#the Corinthian x bartender!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

2braincellslz · 2 years ago

Text

My Prize

Ship: Corinthian x male!reader

Warnings: Corinthian shit, nothing really.

Desc: yn works at a Burlesque show as a bartender but he envies the girls on the stage. He really wants to be able to do what they do. While hes working, a mysterious blond man makes himself known and makes it clear that he isnt here for the girls.

Notes: I'm so deeply in love with the Corinthian. I'm begging yall, send in The Corinthian requests-

You were working your ass off, filling up order after order. Billy, your co-bartender, had left you for some girl. Probably one of the waiters that also wasnt doing her job. His ass was getting payed for flirting while you were going non-stop.

Any second you would get a brake, you would watched the dancers. Swinging their hips and jumping around like they owned the place. Technically, they did. Everyone came to see them.

You envied their style and glamour. You envied their flirtatious nature. You envied the eyes they got from all the attractive men, then men you could only glance at in passing.

On a lucky day. The owner, Chrissy, would ask you to play in the band if one of the guys was out sick, then you would get a lick of what the girls had.

It wasnt like the girls treated you bad. You were THE bartender they would go to if they had a problem and couldn't find Chrissy or Shawn. Whether it was a costume malfunction or a guy that was getting a little too close or a fight that broke out in the back. They invited you to activities too. Last week, they all took a poll dancing class and invited you. Whenever they would got out for pizza or sushi after work, they would invite you. Sometimes, they would try and hook you up with one of the big rollers that would come in. Saying "you deserve someone that will treat you like a prince." Never worked out but you appreciated their efforts.

"Excuse me." You herd a voice speak over the loud music and chatter of the people.

You turned around and there standing infront of you was another example of something you could look at but never thouch. Kinda ironic for the place you worked at.

The man was tall, blond hair, warm brown stylish clothes, a smile that could talk him in to everything, dark sunglasses. How could he see anything right now?

"What do you recommend?" The man leaned forward, forearms resting on the counter.

"Shots of patrons are always very popular. So are Martinis."

"I'll have a martini then."

You hummed in approve as you pulled out a martini glass and started making the mystery man a drink.

"So, what is a pretty boy like you doing working in the back and not up there?" He asked, pointing to the stage.

You had herd that one before.

"Listen, if you are trying to get cheap drinks, you cant talk your way in to it." You smiled, not even looking up from the drink. You couldn't say his comment didnt nothing for you though. A blush creeped up on your face along with a bit of hope that was quickly shoved down.

"Who said I was trying to get cheap drinks, darlin'"

You couldn't help but cough out a suprised laugh, chewing on your lip.

"Right, because any guy like you would be hitting on a guy that works behind a bar with more eyeliner on then most of the girls because you want something other then free drinks." You smiled to hopefully lessen the tension of your mini rant.

"I'm guessing you get a lot of guys flirting for free drinks?"

"More then you would expect." You slid him his drink.

"And how do you know they are only here for drinks and not to talk with a cute boy?" He hummed, sipping his drink.

"Because they leave after they get their drink."

You and the mystery man stared at eachother. You were waiting for his to prove you right. You were waiting for him to leave the stool chair and go back to whatever date he brought here. Yet, he didnt. Maybe he wanted to prove you wrong.

"I havent left yet."

"So you haven't. Would you like a reward?"

The man laughed and you cursed yourself for letting butterfly's fill your chest.

"Reward would be nice. What do you have to offer? A free drink?"

Now it was your turn to laugh. "Not a chance. But if you stick around long enough, I'll give you a prize. And no, it's not a free drink."

"Alright, that type of prize then?" He finished off the drink.

"Depends."

Then came the next wave of orders. As you worked, filling up the different trays, you half expected the handsome man to leave. It was boring here. More boring then watching the show. But to your suprise, when you were done, he was still there.

You shighed and went back to the man.

"You look great in that outfit. It complements your eyes."

"Oh, thank you." You chuckled, whipping down one of the glasses and placing it with the others. "Not as good as them."

The man swiveled in the chair, turning to look at the dancers. "Are you interested in one of them?"

"No, I dont exactly swing that way."

"You want to be up there, then."

You didnt say anything but you could tell he knew. It was obvious by the way you stared in awe at the girls. Someone who didnt know would probably think you wanted a piece of one of them.

"Have you ever thought of auditioning?"

"I wouldn't be able to do what they do. I would just be a backup dancer for the true stars."

He hummed, turning back to you. "Well, I think, the best view in the place is you."

You looked back at the guy, laughing off his comment. "We may not have any windows but we do have the best view in Hollywood."

"I never got your name, pretty boy."

"Y/n"

"Corinthian."

Corinthian. That sounded oddly familiar but you couldn't place your finger on it.

"Its nice to put a name to a pretty face." You smiled, leaning on the counter.

"Oh, I could say the same for you." His confidence never wavered. Its was very hot. It brought a stronger blush to your face.

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

The club was emptying out. The last patrons were emptying out. And the blond man was still keeping you company.

"I stayed the whole time." He said, getting up and grabbing his jacket that he shead some time during yalls conversation. "Wheres my prize?"

"I was just joking about that." You chuckled. "But what do you want."

"Leaning over the counter and close your eyes."

You did as he said. You knew what was coming. It was kinda obvious. And you were right.

A quick kiss was pressed to your lips. It was too short. After all this time you spent with the charmer one small kiss was not enough to feed your need for him.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He hummed and he left.

You shighed and glanced over, seeing all the dancers staring in awe.

"YN! " one of the girls practically screamed, running over and hugging you over the counter.

"And I thought you were a lost cause." Another girl smiled.

"I owe Chrissy 30 bucks."

"It was a quick kiss!" You defended yourself but god, did you hope the blond man had more in store for you.

#the corinthian x male reader #the corinthian x male yn #the corinthian x reader #gays on the fyp #the corinthian x you #the corinthian #the Corinthian x masc reader #the Corinthian x male!reader #the Corinthian x male!yn #the Corinthian x masc!reader #the Corinthian x bartender!reader #burlesque #Burlesque fic #the sandman hc #the sandman #the sandman fic #the Corinthian fic #fluffy #fluff

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thomotomo · 2 years ago

Note

I’m hoping you’re still taking Corinthian requests… but can you please do a Corinthian X Male Reader ?

Maybe the two met at a bar and hit it off, dancing flirting and eventually leaving together? 👀

If you prefer established relationships they could also be at a bar and someone is flirting with reader and Corinthian wants to make sure the guy figures out they’re together.

It doesn’t have to be smut if you aren’t comfortable! :)

Thank you

Seduction

Heya anon! I hope you enjoy this! You inspired me so I have another one incoming that have kind of the same premise hehe. Don't hesitate to leave a Kofi or comments/reblogs if you enjoyed the fic, see y'all soon! <3

Warning: MALE READER, NSFW, Minors DNI

He didn't really remember how this obsession had started but he knew that the second he saw you he had to have you. It had scared him, he had seen you from afar and something had started bulbing up in his stomach.

He had kept his eyes fixed on you the whole night, you were enjoying yourself, dancing with your friends, laughing and drinking with them.

Corinthian had originally came to find his next meal, but your aura, your presence in this club had in some way swept him off his feet. His (non-existent) eyes were hidden behind his dark glasses as he kept his gaze trained on you.

Your eyes flickered for a second towards him and his breath had been taken away, it was the most beautiful he had ever seen.

They had a small glint of gold, whether it was due to the reflection of the lights or a natural glint, the Corinthian didn't care and it was in this small brief instant where you met each other's stare that he knew he had to have you.

Not in his usual gory fashion, but in a sweet manner that wasn't usually his style. He wanted to smother you in his arms and take care of yourself, protect you from the horrors of the world and from the other nightmares.

