r0byn-the-reader

[r0byn-the-reader]

Hello all well ? I couldn't help but want more of your beautiful story.😍😍

could give us more Morpheus and reader (Imagine being the one who frees Morpheus), where the people adore their new queen but morpheu thinks that I don't fulfill all the duties with his love, he didn't even ask her to marry him or had a coronation, but reader is calm about it.pleases thanks

[Check out the series HERE] || Sandman-inspired playlist

For the record, you weren't an actual queen as in the bride of a king. Despite that, the inhabitants of Dreaming collectively decided to treat you like one and soon you had found yourself to be part of the court hierarchy. Not that you could ever complain about such honour - you received a lot of love and respect for simply giving advice or asking someone to consider their grudge from a different perspective. To the inhabitants of Dreaming, who were used to Morpheus's just but strict reign, a droplet of sweetness and tenderness seemed to be like water is to a cotton-mouthed man.

Morpheus might have appeared oblivious to your social 'promotion' but he was perfectly aware of it. To his dismay, no one ever outright informed him that you have allowed or done something without his council, even if those were small, fairly insignificant matters in the grand scheme of an entire realmn. Morpheus had to rely on his own observations and whispers that seemed to completely disappear whenever he was around. In any case, he had realized that there existed an entire world he was not privy to when he heard someone excitedly whisper 'Our queen' for the very first time. Dreaming did not, in fact, have a queen. Not officially, at least.

Your selflessness captured his heart, which was obvious, but it had also, quite literally, killed you for a moment. Maybe it was his fear of losing you for good or his sympathy towards the struggles you had suffered on his accord, that made Morpheus adamant about having you think solely of yourself for the first time in your life, to finally be at peace after everything you had been through. As one might expect, his desire surely did not include having you fulfil part of his royal duties. The guilt gnawed at him until one day Morpheus found himself unable to ignore the current state of affairs.

He was marching through the crystal halls of his palace prepared to dress you in silk and diamonds or do anything else that would somehow compensate for the bland weight of ruling you had on your shoulders. If he could, if you allowed him to, he'd tear it right off and break his own spine accommodating it.

Morpheus's rushed footsteps suddenly stopped when he noticed you standing on the balcony, leaning against the marble ledge. Your back was turned to him and for a moment he indulged in his selfish desires; watching your dress gently dance on the warm breeze, he wondered whether there truly was something divine about you. Maybe, if he asked nicely, you could tell him what heaven is like as you sure know it like the back of your hand. Or perhaps spring, the mother of hope and rebirth, had recognized its own face in yours, telling the wind and the sun to warm you on cold days. But if you were spring, like Persephone, was he not akin to Hades?

Such thought made him shudder. The quicker he solves his plight, the faster this feeling of dread and shame will dissolve. In fact, it seemed like blasphemy to experience something so bitter and bleak while you were within his arm's reach.

Hearing footsteps against the marble floor, you slightly turned around to see who had decided to visit you. Although the sight of Morpheus did excite your heart, the grim expression on his face, a shadow that towered over his regal beauty, quickly calmed the thrill inside you.

"You should not be fulfilling my duties for me," he stated. Strangely enough, he sounded angry.

Unable to tell what could sour his mood like that, you furrowed your eyebrows. "I'm sorry for upsetting you, Morpheus, although I have to be honest that I do not know what duties you're speaking of. I never meant to cross you, dear."

Morpheus didn't answer. He made his way towards you and did not stop walking until the tips of his shoes were brushing against yours. So far, you couldn't quite tell whether he was oblivious to a certain social etiquette or simply liked being so close to you.

His ocean-like eyes bore into you as if he was trying to enter your own mind and make himself at home there. If you were asleep, perhaps he could but you were awake and that forced him to actually speak his thoughts, although reluctantly: "Are you happy here?"

"What makes you ask that?"

Morpheus pursed his lips at your answer. Perhaps he was expecting a slightly different reaction from you - one that did not include voicing his introspection and making friends with vulnerability. "You tend to my subjects, bring order and prosperity into Dreaming, and yet I have failed to give a wedding worthy of a queen. You are bearing the weight of the crown without its splendour. It is unfair towards you."

"Have you considered that I simply want to spend time with your subjects?" you asked him with a gentle smile. Ever since he sought you out on the cold beach, you've learned that Morpheus cared a lot. Probably more than he himself was capable of understanding. His problem, however, was adequately expressing it. "Treat them as my peers, help them in their plights. You can't be everywhere all the time, Morpheus. Let me help you, just a little."

