“All these past weeks fighting made me reconsider our relationship. I’m sorry, Y/N. I like you, but I can’t be with you.”

He silently stared at me for a moment, hurt and determination visible on his face, before turning heels and heading out.

My legs gave out. Minho broke up with me. I had no intention to accept this. It was all this woman’s fault. She had bewitched him, I was sure of it.

When I ran into Minho the next day, he avoided looking me in the eyes. Everybody could see something was wrong. They could even sense it, as the tension was thick in the air.

“Is something wrong?” Soojin asked as she entered the room. She looked around the room and offered me a sweet and innocent smile.

I wanted to lunge at her. It took everything in me to stand still.

“Let’s get started,” the director said as soon as his left foot touched the floor. He clapped his hands, getting everyone’s attention. He stopped at the center of the room. “Today we’re going to film a two-minute promotional video for our project. I count on you, Y/N, to make this video as appealing as all the other ones you made until now.” He winked at me. “Dancers, I expect you to be in good shape. I need you to accentuate your moves.” This time, he winked at Minho and Soojin.

I was close to rip my hair out.

We did as told. While the dancers gave their all in their dancing, I moved around them with my camera to capture their moves from different angles, creating a nice flow. Nowadays, videographers would use a gimbal to provide support and stabilization, but my camescope and feet were all I needed. This type of work called for a more natural flow, which could only be done without any device.

I knew how to be professional, too, but hated every second I spent filming the top dancers sensually touching each other’s bodies, especially from this close. The looks they gave one another, were they really only professional? I wasn’t sure Minho had ever looked at me like he was staring at Soojin at this moment.

I decided to put aside my anger for the sake of my job, and made the best promotional video yet. Not that I would ever admit it, but their chemistry was undeniable and greatly increased the quality of the video.

Slowly, but surely, I watched Minho and Soojin grow closer. I tried multiple times to reconnect with him to prevent the inevitable, but he was unyielding. He wouldn’t let me touch him and refused to be in a room alone with me. I found his reactions a bit over the top and insulting. But, even worse, he seemed to be protective of Soojin, as if he was scared I would hurt her if he let her out of his sight.

I would, but it was still vexing.

If you go and get yourself somebody new I don't know what the hell I'd do But if I found out, I will go and turn up at her house Break a nail and rip her hair right out Huh, and I hope you like that I'm crazy like that

Life went on, Minho still got me by the neck unbeknownst to him, and I was still wary of Soojin. A month had passed and a new project started.

“This time, crew, the theme is love. I want to feel it, alright? Do whatever it takes. I’m not worried though, because I believe in you all.”

The little speech the director gave ended up with a round of applause and a whistle from several of the dancers. The choreographers were sending each other smirks, as if they were waiting for this moment. I, obviously, loathed the idea. I had barely managed to contain myself this past month. That was going to be torture.

I was right.

The first official practice for the dance, a week after the announcement, I was behind the camera. If I thought they were close during the past month, I was mistaken. For the most part, their bodies were colliding with each other in a way that made the young managers embarrassed. My blood boiled. If there weren’t all these people around, I would’ve ripped Soojin’s hair out already.

When the song ended, their faces were mere millimeters from one another. They closed the gap between their mouths. I heard a few gasps from the crowd. My eyes lost focus. The fury building inside me sent a throbbing pain in my head. I left the room in a hurry before I could regret my actions. The last thing I saw in the long mirrors were their lips connected in a heated kiss.

I wanted to throw up. I ran to the restroom and sat on the ground in one of the cabins. I touched my cheeks with the back of my hands to check my temperature and realized I was crying. I couldn’t possibly be sad, could I? I stayed seated for what felt like hours, developing a plan to get revenge on Soojin. I was not going to let her go unscathed after what she had done.

The pain eventually subsided. Rage was all that was left in me. I was determined to make the bitch pay. I checked myself in the mirror, relieved to see there was no trace of me crying, and nodded to myself to give me courage. I came back to the dance room like nothing happened. Everybody stopped moving and watched me walk to my camera.

“Sorry, I had an emergency,” I told no one in particular, shooting an apologetic smile around the room. “Please, continue.”

I changed a few parameters on the camera and the room came back to life.

I was one of the first ones to leave the room. I stored my stuff in their respective places. Minho was waiting for me when I walked out of my studio.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—-It just happened—”

I scoffed. “Whatever.”

I'll do anything for you, boy, anything Yeah, I'll do anything, anything for you Yeah, I'll do crazy shit And I'll get away with it Boy, I'll do anything, anything for you

I raced to my car and waited there until Soojin entered her own car. I watched Minho go to her window and talk to her when she rolled it down. She nodded and smiled at him. Sickening. He went to his own car and I followed Soojin when she exited the parking lot. I stayed at a safe distance, but what if Minho knew what I had in mind and warned her?

I shook my head. It didn’t matter. She drove around fifteen minutes and parked in front of what looked like a family house. Was it her own place or did she come to her parents thinking I wouldn’t dare touch her there?

I smiled conspiratorially. None of them really knew me. I parked right behind her and stormed out of my car. I stopped at her window like Minho had done earlier and waited for her to roll it down. She stared at me with fear in her eyes and gulped.

I put on a fake smile and my sweetest voice. “Come on out, Soojin, don’t be scared.”

She slowly reached for the handle and opened the door.

“Look, I’m sor—”

I grabbed her by the neck and threw her on the asphalt. She grunted and rolled over. I pulled her hair up and ignored her faint struggle, whispering in her ear. “You really thought you could steal my boyfriend from me and get away with it?” I let out a nasty laugh.

She shuddered, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re not together anymore,” she cried. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

“You’re too cute. I guess that’s your advantage.”

I pulled her hair a little higher and balled my other hand into a fist. I moved my arm back to gain momentum, but never got to use it. Minho shouted my name from his car, parked right behind mine. I let go of Soojin and watched him dash towards us.

“What’s happening?”

He kneeled next to her, checking her face and scratched arms. She cried, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around his stomach. I huffed and folded my arms over my chest. The second she calmed down, Minho got up and faced me. He frowned.

“What did you do?” His tone was accusing. It angered me.

“Are you for real? How could you get over me that easily? Was I nothing to you?”

“Y/N,” he warned, pinching his nose bridge. Then he gave me a firm stare. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I never meant to. I just assumed you got over it the way I did.” His voice matched the look on his face.

Got over it? Oh, boy.

“I guess I loved you more than you ever did me.”

His surprised expression made no sense to me. He did not comment on it. Instead, he reached for Soojin’s hand and helped her up. “I’ll get you home,” he said softly.

He used to talk to me like that. Take care of me like that. My blood boiled but I just watched, feeling abandoned, as they walked away from me.

When he returned, a few minutes later, I was waiting, my back pressed against the driver’s side door of my car. “What was that about?” he inquired, stopping around three meters away from me, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’ll do anything for you, Minho. Anything. And I got angry at the way she snatched you from me.”

He stepped back, dropping his arms at his sides. “What do you mean, anything?”

“Literally anything.”

“But, Y/N, we broke up. You don’t have to. Besides, she didn’t snatch me, I fell for her.” My heart hurt. Did he really stop loving me that easily? “I’m sorry. Really, I am. I can’t undone our history, nor can I control my feelings.”

“You would undone our history if you could?” That was what hurt the most, I think. That, right there. He regretted being with me.

“No, but what you did today… I’m not sure I can forgive you. You scared Soojin, you scared me. If I knew you would be like this, I—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, please.”

Minho sighed. “I enjoyed being with you, Y/N, honestly. However, that was too much. I won’t ask you to quit your job, but can you please, leave Soojin and I alone? I feel like a dick asking you, especially since you’ll have to watch us a lot, and I also don’t want to quit this amazing company.”

“I’ll do it,” I breathed. A single tear ran down my face. “I’ll quit. I can’t stand by and watch you both all lovey-dovey. And I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

It was my fault. I planted the seed of desire in Minho’s head, and my jealousy nourished it. The plant grew and he fell in love with her. I should've known. He never explicitly told me he loved me.

Minho reached for me and for a second, I was tempted to just let him, but that would've been wrong. I wasn’t sure I could leave if he showed me affection. I turned around and hopped in my car.

“Have a good life,” were my last words to my beautiful ex boyfriend before I took off.

The next day, I gave my resignation letter to my boss, and apologized a ton for leaving so suddenly. I pretended to have an urgent family matter hundreds of kilometers away, and moved out during the week. I wanted to put as much distance between Minho and me as possible to help me forget about him. It wasn’t an easy feat. But I moved into a small apartment in another city, got a job in a dancing company named “Encore Dance” and resumed my life.

There, I met a man so pretty I could cry.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Have you seen this man?

thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated :) masterlist

68 notes · View notes

phoniexrose02 · 1 year ago

Text

Be a Millionaire

Miguel Diaz x Black! Reader

P.1 Fluff~

Miguel works hard an becomes a Millionaire, he finally finds you again and Gives you an offer you can't refuse.

Your Family Had been struggling Financially for as long as you could Remember but when your father Walked out Halfway Threw your 10th Grade Year, You became 2nd Provider for your Mother.

Over the Years One Nightstands had become something you weren't to Proud of, But with the Amount of Working and Babysitting you did any Healthy relationships Just Fell apart.

You still lived with your Mother to Support her as much as you could but you Dream of your Own Place. Being Emergency Parent had become Baggage so whenever you could Go Out Clubbing, You Did.

(⁠｡⁠・⁠/⁠/⁠ε⁠/⁠/⁠・⁠｡⁠)

You'd Find yourself in a Random Bed sometimes but you usually disappeared before they could awaken.

But Today...

You Awoke to the Beam of Light threw a Open Window, the Gentle Breeze Slowly Waking you. You stretched into the Shoving your Naked Body into the Silk Sheets, an allow yourself to Look around the Luxury Room.

'Damn...Who is this Guy??'

The More you looked around the More this Place started to Add up, Whoever you'd Boned last Night must be Rich...

"Sleep Good?~"

A Deep Voice Made you Quickly Cover up, and you were met with a Rather familiar Man at the DoorFrame . He was Very Handsome, a lot Prettier than the last man you'd Woke up to. But you couldn't shake the Mans familiarity. "Have we Met before?" You asked Quietly.

A Beautiful Smile Covered his Bearded Face an he Leaned against the DoorFrame." How could you Forget me Mi Amor?~" he Playfully Responded, his Accent Drawing a Surprised Gasp from you.

15 Years Earlier

"I'm so Sorry...I don't think we're gonna Work..." You said to Miguel Sadly, he Shook his Head pulling you Close but you place you hands on his Chest remaining still.

You'd found yourselves Drifting apart, with Work an Just having to Watch your Brother Took most of your Time an eventually Karate was Gone too.

"Why Amor?" He Quietly Husked out trying to keep his Voice from Cracking, away From you as you spoke."I just can't Date Right now? 2 Jobs, Graduation, my little Brothers it's just...Too much" you sighed putting your hand Firmly on his shoulders.

"Something's Gotta Give Baby, Maybe in the Future but not Right now"

Miguel loved you so much, But if Breaking up is What you wanted, He'd Wait for you.

Take you away from the stress of what the World was Taking from you, 'You worked so Hard for Others, Why not Have someone Take Care of you?' He thought to himself.

(⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠)

"Hungry? " he said softly slowly making his way to the Bed he pulled off his Robe Shoulders his Tone Arms in Perfect View, he Placed it at your side before he Finally Sat Down."Did we?" You Pointed to the two of you and he shook his Head."You were pretty Loaded by the Time I got to the Bar, I won't lie we made out a Little bit But that's it"

Would explain the Puddle in between your Legs.

You pulled the Robe onto yourself pulling your Feet to the Edge of the Bed." Your Loaded...Look at this Fuckin' Place" You Gentle Punched his arm Making him smile, he stood up Pulling you with him."Wait till you see the Rest" you let him lead you Out of the Room an you Marvel at the House around you."Fuck You really got out the Sticks huh?" You Giggled Squeezing his hand tight."I did, but never stopped Thinking about you though" your Cheeks Heated as he Lead you too the Kitchen Table,

"How are you?" he Simply asked Settings a Plate of Delicious Breakfast."No way you Cooked this..." You Pointed to the Plate in amusement."I've learned I lot of things Mi Amore~"

(⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

After a Simple Catch up of EachOther's Lives, You'd Found yourselves just Talking at the Dinner Table. After about an Hour or Two Miguel finally decided to take the Plates back into his Kitchen, While you Tried to Remember Whatever your Hungover Brain had forgotten.

"Oh shit! What time is it?"

You gasped Almost immediately Making your way back to his Room, you Shuffled around the Room Looking for your Phone, Miguel had Followed you not Quite ready to let you leave him again." Y/n! Just wait a Sec ok?" As you found your Phone you Groaned Looking at the Time and Plopping down on his Bed." I really would like to stay Miguel, But I've got a Shift-"

You Yelp as he Pulls your Face From your Screen his Gentle Hands around your Brown Cheeks as he stared Deep before Diving in for a Kiss, you Found yourself Melting against his lipd almost Missing them. You couldn't Hold your Satisfied Moan When he Confidently Slipped his Tongue into your Mouth.

"Marry me." He Thoughtlessly Threw Out As he Pulled away From the wet kiss.

"What?? Miguel-"

"We're not Kids anymore Amor.." He Grabbed your Hands Gently Rubbing the middle of your Palms."Haven't we had 15 Years to think about it? You've been working so Hard let someone take you off you Feet for good" You thought Deep for a Second, your lips still Wet from the Kiss.

" I'll pay for your Rent, I'll Spoil your Brothers Rotten Even your Mother whatever she ask for!" he pulled himself close again Lips almost Touching."If it Ment id get to Marry you, I'd do it~"

"Miguel...this is A lot.." You pulled him to Sit Next to you as you sighed Before Licking your lips to Speak.

"How about a Date?"

You said Simply an he gave a Look of Confusion you Proceeded Setting your Hand onto his Lap."I Feel like we should start Slow, it's been 15 years. Shits happened with you and I wanna know it all~" He huffed at you as you Rested your Hand to his Cheek.

"Let me Choose than?" He Spoke Softly Resting his Hand against yourself.

He's not Letting you Go this Time.

Sum people got a Sneak Peek so we doin' a P.2 🤭

More Cobra Kai 🐍

#black reader #Miguel Diaz #miguel diaz fluff #Miguel Diaz x Black! Reader #miguel diaz x reader #cobra kai #Cobra Kai x Black! Reader #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai fluff

112 notes · View notes

blackdollette · 1 year ago

Note

i’m not sure if your requests are open but, euronymous with with his first and only girlfriend he’s ever had sounds equally hot and adorable! they’re both each others firsts with everything; first kiss, first time, and first person they’d do literally anything for. she’s also into the metal scene, maybe that’s how they met, and is mayhem’s biggest supporter.

after every show, she take euro home and just praises the shit out of him while giving him whatever he wants. but she’ll never hesitate to put him in his place if he gets too rambunctious.

ask & you shall recieve :))

"my boyfriend's pretty cool, but he's not as cool as me." | euronymous

brooklyn baby. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @simply-stellar @mayathepsychic1999 @si1nful-symph0ny

female!reader x euronymous

word count: 1083

contents: blowjob, slight facefucking, face painting (is that a thing? idk)

by being mayhem’s number one fan, you’d managed to get the lead guitar player as your boyfriend. ever since the beginning of their stardom, euronymous had always been able to spot you cheering in the crowd. you’d had caught his eye and been on his mind since the very start.

he’d go home and practice his guitar with you on his mind. every concert, he’d show off a little just to try and impress you, and he succeeded. after a concert, he caught you outside walking down the street. he rehearsed his lines and took a deep breath before running up to you and shyly tapping you on the shoulder, a little smile on his face.

since then, you two have formed a perfect little love story for each other. you’d scream his name during concerts and tell him what a great job he did. your compliments and praise always made his heart soften. he’d take you out after a show to a nice little diner where you two would sit and talk for a while.

your relationship took a step to the next level when he pulled you into an alley one night after a show. you two took each other’s virginities right there, and that tightened the knot between the two of you even more. he would do absolutely anything for you, and it was safe to say that you’d do the same.

he’d take you home, where you’d praise him on doing so well. hearing those words come out of you always made his mind act some type of way. he’d pick you up and take you into his bedroom, laying you down on his bed and kissing you passionately. your sex drives were mirrored, but his always seemed to get even higher after a good performance.

he climbed on top of you, pulling your body into his. the kiss left you breathless, him leaving little to no room for you to catch it. he moved at a quick pace, his hand already creeping into your underwear. you tried to get a word in, but he was in his own world and didn’t get your message. he always liked taking charge, but a little change has never hurt anybody.

he was really getting into it, his chest heaving and his face flushing a bright red colour. he flipped you over so you were on top of him. he reached his hand to his pants which were already suppressing a throbbing bulge. as he unbuttoned his jeans and went to pull out his rock-hard cock, you grabbed his wrist, stopping him from making any further movement.

you gave him a cheeky little grin. “someone’s a needy boy tonight, huh?” you moved him a little so his back was against the headboard. his mouth was gaping, like he was struggling to get words out. you sat on his lap and looked down at how his dick strained against his boxers. you tsked, seeing how his precum was already leaking through the thin fabric.

at the start of your relationship, euro was surprised seeing you take charge. he fought back, telling you that you could never take his place, but you proved him wrong that night, showing him a realm of pleasure that he never could've imagined in his wildest dreams. he’d learned the hard way to just let you do what you wanted when you wanted to do it.

you crawled down so you were lying down on his lap. you rubbed him through his boxers before pulling out his cock, it springing out like a jack-in-the-box. “look at you… already so hard for me.” your words made him swallow hard. you were so good at belittling him and tearing down the firm walls of his ego.

you spat on the tip before giving it a few lazy strokes. he swallowed a low groan, trying to stop his hips from bucking into your touch. he looked at you through his cold blue eyes that held a mixture of emotions in them. you brought your lips to his tip, peppering soft little kisses all over it. your lips were glossy, dripping with his precum.

you felt his body starting to shake underneath you. slowly, you took his cock into your mouth, feeling it twitch as you welcomed it into your warm, soaking mouth. he gasped as you began bobbing your head up and down his length. as hard as he tried to keep all his noises at a minimum, he couldn’t help but whimper every time your nose touched his base and went up again.

you used a hand to massage his balls, using a technique that gave him eye-rolling orgasms every time. his brows knitted together as saliva and precum started bubbling from the corners of your mouth. sweet little breathless moans escaped his mouth, him keeping a gentle grip on the back of your head.

he occasionally got a little rough, starting to buck his hips into you without your approval. whenever he did so, you’d sink your teeth down a little, making him yelp. he’d shoot you a glare, and you’d give him the same look right back. you started jerking him off with your free hand as you swirled your tongue around his tip.

he threw his head back as he panted like a thirsty dog. his hips uncontrollably bucked into your mouth as your movements got more intentional. spit and cum were running down his balls, leaking onto the bedsheets. his breathing got painfully heavy as his cock twitched in your mouth. he tried forming words, but you moaned softly once your head was all the way down, making the knot in his stomach snap.

his hands grabbed your hair as he shot hot strings of cum into your mouth. he was a moaning mess, his jet-black hair plastered onto his sweaty forehead. his eyes rolled to the back of his head as you jerked him off even faster, making him paint your face with his cum. you made a complete mess of him, making him cum to your heart's content.

you finally concluded the abuse on his sore cock, tucking it back into his stained boxers. you looked up and him as cum dripped from your face. he chuckled darkly before pulling your face up to his and locking you in a sloppy kiss. every time you decided to take the lead, it was certain that he was going to destroy you when the next opportunity arrived.

author's note: thank you for the request!! this was a rlly fun one omg. here is the form if yall wanna get tagged when i post!

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #euronymous #lords of chaos #lana del rey #444rockstargf

238 notes · View notes

xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago

Text

Woman

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

summary: all the phases of your relationship with Eddie. Based off of the song 'Woman' by Mumford and Sons.

warnings: reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. talks of bad upbringings, bad relationships, reader gets cheated on. swearing, fluff, angst, smut. 18+ MINORS DNI. if there are any grammar errors, no there's not :) the ending feels rushed so lets not talk about it.

a/n: hi guys i'm honey and this is the first time I've written something since I was 15. I'm not new to this fandom but this page is, so I hope to write more things over time. Please be kind to me or else I'll cry.

The golden rays of the sun filter in from the open window, cascading a pretty glow into the bedroom. A gentle breeze flits through the room, carrying the songs from the birds in the trees. Eddie’s not too sure what time it is, how long he’s been awake, or if he even fell asleep, all he knows is he’s been staring at you. He knows how creepy it might be to do so, he just can’t help it. How beautiful you look shimmering in the morning sunlight like some sort of religious being, a true picture of a goddess laid beside him - his own personal Aphrodite. He marvels at you like you’re a painting on the ceiling of the Sistine chapel. His eyes trace over your features, soaking them all up so he can remember you like this for the rest of his life. Everything about you is perfect, a statue carved from marble by Michelangelo himself.

He’s intoxicated by the scent of you, the vanilla soap you used the night before when you took a shower after work, filling his nose with every breath he takes. His fingertips slowly drag along your skin as he maps out the slope of your body. His touch is featherlight, too worried that his calloused fingerprints will ruin the softness of your skin. He always wonders how you manage to be so soft all year round, albeit knowing you always moisturize, he likes to think it’s all you and not some expensive ass lotion.

Your hair is a bit messy from being tossed and turned on all night, and yet it has never looked so perfect to him, he would never mention it to you knowing you’d scoff in disagreement. Every once and a while, your eyebrows pull together or your lips twitch. He likes to think you’re dreaming of him.

Eddie is one hundred percent sure that if it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of your chest and the soft snores falling from your lips anchoring him to the bed, he'd ascend into the clouds above. Eddie Munson is not a religious man, but he thanks whatever God is up above for sending an angel like you to him. He never understood the people who hand out pamphlets about religions, devoting their whole being for their God, but now he does because he’d do it for you. The poor son of a bitch would build churches and museums in your honor, scream from rooftops, move mountains, and ultimately sacrifice himself for you. Even if it’s sacrilegious to pray to a statue of you, he’d do it every day and night, asking for salvation. No, he wasn’t a religious person but for you, he would be.

From the time Eddie was born, the cards that were dealt to him were just unfair. His mom and dad never loved each other, always screaming and fighting every day creating a war zone instead of a household. After his mom left and his dad was shipped off to prison, his Uncle Wayne took him in. Although he and the older man loved one another, they never really said it, only ever showing it by doing little things for each other. Every father’s day he’d save up money from doing odd jobs around the trailer park to get Wayne a new mug. Wayne always picked up new patches for Eddie to sew on to his clothes or guitar strings anytime he had the extra cash. It was unspoken but they knew they loved one another like father and son.

When he got to high school, girls never looked his way and if they did they never wanted to keep him. Doing whatever they could for a deal on some bud and leaving. It became a routine for the metalhead, he’d get off, they’d get cheaper weed, and they’d go their separate ways. Eddie knew he was disposable and that was fine with him. Hell he was used to it by now, his parents didn’t want him, the girls at school and the hideout didn’t want him either, but he had Wayne and his friends. That's all he needed. Until he met you.

It was a shitty September day, the kind of shitty where it’s nothing but gray clouds and no hint of the sun. Leaves had started to die away, slowly falling one by one just to be picked up and whirled around by the wind. The chill of the air started to colder by the time Eddie had left work. If the weather wasn’t miserable enough, the customers he’d dealt with definitely were. One by one they crept into the shop, complaining about popped tires and arguing over wait times. Also, it didn't help that the garage was getting colder with the changing weather. No matter how many layers he wore, it never subdued the throbbing pains in his back and knees. Yeah he had a pretty shitty day but it wasn’t something a new book and a cold one would fix. When he approached the small bookstore on Main Street, he could feel the relief wash over him. Making his way over to the new release section, he picked up what he had been looking for.

He was busy reading the back cover of the book to notice you walking down the aisle. To be fair, you should have been paying more attention to where you were going, but the books in your hands had your attention, stopping you from seeing the cute man that you were close to coming in contact with. With a loud thud, your bodies collide causing you to drop the books you’d been holding. Eddie immediately bent down, picking up what had been dropped, too busy apologizing for being in the way to even see who he was speaking to. Then he heard your voice, so saccharine and smooth it knocked his breath from his chest. Finally moving his gaze to you, he was blinded by the light you had brought in. To this day he jokes about it, telling you how you’re the personification of the sun on a cloudy day. He’s sure he made a fool out of himself with the way he tripped over his words and blushed too hard any time you spoke. It didn’t matter though, because you’d giggle and he’d redden more and more. That day Eddie left the bookstore with his new book and your number clutched in his palm.

September 20th, 1987, that was your first date and that date would be seared into Eddie’s brain for the rest of his life. He called you earlier that week asking if you’d want to get coffee, and you were quick to agree. Never being on time for anything in life, Eddie made sure to arrive twenty minutes before you planned on meeting. To say he was nervous would be an overstatement, he was a god forsaken mess. Knees shaking with every passing second, palms sweating from pure anxiety. Ever the gentleman, he ordered you a coffee, something the barista had whipped up after he told them he didn’t know what you liked. Taking a seat near the window, he instantly regretted guessing your order. God what if she doesn’t like it? What even was it? Cinnamon, caramel, peanut? Oh Jesus, you were probably allergic to nuts. Good going Munson, you just killed your date, he thought to himself.

Before he could throw the drink away, the bell above the door chimed. When he looked up, he swore the gates of heaven opened up. The pretty white dress you wore swayed with the small breeze that followed behind you. You’d look heaven sent. When your eyes met his, you lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree, a big smile etched on your face to prove it. You were so pretty and it made his heart beat out of his chest. He’s sure he looked like a total goof, like a giant puppy excited to see their owner coming home. All the thoughts he had in his brain, the opening line he had thought up to say to you, had all been thrown out the window.

By the time you had made it to him, he had been standing up. Before you could reach for a hug or handshake, his arm shot out with the cup of coffee he had bought you, the same one he was about to throw away twenty seconds ago.

“I um, I got you a coffee.” His cheeks turned pink as he handed you the cup. Then all the thoughts of your possible nut allergy came back. “It’s cinnamon caramel peanut or something. If you don’t like it I can get you a new one.” You laughed and he didn’t care if it was at him or with him, because he would do anything to hear it again.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” You smiled again. “It’s a cinnamon dolce latte, by the way.” He tilted his head in confusion, wondering how on earth you knew that. When you turned your cup to show the black sharpie, he dipped his head in pure embarrassment but then you giggled again and he didn’t feel as bad.

The two of you sat in the corner by the window for what felt like hours, talking about anything and everything. Eddie told you about his job at Frank’s garage, about his friends and uncle Wayne. The metalhead turned bashful when he mentioned his D&D group, but he was quickly relieved when you told him how cool you thought it was, always wanting to play yourself as a kid but your brother never wanted to teach you how. He told you about his sweetheart and his band, how he used to think he’d be a rockstar one day. With every little detail he told about himself, you looked at him with such adoration and it made his heart squeeze.

He sat and listened as you told your story about packing up your car and leaving your old life behind. You needed a new start you told him, one where you could truly be happy. Once you’d gotten here, you found a cozy little house on Biel Street. Apparently the man who sold it to you, is the nephew of the woman who runs the floral shop in town. Within a week you’d gotten the job. It was definitely a change up from your old life, switching out pencil skirts and kitten heels for your office job to jeans and sneakers for your new laid back one. City life was definitely different from the small town you’d chosen but it’s what you needed.

You’d recently ended a two year relationship with your shitty ex and even if it didn’t seem rational at the time, you quit your job and moved on. He didn’t push much on the topic of your ex and neither did you but you made sure to reassure him that you were over the whole situation. Eddie learned that you had a brother living in Chicago and your parents had long moved to Florida after they retired. The metal head made sure to make mental notes of every single thing you told him. How you won’t talk in the morning until you have a sip of coffee, how you like to annotate your books even if it’s frowned upon by others, and that you hope to get a cat one day.

He walked you to your car that night, even though it was twelve feet away from his own. The look in your eyes was the same way he felt, neither of you wanted to leave. Trying to drag out the minutes as long as you could, you leaned against your car door fiddling with the sleeves of your cream colored sweater.

“I had a really good time Eddie,” sincerity dripping from your words. You looked so stunning standing there, highlighted by the moon and glow of the street lights.

“I did too,” blush creeping up from his neck to his cheeks, “I hope I’m not being too forward, but would you like to go out again sometime?” He hoped you didn’t hear the nervousness in his words.

“Yeah,” you said sweetly, “I’d really like that.” You beamed up at him and he was a goner.

That night, you kissed him.

No drug could give him the same high the way your lips on his did. On the drive home, his cheeks ached from how much he grinned. When he got into bed that night, he stared up at the ceiling forcing his brain to play out the events over and over again.

“She kissed me.”

The heat coming from the Harrington’s fire pit wraps the backyard in a blanket of warmth, beating off the nipping bite of the mid October breeze. The sky above is clear of any clouds to hide the small twinkle of the stars, the moon hanging high above the backyard. The leaves fall from the trees in red, orange, and brown piles. You and Eddie had been seeing each other almost every other day since that first date. It had been a month to be exact, not like Eddie was counting the days or anything.

For the past couple of weeks, you had been the discussion of every conversation he had with his friends. They wanted to know when they’d get to meet you, if you guys were officially dating, what you were like. Honestly, he kicked himself the first time he brought you up because he knew there would be thousands of questions to follow. Eddie knew that it was because they cared for him, wanting to make sure that whoever he had been seeing had their seal of approval.

So when Steve mentioned having a bonfire last weekend, he knew it was a secret ploy to meet you. You talked about wanting to meet his friends, yet he was terrified at the idea of you meeting the gaggle of idiots. Dustin would probably bring up some embarrassing memories, like how he shot coke out of his nose at lunch that one time. It made his head spin with every embarrassing thing that he’s ever done in his life, all the things that would pop in his head at random times that made him full body cringe.

The minute he brought it up to you though, you jumped up and down excited that you’d finally get to meet them. He knew he couldn’t say no to you, especially when you had that look of giddiness. Eyes big with elation, infectious smile, clapping your hands together, kind of excitement. God, he could never say no to you.

Now you’re here and you can’t be any happier. Eddie stands across from you, separated by the dancing flames of the fire. He’s standing with a beer in his hand, the story that Robin and Steve are telling becomes background noise. He’s honed in on you, on the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. Max and El are talking to you about something he can’t hear, whatever it is you’re drinking it right up. Butterflies dance in his stomach at the sight of you. You’re enjoying the people that Eddie enjoys, and it fills him with so much pride. His favorite people are getting along, all in the same space. If his nine year old self could see this backyard right now, he’d be blown away. Everyone here cares for him, and he cares for them, something that he never thought he would have.