He kept his stare trained on you, watching like a hawk. Your friend noticed him and smirked, looking at him as he whispered something in your ear. Your eyes looked around the club until you met his black glasses. He sent you his usual flirty smile as he rose his glass in recognition. You rose yours back and turned back to your friend who was looking at you with a knowing grin.

The Corinthian was sure he had caught your interest and he was now taking wide strides towards you, the sea of people easily parting to let him make his way towards his obsession without any issues.

He licked his lips in anticipation, admiring your hand going through hair in an attempt to rearrange them. You fully turned towards him, drink in hand, as he reached you.

From up close you were even more beautiful and your eyes were truly mesmerising.

"Hey handsome." He drawled, smirking as could see your grin turning more bashful.

"Hey yourself." You not so sneakily pushed your friend away when he snickered behind you. “So… Are your glasses for style or are they needed?”

“Mhh a bit of both actually. You know nothing better than joining useful and stylish?”, he grinned and you chuckled. He downed his drink in one go, watching as you took a sip of your nearly finished one.

“Can I offer you a drink?”

You accepted and the two of you walked towards the bar, his hand hovering on your back, just above your ass and you couldn’t stop the shiver from feeling the warmth of his hand on you, even though it was through clothes.

Once at the bar, you couldn’t help but look at him, his face already beautiful in the lights of the club, but now that the lightly orange lights at the bar were highlighting his face and you could almost feel the charisma radiating out of him as he called up the bartender.

“What do you want?”, well damn if his voice didn’t shake you to your core. You wetted your lips, looking straight at his glasses.

“A sex on the beach please.”

He grinned, licking his own lips and turned to the barman, ordering both yours and his drink. Once the barman had left to prepare the drink, he trained his eyes back on you. You couldn’t see them but you could feel the trace it left on your face and you could only guess the way they were burning with desire.

“So… Do you often buy drinks to guys in nightclubs?”, you couldn’t help but ask, whether it was from unadmitted jealousy or just innocent wonder. He chuckled lowly, keeping his eyes on you.

“Only the cutest ones.”

Your quickly averted your eyes, face growing hot as the blonde man’s grin widened, it was clear he knew what effect he had on you. He stepped in your personal space, a hand finding its place on your waist.

“You have marvellous eyes, you know? I could drown in them for days…”

“Ah… I wish I could say the same but I love these glasses on you. By the way, I don’t think I’ve caught your name. I’m (Y/N) by the way.”

“I’m Corinthian. But you can also call me sir.”, his voice dropped an octave as he said that, making your legs feeling like jelly and your cock twitching in interest.

You became bolder, your hand coming to play with the collar of his vest, looking up at him while gently biting your lip. Your flirting got interrupted by the bartender, putting down your drinks. You picked up the sex on the beach and him, his martini. He once again put his hand on the small of your back, bringing you on the edge of the dancefloor, chatting up directly in each other’s spaces, completely absorbed. Once the two of you had finished drinking, you dragged him on the dancefloor, the alcohol running in your veins making you bolder, so you teased him, not quite kissing him.

You could feel his grip on our waist tightening whenever you teased him too much on certain part, especially on his neck. He himself, groped you in multiple places. You could feel the arousal build up in your belly and you were about to drag his face towards yours when one of his hands left your waist and gripped your face, crashing your lips with his. Your eyes widened in surprise but you quickly accepted it, opening your mouth and engaging in a heated make out with the blonde man. After a few minutes, he broke the kiss and whispered in your ear.

“Let’s go to my house?”, you could only nod, looking at him dazedly as he straightened his clothes and look, looking composed as if nothing had happened. You followed him as he started to make his way outside, quickly shooting a text to your friend. The two of you walked to his car, and you were very excited about what was going to happen at his place.

The two of you jumped in his car and he quickly drove to his apartment, your leg was shaking up and down, and your dick straining in your pants. Once you reached the bottom of a building that looked very nice on the outside. Corinthian dragged you inside, and luckily for the both of you the elevator was already waiting.

As soon as he had clicked on the last button he lunged himself at you, his lips devouring yours, barely allowing you to take a breath after a few moments. His leg snaking between the two of yours, his knee pressing against your crotch, making you moan. The elevator dinged, breaking off your moment, your leg felt jelly, you weren’t sure if you could walk and it almost felt he knew it because Corinthian picked you up as if you weighted nothing.

As he took long strides towards his apartment door, you were teasing him, biting his neck and earlobes, you could almost feel his dick harden in his pants. As soon as the door opened he walked inside, closed it with his feet and quickly brought you to his bedroom, putting you down on the bed, making you laugh.

He immediately dived back on you, biting you neck, his knee grinding on your crotch, dragging moans out of your mouth. You started taking off his clothes, helping him his shirt and vest, impatient to see what was hiding underneath it.

Corinthian smirked as he saw your eyes widen slightly and your tongue poking out from your cute plush lips and he quickly helped you take off your clothes, finding yourself naked in from of him, he quickly took off his pants and parted your legs, seating between them as one of his hands snaked on your torso and one of his hands stroked your right nipple, making you gasp. He grinned, and your breath caught in your throat, he looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t help but snake one of your legs around his waist, bringing his hips flush with your, pulling a laugh out of him.

“Ooh I see you’re impatient boy…”

You nodded as he pulled your nipple, bending down to catch the other one between his teeth, making you moan lowly and you couldn’t help but arch your back towards him.

Corinthian couldn’t help but growl a little, had he had actual eyes, he was sure his irises wouldn’t have been seen. He caught your lips once again, his free hand gripping your hips, flushing his own with yours. He could feel your erection twitching, he wanted more, he was going to take more.

He made sure to bite your neck, leaving purple marks and making his way down your body, leaving bite marks and hickeys, marking you as his. One of your hand was in his hair, gripping them as he reached your lower parts and bit the inside of you thighs, his cheek brushing against your testicles, making you sigh and before you knew it, his tongue licked a stripe on your dick.

“Ah!”

“Mmh… You like that boy?”

“Yessir!”

Corinthian grinned and wrapped his mouth around your cock, easily taking you in his mouth. His head bobbing up and down, pleasuring you and teasing you, trying to bring you near the edge without ever allowing you to come. You could only let out breathy moans as his skilled tongue swirling around the tip of your dick, one of his hands still playing with your nipples. He was driving you mad, you could only moan his name, begging for release.

“P-please sir! Let me ngh… come…”

He hummed, making you let out a cry as the vibration reverberated around your dick. He felt your dick twitching, as you were on the verge of coming.

“Fffuck no…”

“You’ll only come when I say it. Okay?”, you whined, looking at him through your eyelashes. He tutted and gripped your chin with his hand.

“Boy. I said… You’ll only come when I say it. Okay?”

“Yes sir~”

“Good boy. Now suck.” he smirked and shoved his fingers in your mouth, taking you by surprise. He used his other hand to keep teasing you, pulling at you nipples and playing with them, licking your throat, tasting the sweat and almost tasting the need exuding from you. His fingers were almost hitting the back of your throat and drool was sliding from your mouth as he kept trying to gather as much spit as possible without any care in the world. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, you could only moan and arch your back as he was relentlessly playing with you, until finally, he decided mercy and stopped any ministrations, taking his fingers off your mouth, letting you pant as he examined if it was enough spit. Then he gently slid one finger in your hole, wiggling it around to help you relax and quickly inserted a second one, intently watching your face as he did so, after all he didn’t want to hurt you in a bad way.

He worked his fingers inside your hole, trying to find you prostate and you suddenly tightened around him, letting out a breathy moan. He grinned and teased the spot a little more, holding the base of your cock to stop you from cumming.