But he remained unconvinced. "A queen should wear a crown, have the king at her beck and call. The people of the realm shall praise their gods for being allowed in her vicinity." As he spoke, Morpheus reached to gently grab your hand and put it against his chest and though he was a child swearing by their own honesty. His thumb absentmindedly brushed against your skin. "It surely did not escape your attention that I have failed at granting you the honour and glory you deserve."

"The crowns, the dresses, the jewels - they're all very nice but what real difference do they make?" you asked. The question must have elicited some kind of reflection from him as his thumb stopped its soothing movement. "Strip all of that away and there remains only you and I. Believe me when I say, that I need nothing more and wish for nothing less."

His once bleak expression turned into something more gentle as though the yearning of his heart refused to remain hidden any longer. "My heart tells me to drown you in indescribable wealth and yet my mind tells me to let you be as you wish." As it appeared, such dissonance and lack of clarity were exceptionally rare for Morpheus. Gently and somewhat fearfully, he rested his forehead against yours. "How can you, a human, hold so much power over me?" he whispered.

A quiet giggle escaped your mouth. "I believe people refer to it as 'being in love'."

He felt his breath hitch as your lips softly kissed his forehead.

[r0byn-the-reader]

Imagine accidentally summoning Morpheus

The cardboard box had your name written on it in sharpie and judging by the amount of dust collected on the lid, it must have been waiting for you for at least a decade. According to your grandmother, everything inside was a remnant of your early childhood when she would take care of you when your parents couldn't. All of it was waiting for the day you become an adult and, to your grandmother's nostalgic dissatisfaction, that day had come a little faster than she wished.

Upon opening the box and coughing up your lungs with the old dust, you heard yourself gasp at the very first thing you lay your eyes on: a music box.

"Please, tell me you still work," you whispered to yourself as you hurriedly took it out.

The enamel was chipped away in many places but not enough to make the trinket in any way ugly. Its black paint and golden decorations took you back to all the sleepless nights when your grandmother would wind the music box up and let it play your insomnia away. "You'll be asleep before the song ends," she used to assure you. And she never once was wrong.

Carefully, you lifted the porcelain-covered lid. Inside, the figurine of a black raven was still taking flight, even after all those years when it was hidden away in a cardboard box somewhere between Christmas decorations and VHS tapes no one watched anymore. The inside of the music box was just as dark as the outside except for the tiny, white dots that were meant to resemble stars as though the black bird was always flying away into the night sky.

You turned the winding key countless times or so it seemed. When you felt that it wouldn't turn anymore, you excitedly retracted your hand, expecting the sweet melody of childhood to resound in your ears once more.

The raven figurine turned slowly as the equally slow melody began playing. Curiously, you never did learn what song it was as you have never heard it anywhere else. A grimace appeared on your face as you listened to the high-pitched, bright sounds: the melody in minor key sounded a lot darker, creepier, than you remembered it. Maybe the fang of time had already gnawed on the music box? Perhaps it was simply out of tune and you had to find someone capable of fixing it.

"Why have you summoned me?"

The low voice behind you made you fall over. Scurrying away in fear, you turned around only to see a tall, thin man in a long coat. His hair was dishevelled and its dark, raven-like shade made his pasty skin appear only lighter. Suddenly, you noticed the air in your bedroom smelling somewhat sweet and stale like fruit in an antique bookshop. His blue eyes remained strangely expressionless as he stared at you.

Even if you did know what to say, you were physically incapable of doing so. Who was he? How did he get in? And what on Earth did he mean by 'summon'? Your heart was thundering in your chest and you quickly began feeling trouble catching your breath. Fearful blankness wove a nest in your thoughts. A cold sweat run down your back.

"I know your face," he spoke again as he slowly walked towards you, "although long years had gone by since I last saw you."

Your back hit the wall - there was nowhere else to run from the stranger. He, to your horror, only continued his stroll in your direction. Panting, you looked around if there was anything you could use to defend yourself from the trespasser but a cardboard lid wasn't a weapon in any way or meaning. As it befits prey, you simply waited.

But his hand was never once raised against you. When the stranger stood right in front of you, he silently extended reached his arm to you to help you get up. With great hesitation, you took it.

"I must confess I did harbour some hope that you might remember me," he said once you had gotten up. "Alas, we are strangers once more."