“It’s kind of creepy to stare ya know,” Steve’s voice cuts through Eddie’s internal monologue. The long haired man takes a swig of his beer trying to pretend like he didn’t just get caught like a child with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about man,” he mutters out. Avoiding any eye contact with the people in front of him, taking interest in the sight of his scuffed up reeboks.

“Oh man, Munson’s got it bad,” Robin butts in. Heat from embarrassment creeps up Eddie’s face. He hopes no one notices, ready to blame it on the warmth of the fire beside them.

“Guys stop it,” Nancy chimes in, “I think it’s sweet.” The brunette sends him a small smile. The metal head sends her one back in a small thank you.

“Never thought I’d see Eddie Munson have heart eyes over a girl,” Robin mumbles over her red solo cup. Dustin nods in agreement.

“Yeah it’s kind of gross, to be honest.”

“Shut it, Henderson,” Eddie hissed, “besides, there’s nothing wrong with having heart eyes for my girl.”

He looks over the group and he’s met with silence and wide eyed stares. Raising an eyebrow, he turns to see what’s caused everyone to suddenly shut the hell up. When he turns his body, he goes rigid with the sight of you. When did you get over here, you were just talking to the girls on the side of the fire. He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He just called you his girl and you weren’t even boyfriend/girlfriend yet, at least you never officially talked about it. He can’t read you and it’s scaring the ever living shit out of him.

After what feels like an eternity, he sees it. The way your eyes glitter, how you're biting on your lower lip fighting off the impending grin that’s due to break out on your face. Your arms wrap around his body, and you snuggle into him. His heart starts to beat again, this time it feels like it’s beating too fast.

It doesn’t take long for the group to move on to another conversation, slowly forgetting the awkward pause that just happened. Eddie’s mind races, scrambling to find the words to say. It doesn’t matter because you’re speaking before he can.

“I like that,” your voice is soft when you say it, yet he can still hear it. He glances down at you and you’re already craning your neck to meet his brown eyes.

“Yeah? And what’s that?” He’s surprised how cool he’s being for someone who just embarrassed himself in front of a whole group of people.

“Being your girl.”

After making it official, Eddie pondered the thought of you meeting Wayne. He knew it needed to happen, he just didn’t know how to go about it. This was all new to Eddie, he never had a girlfriend so he never had to worry about this kind of thing. So for the past week he practiced how to go about asking you, reassuring you it was okay to say no if you thought it was too much too soon. He had the perfect plan, he’d ask you when you were having movie night at your place, casually bring it up over dinner, and go from there. It was a good plan, but Eddie is an idiot and he can’t help but fumble when he’s around you. His palms were sweating and his knee bounced at an obnoxious rate, if you noticed you never mentioned it. He doesn’t even realize he said anything until your chewing stopped, going completely wide-eyed. The first thing he thinks of doing is running, bolting for your front door leaving you in the dust, but then you kiss him. All the anxiety leaves his body the minute it happens.

At first he thought it would be simple, invite his uncle over next weekend and order take out for the three of you. Then you scoffed, telling him you would die before you would have his uncle eating take out when you had a perfectly good stove. That whole week, you’d call him after work asking what his uncle liked and disliked, if he had any allergies or personal preferences. Out of the pair of you, you were more enthusiastic about the whole thing, and it made his worry subside. However, your enthusiasm slowly became overthinking every small detail.

Music blasted on your radio, loud enough he could hear from behind your front door. When you failed to answer the knocking after a minute or two, he let himself in. That’s when he found you standing on tiptoes, feather duster in hand, reaching for the picture frames on the mantle hanging above your tv. Your hair was pulled up into a bun, frizzy and damp from sweat. Your shirt sleeves were rolled up to your elbows and one of the legs of your sweatpants had been awkwardly pulled up higher on your calf than the other. Your usually clean apartment looked even more sterile now, walls looked brighter, and the air smelled even more clean than before. When you had called him earlier to ask if he was still staying the night, you mentioned that you had taken the day off to have a personal day. He thought maybe you’d relax or go shopping, he did not imagine you taking the day off to sit and clean every square inch of your house.

Leaning on the door frame, he took this time to quietly admire you. The way you sang the words of whatever Madonna song was playing, how your hips swing to the music, how you wipe your brow every once and a while when a sweat bead drips down. He can’t help but feel giddy when he watches you, heart growing bigger and bigger, like the grinch, with every second that passes. He wants to pinch himself sometimes because he is so lucky that he has you. You’re so fucking beautiful and you chose him, even though you could have anyone you wanted, you still chose him.

You jump almost ten feet in the air like some cartoon the minute you notice his presence. It makes him laugh and you clutch your heart trying to catch your breath.

“Babe, what the hell? You gave me a heart attack,” you walk over to your stereo, turning it down to an acceptable level. You set your duster down on your coffee table and make your way over to him. Rolling down your sleeves and trying to push down all the frizziness of your hair, he takes notice that you're shy, like he’s not supposed to see you like this.

“Sorry baby, I knocked but you had that god awful music playing,” there’s no real malice behind his statement. He makes his way over to you, making sure to take his shoes off first. He pulls you into a hug, relishing the way his face fits in your neck. “Hi baby,” his voice vibrates off of your skin. You're the first to pull away and he misses your warmth.

“As much as I want to hug you, I’m a disgusting mess,” you complain.

“Ex-cuuuse me, ma’am, but you are no such thing,” he gasps, placing a palm over his heart acting as if you wounded him. His little act pulls a snort from you and it makes him beam.

“What’s all this anyway,” he questions, “Don’t tell me you did all this work when you took the day off.”

You shrug your shoulders, trying your hardest not to look too bashful, “I wanted to clean for Sunday. Ya know, make a good first impression on your uncle.” His chest swells with pride at the thought of you doing all this just because you’re meeting his uncle.

“My sweet girl,” he coos, “You didn’t have to do all this. Your house is already spotless as it is.” Your face rests in his palms, your shoulders dropping with ease at the action.

“I just want it to be perfect,” you whisper and he melts. If he was being honest, he could cry over the whole thing. No one, especially a girl, has ever done something so thoughtful for him. The last time a girl has ever done anything relatively nice for him, was in sixth grade when Stacey Leannski gave him a pencil when he forgot his.

He grins, shaking his wild curls, “Babe, I can assure you that Wayne is going to love you, washed walls or not. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to curl up on that lovely couch of yours and watch Grease for the millionth time,” He jokes, you roll your eyes swatting at him. You agree, but only after you take a quick shower to rid yourself of the sweat and grime of the day. He accepts, telling you he’d order pizza while he waits.

Now showered and pizza devoured, the empty box sitting on your table to prove it, you two sit in the glow of the television in front of you. You’re sitting side by side, head resting on his shoulder, your attention on the movie. He feels overwhelmed by you, you're taking over all of his senses and he’s not sure how to handle it. The scent of whatever you used in the shower floods his nose, the heat of your body burning into his side, the softness of your bare legs on his, it’s all too much and he feels like he’s going to explode.

Eddie isn’t a virgin, far from it, so he knows what it’s like to burn with that desire, leaving your house after heavy makeout sessions, foot to the floorboard racing to get home to take care of the situation in his pants. Albeit not having sex yet, which he was one hundred percent fine with, he definitely felt aroused by you. Christ, you were the face of all his fantasies when he was in the comfort of his own home, hands down his pants, your name falling from his lips in quiet chants. This wasn’t that feeling at all, this was something completely different and it terrifies him.

He’s shaken from his train of thoughts when he notices the weight of your head on his shoulder is gone. He turns his attention to you, you’re all bright smiles watching Frankie Avalon serenade Frenchie. His eyes fall to your lips as you mouth the words, plump and pretty enough for him to kiss you. The illumination from the tv falls around in a halo like way, hair still damp from your shower, your shirt two sizes too big, you look ethereal like this. For a second the world goes quiet, time seems to pause, it feels like it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters to him at this very moment. That familiar ache returns, this time it’s stronger. The beat of his heart is erratic, the sound muffled in his ears like there's big clumps of cotton in them. His breath hitches, and his eyes bug out with realization. This isn’t an overwhelming feeling of arousal, oh no, that’s not what this is.

This feeling is you, picking and carving away at his heart, hollowing out a spot for yourself. This is you pouring yourself into his veins, circulating yourself through his bloodstream. This is you squeezing the air out of his lungs, sucking it right out of him for yourself. This feeling is you branding yourself on his soul, leaving your mark on him for the rest of his natural born life.

That night, he didn't get any sleep. He’s too busy with the feeling of your body pressed to him, the warmth of you seeping into his skin. Even with the heaviness of his eyes he can’t seem to shut off his mind, too busy thinking about how in love he is with you. He’s not sure when he’ll tell you this, but he hopes when he does, you feel the same way.

Eddie was going to jump into the nearest traffic if he had to spend one more second in the grocery store. The lights were starting to get too bright, the music a little too loud, and he swears it wasn’t as packed in the store when you got here - which was like an hour ago, but who’s counting. He wanted to say something, he really did, but when he gazes over at you he can’t bring himself to burst your bubble. Your bottom lip sits between your teeth while you hold two different cans of vegetables in your hand, eyes bouncing back and forth between the two labels. You looked so adorable standing there, it almost makes him forget about wasting his whole Sunday morning there. Almost.

“Baby,” he coos, “Just pick one, yeah? I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Ringed hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into him as he rests his head on top of your own. You sigh, pulling your body away from his, too soon for his liking.

“I know you said your uncle doesn’t like green beans but I’ve never made a stew with peas before. I mean I know you can use both, I just, I don’t know,” you ramble, pouting your bottom lip out and it takes everything in not to kiss you stupid.

“Wayne is a grown man, he can pick around them,” Eddie reassures you. He spots the look of hesitation on your face. Before you can argue your next point to him, he wraps his arms around your waist once again. “I promise you, he will love it no matter what. Now stop worrying that pretty little head of yours and let's get a show on the road, I have a hot date to get to,” He bops your nose and you blush. “There she is,” he says, “There’s my girl.”

“Okay but,” you put more emphasis on the last word, “If he hates it, I’m blaming you,” You playfully scowl at him. Placing the can into the cart, Eddie grins at you in victory, “That’s okay babe, I can handle the old man for ya.” You roll your eyes at him and he pretends like he doesn’t see the small crack of a smile growing on your face.

Eddie was right, like he knew he would be, Wayne loved your cooking and even better, he loved you. Wasn’t so shocking to be honest, you’re a wonderful person and everyone you meet instantly falls in love with you because of it.

The air of the night is a lot cooler than before, the sky much darker now that the sun had been replaced with the moon. The store bag filled with leftovers you packed for Wayne, rustled in the wind. The two men make their way to the truck, even though Wayne told his nephew multiple times he did not need to be walked out, the younger man ignored him and followed him out anyway. Not much is said between the two, Eddie overthinking what he would say to Wayne. Obviously he knew he needed to thank him, not only for coming, but for not embarrassing him.

“I just wanted to uh, thank you. Ya know, for coming over and stuff. Really ‘ppreciate it.” He fidgets with his rings. Eddie’s not sure why he’s so awkward saying a simple thank you, this was the man who raised him for heaven’s sake.

“ ‘re welcome kid,” Wayne gruffs out. Reaching for the handle on his truck, he places the bag of food on the bench inside. There’s another small pause as he reaches into the pocket of his old scuffed up carhartt jacket, pulling out his pack of reds.

“You love ‘er don’t cha?” He lights the cigarette that sits between his lips, taking a long drag and letting out a small cloud of smoke. The question makes Eddie’s eye’s bulge out of his head. He’s a blubbering mess, tripping over his own words not knowing what to say. His cheeks burn harder when his uncle chuckles.

“I taught ya well son,” Wayne slapped his hand on his shoulder, “treat her right, ya hear? She’s too good of a girl, don’t wanna see you breakin’ her heart.” Eddie nodded dumbly to Wayne's words.

While Eddie makes his way back into your home, he mulls over what the hell just happened, he just got the shovel talk from his own uncle. When he opens the door, he’s met with the sight of you. You’re standing at the sink, that adorable little dress you wear moving with you has you sway back and forth, humming a tune. His uncle's words ring out in his head. There was no way he would ever break your heart, he knows he never could.

The colder weather of winter makes its way across Hawkins, leaving trails of snow in its path. As cold seeps into your home, so does Eddie’s things. His shampoo bottles, deodorant, some of his clothes residing in the space in your drawers and closet that you’d left for him. He hadn’t officially moved in, it just seemed easier if he left some clothes over when he’d stay the night.

Your limbs tangle beneath the fortress of blankets that lay on top of you. Hushed voices and quiet laughter fill the room, like two small children sharing secrets at a sleepover. Eddie savors the feeling of your fingertips tracing lines onto his skin.

“Did I ever tell you the full story of why I moved?” You keep your attention to the tattoo that sits on his chest. He answers with a shake of his head, muttering no. Eddie knew the story you told him was a half assed attempt at pushing the subject away and he was never going to push you for the real reason, knowing one day you would do it when you were comfortable enough.

You take a deep breath, readying yourself for what is to come. “Well, as you know I have an older brother. My parents, they were really big with supporting him, ya know? Like they were always going to his baseball games, pouring all the attention on him.” You force yourself not to meet Eddie’s gaze, opting to trace random things on his exposed chest.

“He’s the golden child, the apple of their eyes, and then there’s me. I wasn’t anything special, just kinda there. Anyway, they were never really worried about me because as they said, I always had the option of marrying rich,” a dry laugh escapes your throat, “While my brother, he had something going for him. He was a star baseball player, and they knew he’d make it big. But then he got injured and couldn’t play anymore.”

“When my brother decided to work for an engineering company in Chicago, my parents felt like there was nothing left for them to do, so they retired and packed their shit. They just left me there, and it hurt for a while, I mean I was out of school by that point but still. The idea of them not wanting to stay for me, that shit fucked with me.”

Before he knows it, the light blue pillow case that sits under your head is now stained dark blue with your tears. Eddie’s seen you cry before, just last week you cried while watching The Breakfast Club, but this was not the same thing. Fat, heavy tear drops, rolling down your face, snot leaking from your nose, kind of crying. The sight itself makes his own chest constrict and all he wants to do is wrap you up in the biggest hug.

“I ended up getting a really good job at this company in the city. I was so proud of myself too, I was making a lot of money, and I had my own place. I ended up meeting Paul, my ex, at the bar one night. He was charming, handsome, and dressed well, so I thought he was safe. It was good for a while, really it was but looking back it was so bad, Eds. Like you wouldn’t believe the shit I put up with, but yeah I found out he was using some of the money I had hidden to buy his girlfriend gifts. That was only part of it but that was the straw that broke the camel's back, I guess. Anyway, I found out when I found him fucking her in his bed and the next day, I packed my shit and left. God, I guess you do end up like your parents after all, huh?”

When your eyes meet, the flood you had been holding back finally breaks. Without a second thought, he’s holding onto you as you sob into his neck. You never told him the full story on Paul, but what you did tell him, he wanted to find the guy and beat the piss out of him. The idea of someone, let alone your own parents treating you the way they did breaks his heart. He wishes he could take the pain away from you, he’d carry the weight of it on his own back if he had to.

Eddie’s not sure what to say or if you even want him to say anything, so he doesn’t. His hand pets the top of your head, soothing you, like a mother does to her baby. A flashback pops into his own head, him as a child in his bed, crying because his parents fought again. The memory of his mom coming in and rocking him, the way he’s doing now, easing his tears with a slow song. So he does the same for you.

Slowly, the vice grip you had on him eases up, and your sobs reduce to small hiccups. He doesn’t stop until he hears your breath even out. When he’s sure you're sleeping, he takes a second to appreciate you, for bearing your soul to him, removing the barriers that blocked him out. He vows to himself that night, that he will protect you from anything and everything for as long as you both live.

The glow of the Christmas tree lights reflect off of the living room window. Outside, small flurries rain down, coating the ground in layers of white. The scent of hot chocolate and cinnamon fill the small living room. It looked like an elf had thrown up everything jolly in your home, littering every square inch in something holiday themed.

Eddie wasn’t a big holiday kind of guy, never really having a reason to go all out for them when it was just him and Wayne. He thought you were going to have an aneurysm when he told you, with the way your face twisted up. You were quick to tell him that you’d be more than happy to have him over to celebrate, have his uncle join in the morning, and then meet up at Steve’s to have dinner with the group. Eddie wasn’t too thrilled on the idea, not because he didn’t want to spend it with you, but because he knew he wouldn’t be able to afford a bunch of gifts. Albeit you reassured him that you didn’t want anything, he couldn’t help but feel like you were lying to make him feel better. It wasn’t until he realized that you were not doing this just for him but you were doing it for both of the lost childhood you had, he agreed.

The two of you sit across from each other by the tree. Small boxes and bags hid underneath the fake branches, sitting pretty in the light of the colorful bulbs that hang. The uneasy feeling settles in his stomach when he looks at them. The amount of gifts that sit with your name doesn’t hold a candle to all the things that sit underneath for him. It was decided that you’d pick gifts out for each other and open them at the same time. Doubt fills his brain, but it’s quickly shut off when he sees you with the box he placed in your hands. You shake the small box back and forth, tongue poking out in concentration trying to figure out what could be underneath the paper.

Over the next few minutes boxes and bags are passed back and forth, paper ripped to shreds, and piled of gifts surround the both of you.

Beside you sit your pile of opened presents. The Cure’s ‘Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me’ album, a pack of colorful fuzzy socks, your favorite candy, a new mug with a black cat painted on it, Fannie Flags novel ‘Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe’, along with highlighters and new pens for annotating.

Eddie’s pile isn’t as neat as yours, all haphazardly thrown next to him with care. A pack of new socks because he never seems to have one's without holes, a pair of new work boots, a new Metallica band shirt, a sketchbook and pencils for his D&D doodles, a bottle of Calvin Klein’s ‘Obsession for Men’, Anthrax ‘Among the Living’ album, and a pack of guitar picks.

“These are perfect, thank you baby.” A dimpled smile appears on Eddie’s cheeks. Leaning over to reach you, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“You’re welcome. I love everything you got me. I promise not to finish my book too fast.” You joke. There’s a sense of pride written on your face. He’s not sure why he was so nervous for this, when he’d get to see you like this, truly like a kid on Christmas morning.

He can’t relish in the feeling too long, when he sees you grabbing a hidden present from under the tree. You hand him the small box, the red ribbon mocking him from where it sits in his hands.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t have to get me anything else, I thought we said-” before he can finish, you tut his response away, waving your hands for him to stop. “Shush, it’s nothing big I promise. Now open it.” He can’t refuse when you look at him like that, cheshire grin shining brightly at him.

He pulls the ribbon off, letting it slowly fall to the floor. Opening the box, he’s met with a golden shine. A key sitting in a bed of tissue paper, confusion is written on his face when he pulls it from its place, the box falling to the floor with a small thump. When he looks up at you, the once confident look you had is now replaced with a meek expression.

“I just thought, ya know since you’re here all the time it’d make sense for you to have your own. I just want you to have it in case I’m not here or something.” Your statement trails off. Before you know it, he’s tackling you in a hug. Wet sloppy kisses are placed on your face and you swat at him, giggling telling him to stop.

“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me, you know that?” He’s hovering over you. You beam up at him, wrapping your finger around one of his curls.

“You say that, but you still haven’t gotten your last gift.” You tease and he sits up, letting you up from your position on the floor.

Standing up, you hold your hand out to him. As you pull him along to your room, his heart is in his throat. He burns with embarrassment, feeling like an asshole because you’ve gone above and beyond for him and he has nothing for you in return. When you make it to your room, you gently push him on the edge of your bed, making him sit down. You nudge your way in between his legs, craning your neck down to meet his eyes. Before he knows it, the giant sleep shirt you were wearing is now on the floor, leaving you in the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

You stand there, red lace hugging your body, every curve he’s dreamed of seeing, are now in arms reach. He’s sure he looks like an idiot, drool falling from his mouth, Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. You were such a sight to see, standing there, shy as can be, looking like a wet dream.

“You can touch me, Eds.” It takes him a minute to realize what you just said to him. He slowly lets his hand reach out from you, tracing the intricate detailing the lingerie that sits on your body.

Standing to full height, he kisses you, so soft and slow. When you reach your hand down to brush over the front of his groin, it picks up a notch. Gnashing teeth and tongue, he feels like a feral animal and if he doesn’t do something soon, he’s going to bust in his pants like a teenager. He takes his time laying you down on the bed, too scared that you might break if he goes any faster. The clothes he wears are starting to become too suffocating, constricting his every movement. His clothes are off in a flash, sitting next to yours on the hardwood floor.

Eddie thinks he’s lost his goddamn mind, he must be having a realistic wet dream or something, because there is no way on earth this is happening. He’s waited for this moment for the past two months, imagining every single detail, but nothing would prepare him for the real thing. He’s hovering above, looking down at his perfect girl, wrapped in the prettiest dainty ribbon of sorts. Eyes going crazy trying to get every single detail memorized, scars, birthmarks, dimples - he wants to learn it by heart.

“ You‘re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” He doesn’t just say it because you’re half naked underneath him. He says it because you are the most beautiful woman he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting. No playboy model, no random hook up, no groupie could hold a candle to the beauty you have.

“You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen,” You look up at him through your lashes, puffy red lips stretched into that Colgate smile he loves so much.

He wants to hold those words with him for the rest of his life, lock them away for safekeeping. You have no idea what you do to him, how much you mean to him. You’ve dug your way into his life, flipping it completely upside down, and unlocking a side to him he never knew he had.

“I’m so fucking in love with you, sweetheart.” It’s out there, piercing the air like bullets from a starting pistol. Eddie’s the most vulnerable he’s ever been, giving you his heart on a silver platter. You’ve got him in the palm of your hand, able to crush his soul at any moment.

Reaching your hand up, you cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. He’s bracing himself for rejection, ready to tuck tail and run, but it never comes.

“Good, because I’m so fucking in love with you, Eddie Munson.” His eyes search your face, waiting to hear you tell him it was all a joke. He doesn’t, instead he sees you, just as vulnerable as him. Just two scared people of being hurt, letting their guard down, opening up themselves in the most raw way.

“You’ll still love me in the morning?”

“Always.”

For the first time in his life, he makes love - hands cradled together, foreheads touching, sweet nothings being shared. He doesn’t even notice when he starts crying, not until you wipe away the tears staining his cheek. He would be embarrassed but this is you, the girl who’s stolen his heart and invaded his whole life. When it’s over, you hold him, whispering sweet praises to the metal head.

When the morning light peaks through your curtains, you’re still there, holding onto him like you did when you fell asleep. You didn’t leave, didn’t regret the words that were shared between the two of you. Your promise rings in his head - always.

The bitter cold of March couldn’t beat the icy atmosphere in the car. No matter how many times Eddie called your name you refused to answer, turning your body more and more towards the window. Eddie knew something happened, he just didn’t know what. The night started off fine, meeting with friends to get food and drinks, big laughs and stories passed back and forth at the table. At some point something happened and you weren’t laughing anymore. Your big smile and bright eyes are replaced with a look he’s never seen before. He tried to get you to talk, begging you to just say something, only to be met with a scoff and crossed arms.

Pulling up to your house, you didn’t even wait for him to shut off the car to exit the car, slamming the door hard enough to make Eddie flinch in his seat. He wanted to puke, he hated this, he hated that he didn’t know what was making you so angry and he hated that he didn’t know how to fix it. Releasing a big puff of air, he follows you inside where he’s met with more slamming doors.

He doesn’t want to bombard you, so he decides to wait in the kitchen, where he starts to pace back and forth. He feels like he’s eight years old again after the first time he’d ever gotten in trouble at school, sitting outside the principal’s office in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs, watching the clock go by as he waits to be called back. Although he’d get used to the feeling over time, he would never forget that first time, the way it felt when his stomach knotted up, shaky hands and trembling legs.

He hears the familiar click of the bathroom door open and he freezes, your figure ascends down the hallway, shuffling your feet along the wooden floors. Your hair you spent hours on styling to perfection is now thrown into a bun, your mascara now leaving black streaks on your face from crying, the outfit you took forever to pick out is now replaced with a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt.

Eddie watches as you reach for a glass from your cabinet, filling it with water from your faucet. At that moment he thinks it’s better if he keeps distance by staying in his corner of the kitchen, not wanting to approach you and scare you off. Screaming and yelling, that’s what he’s used to, standing in the middle of the battle front, dodging bullets left and right. Hurtful words being spat, so sharp and full of toxins, ready to leave scars after all the dust settles.

Silence, that was the real killer. It was the calm before the storm, the thickness in the air that made it harder and harder to breathe. It’d sneak up behind you, wrapping its hands around your throat, and slowly squeezing the oxygen out of your lungs. It was the uneasy feeling you get right before you head into the woods at night. It was able to sweep the rug out from under you, pulling you further and further into the darkness to no point of return.

He wants to say the right thing to you, he wants to mend the damage that’s been done, wrap you up in bandages and make it all better. He wants to pull you into shelter from the storm going on inside your brain, to hold on to you for dear life so that you don’t get sucked up in the twister of your thoughts. It’s written all over your face, the hurt, the anger, it’s all there for him to read - like a clue being left behind for him to find. There’s a war starting up inside of you, he can see the smoke signals from here, calling out for help. He wants to break in and stop it from happening, but he can’t - the brick wall that he worked endlessly at to break, is now back up again. This time it’s harder to tear down.

Although he’s never been the first in the firing line, Eddie’s armed and ready for the first hit. It feels like one of those western movies his uncle Wayne used to watch - two cowboys, guns drawn, ready to fire any second. The biggest showdown known to man is happening right here, in the small yellow kitchen of your home. There would be no shoot out this time, no knife-like words to leave damage, no wounds to heal. This time, you’re the first to put your gun down, wave your white flag in surrender.

You don’t tell him you hate him, you don’t tell him to get out and to never come back, you simply hug him. It throws him for a loop, the ticking time bomb that stood before him, defusing itself right before his very eyes. The rain that clouded over him is now washed out by the chirps of the birds, sun pushing its way to be seen once again. There is no fight to be won anymore, there is no mass destruction left in the wake of battle, left to be cleaned for another day.

He can feel the shaking of your body, vibrating with the cries you muffle in his shirt. The situation might be over, but you are still wounded from before, begging for some kind of mercy.

“Baby, you gotta tell me what’s wrong. Tell me how to fix it.” He can smell the hair spray that sits on your hair, from where his nose rests. His big hand soothing you, rubbing over the cotton shirt that drapes your back. He means the words he says to you, he wants you to let him in again.

Your answer is hard to understand, obscured by the fabric of his shirt where you’ve shoved your face to hide.

“Sweetheart, you gotta speak up so I can hear you,” He coos at you. His sweet tone coaxes you out from your hiding spot. Pulling your face from the comfort of his chest, you peer up at him.

“Please don’t leave me.” It sounds so dejecting when it falls from your lips, like you're begging him with everything in you. It breaks his heart to see you like this.

There’s some parts of your brain that Eddie hasn’t explored yet. The darkest corners of your mind, so dark you’d need a flashlight, decorated in dust and cobwebs. All the secrets you’ve yet to reveal to him, filed away, locked behind a door - the key thrown somewhere for him to find. Eddie knows there’s parts of you that you don’t want him to see, too scared he’d criticize you the way people before him did. That was the thing though, he never would, no matter how scary or fucked up you thought you were.

“Honey, I’m not going to leave you, okay? S’just - I need you to tell me what’s going on, tell me what happened.” He’s pleading with you, trying to pull it out of you. Whether it gets him any further or not, it doesn’t matter, he just wants you to see he’s trying, trying for you.

“Will you still love me in the morning?” You’re retreating, going back behind that big brick wall. As much as Eddie wants to scream and shout for you to stop hiding, he knows that the storm within is at bay, at least for now. So he lets you retreat, lets you rest knowing he’ll be back hammering, no matter how long it takes.

“Always,” It’s hushed, quiet like the small flurries that fall outside of the window. Plump lips meeting the top of your head. Eddie knows he’s not getting any more out of you, both too winded and tired from the events tonight.

Cracks and fractures left behind from the people before him, it’s going to take time, he reminds himself. So many times you had told him it was best if he runs away, there’s too much damage and he deserves someone better. He thinks you’re wrong, you are someone better, you just can’t see it. You don’t see what he sees, the girl he fell in love with, he wishes you could because you’re the best thing that’s ever graced this fucked up planet. He’d plant you in front of the world’s biggest mirror if he had to, but he knows that you’d still only see half of what he does. So for now, he’ll keep reminding you until he’s blue in the face. Always.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things au #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader

302 notes · View notes

rainbowmoonstonestories · 4 months ago

Text

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 21

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

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

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ooh. Is this a test?”

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

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

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

“Was I really that obvious?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A foreboding silence ensued.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The Dreaming is important to me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You keep saying that.”

“It is true.”

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

"You are. Beyond words or measure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You need not apologize to me."

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

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

"Even if I become overly demanding?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His words vibrated in the recesses of your consciousness.

"Until dawn summons you back to me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Will it be scary?"

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

“Sounds harsh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes. This is really nice, actually."

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The deer nodded attentively.

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

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

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

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

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

"It’s great!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My lady…?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I attend to every detail that concerns you."

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

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

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

“Of course! What is it about?”

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

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

“New Dreams and Nightmares.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you?”

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

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

You blinked in surprise. "How so?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am not afforded the luxury of rest.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Does it bother you?”

“No. It is just… unfamiliar.”

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

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

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

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

“You’re wrong.”

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

In a way, yes, but not exactly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Inevitable?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You have never feared me."

"No. How could I possibly fear you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Morpheus... this is..."

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

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

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

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

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

Morpheus listened intently, his silence encouraging you to continue.

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

"And then?"

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

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

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

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

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

"You are correct."

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

"Why do you ask?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you, Morpheus," you said warmly.

“For what…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You can open them now, my love."

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

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

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

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

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

"Does it please you?"

“It’s perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unexplored…?

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

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

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

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

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

“My voice?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah—”

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

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

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

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

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

The touch was unmistakably his, belonging to Morpheus alone.

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

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

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

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

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

"M-Morpheus," you gasped.

“My love?”

“Please… touch me…”

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

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

Ah, so he wanted to play that game now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ugh.

“Morpheus, I swear—”

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

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

“Don’t you dare—”

“—But I shall not.”

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

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

“Or what?”

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

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

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

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

“Beauty is not something often attributed to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will not. Let me feel it.”

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

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

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

It was indescribable, unprecedented, exceptional, unmatched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"More, please! Harder!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic

28 notes · View notes