You couldn’t help but wriggle your hips a little bit, widening you legs, begging for him to just already put his cock inside of you, after all it had been sitting here on his abs, red from excitement and clearly dying to slip inside of you. He chuckled and finally gave in, he slipped out his fingers out of you, spitting in his hand to lubricate his cock as much as he could without lube.

Finally he pushed inside of your hole, bottoming out, pushing the wind out of your lungs as he groaned in pleasure.

Corinthian looked at your flushed, blissed out face. His hands went wand gripped your waist and slowly pulled out, almost out of the way before slamming them back into you. You could only moan his name, wrapping your arms around his back, your nails raking down his back, making him hiss in pleasure. His hips moved back and forth, completely filling you up and hitting your prostate, making you see stars and cry his name out.

“That’s good Y/N, keep calling my name boy.”

“Fuckkk… Corinthian ke… kep doing that!”

Corinthian’s hands grip was obviously going to leave bruises on you tomorrow. His hips kept slamming into yours, chasing his release, bringing you near the edge to the point that it was almost painful.

“P-please sir… Let…Let me come!”, you cried out in his year and he observed your face, dried tears on the side of your face and new ones already making their way down towards the bedsheets. He smirked and kept a punishing pace, his mouth right next to your ear, panting, the heat of his breath making you shiver.

“Come now boy.”

“Ah!”

Finally you allowed yourself to release the build-up that was in your stomach. Your cum ending up mainly on your chest but also over Corinthian’s torso. The sudden tightening of you ass making his cock twitch once again. He groaned, his hips stuttering and he followed you soon, cumming inside you.

He sighed, looking at you as you were catching up your breath, flushing when you saw he was staring at you. You chuckled awkwardly and turned your head away as your face became hot.

“Oh come on, you are getting shy on me now? I still have my dick inside you love.”

“Shut up Cor.”

He nosed at your neck, gently nibbling it from time to time, before gently pulling his cock out, making you hiss. He laid beside you and you turned to look at him, yawning exhaustedly, your hand gently caressing his chest. Slowly you dozed off, cuddled toward Corinthian, after having such a mind blowing sex.

#the corinthian #the corinthian x male reader #corinthian x male reader #x male reader #corinthian x reader #corinthian x y/n #male reader #male reader insert #the corinthian x reader #the sandman fic

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knightofmidnightsun · 2 years ago

Text

THE NIGHTMARE NEARBY, prologue

the corinthian x gender neutral!reader

word count: 4,4K

warnings: angst, pure angst and our little friend corinthian being a manipulative bastard sz a not deep description of a body, mention and description of death (this story takes place during the 80s)

summary: it’s truly a burden to be able to see more than the others, see things beyond life and death. there is a reason why, for one night, all you wanted to was to forget everything you saw that day. lucky you, the universe brought you the best company to do so… or no.

A/N: I just finished this prologue and haven't revised it, so sorry I was just too excited to post it. First thing when I wake up tomorrow I'll revise it lol. until there, I hope you enjoy the story Sz | fic's masterlist |

oo. prologue: the detective and the man wearing sunglasses

Inside the bar, the agitated voices and shouting were music for most of the drunk men there. Despite all the noise, they found themselves there and were capable enough to discern their own words from the others, as you did as well.

Except for the music part. While all of them were entertained by their loud conversations and tapping glasses on tables, your attention was on the non-stopping rain outside this place.

On how its tapping was way more rhythmical than the sound of the drunk drinks against one another. Everything else was white noise, the only thing you heard inside there was the rain and your own thoughts.

After finishing your third or fourth beer, you gave the last look at the case file. The photos, the few witness reports, and your notes, all over again. Your gloves finger traced every single detail one more time, ignoring how it made your insides twist.

All that you saw today came to view, again and again. As came the same questions, not followed by any answer or solution. If so, just more questions than before and nothing more than that.

A young boy. White, his skin is pale but he used to have more color on his cheeks — even more at this time of the year.

His black hair is in place as if it hasn't been touched. You'd even there it was fixed before the boy was found.

In the file about that day's case, the boy was younger, but even there you could see his eyes twinkle. A beautiful sea blue filled his iris as he smiled big. If it weren't for the photo, the way her mother described it would be enough to know how beautiful they used to be.

Being nothing more than a memory as you forced yourself to look at the young boy's body. Especially his face, what was missing there.

His eyes. Now, there were only bloody empty sockets.

Despite everyone else avoiding the view, you kept looking. In some way, you would never forget this scene.

If there was something that you were used to, it was nightmares following during the day, not at night.

You sighed deeply, putting the files back into your bag and resting your empty beer back on the bar counter. Your fingers tapped impatiently against the wood, making no sound thanks to the black gloves as if the quiet melody along with the rain pounding would help you to find a hint to the case.

Instead of that, you only found more spiral thoughts and the willingness for one more beer.

“Bruce,” you whispered, being the only person sitting at the counter, the bartender quickly turned his head to you and came toward your way. A beer ready in his hand, “One more.”

There was no need for you to clarify what you wanted, not just for the drink already being replaced in front of you but also for the scowling in the long-known man’s face.

“Asking this is against my job but I do have to ask you as a friend, is it really a good idea to spend your night after work drinking?” Bruce quipped a brow, cleaning some glasses.

At first, you ignored him, sipping the beer anyway as you lift your brows.

‘Friend’ was a strong word, were you two actually at that stage already? Well, yes, you came to that bar a lot, more than most of the usual customers. And, every time you went there, you sat at the counter and made a quick conversation with Bruce.

Sometimes, you would comment about a little of what you did at your job, how you helped your colleagues, or how they were all fucking bastards. Never about the cases, you didn’t wish for Bruce to have the same nightmares you already had to face. Other times, Bruce would say how much he hated the other customers, how he always went back home with a buzzing in his ears and couldn’t get to sleep.

And, honestly? Neither could you. That would lead you to always be there when Bruce closed the bar for the night.

That didn’t make you exactly friends, did it? You were just two people who shared the same annoyance for people that you have to deal with while working, being them colleagues or clients.

“You know how much I need this,” you finally spoke, shrugging, “If it wasn’t against your regulations, you’d be drinking as much as I do”

Bruce snickered, shaking his head in disbelief. He always pointed out how he hated how you turned tables as a habit.

“True,” he rolled his eyes and you grinned at his fake annoyance, “But I don’t want to deal with you tomorrow complaining about mornings’ headaches”

That was your time to roll your eyes, “Don’t worry, it’s only for tonight, tomorrow I’ll be back to normal”

You sipped your beer again, letting the silence sink. The quietness was enough for Bruce to sense the meaning behind your words, he let go of the glasses and his cloth, tightening his lips.

“That bad?” He questioned in a whisper, “It’s like the one solved last month?”

Nothing was said, the silence continued to fill the space between you two for a minute or two. But for both of you, it felt like an eternity.

Your fingers tapped the beer, the only sound that filled the conversation besides the rain. At least for you, for Bruce, there were the shouting and loud conversations as well.

In the end, you chose to nod. It felt like if you dared to say any word of affirmation, the memories about what you saw would come back in a strick, as the thunderous thoughts that would always make you company along the day.

The only time of the day that you were truly alone, alone in your head, was at the bar. In your fifth beer.

Bruce nodded as well, acknowledging it. His elbows rested on the counter, taking a deep breath before cutting the silence for good.

“So drink to your heart’s content” he shrugged, “I hope you find the person behind it”

“The man,” you muttered, facing the rain outside, “It’s a man and no worry. I will try to find him”

“You know I will worry, you like it or not” Bruce followed your gaze.