You didn't believe him, not for a second. Had you ever met such an odd men, equally intimidating as he was gentle, you'd surely remember him or at least recognize his features as familiar. But you did not.

In a trembling voice, you managed to stutter out a response: "I have no idea who you are... sir."

For a moment, he appeared somewhat upset, vacantly looking towards the floor. "I know," he quietly answered in a raspy voice.

[r0byn-the-reader]

My Peter, Pt. 2 - Peter Parker x Reader

Spoilers - Spider-Man: No Way Home

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[r0byn-the-reader]

My Peter Pt. 1 - Peter Parker x Reader

Spoilers!: Spider-Man No Way Home

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[r0byn-the-reader]

Apple Of My Eye

Pairing: Tobey! Peter Parker x fem!reader

genre: fluff

Sumary: After an eye exam, reader is worried sick. But it's nothing her best friend (and crush) Peter Parker can't fix with a slice of pizza after a sweet phone call.

Word count. 2k+

[A/N]: This is my first fic so comments and feedback are very welcome! Hope you enjoy!

“Don't worry, don't worry, don't worry”. - You were just walking home from your eye exam, your voice cracked as you whispered to yourself those words over and over like a mantra. Truth be told, it wasn't working at all, you had a certain feeling that the results weren’t good and that made you worried sick.

Even if your current glasses helped you transform the world in front your eyes from a mess of smudged shapes to something somewhat definable, you had to admit that sunlight and screens still hurt your eyes and that it was evident that the only way you could read now is by squinting, with books comically close to your face.

You thought this was embarrassing, really. It had taken you years to accept the fact that you needed glasses in the first place. Wiping tears from your eyes you tried to distract yourself from the painful memories of just about every type of sports ball crashing against your face during primary school's P.E, and all the humiliating slips and falls on the school yard's concrete floor. At least that was better than the glasses breaking in your face and blinding you permanently, or so you thought at the time.

A self-pity chuckle left your lips as you listed in your mind the few other reasons why you decided to stop wearing glasses for good by sixth grade: Other kids would call you a “nerd” and as an already “weird kid” you didn’t want another label that would make you a target of Flash's clique, that and the fact that you were sick of always having to fix them with tape after an accident only for them to bend and break again.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize you arrived home, but you were glad you did as you wanted nothing more than to take a nap and forget about this whole ordeal for a moment. With your parents off to work you had the house to yourself and nothing could stop you from being annoyed at you past self for saying over and over that you “didn’t need glasses” and telling everyone else that you had laser surgery. What a stupid lie!

You let yourself flop on the bed and took your glasses off to clean the tears that smudged them. Doing so didn’t bother you as much anymore. The only thing that worried you now was if that reckless decision from past you had worsened your eyesight, since your eyes were not fit for contacts, it was frames or nothing.

But that didn’t matter now. With a deep sigh you reminded yourself that now you didn’t mind being called a “nerd” anymore (not that it happened much anyway) and that life was, ironically, getting better in high school. After all, people were not as intense during P.E. but most importantly, it was a new school where you met your wonderful friends that made you feel accepted and loved.

And no other person in the world made you feel that way more than Peter Parker. He was the sweetest guy you’ve ever met! Always so kind and willing to help anytime any science subject was impossible to understand for you.

Always so exited to share new, interesting facts about the latest paper he had researched for class, with bright blue eyes full of wonder framed in his black glasses that gave him a handsome look and a soft voice that warmed the heart…

You snapped back to reality stopping your train of thought in its tracks. It was true, you had a crush on your best friend, and it was one of the things you didn’t try to lie to yourself about. You were thankful for his presence in your life time and time again. You found impressive how only thinking of him and the friendship you shared was enough to make you go from miserable and scared to having blushing cheeks and a little smile on your face.

And he probably had absolutely no idea he did that. Peter had always been your rock and was one of the reasons you felt more confident with wearing framed glasses. Because even on the days you felt you looked “nerdy” he came along and proved that being one wasn’t necessary lame, and made you feel better about yourself.

You weren’t exactly certain if you should tell him all that, while you didn’t deny to yourself that you liked Peter platonically and romantically, you didn’t want to scare him and lose him as a friend if he didn’t feel the same. Nevertheless, you still wanted to thank him for being a stellar friend, so you decided to call him.

Your heart seemed to want to jump off your chest as the phone rang exactly once before Peter picked up. He didn’t even have time to say hello when your excited voice came through the line:

“Thank you so much!” You sounded so happy, Peter blushed at the thought of your smile and how cheerful your tone was. You could hear Peter's own smile through the phone as he responded an adorable “you're very welcome, but what are you thanking me for?” with the soft and caring voice you have grown to love. Confusion turned to glee as you thanked him for always being there as an amazing friend and helping with science subjects and being such a kind dude and proving that being a nerd is cool.

He needed a moment to process all that. Phone calls with his best friend were not that common, as they spend most of their time together at school or the library, and while they always showed each other platonic love and often had heart to heart conversations, Peter still went weak at the knees when she gave him a compliment. Being showered in them had him over the moon. Could it be true that his secret crush reciprocated his feelings? He felt like he was about to pass out.

After thanking your heart out to him you were met with nothing but silence from Peter. Worried you went a little too far and that your admiration was way closer to a romantic type instead of a platonic type, you froze. How embarrassing! He must have felt weirded out and uncomfortable! Obviously, he doesn’t like you back and-

Your panicked thoughts were interrupted by his frantic stutter “oh! - um well that’s… that’s great! I love being your friend and helping you. I wasn’t… wasn’t expecting that, that’s all. -He felt silly, being all tongue-tied just because his crush told him she found him cool. He wasn't really paying attention to his own babbling as he tried to steady his breathing.

- “Honestly Peter, you even manage to cheer me up after a bad day even if you aren’t next to me.” You said, calming down at his response.

He was so relieved that he had managed to spit out something understandable that it took him a few seconds to register your words. You said something about a bad day? - “Wait, is there something wrong?” his tone was more serious now, and it melted your heart how that showed that you were important to him.

- “Yeah...” You said sitting in your bed. The phone cord doing its best to stretch from your desk - “it’s not that big of a deal I just had my sight tested and I'm worried that my vision is getting worse, specially after not using glasses for a while…”

Peter frowned a bit, not completely understanding what you mean, but he knew it couldn’t be good given how your voice now sounded somber. And even though he was nervous to even ask, he decided that the best way to help you is to talk it through in person, so he took a deep breath and in one go, suggested you both could go out for pizza.

You smiled at that. Is there anything Peter Parker could do that you didn’t find cute or funny? In the end, you spent a few more minutes talking and agreed that you would eat the pizza at your place. You were hesitant to change the original plan, but you felt lonely at home and didn’t feel like retelling your childish middle school drama in a public place.

Thankfully, Peter didn’t seem to mind at all, and you were so happy that he didn’t see you as pushy as you thought you were. He assured you he would be there in half an hour with your favorite pizza and both of you hung up with butterflies in your stomachs.

You tidied up your room not even caring to suppress your giggles and rushed to apply the tiniest bit of lip-gloss and a cute, casual outfit. It wasn’t a date, you knew it wasn’t, but it has been a rollercoaster of a day and you would not deny yourself any bit of fun from this moment on. Besides, Peter would never notice. As smart as that boy was, he was oftentimes oblivious when in came to what was in front of him. You weren’t sure if you should like that, but you did.

Meanwhile, Peter couldn’t decide between wearing a nice shirt with a tie or just a tee, bouncing with excitement he knew he needed to hurry up with that pizza. It wasn’t a date, he knew it wasn’t, but that was a rollercoaster of a call, and he felt the need to show in every aspect (including his appearance) that he took your problems seriously. After all, he was not going to waste an opportunity of looking good for you, as there was a possibility you may notice. He wasn´t sure if it was worth it, but it was.

After getting ready, Peter practically ran downstairs and tried to hurriedly tell his aunt and uncle that he would be back for dinner before being stopped as he skipped through the living room. “Hold on just a minute champ!” -Said uncle Ben with a knowing smile on his face- “you cannot go to a lady's place looking like that” he said while pointing to his wrinkled shirt and unmatching tie. Peter looked at his clothes then at his uncle and then at the door, he didn’t know what to do and he felt that he was running out of time. Why did he had to say he'll be there in just 30 minutes?!

“But uncle Ben- ““No buts Peter, your uncle is right” aunt May chimed in- “a gentleman always shows the best version of himself” and with that May took a very worried Peter back to his room to iron his shirt and find a matching tie while uncle Ben bought the pizza. Ten minutes later, the pizza was waiting in the passenger seat of uncle Ben's car and Peter looked more charming than ever before.