You looked back at him, slightly smiling and nodding at him. Despite everything, hearing him saying that, relieved a bit of what today brought to you.

Someone called for Bruce, saying something that you didn’t pay attention to at first. It wouldn’t be the first time that some waiter told Bruce to go back to work instead of talking with the customers.

However, when Bruce shook his head in affirmation and thumbed up, you tilted your head in confusion. Noticing it, Bruce turned back to you.

“Bill needs an extra pair of hands to move the boxes to the new compartment,” Bruce clarified, putting his cloth back into his pocket and fixing his sleeves, “I come back soon”

You widened your eyes, turning your head and following Bruce’s moves as he left the counter.

“And what do I do if some customer comes here?”

Bruce puffed, of course, you were more worried about some customer talking with him than Bill not being strong enough to deal with the boxes alone.

“If for the last months your grumpiness has been enough to scare the customers away from the counter, I don’t believe that it will be different now”

When you gave the finger to the bartender, he already had his back to you. But, somehow, as if having a third eye on his back of the neck, he laughed as he followed Bill.

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered, shaking your head and finishing drinking your last beer.

After a beat, you watched the rain, wondering about what was inside your bag. Usually, when you were in the bar, you read the files to not feel so guilty for drinking instead of resting. It never helped you anyway while working during the day, but it was kind of routine.

You knew that… Yet, something about that day's case was different. At the same time, it plagued your mind, you couldn't leave it aside for a minute.

Once again, you opened the bag, searching for the files.

Turning your head to the officers behind you, you told them you needed some time alone. To examine the body and make your first assumptions without anyone distracting you.

It was a terrible excuse, even so, no one then said something against it as they left you.

So you brought your attention back to the body. For the eyes lacking.

Then, you glanced at the gloves in your hands. Taking a deep breath, you started to get rid of them.

There.

You grasped at the files, pulling them out of the bag.

"Will the bartender come back soon?"

Suddenly, a voice broke through your mental soundproofing. You let go of the files and turned around, looking at the stranger man in question, right beside you.

If he was a regular as you, you couldn't be sure. You didn't make the effort to recognize the people who went to that bar every night, at best, you avoided even glancing at them. So, to you, everyone there was a stranger.

However, as you stared at that man, you didn't believe that you wouldn't recognize him if he really was a regular. Even if you hadn't looked him in the face, you would be able to spot him in a crowd.

He wore a beige overcoat paired with a light color shirt and an elegant skinny tie, much more well-dressed than most of the drunk men there. With a confident smile, he brushed his blonde hair with his fingers while playing with the empty glass in his other hand.

Despite all of that, it wasn't his looks and his stance that shook you for a second. But the sunglasses.

It was winter and it had been raining for days. Without mentioning the time, darkness filled the sky and wasn't followed by any star.

And, that didn't seem to stop the stranger from wearing sunglasses.

"Hm," you searched for Bruce anywhere near, hoping for him to have finished helping his friend. But as it appeared, it was left for you to do his job, "I believe no but if you want a refill, I can do it for you, I guess he will take some time to come back"

“Oh don’t,” the blonde dismissed you as he sat at the empty sit by your side. Leaving the glass that once was filled with whisky on the counter, he traced it with his fingertips, “I didn’t come here for a refill”

Okay… Weird?

Confused, you tilted your head, trying to see what he really meant. You looked around, even daring to glance at everyone else in the bar, perhaps the blonde had come with some friends and they had dared him to go to the counter and talk to you.

That was the only plausible explanation for this situation. Normally, you’d excuse yourself to the bathroom, and leave a note to Bruce saying that you needed to go but the last time you did it, Bruce almost kicked your ass out of the counter when you came back.

It wasn’t like you were an introvert, that wasn’t the problem. Well, not exactly.

It was… Difficult, that’s all. Sometimes, even when you have your guards up and gloves in your hands, it was difficult to be around new people.

For some reason, with Bruce was easy. Perhaps, because being behind the counter was his job and you couldn’t really get him out of there, so you just got used to it.

But, besides that? Everything else was overwhelming.

As that moment.

Especially, when you noted that the stranger was truly alone, with no friends from wherever table he was sitting before.

Even sensing what he might say to you, you did have to ask. Just to make sure.

“So, what brought you here?” you asked, pushing your empty beer away from you and facing the stranger’s face. Or what you could see of it due to his sunglasses.

The man grinned at you and, you didn’t know why — not even after that you had an answer to this —, but you felt a shiver down your spine.

The cold from the room hit you but before it could annoy you, you let your fingertips touch the face of the dead boy.

And as always, you let the darkness beneath what was left from his soul embrace you.

You would once again pay its price.

A life among the nightmares that your own mind created.

You had many bad feelings before, more than you could count, and for a lot of reasons, but this... This felt different. It wasn’t a bad feeling, not at all. It was what you'd been feeling when your fingers found something tormented, which wasn’t hard to find.

The torment was exactly like the rain outside that bar, a cumulonimbus of clouds. Heavy, agitated, and distressed, filled with all the agitated emotions that had been inflicted on them, just waiting for the moment to pour it out.

And so it only happened for you to be the person who was capable to pay attention to their tomentous melody and comprehend it.

Different from other people, even with you wearing your gloves, you sensed something in the stranger’s presence. Not exactly bad, no good either.

You weren’t capable to point a finger at what it was, but it was overwhelming, more than you could bear. Yet, unlike the other times, you also didn’t have the strength to run away from it. In fact, you had to control yourself to not take off your gloves and touch the stranger's shoulder.

“You,” the blonde answered, his smile was addicting, as the shivers all over your skin.

For a second, you thought that he was feeling the same thing you were feeling. Maybe, you weren’t totally alone, it could exist more people like you. Was he someone like you?

Does he also have to face everyone else’s pain?

You opened your mouth, by a breath to ask your questions out loud. However, regardless of his dark lenses, you quickly get where his gaze is upon.

Your bag. The files. The archives about the last three young boys were found without their eyes.

Fucking hell.

“Journalists…” you tsked, rolling your eyes and closing your bag, bringing it to your lap, “Tell me, from which publisher are you?”

For a moment, the blonde seemed stunned. As if bewildered or surprised by how fast the things had turned upside down. In the end, he snickered, fixing his glasses as he tried to find your eyes through his lenses.

“What gave me away?” the blonde questioned in a mockery tone, but you chose to ignore it. You already felt fooled, you didn’t need to be frustrated.

“Maybe you trying to pry at my files?” you quipped a brow, shaking your head, “It shouldn’t surprise me”

“Can’t blame me for trying” he raised his hands, not sorry at all.

You sighed, leaving your bag over the counter and glancing at the man. Only to find him still staring right through you.

“I can’t,” you agreed, “I don't blame you. I've worked for people like yours, so I know what it's like”

The man shook his head, the smile never leaving his features, “I don’t work for people, I work independently”

“At least that.” you nodded, getting up from the counter only to fish a bottle of vodka that Bruce always hid behind the counter, filling your cup with it, “But it means that no boss asked you to pry about the case”

“True,” the blonde led his glass to your direction and, without questioning it, you filled it with the vodka as well.

“So… Why?” you asked, resting your arm at the counter and turning all your attention at the stranger journalist solo.

“Honestly?” the man looked away for a second, tempting his words before saying it.

For him, it was like this conversation was nothing but entertainment. It could be. For you, it was becoming one, that was why you needed the vodka.

“At first, it intrigued me, to not say that it made me curious.” he shrugged, “Usually, the police don’t investigate the death of prostitutes. And when I found out that a detective from theirs was investigating, I wanted to know more, it’s rare for them to care about it”

You shook your head in acknowledgment, “And now? I suppose something changed”

“Yes and no," he drank his vodka in one go, tightening his lips when it burned his throat, "When I came and found you here, I sat and waited for a moment to know why. Like… Why now? But what really surprised me was you reading the archives time and time again instead of getting wasted"

There was something in the stranger's voice, not exactly surprising as he had described it. Disbelief, that's what it was. The kind of one that makes you laugh with a bitter taste in the back of your mouth.

You didn't say anything, more playing with your drink than drinking it.

"You know, I was waiting for you to get drunk until you forgot your own name, ask you about the case to know what you know, and then go away. Maybe, with the files if I was lucky" the man’s sincerity didn't surprise you, you kept stoic as he kept going. He didn't seem annoyed by your silence but motivated to continue, "Wouldn't be the first time I do something like that and, yet, I changed my mind"

“What a good thing to hear,” you sneered, furrowing your brows at that man’s words. At how he didn’t hesitate to say everything that crossed his mind. Even now, he didn’t sound sorry for all that he was about to do but genuine, “Are you only talking to me, right now, out of curiosity?”

“If you say it like that,” he answered, simple as that. When he finished his drink, he went for what was left of your drink and you didn't complain.

“Killing your curiosity, it wasn’t any young boy that died last night,” you muttered, facing how the rain increased outside the bar, “And I insisted in investigating this case, you won’t find any other officers working with me. If only, they go to the scenes with me and that’s it. I’m on my own”

The man with sunglasses shook his head in understanding, finishing with your drink in a flash.

“Is the third young man found dead this month, isn’t it? People have been saying it was creepier than the last ones,” he pouted while voicing his thoughts out loud, you didn’t waste your time to confirm his words. The journalist knew that none of those rumors were wrong, “Yet you seem to be like a dog with a bone”

“Say the one who would try to steal information about the case from me,” you lifted a brow at him, in which he mockingly raised his hands in surrender.

“Would,” he pointed it out and you suppressed a laugh, “But I gave up the moment I saw that look in your eyes”

“That look?” you asked, the man nodded with his smile back on his face, “What look?”

“As if you cried your eyes out”

Fear. Everything left from the body was that one feeling.

A harsh shiver went down your spine followed by another one all over your skin. Your lungs weighted in your chest, pulling you down to your knees to the ground until bruises were left on both of them. The air scraped your throat but didn’t reach your lungs, trapping you in this slow, torturous agony.

You weren’t dying. Not yet. It was fear, the boy’s fear, nothing of that belonged to you.

That wasn’t the feeling of when you are being killed, you had felt it many times before. This one fear was different, the kind of fear you haven't felt in a long time.

Fear sometimes is nothing but a warning of something that is about to happen no matter what you do. A warning that would try to pull you away from the inevitable danger.

You gasped when the cold of a blade pierced your stomach out of nowhere. Slowly, but fast enough to make you feel your body trying to react despite your shock.

“Hey, are you okay?” the blonde held your shoulders gently, trying to call your attention. However, your mind was somewhere else, taking its own time to return.

It didn’t stop there, the person stabbed you- The boy more than once before he died.

And you felt it all. Again and again. Not only when you touched the victim’s face but all day.

You had been feeling them before you snapped back to reality, gazing at the dark lenses of the journalist’s sunglasses.

“Yeah, hm, I’m good” you tried to smile but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, “It just… The victim’s eyes, they were taken, the same thing happened to the other two boys”

“I didn’t mean-” the journalist widened his eyes.

“I know, I considered the idea that you only knew what the rest of the city knows” you tapped the table, feeling your gloves hitting the wood, “the police and the mayor don't want anyone else to know about this”

“For a good reason, I suppose,” he remarked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, tapping the counter in the rhythm of the rain.

Unlike the silences you imposed when talking to Bruce, the one you established between you and the blonde was comforting. It brought you back to the feeling that he understood what you were feeling, or you as you.

It didn’t mean that Bruce didn’t understand you, it was hard to open up with him, that was all. You didn’t want to torment him with the things you had to deal with every day, when there were only you and him, you preferred to drink and think about your cases over the night.

However, with a stranger, all those points were nullified. As it was overwhelming, was soothing.

Like a hug that suffocated you, at the same time, it brought you peace.

“Don’t you detectives… I don’t know, talk about the things you see while working in cases like that?”

The man’s hand never left your shoulder, and you didn’t shove him away.

You huffed, “What are you suggesting, for me to talk about the case and those boys’ death with you? A journalist searching for his headline? How do I even know you won’t take what I already told you and turn it in money?”

“Please,” he snickered at your assumptions, shaking his head, “If I really needed money by going that low, I would have stuck with my plan”

“Why would I even do that anyway?” you stopped tapping the counter and glanced at the blonde, “Or you? Why do you care? I don’t even know your name”

“As I don’t know yours, your colleagues only referred to you as the ‘weird detective’,” the man replied, you weren’t even surprised since you had already heard the nickname in the hallways of the police station, “And for me, that’s okay, you know? I don’t interfere in your business, you don’t interfere in mine, I just have a feeling. It’s strange, I know, but I have a feeling that you need someone to listen to what you see.”

A feeling.

Maybe you weren't so crazy after all.

Still, you were undecided. Pondering the idea while wondering if this would actually be a good one.

“And, who knows, perhaps it can help you to clarify your thoughts about the case, huh?” the man continued, “Am I not a journalist as you said yourself? I can offer you a new point of view, even information if the sun shines upon you”

Finally, you sighed deeply.

Surrendering to the man’s insistence.

“Fine,” you agreed, seeing the man’s smile widen, “But not today”

“Okay, that’s fine for me,” the blonde nodded, getting up from his seat, “Tell me, Detective, do you know the Molina’s Cantina?”

“The Bellaire Boulevard one?” you wondered, he nodded patiently, “I know”

“Good,” the man fixed his sunglasses with a tap, ready to leave the bar despite the rain, “I’ll meet you there tomorrow, at seven o’clock”

You rolled your eyes, turning at your seating until your back was resting at the counter, “What makes you think I won’t stand you up?”

“You won't,” he said it with unshakable certainty, leaving you on the counter just staring at your figure disappearing into the rain.

And, perhaps, for the first time in years, you felt at ease.

“Did I miss something?” Bruce asked as soon as he came back.

Hiding a smile, you answered him with a shake of your head.

However, you weren’t the only one attempting to hold back a smile that night.

The blonde man couldn’t believe how easy it was to manipulate mortals. Years and more years would pass and it would continue to marvel him.

In fact, he didn't even have to try very hard. Things were so much easier when humans took everything they thought of as indisputable facts, and he was more than willing to use that to his advantage.

Yet you weren’t any human, he knew that, he couldn’t wait for you to do that same mistake again. He just got lucky.

He knew that different from the others, you could see what they didn’t.

It could be a problem, for him especially, he was well aware of that. He didn’t lie when he told you what he had in mind before laying his eyes on you, he only omitted the part where he would kill you in the first alley and appreciate your pair of nosy eyes with delight.

But where was the fun in that? He wanted to see how far would you go. At what moment, you, doing what you do, would break yourself beyond repair?

Probably, if that moment came and he couldn’t play with you anymore, then he would kill you.

Until then, he was much more curious to see how things play out.

next chapter.

Taglist: @slashersimp101 (if you want to be add, let me know!)

#the corinthian #the corinthian x reader #corinthian x reader #the sandman x reader #the nightmare nearby

371 notes · View notes

hollybell51 · 2 years ago

Text

I promise

Masterpost

Corinthian x gn!Reader

The Sandman (2022 Netflix series)

Word count: 4814

Summary: having been alone in the Waking World since your departure from the Dreaming, you’re glad to see a familiar and sorely missed face. So is the Corinthian.

Content: no use of (Y/N), use of pet names (“sweetheart”), canon-typical horror elements and referenced violence, referenced murder/gore/violence (it’s the Corinthian guys), drinking (as in drinking a grand total of two alcoholic drinks each), reader is a nightmare, weirdly deep ruminations on the nature of love, pseudo-love confessions (you’ll see). Smut (because I feel like this needs its own category of tags): smut with feelings, oral sex, making out, hickeys, slight possessiveness, slightly pervy Corinthian I guess (???), slightly dom-y reader, slightly dom-y Corinthian, they kinda swap around, maybe I should have just said “switch”, but I mean slightly when I say slightly so I don’t really even think it’s worth labelling, penetrative sex

Notes: I am so attracted to this man it’s actually kind of depressing. Thank you Neil Gaiman and Boyd Holbrook. Also I was quite torn writing this because obviously he's a gay man in the comics which is a huge part of him and very deliberate decision (I really recommend checking out this post) but also the pansexual element of the show, so I've done this as a gender neutral reader so I guess you can take it where you want... anyways, enjoy!

Also I literally could not decide which of the many gorgeous GIFs of this man to put because holy shit he is just so hot in literally everything he does but I like his little "hmf" kinda smile near the end in this one so it's what you get <3

Your phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a notification from the news network.

“Anything good?” the bartender queried as you idly opened it, skimming the headline. You smiled. The Corinthian strikes again, police warn local citizens to exercise caution.

“Must be something,” he continued, seeing your smile.

“No,” you replied.

“So what’s got you smiling?”

“Nothing, really.”

The bartender shrugged, deftly wiping a glass and sliding it into place behind him. You idly spun the plain band of metal that circled your little finger – your promise finger – as you continued scanning the article, looking for anything that might be a clue to you. Apparently the body wasn’t found too far from where you were now, but that wasn’t helpful. He could move fast, and he did. The whole thing was riddled with the usual useless vagaries, police stating that they were working hard and that everyone should just be careful when going out at night. Everything they always said, none of it any more helpful than any other time.

It had been too long since you’d last seen the Corinthian, somewhere around half a century. You’d stopped keeping track of the years when it got to thirty. You hadn’t realised at the time that you wouldn’t be seeing him again, you’d laughed off his talk of the two of you leaving the Dreaming for the Waking World as nothing more than that; talk of grand plans as you lay wrapped in each other's arms, bodies pleasantly exhausted from the night’s activities. He’d held you close, kissed you very gently, then said nothing more on the matter. It wasn’t until you went to look for him later that it sunk in. He’d been serious, and he’d left.

Then, of course, there had been the whole debacle with the ruler of your home simply vanishing one day. You’d thought of the Corinthian, wondered what he was doing. You’d tried to look for him in people’s dreams, but you were a small nightmare and didn’t possess the power he did. And with Lord Morpheus gone, the Dreaming had begun to crumble as people succumbed to what the humans were calling “the sleepy sickness”.

There came a time around the twenty year mark of your king’s absence that you’d caved as many dreams had and slipped quietly into the realm of humanity, sliding through them like a snake through long grass. They fascinated you, and after a while you’d started to see the appeal of living among them. You didn’t exactly see their best side – you were a nightmare, after all, and like attracts like – but nonetheless you gulped every drop of their lives you could get.

You’d become aware of the Corinthian’s little hobby purely by chance, the random drop of a hat – or newspaper, since it was a dirty and battered tabloid blowing across the street in front of you just around a decade ago that had set the ball rolling. His name stood out to you like it was glowing, the description of the crime tactfully vague yet somehow more horrifying because of it cementing in your mind that it was him, that it was your Corinthian. You’d followed it like a hound follows a deer ever since, scouring every discussion, every article, every word printed on it with a comb so fine it was surprising anything at all could even get through. Yet something must have, because here you were, still searching.

“Can I get you something?” the bartender was asking someone, not you. You could feel them slide into the seat beside you, despite the bar being almost empty. Whatever, you wouldn’t be here much longer anyway.

“Whiskey, on the rocks.”

You froze. What were the chances, now, after all this time? You’d always imagined you would be the one to find him, had played out the scenario in your head to no end. You’d find a clue, follow it, everything would fall into place and there he’d be, sitting in a dark corner of a bar or pub, watching people around him through those dark glasses he always wore. You’d slip into the seat beside him just as he was now doing to you. He’d be shocked to see you, he’d give some wonderful explanation as to why he hadn’t come looking for you, then he’d laugh that beautiful laugh of his and shoot you that special admiring grin he reserved just for you. Maybe you’d be coy, maybe you’d give in and slip right back into his arms as if he’d never left.

“Reading something interesting, sweetheart?”

A smile tugged persistently at the corners of your mouth, your stomach flipping at the familiar accent, the beloved pet name. No, it looked like coy was off the table. “Something that reminds me of someone who’s been gone way too long.”

“Cut ‘em some slack,” the Corinthian said, humming appreciatively at the whiskey, “they’ve been busy.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed, finally looking up, “they certainly have.”

He looked the same as the last time you’d seen him, exactly as you’d imagined he would. Dark glasses obscuring his eyes, pale coat, neat swathe of blonde hair cast in gold by the yellow lighting of the bar. And he was smiling at you as he took another sip of his drink, a wide grin that made your heart soar. Shit, you’d missed him more than you’d realised.

“Do you–” you started, just he said “what do you say–”

“Sorry.” You stopped, gesturing for him to continue.

“Should we get out of here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

He nodded, downing the last of his drink and paying the bartender. He glanced from the money to you, then back to the Corinthian. As the realisation dawned, you quickly started to tell him that he didn’t have to pay for you, that you could buy your own long since empty drink, fumbling in your pockets for the money you knew was there but seemed to be eluding you almost deliberately.

“My treat, sweetheart,” the nightmare said, watching you idly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You don’t have to–”

He held up a hand, stopping you mid sentence. “Consider it an apology. For being gone way too long.”

You sighed, giving in. “Alright.”

He nodded, pleased with himself, and offered you his arm. Casting a hasty farewell to the bartender – smiling at what must have looked like a dream couple – you slipped your hand into the crook of the Corinthian’s elbow and allowed him to lead you out onto the dark street. He may have been a nightmare, but nobody could say he wasn’t a gentleman.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“I’m taking you home with me.” Then, at your laugh; “something funny about that?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “The real human experience, huh? Picking someone up from a bar and taking them home.”

“Not just anyone,” he corrected. “Someone real special and real pretty.”

“You do this a lot?” You tried to keep the question light, but something of your thoughts must have come through in your voice.

“Jealous?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shrugged, fighting the heat you could feel creeping up your neck. “No, just curious.”

“Well let me tell you this,” he said softly, bending down close enough that his whiskey scented breath brushed your cheek, “no one can even come close to you.”

“And no one can come close to you,” you replied, ignoring the bolt of warmth the words sent through you. Yep, you’d missed him way more than you realised.

“Do you do this a lot?” he asked, his ever present grin dancing around his mouth.

You shrugged, your hand drifting to his own, much larger one. “The novelty tends to wear off a bit.”

“Oh,” he laughed, “that sounded like a yes to me.”

“Has all your time in the noise of the Waking World clogged up your ears, Corinthian?”

“Maybe, but it’s cleared my head.” The mirth had fled from his features, his brows drawing together seriously. “I didn’t realise how much I’d miss you when I left.”

“Why didn’t you come and find me?”

“I tried. For about the first twenty years or so. I even went back to the Dreaming, but I guess you left before I got there.”

You sighed, bringing your hand up to pull his arm across your shoulders. “I didn’t realise you were serious when you asked me to leave with you. If I knew, I would have come with you.”

“You’re here now,” he shrugged. His fingers stroked yours, hesitating momentarily as he felt the cold metal on your littlest one.

“Yeah. You were right,” you added. “It’s nice to have more than just people’s minds to explore. I like seeing the real things that dreams only echo.”

He hummed in agreement, drawing you closer to his side. He smelled the same as he had when he’d left, dark and woody and if you had to describe it in a word, like something expensive. He smelled like home. If you were uncreated right then and there, you thought, you’d go happily.

“This is me,” he said after a few blocks traversed in comfortable silence. The building wasn’t new, but it wasn’t old either. It wasn’t exactly large, but it wasn’t small. It was just an apartment building in the city, nothing about it really stood out. Except that the Corinthian was opening the door and holding it for you, inviting you inside. And you were going inside, following him into the elevator as you imagined countless humans had done before you. The thought might have disturbed you if it had been anyone but him, but you trusted the nightmare with your very soul and knew that he trusted you in the same way. He would never hurt you, and you would never hurt him.

The elevator dinged, you followed him down the corridor. He opened the door, you followed him inside. He took your coat, the strange intimacy of the gesture sending shivers down your spine as you watched him hang it beside his own, letting your eyes linger on the perfect way his muscles moved under his skin, the smoothness and preciseness of each movement. Even if you didn’t know it was true, you’d have believed anyone who told you he was hand sculpted by a God. More than a God, in fact; an Endless.

“Take a seat. Can I get you another drink?” he asked as he moved to the kitchen, his fingers trailing lightly over the bench top.

“Sure,” you said, settling yourself on a stool. “Surprise me.”

He shot you another grin, deftly pouring a glass of wine as red as blood and sliding it across to you. You didn’t catch the label, but something about it made you think it was probably the fancy kind. The Corinthian loved fancy things, and he loved giving them to you. You remembered the Dreaming, how no matter where you went you were sure to find beautiful little gifts left for you in his wake. What you wouldn’t give to relive that time, when it had been you and him and nothing between you but space, which could easily be crossed.

He came around to your side of the bench, leaning against it with his own glass in hand. He watched you take a sip, satisfaction tugging at the corner of his mouth as you made a faint sound of pleasure. Yeah, you’d been right, this was the good stuff. He’d always liked seeing you receive things he gave you, another thing that didn’t seem to have changed.

“So,” he said after a few minutes’ silence in which you drank sip for sip, savouring the richly layered flavours and aromas.

“So,” you echoed. He was close enough that you could see every detail of him, and every detail of yourself reflected in those dark glasses, like two pools of black on his face. Even if you couldn't see his eyes – or mouths, you supposed – you could feel the intensity of his gaze, sending shivers down you spine. Then he leaned down, brushing your lips with his so lightly and quickly that you weren’t even sure he’d actually done it. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, blood rushing in your ears as he drew closer still, and this time you were sure. He kissed you with all the warmth and care that he always had, his lips silken as they’d always been against yours. The soft “clink” of his glass being set gently on the table barely registered with you as his hands slid up your thighs, over your hips, around your waist.

You pulled away softly, taking a moment to catch your breath and place your own drink far enough back on the counter that you weren’t at risk of knocking it over. The Corinthian watched you, a faint furrow marring his brow.

“Come here,” you said softly, holding out your hands to him. He pushed himself off the bench, standing directly before you in all his towering glory. You’d almost forgotten just how tall he was, but you were starkly reminded now. He let you place your hands on his face, sighing at the contact as you smiled. Just as he pressed his cheek into your palm, your fingers skirted deftly to his glasses. You hesitated, then at his near imperceptible nod, drew them away. You folded them neatly, slowly, setting them on the bench beside the two half drunk wine glasses. Then you turned back to him, smiling.

His face had been the second you ever saw, and as such, it would never be anything other than beautiful in your mind. He’d been there when Morpheus had breathed life into you, he’d been there in the beginning when you were learning how to live and he would be there at the end when you were finished, you were sure of it. Truth be told, you’d never really understood why he kept his glasses on even when it was just the two of you. When pressured, he simply shrugged and said “habit” in that nonchalant tone of his, but you saw the way he nearly cringed away from you the first time you’d removed the dark lenses. He was apprehensive even now, the idea that something in his very being could elicit such visceral reactions from humans – even you, nightmare as you were – deeply ingrained into his psyche. It wasn’t fair, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t resent Morpheus just a little. He hadn’t given either of you a choice in what you were, but at least you didn’t have to hide a part of yourself that was so significant as your eyes. They were the windows to the soul, after all.

“Beautiful,” you whispered, stretching up to place a kiss on each of his little mouths, then returning once more to his real mouth. He was smiling too, you could feel it. The whole thing was slow and warm and soft as your hands ran over his jaw, his cheeks, his neck, finally fixing in his soft hair. He was pulling you towards him, so hard you were almost entirely standing on the floor now, your butt just touching the stool you’d been sitting on.

“Come on,” he murmured between kisses, taking your hand. “I got somewhere better than the kitchen.”

You allowed him to lead you through a narrow doorway, down a short corridor and into a modest bedroom. You’d barely set foot through the door before he was on you again, hungrier and more insistent this time. You gave as good as you got, pushing him back across the carpeted floor until his knees hit the edge of the bed and he sat down with a soft “oof”, pulling you with him. You settled into place as if you’d never left, straddling his hips with your hands tangled in the front of his shirt.

You attacked his neck with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, fighting not to moan yourself at the sounds he was making. The muscles of his throat flexed and twitched under your ministrations, a growing hardness forming where your hips met his. You ground softly against him, humming at the heat it conjured.

“Shit darlin’,” he groaned as you sucked at a spot right over his jugular. “You’re so, hm, good.”

“Hm?” you drew back, observing the scattering of dark marks you’d left on his skin before reattaching your lips to his own. He was yours, all yours. You pulled his hair lightly, stifling his moan with your mouth. He knew exactly what his words were doing to you.

“Take this off,” he whispered, tugging at your shirt.

“You do it,” you replied.

He drew back, stilling your hands. “Stand up,” he told you. “Stand up and take your clothes off.”

You paused for a moment, then smiled and did as he asked. “This is new,” you said as you shed layer after layer of your garments until you were bare and they were in a pile on the floor, watching his face carefully.

He shrugged. “I like watching humans do it, figured it’d be a million times better with you.”

“And?”

“I was right,” he grinned. Many people, you knew, would have felt self conscious in your position. Hell, you’d felt it when taking off your clothes in front of humans you took to your bed a few times, despite the fact that it wasn’t supposed to be in your nature. You were a nightmare, a creature beyond them, and you had been crafted by an Endless just as the Corinthian had. But it had been there. Now, however, you felt a warm glow spread through you as his toothy gaze scanned your body, drinking it in like he was a man dying of thirst. You felt seen with him, for who you were.

You returned his grin, leaning forward to place your hands on his thighs. His fingers cupped your jaw, gently enough that you were still able to sink to your knees at the edge of the bed and begin undoing his belt buckle. You’d felt how hard he was sitting on his lap, and right now you wanted nothing more than the warm weight of his cock in your mouth.

“Can I?” you asked softly, your face inches from his crotch.

He didn’t answer, his gaze fixed on your hand. Or more specifically, the band of metal around your finger. “Still got it,” he whispered, almost in awe.

“Yeah,” you said, “of course I do.” The ring had been one of his many gifts, but it was perhaps your most treasured. He’d slipped it onto your finger back in the Dreaming as you lay against his chest, covering your hand with kisses. When you’d asked what it was he’d told you it was promise, though you’d never found out what the promise was for.

Now, he shook his head in wonder and smiled. You could’ve just sat and looked at that smile forever.

“So…?” you prompted instead, your hands still resting lightly on his crotch.

“Go ahead,” he told you. His fingers tangled gently in your hair as you took his dick in your hands, licking the tip ever so gently. “Stop teasing, sweetheart,” he said breathily.

“Magic word?” you murmured, your breath ghosting over his hot skin.

“Please,” he grunted. You smiled, licking your lips before sinking down on him, hollowing your cheeks and sucking.

“Alright?” you asked as he gasped, his fingers tightening in your hair.

The Corinthian nodded. “Don’t stop.”

You nodded too, going down on him again. You were mindful of your teeth, instead using mostly your tongue and your hands where your mouth wouldn’t fit. He was familiar, this was familiar, but you would hate to choke on him because you were too enthusiastic about sucking him off. But you needn’t have worried, it was like listening to a song from when you were younger, the Corinthian’s heavy breathing and hand in your hair guiding you in the familiar movements. You could never forget this, no matter how much time had passed.

You let a moan escape you, which in turn made his hips jolt. You hummed again, and his hold on your hair tightened.

“That’s it sweetheart,” he whispered. “You look so good.”

That really made you moan, an embarrassingly desperate sound to accompany the embarrassingly desperate way your thighs rubbed together in search of any friction. He was driving you insane, and you were completely helpless.

You didn’t stop your increasingly messy sucking and licking, completely enraptured by the little breaths and gasps your attention was conjuring from the nightmare, revelling in his hand in your hair and the occasional curses or words of praise he let slip. You probably could have stayed there forever, listening to him forever, feeling his hot weight in your mouth forever, if he hadn’t brought his hand to your face and gently eased you off him. He surveyed your face carefully, running his thumb across your reddened and swollen lips.

“Hm?” you asked, parting your lips to allow his fingers into your mouth. You sucked lightly, keeping eye contact the whole time.

“Come up here,” he told you, patting his lap.

“If I get to take your clothes off,” you replied. “It’s hardly fair that I’m here naked and you look like you just walked in.” That was a gross exaggeration, between the hickeys on his neck and his dishevelled hair he certainly did not look like he'd just walked in.

“Just walked in, huh?” he raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly at his rock hard dick shining with your spit.

“Maybe not just,” you yielded. “Either way, it’s not fair.”

“Cause you’ve always been so big on fair.” It came out as mocking, but there was softness in his face as he said it. Yes, you were big on fairness, something he knew very well. How many of your rants about what was fair had he endured? How many had he cut short with kisses, and how many more had he simply nodded along with until you were finished before producing some trinket or other that would distract you until the next slight of justice occurred?

Either way, he didn’t resist as you pulled his shirt over his head, and offered assistance when you eased his pants and underpants off his legs. Only when he was naked before you did you resume your earlier place straddling his hips. You ran your hands over his smooth, warm chest, down his arms, back up again and then down once more over the subtle planes of his stomach. His body reacted to your touch instinctively, goosebumps forming in the wake of your hands, his breath hitching in his throat.

Your insides clenched as he spat into his hand, adding to the wetness already coating his dick. He glanced at you, a silent “are you ready?”, then at your breathed “yes” and lifted hips, slid into you. It was like a missing piece had fallen into place. You’d had others in his absence, but what you’d said to him earlier had been true; they’d all paled compared to him. He fit inside you perfectly, a blissful stretch and familiar, beloved burn as your bodies adjusted to each other after too long apart.

He whispered your name like a prayer, lightly kissing your neck before settling in the hollow where it met your shoulder. “You feel too good,” he whispered. “I can’t believe I forgot how good you feel.”

“Me too,” you sighed, then rocked your hips over his. His fingers dug into your flesh as you moved, guiding you and bracing himself all at once. He continued to deliver the same wet, open-mouthed kisses to your neck and collar bone as you’d given him earlier, leaving a trail of dark marks behind. Shit, how you’d missed those. Nothing could even come close to how he did this with you. Just as he was yours, you were his. All his and nobody else’s.

You reached between the two of you, touching yourself as the Corinthian’s dick slid seamlessly in and out of you, every movement an explosion of pure bliss. His teeth grazed your skin and you pressed your lips together, frantically stifling the moan that threatened to burst from you.

“Don’t try to be quiet,” he said. “I wanna hear you.”

“Ok,” you panted, breaking off in another moan. The sound seemed to spur him to go harder, faster, the warmth of his mouth on your neck combined with his hands on your hips and his cock in you almost too much to bear.

The sensation built in your stomach, gradually more and more until you felt a single tear leak from your eye. The Cotinthian was holding you so close to him he may as well have been trying to absorb your body into his, his sweat and spit mixing where his face was pressed into your shoulder as he frantically delivered more hickeys to your skin. You would be covered in them come morning. He whispered your name, every syllable like a prayer as it fell from his lips. He twitched inside you, and you shivered involuntarily.

“Yes,” you hissed, reaching down once more to touch yourself. He spilled with a curse inside you, his head falling back and his eyes closed. Fuck, he was gorgeous, and you’d brought him undone.

Your own climax flooded through you, all your muscles tensing together at once, a shuddering, desperate cry of his name torn from your throat. You rode him through your combined pleasure, until your legs were no longer shaking and his breathing had evened out.

Yet still, neither of you moved.

The Corinthian rested his forehead against your chest, his arms circling your waist. You held him, his hair tickling your face and neck where it brushed against you. He gently kissed over the dark marks he’d left on your skin, soothing and warm, and you let your lips rest against the silk of his hair. Even with sweat beeding his skin and the whole room smelling of sex, he still smelled good, like home. You couldn't get enough.

Eventually, he pulled out of you, lifting your boneless body onto the bed beside him. You whined at the loss of contact, but he simply smiled and assured you that he was just getting you a towel, that he’d be back in a minute. He kept his word, returning and gently wiping over your skin before sliding onto the mattress beside you.

You wriggled sideways, laying your head on his chest where you could feel his heart beating under your cheek. This was the part where most humans fell asleep, but you didn’t. You were a nightmare, and nightmares didn’t sleep.

The Corinthian’s arm snaked around you, his fingers lacing with your own. This, you thought, is what love must be like. You’d given the matter a lot of thought since you’d arrived in the Waking World and had come to the conclusion that Lord Morpheus probably hadn’t made you to love. You were to scare humans, force them to confront their fears and darker selves, not to love. Maybe dreams could, but you didn’t think it was something for nightmares.

Still, you’d devoured all the resources on the subject that you could. Humans didn’t seem to know what it was either, and had very different opinions on the matter. You wanted to love the Corinthian, and some would say that in itself was the real thing. Others would say that you loved him because you’d missed him so much, others still would say that you couldn’t love him because love was what made them human and you certainly were not human. Maybe it was love, maybe it wasn’t. But anyone who saw the two of you now, twined together so tightly you were nothing more than a mess of limbs would have thought it was.

“If we can…” you started, licking your lips, unsure of yourself. “If we can love, I love you.”

He was quiet for a moment, then he drew your hand to his lips and kissed it softly, running his fingers over the ring. “And I love you. I promise.”

“I don’t want you to leave again,” you whispered.

“I won’t.” The Corinthian leaned over, flipping you onto your back and pressing your still linked hands into the mattress. “I promise,” he said, kissing you softly. “I promise I won’t ever leave you again.”

“Alright,” you replied. You kissed him, softly and sweetly, basking in the warmth of his body pressing down on you and pleasant heaviness of your own. If he ever asked you to go somewhere with him, you told yourself silently, you would. You’d never let him go again.

HOW HOT IS HE AND WHY IS HE THIS HOT it's genuinely unfair

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