It was only after he got dressed again that it dawned on him that his aunt and uncle knew where he was going. And when he asked his aunt about it, May simply responded that no other person made his voice go that high pitched and that they heard him talk about pizza. “She is a very sweet girl. Take good care of her, Peter” she said walking him to the car. He smiled and promised he would after thanking her for the ironing.

“But I don’t know if she likes me back” Peter said sheepishly as his uncle drove him to her apartment a few blocks away. It was efficient, as they could still make in on time and the pizza stayed hot. The conversation as to why were they driving to his best friend’s house on a random day was short and simple, but soon evolved into Peter's feelings. “I wouldn’t worry about that. Just be you and if it’s meant to happen it will happen. Be on the lookout for any hints the girl may give you, ladies always have subtle ways to show if they are interested in you”. They arrived just in time.

When you opened the door both of you were taken aback by how stunning the other one looked. Your outfit was perfect. Peter noticed right away how it complimented your shiny lips, and thought you looked stunning, while you were internally screaming at how handsome he looked with a black tie.

Peter broke the silence first not really knowing how to smoothly compliment you despite desperately wanting to. “You look good”. “So do you” you responded sincerely, not breaking eye contact. He was so handsome the intimacy of the act was terrifying yet also addictive, somehow. After that, it was pizza time. Or more accurately, quality time with Peter and some pizza. You spend the night telling him about your worries with your eyesight and why they came to be between pizza bites and soda sips, and he listened closely as to not miss one detail, making you feel like the most important person in the world.

Three years of friendship washed away any nervousness you had, feeling right at home with him, and he felt loved and cherished by your need for his advice. When you finished telling him your fears, you were on the verge of crying, so he placed the empty pizza boxes on your desk to make room to the both of you and embraced you in the warmest of hugs.

“I feel so stupid! For letting Flash and the others to mess with my head…” you sobbed. Hearing you cry broke Peter's heart so he reassured you in whispers as he rubbed circles on your back “you’re not stupid. I think is impossible for you to be stupid. You understand science subjects perfectly after only a few tries! And other things like history and literature have always been your element.”

Peter always said the sweetest things, you wondered again if he really didn’t know the effect it had on you. As you smiled to yourself, he carried on: “…Besides you know that Flash has always been a jerk and could not differentiate hydrochloric acid from sodium chloride even if his life depended on it”.

That made you laugh, classic Peter always able to make you feel good about yourself in his own nerdy way that you loved to bits. blowing the snot from your nose with his handkerchief, rolling your eyes at how unattractive you must have sound you straighten yourself from his embrace to look at him in the eyes.

Icy blue, so full of life, the twinkle in them making you want to stare at them forever. You imagined your eyes were as black as his and smiled as you confessed one of your biggest secrets to him. Everything felt right, you were safe with him, and if you grew closer to him, little by little, maybe you´ll have the courage to confess your crush one day. For now, you were taking it slow.

You swallowed discretely. “You know Peter…”- you began with your softest voice- “you are the reason I started to wear glasses again. I didn’t mind being called a nerd anymore because it meant that I was school-smart and knowledgeable… like you”.

Peter Parker was certain that he had died and went to heaven. He never could have imagined about your “break” and now it turns out that he gave you the confidence to wear them? This to him proved that he was as important to you as you were to him. As if on cue, he adjusted his own glasses and gave you a goofy smile.

Entranced by your slow blinks and profound stare he told you that he was honored- really, he was! - about being a big motivator for your confidence. Then, he offered to take you to the eye clinic where you got your exam to help you pick your new frames in case you needed a new prescription.

“There is nothing to worry about! We are still not certain that you need a different prescription, but even if you do, it's not your fault and I’ll be with you the whole way through” he said with his chin comfortably on the top of your head. You were hugging again and there was no other place you'd rather be, two hearts beating as one, your hand in his with your glasses next to it to lay more comfortably next to him.

You both slowly closed your eyes as you fell harder for each other. Peter couldn’t find it in himself to move as you snuggled closer against his chest, worries long forgotten. Even though he promised uncle Ben and aunt May he was going to be home for dinner, he decided that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he napped with you for a moment.

Hugging you to his heart's content he didn’t want to be anywhere else. You made a vague mental note to wake him up in an hour before your parents came home as you drifted off to sleep.

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #tobey!peter x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction