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pinksirensong · 22 hours ago

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Lemon Pies & White Lies

coworker!clark kent x fem!reader, first kiss, 2.4k words

a/n: two clark kent fics in one week?? woah

It had started with little things.

Your coffee order, warm, on your desk before you got into work. A spare pen when you ran out of ink. A folded Post-it with your name on it stuck to your printed pages when you forgot them on the copier tray, which happened more often than not. Nothing huge. Just small acts of kindness.

Which made sense, when you thought about it. Clark was nothing if not kind.

Clark Kent, with his too-big heart and flannel shirts and oversized suits. Clark Kent, with his frequent front-page articles, who blushed to the tips of his ears when someone complimented his writing. Clark Kent, who was way too perceptive for his own good, always watching from behind his crooked glasses.

You had a crush on him. Of course you did, even though he was kind like that to everyone. You couldn't help it. You felt safe around him. You knew nothing would ever come of it, what with his constant disappearances and focus on work.

It was just an office crush. That was what you told yourself. So when you casually mentioned to Lois that you might stop by the office party on the rooftop bar that night, you had no idea he'd been nearby, or that he'd even been listening. Especially after what he'd said, that he was too busy for office parties, that they weren't really his scene. That maybe next year, he'd think about it.

So when you pushed through the glittering rooftop crowd that night, drink in hand, breath fogging in the crisp Metropolis air—and saw him? You stopped mid-step.

Clark Kent. In a soft navy sweater and brown coat that you sort of wanted to bury your face into, that probably smelt like him. Glasses slipping down his nose, cheeks pink from the cold, a glass of ginger ale in hand like he wasn’t committing a full act of war against your self-control.

He caught your gaze and blinked, like he hadn’t expected this either. Then smiled, a little sheepish. "Didn’t think you’d come,” He shyly approached, scratching the side of his cheek.

"I didn't think you'd come," you retort softly, but you're smiling. "I thought office parties weren't really your scene."

Clark flushes. "Yeah, well. I changed my mind," he replies with that familiar, slightly clumsy confidence. "Figured I'd step out of my comfort zone tonight." He glances around the rooftop, which sparkles with the city skyline view. His smile grows a bit more confident. "Besides." Clark looks back at you, and the corner of his mouth ticks up into a smirk. "They do have free food."

Your smile widens. "That they do," you murmur. "The lemon pie is amazing. Half the reason I came." A white lie - you came for him, just in the possibility that he might be here. He's got you wrapped around his finger, and he has no idea.

"Is the other half free drinks?" He quips back, raising a brow. His blue eyes dance mischievously. Clark steps a little closer, casually, the distance now almost too intimate. He smells faintly of soap and pine, and something else distinctly him.

You tilt your head, eyes crinkling with amusement. "Oh, yeah. That, and Lois practically forced me to come."

"Ah, of course." He rolls his eyes at the mention of Lois, but can't keep the fondness out of his voice. "When isn't she the one pulling us into something?" He take a sip of his ginger ale, lets the silence hang for a beat. His gaze is still trained on you, a little warmer this time.

"So." Clark leans against the railing next to you, facing the glittering city lights. The wind flutters his hair. He looks unfairly cute. "You gonna try the lemon pie, or just stare at me?"

You roll your eyes. "You are so smug. And I already had a slice, I'll have you know."

"Oh, am I?" He raises a brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he leans a little closer, just shy of your space. "And I'll have you know..." He mimicks you, tone teasing. "I'm just observant." His eyes flick to your face, that soft glow that only shows up when he's around you.

He's so handsome, especially in his casual attire. It makes him look very huggable. You blink yourself out of your haze.

Clark's eyes linger on the curve of your jaw, the soft arch of your brow, the line of your throat. He looks like he has a dozen things he wants to say, but is carefully choosing his words. "You look nice tonight." He finally says. Voice soft.

You blink, surprised. "Thank you," you murmur, heart lurching. "So do you."

"Thanks." He ducks his head, sheepish again, but he's still smiling. "Told myself I'd get out of my usual look for once." The wind picks up, carrying a stray strand of his dark hair across his forehead. His cheeks are flushed from the cold, or something else. You don't dare to consider what that might imply. It's bad for your heart, to think he might like you in the way you like him. And unlikely.

You shiver. The wind's stronger than you anticipated tonight, and the sleeveless dress you're wearing does nothing for the cold. Clark notices. "Where's your coat?" He asks, eyes trained on your exposed arms.

Smiling sheepishly, you reply, "I forgot it." You cross your arms together over your chest, hoping it'll help. "Plus, it didn't pair well with my outfit."

Clark's gaze softens as he watches you shiver. "Always fashion over practicality." He teases. "You'll get sick, y'know." He's already slipping out of his own coat, draping it over your shoulders before you even have the chance to protest. It's warm with his body heat, still carrying the faint scent of his laundry detergent and him. "There," he murmurs. "Better?"

Your breath hitches. "You'll be cold now."

He waves a dismissive hand. "I run hot," he reassures. And now that you're studying him, despite the breeze, he didn't look bothered by the cold. In fact, he seemed infinitely more interested in how his coat looks on you. His gaze flicks over you, taking in the way the sleeves swallow up your hands, the collar framing your face. There's that same softness in his eyes, the one that makes his expression border on reverent.

"Does it look good on me?" You ask, a smile tugging your lips upwards.

He blinks, like he's suddenly realising how long he's been staring. His cheeks tint pink, but he regains his composure with a lopsided grin. Clark's gaze roams over the way his jacket looks draped on your frame. "Looks perfect," He agrees, nodding emphatically. "You should keep it."

Your smile widens. "That good, huh?" You tuck your hands into the sleeves of his jacket.

He watches you, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah." He replies, his voice low. "Really good." His eyes linger on the way you've disappeared in his jacket. He looks pleased. Almost possessive. As if he likes the idea of you wearing something so undeniably his.

"You never told me why you really came tonight," you murmur, mirroring his lean against the railing. "And I know it's not for the free food."

He glances at you, the corner of his mouth curving up into a smirk. "What, can't a guy just want to mingle at an office party?" His words are flippant, but there's a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. Clark shifts his weight, his gaze dropping for a moment until he meets your gaze again, eyes searching yours.

His expression softens. "Alright, you got me. There was another reason I came."

You tilt your head, curious. Your heart suddenly skipping way too many beats. "What's that?"

Clark's fingers tighten on the railing. His gaze flicks to your lips, then back to your eyes, and you swear you see a glimmer of something nervous in the soft blue. It makes you feel oddly off-balance. "I came to see you." He says plainly. The words are quiet. Honest. And they hang in the cold night air between you.

You blink, fingers digging into the pocket of his coat. "Me?" You parrot, incredulous.

He nods, lips twitching with amusement despite the sudden tension in his shoulders. He's watching you carefully, gauging your reaction. "You." He confirms softly. "And I, uh..." He rubs the back of his neck, like he does when he's nervous. "I needed to ask you something."

"Okay," you murmur. "What did you need to ask me?"

Clark leans even closer, his broad frame practically enveloping you. The sound of the party fades into the background, swallowed up by the pounding of your heart in your ears. Are you shaking?

His blue eyes are still locked on yours. Close enough you can see the depth of them. The sincerity and... something else. He seems to be struggling for the right words, his usual eloquence abandoning him. For a man who writes for a living, it's very odd.

"I..." He looks like there's a million things on the tip of his tongue, but he can't seem to say any of them. Finally, he sighs. "Do you trust me?"

You nod instantly. "Of course I trust you, Clark." And you're surprised about how true that really is. How safe you've grown to feel around him.

An unnameable emotion flickers across his face. Relief, maybe. Perhaps a touch of disbelief. Like he'd been expecting another answer. He takes a careful step closer to you. The distance between you now is nearly non-existent; you could reach out and touch his chest, if you wanted. You do kind of want to.

His voice drops to a low murmur, the words meant for only you. "Can I try something?"

Your hesitation is swallowed up by how close he is, how warm you feel. "Okay."

A breathless moment of anticipation, and then his hand is at your chin. His thumb grazes the edge of your jaw, tilting your face up towards him. Clark's gaze is intense, his eyes searching yours as his other hand finds your waist, tentative. He's acting gentle, almost reverently, like you're something fragile. Something precious.

He's never been this close before—close enough that you can see every detail on his face. The little freckles dusted across his nose, the faint scar on his jaw, the way the faint wind tousles his hair.

You're so out of breath your chest aches. He seems to be faring no better.

"Clark," you murmur, trying so hard not to succumb to the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "What did you want to ask me?"

His eyes never leave yours, his gaze unwavering as he leans closer, the thumb on your chin sliding to the corner of your mouth. He's so close, and your skin tingles with the nearness of him. "It can wait," He breathes back.

And then he's kissing you.

He kisses you as gently as he'd touched you—like you're something to be savoured. His hand cradles the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair. His other hand tugs you closer, your chest meeting his. It's a soft, tentative brush of his lips against yours. Chaste, tentative—almost questioning. A barely-there whisper of skin against skin.

Then Clark's hand shifts at your chin, angling your head just slightly. This time, when he kisses you, it's firmer. More sure. His hand at your waist splays across the small of your back, pulling you flush against his chest. The jacket around your shoulders feels even warmer, now that you're pressed against him like this.

Clark finally pulls away, just enough to press his forehead against yours. His hand shifts to rest gently on the back of your neck, his thumb tracing idle circles at your nape.

He takes a ragged breath, the hand at your waist absently stroking the curve of your hip. The other hand drops away from your chin, only to cup your face—broad palm gently cupping your cheek.

You're breathless, leaning against him heavily, air drawn out from your lungs. "Wow."

He laughs at that, a low, breathy sound. His thumb brushes over your cheek, the touch feather light. "Yeah," He agrees, voice rough. With the way he still has you pulled close, you can hear his heart thrumming faintly under his shirt.

Clark presses another feather-light kiss to the corner of your mouth. And another. Then one to the underside of your jaw. And another to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. He seems reluctant to let you go, even the slightest bit.

"What was it you wanted to ask me?" You ask softly, breaking the silence. You're still smiling against his lips.

He hums thoughtfully, the sound a low rumble in his chest. He's nuzzling the side of your neck now, lips gently mouthing at the sensitive skin there. "I can't remember right now," he murmurs, words punctuated with a kiss. "Wasn't important."

"Clark," you whine softly, leaning into his touch. "Come on. I'm curious, now. Don't leave me hanging."

He laughs again, the sound low in his chest. He's pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the soft skin under your jaw, fingers tracing an absent path along your spine. Finally, he sighs and pulls back slightly, just to meet your gaze. He looks half deliriously in love and half completely wrecked, his eyes dark and his cheeks flushed.

Clark's staring at you like you're the only person in the universe. The only person he'd want to be with right now, in this moment. "Will you go out with me?" He asks shyly. "On a proper date. Not an office party on a freezing cold rooftop with Jimmy and Lois watching us like hawks. I could-"

His words are swallowed by you pressing your lips to his again. He's still for a moment, caught off guard, then he lets out a ragged huff of air and kisses you back, gentle and adoring.

You pull away for air, resting your head on his chest, just below his chin. "Answer enough for you, handsome?" You murmur, breathless.

Clark is grinning as he drops a kiss into your hair. "Yeah."

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pinksirensong · 22 hours ago

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This feels like a nice day to tell I'm coming back and my "coming soon" is actually coming soon. Sorry for everything, it's been a tough year (years) being sick without getting a complete diagnosis. ANYWAY I'm back. Requests are open for:

— DREAM OF THE ENDLESS

— CLARK KENT (I'm so down for this farm boy)

— WEDNESDAY ADDAMS

And I don't know....just ask and if I know the character I'll try write it 🧡

AND DON'T YOU GUYS FORGET THAT IN OCTOBER 3 IS COMO TS12 THE LIFE OF A SHOWGIRL 🧡🧡🧡

#morpheus x reader #the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus x oc #clark kent x reader #wednesday addams x reader #bruce wayne x reader #dc x reader

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pinksirensong · 5 months ago

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— love language

chapter summary: You and Matt are now dating, but you haven't told anyone. How long will it take your friends to notice?

word count: 3.4k+

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

notes: i had this idea after writing goodnight n go (which is technically the first part, but you don't need to read it to understand this). anyways, here's a bunch of fluff

warnings/tags: after endgame but date is not specified, best friends to lovers, reader works at stark industries, matt is a cocky little shit, making out

Things moved on normally, the only thing that had changed in the past month was that you two weren’t just friends but dating.

You didn’t realize it, but you were already quite close to Matt.

Matt chuckled, his arm hooked around yours as the two of you waited in line for coffee. “Really?” He asked sarcastically.

“Ugh.” You elbowed him. “You’re an ass.”

“I’m just saying, what kinda friends have a toothbrush at their place?” He tapped his cane against the floor lightly.

You tilted your head. “Uhhh… pretty sure at one point Foggy had a toothbrush at your place.”

“That he never used other than one time.”

You scoffed, nudging his side again. "Still counts."

Matt smirked. "Does it?"

"Yes, because that means I’m not the weird one here. You just have a habit of letting people leave their stuff at your place."

Matt tilted his head slightly, feigning thoughtfulness. "Interesting theory. Except you’re the only person whose toothbrush has stayed."

You opened your mouth to argue, then paused, realizing he was right. "Okay, fine, but that’s only because—"

"You stay over all the time?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," he teased, squeezing your arm lightly before stepping forward to order.

---

Foggy opened the door to Matt’s office. “Hey, did you ever finish the deposition for the Martin case?”

Matt put down the fork to his Pad Thai, leaving it in the Styrofoam container. “Yeah, I did.”

You took the opportunity, snatching the fork from his container and stealing a bite of his Pad Thai. Matt huffed, but you could hear the amusement in it.

"Really?" he murmured.

"You put it down," you said, chewing. "That means it's fair game."

Foggy barely glanced up from the papers in his hand. "She’s got a point, Matt. You know the rules."

Matt exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he blindly reached for the fork still in your grip. You dodged, keeping it out of his reach as you took another bite.

Foggy flipped a page. "Anyway, judge pushed the hearing back a week, which is good because it gives us time to go over the new witness statement. Karen’s taking a look at it now."

Matt hummed in acknowledgment, still trying to reclaim his fork. You smirked, shifting slightly in his lap. He retaliated by sliding an arm around your waist, pinning you in place.

"You gonna give that back?" he murmured.

"Maybe," you teased, holding it just out of reach.

Foggy sighed, still not looking up. "If you two devolve into a full-on fork battle, at least take it outside. I don’t need Pad Thai in the depositions."

Matt smirked, finally managing to grab the utensil from your grip. "Noted."

You huffed but didn’t move, resting your elbow on his shoulder instead. "Fine. I got what I wanted anyway."

Matt chuckled, shaking his head as he twirled the fork back into his food.

Foggy snapped the folder shut. "Alright, well, since you two seem busy, I’ll go see if Karen needs help."

"Let us know if you need anything," Matt said easily.

"Yeah, yeah," Foggy muttered, already halfway out the door.

---

Josie’s was loud and crowded as always, but at this point it was like a second home. You were telling Karen about an incident in the lab. “—Levi somehow hooks the string around the sprinkler and pulls. I get an alert on my tablet and rush over to the lab. Turns out, when he pulled the sprinkler, he also pulled part of the main water line. All for a tiny qubit that got stuck on the ceiling.”

Karen snorted, shaking her head. "Please tell me this guy got fired."

"Nope," you said, sipping your drink. "Because technically, it worked. The qubit came loose. He just, y’know… flooded half the floor in the process."

Karen groaned. "God, Stark Industries sounds like a nightmare sometimes."

"You have no idea," you muttered, setting your glass down.

As you kept talking, you felt your shirt strap slide down your shoulder. It wasn’t anything major, just a slight shift, but before you could adjust it yourself, Matt did it for you.

His hand found your shoulder with ease, fingers brushing your skin as he hooked the strap with two fingers and guided it back into place. It was quick, thoughtless, something he’d probably done a hundred times before without even realizing.

Karen barely blinked.

You didn’t think much of it either, continuing on. "Anyway, Levi tried to convince me it was an 'engineering breakthrough' and that 'technically' he proved a new method of remote retrieval—"

"You’re kidding," Karen deadpanned.

"Oh, I wish."

Matt smirked beside you, listening quietly. His arm was resting along the back of your chair, close but not overbearing.

Karen leaned forward, taking another sip of her drink. "So what’d you do?"

You grinned. "Told him if he ever did that again, I’d make sure the next thing he got stuck was his own head in the centrifuge."

Karen burst out laughing. "And let me guess—he immediately backed down."

"Pretty much," you said smugly.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are terrifying sometimes."

"And yet, here you are," you teased, echoing the same words you’d said to him earlier that morning.

Matt tilted his head slightly, smirk deepening. "Guess I have a thing for danger."

Karen rolled her eyes but didn’t comment. She was too used to the way you two interacted, and nothing about tonight seemed different from any other night.

---

“You didn’t have to come.” Matt murmured, as your hands combed through his hair. “It’s just a mugging case.”

“And yet,” you pulled your hands away. “You were goin’ to walk in there with hair like that.” You gave him a grin. “I helped you devil boy. Oh, wait.”

You pulled his red-lensed glasses off before cleaning them with your shirt. Matt huffed, tilting his head slightly. "You know, most people don’t manhandle my things without permission."

"Most people aren’t me," you shot back, flipping the glasses open and sliding them back onto his face.

Matt’s lips twitched, but he didn’t argue.

Foggy sighed from beside you. "How do you two have time for this while standing outside a courtroom?"

Karen smirked, arms crossed. "Multitasking."

You grinned. "Exactly. I’m helping him and annoying him at the same time."

Matt let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You really do take your job seriously."

"Obviously."

Before Foggy could reply, the courtroom doors opened, and the previous case let out, lawyers and reporters filing into the hallway. The four of you straightened slightly as Matt rolled his shoulders, settling into courtroom mode.

"Alright," Matt murmured, adjusting his tie. "Let’s get this over with."

You reached out instinctively, running a hand down the front of his suit, smoothing the fabric. "You’re good."

Matt caught your wrist before you could pull away, his thumb brushing over your pulse for just a second longer than necessary. “You going to stay?”

“Yep. I’ll be sittin’ in the front row looking pretty.”

Foggy snorted. "Sittin’ pretty? That’s your plan?"

"Someone’s gotta balance out Matt’s whole intimidating blind lawyer thing," you teased, adjusting your bag over your shoulder.

Matt smirked. "Intimidating, huh?"

"You know what you do," you muttered, patting his chest once before stepping back.

Karen chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, let’s get in there before we miss the good part."

The courtroom was already filling up when you and Karen slipped into the front row, Matt and Foggy making their way to the bench. You crossed one leg over the other, leaning back slightly as you pulled your phone from your bag, muting notifications.

"You know, sometimes I forget you don’t actually work for them," Karen mused, watching as you settled in.

You glanced at her. "Why?"

Karen shrugged. "You’re here so often, always involved in their cases, bringing them food, making sure Matt doesn’t walk into court looking like he just crawled out of a dumpster—"

"Hey," you cut in. "I don’t make him look good. He just listens to me when I tell him to fix his tie."

Karen smirked, tilting her head. "Mhm."

You rolled your eyes, looking toward the front of the courtroom. Matt and Foggy were talking in hushed tones, Foggy flipping through a stack of papers while Matt leaned slightly toward him, nodding at something he said.

Karen was still watching you, but you ignored her.

The judge entered, and the room settled as the proceedings began.

---

The hearing wasn’t long, but it was long enough for you to notice Karen sneaking glances at you every so often. You didn’t say anything, keeping your focus on the case.

Matt and Foggy handled it well, as expected. You knew Matt’s confidence in the courtroom was unmatched, and even though you couldn’t see his eyes behind the red lenses, you knew he was completely locked in, analyzing every shift in the judge’s tone, every heartbeat in the room.

By the time the judge adjourned the hearing, you were stretching slightly, rolling your shoulders as you stood.

Matt and Foggy approached, gathering their things. "Well," Foggy said, stuffing papers into his briefcase. "That went about as well as it could’ve."

Matt hummed in agreement. "We should have a decision in a few days."

Karen exhaled. "That was exhausting to watch, so I can’t imagine how you two feel."

Matt smiled. "Used to it."

You reached out, fixing the fold of his pocket square before he could tuck his cane under his arm. "You did good."

Matt turned his head toward you slightly, smirk playing at his lips. "Yeah?"

You huffed. "Yeah, Murdock. Try not to look so smug about it."

Foggy raised a brow, gaze flickering between the two of you for a second. Karen, too, was watching, something unreadable in her expression.

Neither of them said anything.

"Alright," Foggy finally broke the silence, snapping his briefcase shut. "Lunch? Please? I need food after all that legal jargon."

"Agreed," Karen said.

You nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Matt tapped his cane against the floor once, falling into step beside you. Karen shot one last glance between the two of you but still said nothing.

---

You pulled out an expired container of milk. “Matty, I seriously don’t know how you, of all people, didn’t notice you had 2-week expired milk in your fridge.”

Matt smirked from where he was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "You think I make a habit of sniffing my milk cartons?"

You made a face, waving the expired container in his direction. "Considering you should be able to smell the rotting dairy in your fridge? Yeah, actually, I do."

Matt huffed a quiet laugh, stepping forward as you popped the lid open and took an experimental sniff—only to gag immediately.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered, shoving the carton at him. "Smell it. I dare you."

Matt wrinkled his nose, taking a slight step back. "I’ll pass."

"Uh-huh, that’s what I thought." You shut the carton and tossed it in the trash before opening the fridge again. "When’s the last time you actually bought groceries?"

Matt leaned against the counter, lips twitching. "Don’t know. You usually do it for me."

You shot him a look over your shoulder. "That’s not the win you think it is, Murdock."

"I don’t know," he murmured, stepping behind you, hands settling at your waist. "Feels like a win to me."

Your breath hitched as he leaned in slightly, lips brushing just behind your ear. You huffed, pushing him back lightly with your elbow. "No, you don’t get to distract me. Your fridge is a disaster."

Matt let out a quiet chuckle but didn’t let go entirely. "I’ve survived this long."

"Yeah, because I keep you alive," you muttered, pulling out a sad-looking bag of spinach and holding it up for him. "This? This is a crime."

Matt smirked. "Pretty sure I deal with actual crimes for a living."

"You’re so lucky you’re cute." You tossed the bag onto the counter with a sigh. "Alright, that’s it. We’re going grocery shopping."

"You say that like I have a choice."

"You don’t," you said, shutting the fridge and turning in his arms.

Matt smiled, fingers brushing over your hip before he dropped his hands. "At least let me buy you dinner after."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Bribing me with food?"

"Wouldn’t be the first time."

You rolled your eyes, but the smirk you tried to suppress still made its way onto your lips. "Fine. But you’re carrying all the bags."

"Deal," Matt murmured, reaching for his cane.

You grabbed your coat, glancing at him as he adjusted his watch. "And I’m making sure you don’t buy anything that will expire in two days."

Matt chuckled. "Now that’s just cruel."

---

The grocery store was relatively quiet for a Friday night, the kind of late-evening lull where the only customers were people grabbing last-minute dinner ingredients or, in Matt’s case, replacing an entire fridge’s worth of expired food.

You pushed the cart while Matt walked beside you, his hand resting lightly at the crook of your elbow. "Alright, first things first," you said, steering the cart toward the produce section. "You’re getting actual vegetables. Not just things that used to be vegetables before they died a slow, tragic death in your fridge."

Matt smirked. "I resent that."

"You resent having to eat vegetables," you shot back, picking up a head of lettuce and tossing it into the cart.

Matt tilted his head slightly, like he was considering. "That might be true."

You sighed dramatically. "It’s like taking a toddler shopping."

"You did sign up for this," Matt pointed out, casually trailing his fingers over the display of apples as he passed.

You side-eyed him. "Did I? I don’t remember agreeing to supervise you."

"You knew what you were getting into," he teased, reaching past you to grab an apple and setting it in the cart.

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, adding a few more. "What else do you need? Other than everything."

Matt hummed, fingers tapping lightly against the handle of the cart. "Bread. Eggs. Coffee."

"Obviously," you muttered, already steering the cart in that direction.

As you walked, Matt’s hand slid from your elbow to your wrist, fingers idly tracing over your pulse before his hand found yours, linking your fingers together like it was nothing.

You squeezed his hand slightly. "If you think holding my hand is gonna distract me from making you buy actual groceries, you’re wrong."

Matt huffed a quiet laugh, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Worth a shot."

"Mm-hmm," you mused, scanning the shelves as you walked. You paused near the coffee aisle, reaching for a bag of Matt’s usual blend.

"That one’s good," Matt said, nodding toward it.

You smirked, holding up a different one just to mess with him. "What about this one?"

Matt tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "That one’s decaf."

Your lips parted in mock surprise. "Wow. Look at that. Guess you do pay attention to your groceries."

Matt exhaled a laugh, leaning in slightly. "I pay attention to you."

Your stomach flipped, but you covered it with an eye roll, tossing his usual coffee into the cart before dragging him toward the next aisle.

---

By the time you made it to the checkout, the cart was full. Probably more food than Matt had ever willingly bought for himself.

"You’re never gonna finish all this," he mused as you unloaded onto the conveyor belt.

"You will if you actually cook," you shot back. "And don’t tell me you can’t. I’ve seen you do it."

Matt smirked, handing the cashier his card before you could stop him. "Guess I have no choice now."

You squinted at him. "That sounds suspiciously like a challenge."

Matt tilted his head. "Maybe it is."

You grinned. "Alright, Murdock. Guess I’ll be the judge of whether or not you can actually cook."

Matt chuckled, grabbing the grocery bags as the cashier finished bagging them. "I did offer to buy you dinner."

You crossed your arms. "I thought we were talking restaurant dinner, not Murdock’s Mystery Kitchen dinner."

Matt smirked, shifting the bags in his hands. "I never specified."

You rolled your eyes but reached out, grabbing a couple of bags from him. "Fine. But if you burn anything, I’m taking over."

"Noted," Matt said, leaning in just slightly. "But I wouldn’t underestimate me, sweetheart."

You huffed, shoving a bag at him before walking toward the door. "We’ll see about that, devil boy."

---

“Where’s my shirt? You know, the soft blue one with a star embroidered on it?”

Matt, who was sitting on the couch, fingers tracing a braille legal document, tilted his head. “…Where are your clothes?”

“My—that’s what I’m asking you.” You replied, hands on your hips, leaning against his bedroom door.

Matt’s lips twitched, setting the braille document down on the coffee table. He turned his head slightly, his attention fully on you now. "You’re asking me where your clothes are?"

"Yes, Matty." You sighed, crossing your arms. "I took a shower, and now I can’t find my damn shirt. The soft blue one? The one with the star embroidered on it?"

Matt hummed, pushing himself up from the couch, his movements slow, deliberate. "And you think I did something with it?"

"You have a habit of stealing my clothes," you pointed out. "So yes, you’re my prime suspect."

Matt smirked, stepping toward you. "Interesting accusation, sweetheart."

You didn’t flinch as he closed the distance, his fingers barely brushing along your forearm, trailing up to your shoulder before settling against your jaw.

"You’re not wearing any clothes."

You rolled your eyes. "I am wearing clothes. Just not the ones I want."

Matt exhaled a quiet chuckle, tilting his head slightly. "Bra and underwear don’t count."

"Tell that to every guy who’s ever seen a Victoria’s Secret ad," you muttered.

Matt grinned. "Is that what this is? A show?"

You huffed, lightly swatting at his chest. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," he teased, echoing your words from earlier, his fingers still lazily tracing the edge of your jaw.

You narrowed your eyes but didn’t pull away. "Are you gonna help me find my shirt or not?"

Matt’s lips twitched. "I’m starting to think you just wanted an excuse to walk around like this."

You scoffed. "Matty, if I wanted to walk around half-naked in your apartment, I would. I don’t need an excuse."

Matt grinned. "Good to know."

You rolled your eyes, stepping back. "So are you gonna help or—"

Before you could finish, Matt turned toward his dresser, fingers trailing over the top before he grabbed something and held it out.

Your missing shirt.

Your jaw dropped. "You knew where it was this whole time?"

Matt shrugged. "You left it here last week. I thought it was mine."

You squinted at him. "Since when do you own a soft blue shirt with a star embroidered on it?"

Matt smirked. "I don’t, but you leave your stuff here so often, I figured it was fair game."

You snatched it from his hands. "Unbelievable."

Matt huffed a laugh, crossing his arms. "You gonna put it on, or do I get to keep enjoying the view?"

You shot him a look, but the heat in his voice sent something warm curling in your stomach. You turned away, slipping the shirt over your head, and when you glanced back, Matt was still smirking.

"Happy now?" you muttered.

Matt hummed, stepping closer again. "Not yet."

Before you could respond, he leaned in, catching your chin between his fingers before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.

When he pulled back, his smirk deepened. "Now I’m happy."

You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your heart was hammering in your chest. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you love it."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue.

---

It was late at night when Matt convinced you to stay. Foggy and Karen were out of the office for the night, leaving just you and Matt doing your separate work.

The office was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of paper and the distant hum of the city outside.

You were perched on Matt’s couch, cross-legged, a set of blueprints spread across your lap while he sat at his desk, reading over a case file. Neither of you spoke, lost in your own work, but there was a comfortable ease to it.

"Are you even getting anything done over there?" Matt asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You didn’t look up. "Are you?"

He hummed. "I was. Until I realized how unfair this is."

You sighed, already knowing where this was going. "What’s unfair, Matty?"

"You get to sit all comfy on my couch, while I’m stuck here, hard at work."

You snorted. "Hard at work, huh? I didn’t realize whining counted as work."

Matt pushed his chair back, standing slowly. "I think I deserve a break."

You barely glanced up. "Then take one. I’m actually doing something productive."

Matt made his way toward you, hands in his pockets. "Are you?"

You narrowed your eyes, lifting a brow. "Yes. Unlike some people, I have deadlines to meet."

Matt hummed, stepping in front of you. "And yet, you’re still here. With me."

"Because you asked me to stay," you reminded him, flipping a page. "You coerced me."

Matt smirked. "Did I?"

"Yes, you—hey!"

In one swift motion, Matt plucked the blueprints from your lap and set them aside. Before you could protest, he leaned down, hands bracketing your sides as he caged you against the couch.

"Take a break with me, angel," he murmured.

You exhaled, glaring up at him. "You are so—"

Whatever insult you had lined up died in your throat as Matt leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw. His lips brushed over your pulse, deliberate, teasing.

"Annoying?" he murmured.

You swallowed hard. "Distracting."

Matt grinned against your skin. "Mm. I’ll take that."

Your fingers curled around his tie, tugging slightly. "You are so lucky I like you."

Matt chuckled, dipping his head until his lips were just barely grazing yours. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You closed the distance, kissing him properly.

Matt exhaled against your lips, deepening it immediately. His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You barely noticed when he guided you backward, until the edge of his desk dug into your lower back.

"Matty," you murmured between kisses.

"Mm?"

"I thought we were taking a break."

"This is my break," he murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

You huffed a quiet laugh, threading your fingers into his hair. "Productive."

Matt grinned against your skin, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt. "You’re the one distracting me, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. His lips trailed back up, capturing yours again in a kiss that left your head spinning.

Neither of you noticed the sound of the front door opening.

At least, you didn’t.

Matt either didn’t hear it, or—more likely—just didn’t care.

"Hey, Matt, I left my phone—"

Foggy’s voice cut through the air like a record scratch.

You froze.

Matt, however, barely reacted. His lips left yours just enough for him to let out a quiet sigh—like he was annoyed—before pressing one last kiss to your jaw.

"Should’ve knocked, Fog," he murmured.

Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t dare turn around. Foggy, for his part, just stood there. Silent. Karen was the one to break it. "Uh."

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head back against the desk. "Jesus Christ."

Matt still didn’t move. He just turned his head slightly in their direction. "You left your phone?"

Foggy blinked. "Yeah." A beat. "But now I kinda wanna leave it here forever."

Karen coughed, her voice tight with suppressed laughter. "Should we leave?"

You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

Matt just smirked. "You could, but I doubt you will."

Karen cleared her throat. "Y’know what? I suddenly really need a drink."

"Yeah, me too," Foggy muttered, grabbing his phone off the desk and speed walking toward the door.

Karen cast one last glance between the two of you, shaking her head before following. The second the door shut behind them, you finally shoved Matt away.

"You knew they were coming, didn’t you!?"

Matt grinned, shrugging. "You said it yourself—I have a habit of coercing you."

You gaped at him. "Murdock."

He just leaned in again, lips ghosting over your ear. "You gonna finish what you started, angel?"

Your face burned. "I started!?"

Matt chuckled, nudging his nose against yours.

"You’re impossible," you muttered, still flustered.

"And yet," Matt murmured, smirking, "here you are."

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

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CHRONIC PAIN

Dream of Endless x sick!female reader

Summary: Y/N has been in pain for so long she could hardly remember a time she didn't but seeking refugee in The Dreaming and perhaps even in Dream of the Endless himself was enough... until it wasn't. The journey of love in a world of pain.

COMING SOON

a/n: it's been a long and fucked up year and this pretty much is something I wanna write for me because I'm so tired of being constantly in physical pain.

#morpheus x reader #the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus x oc #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

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𓅨 The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control Masterlist

The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control: You are being courted by Morpheus, one of the seven Endless. Then you get stood up on your date, and find out the shocking reason why.

Overall Warnings: Meowpheus, Language, Nudity, Desire stirring the pot.

To Note: Morpheus x Reader, Destiny = Russian Blue, Death = Sphinx, Dream = Mainecoon, Desire = Bombay, Despair = Exotic Shorthair, Delirium = Bengal. Sequel to: Morpheus' Adventure with Animal Control

Total Word Count: ~k

𓅨 Chapter One

𓅨 Chapter Two

𓅨 Chapter Three

Date Published: M/D/Y

Date Completed: NOT YET COMPLETED

Last Edit: 10/24/24

Prequel: Morpheus' Adventure with Animal Control

Morpheus/Dream Masterlist

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

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Honestly after this fucked up year THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEED!!!! THE COMEDY!!!! THE ROMANCE!!!!! THE WHOLE FUCKIN PLOT BEING A TRULY MASTERPIECE!!!! Can't wait to read it 💚

𓅨 How to Unintentionally, Get An Endless To Marry You Masterlist

How to Unintentionally, Get An Endless To Marry You: After saving a strange man from a fishbowl cage, you earn yourself a favor. When you cash in said favor, you don’t realize that you and the man aren’t on the same page on what you need from him.

Overall Warnings: Misunderstanding, Hilariousness, Morpheus Not Realizing You Don’t Actually Need Him to Marry You.

To Note: Morpheus x Afab!Reader

(Current) Total Word Count: ~k

𓅨 Chapter One

𓅨 Chapter Two

𓅨 Chapter Three

𓅨 Chapter Four

𓅨 Chapter Five

𓅨 Chapter Six

Date Published: M/D/Y

Date Completed: NOT YET COMPLETED

Last Edit: 10/24/24

Morpheus/Dream Masterlist

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

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𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Sixteen

Love in the Dark: You discover an intense connection with a dream lover, yearning for a love beyond physical appearances. As your encounters blur the lines between the waking world and the Dreaming, your grapple with the complexities of desire, friendship, and mortality. Can you truly love in the dark?

Warnings: Death.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~2.6k

Previous | Masterlist

Your alarm blares, pulling you from the soft tendrils of a dream. It's the start of another day in the Waking World. You stumble out of bed, bleary-eyed and groggy, still feeling the phantom touch of Morpheus on your skin.

You shuffle through your morning routine, still feeling the lingering traces of your time with Morpheus. You brush your teeth, dress in a hurry, and grab a quick breakfast before rushing out the door to catch the subway to work.

The city hums around you, oblivious to your nightly excursions into the Dream Realm. The smell of exhaust and fresh bagels fill the air, the sounds of car horns and distant music mix into a cacophony that only a city can produce. You weave through the throng of people, your mind still on Morpheus.

You reach your office building, an imposing structure of steel and glass that stands as a stark contrast to the fantastical landscape of the Dream Realm. As you step inside, you shake off the last vestiges of sleep and prepare for another day of work.

You take your seat in the conference room for a meeting with the marketing team. The whiteboard is filled with charts and figures, sales trends and marketing strategies. You can't help but feel disconnected as you sit there, listening to the discussions about customer engagement and product placements.

"Kora," your boss turns to you, "what's your take on our current sales approach?"

You force yourself back to reality, shifting gears from dreams to numbers. "I think we're doing well in terms of reaching our target audience," you start, leaning forward in your chair. "However, we could improve on customer retention."

You spend the next few minutes discussing potential strategies, delving into analytics and customer feedback. Your colleagues nod along, some jotting down notes while others offer their own suggestions. The room is filled with a sense of productivity and collaboration that feels oddly comforting after your emotional turmoil.

Your day at work passes in a blur of paperwork, emails, and meetings. The mundane tasks provide a much-needed distraction from the emotional rollercoaster of your relationship with Morpheus.

The sky outside your office window begins to darken as you finally switch off your computer. As you gather your belongings, you feel a strange mix of relief and apprehension. Relief because the day is over and you can finally rest, apprehension because sleep means returning to the Dream Realm and facing Morpheus.

You head home, your steps heavy with fatigue. The city lights are a vibrant splash against the night sky, but you hardly notice them. Your mind is elsewhere, lost in thoughts of dreams and endless entities.

You make it back to your home and go through the motions of preparing for bed. You change into your pajamas, brush your teeth, and settle under the covers. The room is quiet, save for the soft hum of the heater and the distant noise from the city outside.

As you close your eyes, you can't help but feel a pang of longing for Morpheus. Despite everything, you miss him - his touch, his voice, even his cryptic ways. You miss the Dream Realm with its surreal landscapes and fantastical creatures.

But then you remember his proposal - live out your mortal life before joining him in the Dreaming - and it brings you back to reality. The thought is too much to process right now.

With a deep sigh, you allow sleep to claim you. You're plunged into darkness before being gently carried away by dreams.

You find yourself standing in an endless field of vibrant wildflowers under a sky painted with hues of twilight. A soft breeze rustles through the flowers, filling the air with their sweet scent. This place is peaceful, serene - so different from the chaotic city life you lead in the Waking World.

Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice behind you. You turn around and there he is, Morpheus, the Dream Lord, standing amidst the sea of flowers. He looks at you with a mix of longing and relief. It's clear that he missed you as much as you missed him.

"Kora," he calls out your name, his voice soft as a whisper. A smile stretches on your lips and you jog towards him, looking forward to what this dream will bring you.

The familiar sensation of stepping into the Dreaming washes over you, the vibrant colors and fantastical landscapes as mesmerizing as the first time you set foot here. Your physical form might have aged, but the love Morpheus held for you still burned like the brightest star in the sky.

Sitting in the palace garden, you find Matthew fluttering down onto your shoulder, a ruffled ball of ebony feathers. His beady eyes gaze at you with an air of expectancy. A smile tugs at your lips, as it always does when Matthew visits. His visits are always filled with amusing banter and endless teasing. It's comforting, this little ritual of yours.

"Alright, Matthew," you sigh, reaching out to smooth his ruffled feathers. "Let's get you all neat and tidy."

Matthew caws in delight, his sharp eyes watching your every move. You work through his plumage carefully, smoothing down his feathers one by one. It's a familiar task now, one that's become as second nature to you as breathing.

Your fingers move with practiced ease, finding and straightening any ruffled feathers with a gentle touch. Matthew preens under your ministrations, his eyes half-closed in enjoyment.

Just as you're about to finish up with Matthew's preening session, a familiar figure appears at the edge of the garden. Morpheus stands there, watching you with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Kora," he calls out softly. His voice carries over the rustling leaves and chirping birds, clear as a bell in the quiet garden.

You turn towards him, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. Even after all these years, Morpheus still takes your breath away.

"Morpheus," you greet him, a warm smile spreading across your face. "What brings you here?"

He strides towards you, his long coat billowing behind him in a dramatic fashion that seems fitting for the King of Dreams.

"I thought I might steal you away for a walk," he says once he reaches you. "If Matthew would ever allow it."

You chuckle at that, glancing at Matthew who's still perched on your shoulder. The raven seems content for now, his feathers looking much neater than before.

"Are you jealous, Morpheus?" you tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

Morpheus merely shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. "Perhaps," he admits, offering his arm to you. "Shall we?"

You accept his arm with a grin, turning to Matthew. "Don't worry, Matty. We'll continue this later."

With Morpheus by your side, you stroll through Fiddler's Green. The place is lush and tranquil, a patchwork of emerald meadows and sapphire streams that glisten under the light of a sun that never seems to set. The soft rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of unseen birds provide a soothing soundtrack to your leisurely walk.

Morpheus walks in silence, his hand wrapped around yours in a comforting hold. You take in the vibrant scenery, the beauty of Fiddler's Green making your heart flutter with an indescribable joy.

Eventually, you both come to a stop by a sparkling stream, its waters reflecting the colors of the surrounding wildflowers. Morpheus turns to face you, his eyes carrying an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Kora," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "You are beautiful."

A soft chuckle escapes your lips at his words. You glance down at your wrinkled hands, their veins more prominent now than ever before. You touch the gray strands of hair that have escaped from your bun, feeling their rough texture against your fingers.

"Morpheus," you say, shaking your head slightly. "I'm old. My hair is graying, my skin is lined with wrinkles...I'm not the young woman I once was."

But Morpheus simply smiles at your words. He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb gently tracing the lines etched into your skin.

"Age has not dimmed your beauty, Kora," he insists softly. "It has only enhanced it."

His words catch you off guard, leaving you speechless. You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and adoration in their depths.

"Every wrinkle," he continues, "tells a story of laughter and tears, triumphs and losses. Your gray hair is a symbol of wisdom earned over time. To me, you are more beautiful now than ever before."

His declaration warms your heart like nothing else can. With him by your side, age doesn't seem like something to be feared or loathed. Instead, it feels like an honor - a testament to a life well-lived.

"Morpheus..." you whisper his name like a prayer on your lips.

He simply smiles at you in response, pulling you closer until you're wrapped in his embrace. As you stand there by the stream in Fiddler's Green with Morpheus holding you close, you can't help but feel truly cherished and loved for who you are - wrinkles and all.

The Dreaming was a realm of beauty and wonder, a place where the impossible became reality and every dream took flight. But now, the heart of the Dreaming was darkened, its vibrant colors muted and its lively essence dulled. A pervasive gloom hung over the land, casting long shadows that stretched endlessly, mirroring the sorrow of its ruler.

In the grand throne room of the Dreaming, Morpheus sat slumped on his throne, his once majestic posture now a shadow of its former self. His eyes, usually so bright and filled with an ethereal light, were red-rimmed and dull. The weight of his grief was palpable, and it seeped into every corner of his realm, affecting all who resided there.

You were gone. His sister to collect you and hear the choice you would make.

Morpheus had known this day would come. Mortals were fleeting, their lives but brief moments in the vast expanse of eternity. He had told you to make your decision to leave or remain in the Dreaming upon your death. He had told you that. Yet knowing did nothing to soften the blow. The bond he had shared with you was profound, transcending the boundaries of the Dreaming and the Waking World. You had been his anchor, his love, his light in the darkness of his realm.

And now you were gone, taken by the inexorable passage of time.

The Dreaming reflected its lord’s anguish. Once vibrant fields of flowers wilted, their colors fading to grey. Rivers of liquid starlight had dimmed, their currents sluggish and weak. The sky, once a magnificent tapestry of shifting hues and twinkling stars, was overcast and heavy, mirroring the sorrow that weighed down upon Morpheus.

So when you appear in the library, once again youthful as the mortal Morpheus so fell so deeply in love with, Lucienne merely peered over her spectacles and sighed.

"He is in the throne room, as Matthew calls it, oozing," You blink at the librarian before furrowing your brows, trying to understand what she was talking about. Then you remember all the Howl Pendragon references Matthew likes to use. It was your turn to sigh and you do.

"Oh for the love of the Dreaming, Morpheus," you exclaim, rolling your eyes. Your youthful voice even surprised you for you had long since gotten accustomed to your aged one. "I thought we had an agreement!" With that you stride towards the library doors, determined to knock some sense into your eternal lover for believing that you might have chosen otherwise.

You fly through the palace halls, ignoring the excited exclamations of the palace staff, hellbent on knocking some sense into Morpheus for believing that you would chose the sunless lands over him.

As you push open the grand doors of the throne room, the sight that greets you is far from the majestic splendor you're used to. The usual shimmering beauty of the room is dulled, its colors muted. The throne, once a symbol of power and grandeur, now feels cold and empty, despite its occupant.

Morpheus sits there, a shadow of his former self. His gaze is fixed on some distant point, his mind lost in a world of grief and sorrow. And yes, there is ooze coming out of the bottom of his throne. At least he hadn't stooped to actually oozing.

"I wish to be alone," he says without looking at you, his voice echoing in the silence of the room.

Planting your hands on your hips, you glare at your sulking lover. "Do you?"

The look on his face when he finally turns to see you is priceless. His eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in confusion.

"Kora?" he whispers, rising from his throne. He descends the stairs slowly, almost as if he fears that moving too quickly will shatter the illusion. When he finally reaches you, he hesitates for a moment before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against him.

His kiss is hard and desperate, a raw display of his relief and longing. You respond in kind, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer. The kiss is intense, a whirlwind of emotions that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

Morpheus pulls away just enough to bury his face in your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His grip on you tightens, as if he's afraid that you'll disappear if he lets go.

You let out a soft laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "I'm here," you assure him, "I'm really here. Though I have half the mind to smack some sense into you for thinking I would chose eternal death over you."

The tension leaves his body at your words and he holds you even tighter, pressing soft kisses against your neck. You close your eyes, relishing in the warmth of his embrace.

The sensation of his arms around you, the scent of him, the warmth of his body against yours, it's all so overwhelming. Your heart aches with a mixture of relief and joy. This is where you belong, here in his arms, in the Dreaming.

"You had me worried, Kora," Morpheus murmurs into your ear. His voice trembles slightly, betraying his earlier fear.

You chuckle softly, nuzzling into his neck. "And you had me worried too," you reply, thinking back to the sight of him slumped on his throne. "Don't ever do that again."

Morpheus pulls back to look at you, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I thought I had lost you," he confesses.

Your heart clenches at his words and you reach up to cup his cheek. "You'll never lose me, Morpheus," you tell him sincerely before your face shifts into a smirk. "Now, are you going to put a ring on my finger? I’ve been waiting for decades.”

Morpheus' eyes flare with an intensity that steals your breath away. The stars within them blaze like distant galaxies, their cosmic light mirroring the lust that suddenly fills him. A low growl escapes his lips as he takes in your playful smirk.

Morpheus scoops you up, cradling your body against his, and carries you out of the throne room. His steps quicken, as if he can't wait to reach your destination. He doesn't say a word, but the determined look in his eyes speaks volumes.

You can't help but giggle, your heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. This feeling of being swept off your feet, literally and figuratively, is both exhilarating and comforting. It's a testament to the depth of your connection, and you savor every moment as you're whisked away into the heart of the Dreaming.

Date Published: 11/8/24

Last Edit: 11/8/24

Previous | Masterlist

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

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𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Fifteen

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Material.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~2.6k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Morpheus' grip on your hand is gentle yet firm as he guides you through the winding corridors of the palace. The ethereal beauty of the Dreaming is breathtaking, each room more grand and surreal than the last. But nothing compares to what Morpheus reveals next.

As you enter the observatory, your breath catches in your throat. You're standing in a room of pure starlight, a place where galaxies swirl around you like glitter in a snow globe. Nebulas and supernovas paint vibrant streaks across the darkness, planets and stars hanging in the air like suspended jewels. It's as if you're floating in the very heart of the cosmos.

You feel Morpheus squeeze your hand gently, pulling you out of your awestruck daze. His eyes are glowing with a soft light, mirroring the brilliance of the cosmos surrounding you.

"I've always found solace among the stars," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze never leaves yours, even as you stand in this vast cosmic cathedral. "Their light shines brightest in the darkest times."

You turn to face him, his hand still holding yours. His face is bathed in an ethereal glow and his eyes are deep and full of mystery, much like the cosmos surrounding you both.

"And I wanted to share this...with you," he continues, his voice carrying a note of vulnerability that once again tugs at your heartstrings. "Because you are the light in my darkness."

Morpheus' words bloom warmth within you, echoing in the hollow spaces of your heart. He stands there, the lord of dreams himself, amidst the brilliance of the universe, and yet he speaks of you as his beacon. It's a declaration that steals your breath away.

"You think...I am your light?" you question, barely a whisper against the cosmic silence. He had mentioned being in your light prior, had he not?

His eyes search yours, a hint of vulnerability peering through his usually composed exterior. "Yes," he admits, his voice matching the softness of your own. "You are."

His confession leaves you speechless. This is Morpheus, Lord of the Dreaming, the Dream King, an entity born from Night and Time eons prior, standing before you amidst the grandeur of his realm. Yet in this moment, he appears more human than ever before. As you stand there, awestruck by both the celestial spectacle around you and the man beside you, Morpheus raises your hand to his lips. His kiss is gentle, a whisper-soft touch that sends a shiver down your spine.

The vulnerability from before is replaced by a smoldering intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

"In my realm of dreams and nightmares," he murmurs, cradling your hand ever so gently, "you are my sweetest dream."

Your heart flutters at his words, warmth blooming in your chest like a flower kissed by the morning sun. You reach up to touch his face; it's cool under your fingertips but as real as anything you've ever felt.

"Will you kiss me among your stars?" His eyes glow for but a brief moment. Morpheus' lips meet yours, and at first, it's as if the stars have aligned in perfect harmony. The kiss is gentle, tender, and filled with the same awe-inspiring wonder that surrounds you. You feel his hand on the small of your back, pulling you closer as your bodies entwine.

But as the moment stretches on, that gentle touch becomes more insistent, more passionate. The heat between you flares, igniting like a supernova in the depths of your soul. Morpheus' kiss deepens, his lips pressing against yours with increasing fervor.

His hands trail down your back, settling on your hips. He grasps you firmly, as if he can't get close enough, can't hold you tightly enough. Your own hands wander, exploring the contours of his body, tracing the lines of his chest and the curves of his shoulders.

The starlight and galaxies around you fall away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire. You're no longer standing among the stars; you're floating, soaring through the cosmos, carried by the strength of Morpheus' embrace.

Time loses all meaning as you immerse yourself in the sensations overtaking your body. Pure need. Pure want. Morpheus' lips trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You shiver as he nips at your collarbone, his hands roaming higher, cupping your breasts.

Gone is the ethereal beauty of the observatory, replaced by a hunger that threatens to consume you both. You can feel the heat radiating from Morpheus' body, his desire for you a tangible force. And yet, despite the intensity of the moment, there's a tenderness that lingers, a gentle touch that reminds you of the vulnerability he displayed earlier. It's a contradiction that leaves you breathless, a fusion of passion and devotion that sets your heart ablaze.

As the kiss intensifies, you're overcome by a wave of longing, a desire to see Morpheus, to look into his eyes as he takes you to new heights of pleasure. The urge is almost unbearable, but still, you resist, unwilling to break the spell that binds you together.

Morpheus' kisses deepen, his hands snake down your body, teasing the sensitive skin of your belly and hips. With a mere thought he dismisses your clothes, the fabric dissolving into a swirl of dreamy sand. You're left standing before him, naked and vulnerable, yet more alive than you've ever felt.

Morpheus' eyes rake over your body, drinking in the sight of your exposed flesh. His gaze is hungry, but there's a tenderness in his expression that makes your heart race. You don't even care that you are butt ass naked! Without breaking eye contact, he leans down and traces the curve of your neck with his lips, sending shivers down your spine.

His hands explore your body, caressing your breasts and teasing your nipples to hardened peaks as you softly gasp. He trails his fingers down your stomach, leaving a path of goosebumps in his wake. As his fingers dance closer to the apex of your thighs, your breath catches in anticipation, and your body arches towards his touch.

Morpheus' lips leave your neck, and he moves down your body, his tongue flicking across your collarbone and the swell of your breasts. He pauses at your navel, dipping his tongue inside before moving lower, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your hips.

You feel his warm breath on your inner thighs, and your legs tremble as he inches closer to the center of your desire. Morpheus takes his time, teasing you with feather-light kisses that drive you wild with longing. Finally, he reaches your cunt, and his tongue darts out, tasting your sweetness.

Your first instinct is to sink your nails into his hair as a sharp burst of pleasure erupts from your cunt. The galaxies that swirl around you brush against your skin as they pass by but all you can focus on is the tongue that seeks to draw out only the sweetest of sounds from your lips while tasting pure ambrosia.

Morpheus' tongue circles your clit, alternating between light flicks and firm pressure. Your legs tremble violently, and you can't help but whimper and gasp for air as he continues to devour you. His hands grasp your hips, holding you in place as he explores every inch of your folds with his tongue.

You're consumed by the sensations coursing through your body, the pleasure so intense it borders on pain. Your fingers grasp at his hair, urging him to continue even as your body threatens to give out beneath you. The galaxies around you spin and swirl, their light reflecting off your skin as if you were a celestial body yourself.

Morpheus' tongue plunges deeper, reaching inside you and stroking your inner walls. You cry out, your back arching as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. He doesn't relent, his tongue probing and teasing until you're reduced to a shaking, gasping mess.

Your climax builds, tightening in your cunt like a coiled spring. You can feel it ready to burst, the pressure mounting with each flick of Morpheus' tongue. And then, just as you're about to explode, he pulls back, leaving you hanging on the edge, desperate for release.

"M-Morpheus," you stammer, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Please..."

He chuckles, the sound low and throaty, sending a shiver down your spine. "Not yet, my love," he says, his breath warm against your skin. "I want to savor you a little longer."

He returns to his ministrations, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you closer and closer to the precipice. You can't help but whimper and gasp, your legs shaking so violently you fear you might collapse. But Morpheus is there, holding you up, guiding you through the storm of sensations raging within you.

Finally, when you can't take it any longer, when you're certain you'll go mad if he doesn't let you come, he grants you permission to fall.

"Now," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the roar of your own desire. "Let it go."

And you do. With a loud cry, your climax crashes over you, waves of pleasure coursing through your body like a tidal wave. You're vaguely aware of Morpheus' arms wrapping around you, holding you close as you ride the crest of your release.

The world around you fades, the spinning galaxies and swirling colors replaced by a comfortable darkness. You feel safe and warm in Morpheus' embrace, the aftershocks of your climax still rippling through your body. The gravity around your body shifts and you feel like your floating.

When your eyes flicker open, you are greeted with Morpheus hovering over you his eyes near black but shining with infinite stars. Surrounding you is a universe of stars, nebulae, and galaxies, you can even feel them brushing against your skin.

You lie there, floating in the boundless cosmos, with Morpheus above you. His skin is pale and luminous in the starlight, almost translucent, revealing a network of galaxies just beneath the surface. His eyes, deep and fathomless as the universe itself, gaze into yours with an intensity that steals your breath away.

As he positions himself between your legs, you feel the weightlessness of your surroundings, your bodies held in a tender embrace by the cosmic forces that are his dominion. There's a moment of hesitation, a silent question hanging in the air between you, and then he's pressing into you, filling you completely.

The sensation is overwhelming, a blend of physical ecstasy and metaphysical wonder. You're making love among the stars, your bodies moving in sync with the rhythm of the universe. The galaxies that swirl around you seem to pulse in time with your heartbeat, each star a silent witness to your passionate union.

Morpheus' thrusts are gentle yet insistent, each one sending ripples of pleasure through your cunt. His hands roam across your skin, touching, exploring, as if he's trying to memorize every curve and contour of your body. You reach up to touch his face, his hair, your fingers trailing through the ethereal strands like a breeze caressing a nebula.

The two of you are lost in each other, the rest of the cosmos fading into the background as you surrender to the moment. You feel a connection deeper than the vastness of space, a bond that transcends the physical realm and touches the very essence of your soul.

Morpheus' movements become more fervent, his breathing heavier as he drives into you again and again. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel him as deeply as possible. Your bodies are perfectly aligned, moving together as if you were two halves of the same celestial entity.

The pleasure builds within you, a swirling vortex of sensation that threatens to consume you entirely. You can feel Morpheus' own climax approaching, his body tensing, his rhythm faltering. And then, with a final, powerful thrust, he tips you both over the edge.

The release is staggering, a supernova explosion of ecstasy that courses through every fiber of your being. You cry out, your voice echoing through the cosmos as waves of pure, unadulterated pleasure wash over you. Morpheus' own cry joins yours, a primal sound that resonates with the vibrations of the universe.

As you experience the intense pleasure of your union with Morpheus, you can't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. It's as if the very cosmos are rejoicing in your shared ecstasy, and in that moment, you swear you see a star being born.

The celestial event is breathtaking, its vibrant light casting a warm glow over the Dreaming. You can almost feel the energy from the new star as it showers stardust outwards, the sparkling particles trickling into the universe as a testament to the power of your love.

In that brief, eternal moment, you and Morpheus have become the center of the cosmos, the beating heart of the universe itself. And as you bask in the afterglow of your shared pleasure, you can't help but bask in the incredible connection you share with this beautiful being.

His eyes were burning with pure celestial power, glowing with such intensity that you were almost hypnotized. Who could say they could stare directly into the burning light of a star and not be blinded? Your breath shudders as you reach up and stroke your fingers along his jaw.

"If I could have you for eternity, I would," you breathe, your voice filled with revered longing. Morpheus gazes you for a few moments before your world shifts once more.

You and Morpheus now lie entwined on the soft, downy bed in the palace, basking in the afterglow of your passionate lovemaking. The dream world around you seems to hum with contentment, as if the very fabric of reality is pleased by your union.

Morpheus' arms are wrapped securely around you, holding you close as if he never wants to let you go. You snuggle deeper into his embrace, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him as your fingers trace idle patterns on his chest.

"I never want to leave this place," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the soft whisper of the dream wind. "Being here with you, in the Dreaming... it feels like home."

Morpheus' eyes are filled with a mixture of longing and sadness as he looks down at you. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. "I know, my love," he says softly. "But you are a mortal, and you have a life to live in the Waking World. I will not take away your humanity."

"What if I didn't want to leave?" you ask, gazing up at him. "What if I wanted to stay here with you, in the Dreaming, forever?"

Morpheus' eyes flicker with an emotion you can't quite decipher. He's silent for a long moment, his thoughts clearly wrestling with the implications of your question. "It is not an easy life, to live among the dreams and nightmares," he finally says. "But... if it is truly your wish, I will not stand in your way. But you must live out your life in the waking, and when it is your time to enter the sunless lands… if you still wish for me and my realm to be your home, I will welcome you into my arms once more," He murmurs, running his fingers along your jaw and lips.

You don't like the idea of having to wait, but for him, it is worth it.

Date Published: 11/4/24

Last Edit: 11/4/24

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

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𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Fourteen

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~2.0k

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You find yourself standing in a familiar hallway of the palace. The opulent decorations, the dreamy atmosphere - it's all so distinctly Dreaming. A sense of calm settles over you as you look around, taking in the familiar surroundings.

Without thinking, your feet start moving towards the library. It's as if some invisible force is guiding you there. The library is your safe haven, your sanctuary within the Dreaming. It's where you feel most at peace. As you walk, the palace seems to breathe with life around you. The walls shimmer with iridescent colors, reflecting your emotions. You can't help but marvel at the sheer beauty of it all.

You can hear faint whispers echoing through the hallways, remnants of dreams long past. They blend together into a soft lullaby that soothes your frayed nerves. Despite the turmoil in your heart, the Dreaming feels like home.

The library door looms ahead of you, an imposing structure carved with intricate designs. Taking a deep breath, you reach out and push it open.

Stepping inside feels like stepping into another world. Rows upon rows of books stretch out before you, each one filled with countless dreams and nightmares. The scent of old paper and ink fills your nostrils, a comforting reminder of countless hours spent here.

You run your fingers along the spines of the books as you walk down an aisle, their cool texture grounding you. This is real. You're here, in the Dreaming, in Morpheus' realm.

You find a quiet corner and sink into a plush armchair that has always been your favorite spot. It's secluded and cozy, perfect for getting lost in a good book or simply enjoying some quiet time.

Leaning back against the soft cushioning, you close your eyes and let out a sigh of relief. This is where you belong - here in the Dreaming, surrounded by stories and dreams and possibilities. You don't know what will happen when you wake up - if Morpheus will still be there or if he'll be gone like a dream upon waking - but for now you feel at home once more.

Shutting your eyes, you take a moment to yourself, breathing in the tranquility of the library, when you hear a soft fluttering sound. A small gust of air tickles your face as something whizzes by.

Opening your eyes, you find Meeks hovering before you. His bright, multicolored feathers shimmer under the soft library lights, an odd juxtaposition to the leather-bound tomes surrounding him. His eyes, round and expressive, twinkle with an almost human-like awareness.

He's clutching a smaller feather duster in his tiny hand. The sight is somewhat amusing and comforting all at once. A sentient feather duster holding another feather duster – it's an absurdity only possible in the Dreaming.

"Oh, hello Meeks," you softly greet with a smile. "It's been a while."

He trills happily at your recognition, bobbing up and down in the air. He doesn't have a mouth to speak, but he communicates his joy in other ways - through his animated movements and the chirpy sounds he somehow makes.

He twirls around you in a quick circle before settling on the armrest of your chair. The little feather duster he carries begins its work on the surrounding area - dusting off an ancient tome here, sweeping away an invisible speck there.

His diligence is endearing. He seems so content with his work, taking pride in maintaining the grandeur of Morpheus' library. You can't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest at his antics.

You reach out a hand to gently stroke his vibrant plumage. It's surprisingly soft to touch, each feather delicate under your fingertips.

"You're doing an excellent job as always," you tell him, earning another excited trill from Meeks. He is also surprisingly dust free considering his job. You softly chuckle.

Suddenly, Meeks twitters insistently, his feathers fluffing up in excitement. His tiny body darts away from you, zipping between the towering bookshelves. He stops mid-air, turns around and chirps at you, waving his tiny feather duster as if urging you to follow.

Puzzled, you rise from your comfortable armchair and start to follow the little feather duster. He leads you through the labyrinth of bookshelves, deeper into the library. Your curiosity piques; Meeks has never behaved this way before.

You navigate through the maze of books, your eyes widening as you turn a corner and see a familiar trio huddled together at a grand table strewn with books and parchment. Lucienne stands out with her striking features and impeccable attire. Her fingers dance across a piece of parchment as she talks sternly with Fēlix and Matthew.

As Meeks chirps cheerfully and flutters away, you approach the table. Lucienne, Fēlix, and Matthew seem engrossed in a serious discussion. You pause, unsure if you should interrupt.

Lucienne's voice drifts to your ears, her tone stern yet filled with concern. "His mood has been affecting the Dreaming. We must find a way to alleviate this situation before the realm suffers any further disruptions."

You can't help but listen in, your heart thumping loudly in your chest. Lord Morpheus' mood? Disruptions in the Dreaming? Could it be... because of your recent actions? You push the thought away, refusing to believe that your actions could have such a profound impact. But the seed of worry has been planted, and it gnaws at you relentlessly.

Matthew, his raven form perched on Lucienne's shoulder, caws softly in agreement. "Yeah, he's been really out of sorts lately. I've never seen him like this before."

Fēlix chimes in, his cheerful demeanor noticeably dampened. "I agree. It's quite unlike him to let his personal feelings affect the Dreaming to such an extent."

You stand there frozen, a whirlwind of emotions spinning inside you. Guilt, confusion, fear - they all mix together, creating a nauseating cocktail that threatens to consume you. He had promised you that all would be well. As you're lost in your thoughts, Lucienne finally notices you standing near. Her eyes widen slightly in surprise before quickly regaining her composed demeanor.

"Kora," she greets, her voice betraying no hint of the conversation you've just overheard. "It has been some time since you last visited us, I am glad to see that you've returned."

You swallow hard, forcing a smile onto your face as you step closer to the table. Guilt was now biting at your ankles. "Oh, yes, um, I was just… having a hard time in the waking world..."

Matthew speaks up for you, remembering how dejected and morose you had been when you had shut the window on him.

"Relationship woes, ya know?" He chitters. "It's a common… er, well mostly common thing in the waking world." Your eyes flicker to his and you see him scrambling. He wasn't going to be the one to say that you had been gone because you had a falling out with your dream lover. No siree!

Lucienne bowed her head a little while you shifted your weight from one foot to the other in obvious discomfort.

"I see, well nonetheless, welcome back, your presence has been greatly missed," Lucienne says with a warm, understanding smile. You can see something glimmering within her eyes, something she has left unsaid. Whatever, you needed to steer this conversation away from you.

"I heard you discussing something about Lord Morpheus? Is something wrong with the realm?" You ask, looking between them and twisting your fingers together. "What's wrong?"

Lucienne hesitates for a moment before answering, her gaze flickering to the side as if searching for the right words. "It seems Morpheus has been... out of sorts for the past two weeks. We've all noticed a change in his demeanor, but it's hard to say what's causing it."

Matthew interjects with his usual blunt manner, ruffling his feathers in agitation. "Change in demeanor? The boss has been acting like his world's ending," he grumbles. "Never seen him go all Howl Pendragon before."

This sparks a heated debate between Matthew and Fēlix, their voices rising as they argue over the exact nature of Morpheus' mood.

Fēlix waves off Matthew's comments with a flick of his hand, looking quite put out. "That's an exaggeration, Matthew. He's upset, yes, but saying his world is ending is a bit much."

Matthew bristles at this, squawking indignantly. "Oh yeah? And you'd know better, would you? You haven't seen him like I have! He nearly started oozing green goo!"

Their bickering fills the library, their words clashing against each other like clanging cymbals. But their argument fades into background noise as realization dawns on you.

You've been away from the Dreaming for two weeks. Morpheus has been upset for two weeks. The correlation is impossible to ignore. Morpheus really had been devastated that you had refused to return upon learning who he really was to you. What an idiot.

But as you stand there in the library, surrounded by Fēlix's annoyed huffs and Matthew's sharp retorts, you can't shake off the guilt gnawing at your insides.

"Enough!" Lucienne's stern voice cuts through Fēlix and Matthew's argument like a knife through butter. They both fall silent instantly, turning to look at her with wide eyes.

"We're not here to argue," she admonishes them gently. "We're here to find a solution."

You're teetering on the edge of confession, ready to admit that perhaps you've been the cause of Morpheus' distress. You're just about to speak up when the library doors swing open with a loud creak.

In strides Morpheus, his black cloak billowing behind him, his midnight hair glowing with a touch of stars in the soft library light. His face is a mask of nonchalance, but his eyes are stormy, revealing the tempest within. He doesn't spare a glance at Lucienne, Fēlix, or Matthew. Instead, his gaze locks onto you, making your heart skip a beat.

Without a word, he strides over to you. His tall figure towers over you, but there's a certain vulnerability in his eyes that tugs at your heartstrings.

"Kora," he begins. His tone carries an undertone of hurt that sends guilt coursing through your veins. "Why didn't you come find me when you arrived?"

His words hang heavy in the air. The library falls silent except for the rustling of Meeks fluttering anxiously around the room. You swallow hard, meeting Morpheus' gaze.

"I...I was going to," you stammer out, trying to keep your voice steady. "I just... got distracted?" His pout deepens at your words and he huffs dramatically. You sigh at the pitiful look he now has on his face. "Well you are seeing me now are you not?"

A small smile flickers on Morpheus' face as he looks at you. His eyes, a universe unto themselves, soften. The hurt in them ebbs away, replaced by something else, something that sends warmth spreading through your veins.

"Very well," he murmurs, his voice a soft echo in the silence of the library. He reaches out, taking your hand in his. His touch is cool and comforting against your skin, a reminder of countless shared dreams. "Come, I wish to show you something," he tells you, his gaze never leaving yours.

There's a certain eagerness in his voice that tugs at your heartstrings. He turns around, leading you towards doors of the library. When the library doors close behind you and Morpheus, Fēlix, Matthew, and Lucienne are left in pregnant silence.

Matthew's feathers bristle as realization hits him like a ton of bricks. His beady eyes widen in shock as he splutters out, "Son of a—"

His exclamation hangs in the air, a clear indication of his sudden enlightenment. He shoots a glance at Fēlix who seems to have arrived at the same conclusion. His face is an open book of surprise and comprehension. "Kora's dream lover was Lord Morpheus the whole time."

Fēlix nods slowly, his eyes wide as saucers. "I... I did not see that coming."

The two share a moment of stunned silence before turning to look at Lucienne. The librarian has an air of calm about her, her face betraying no surprise.

"It is not my business to meddle in Lord Morpheus' affairs," she admits with a small shrug. Her eyes hold a glint of amusement as she watches their shocked faces. "They appear to have sorted their grievances on their own."

Matthew squawks in disbelief. "And you didn't think to tell us?!"

Lucienne merely chuckles softly. "It wasn't my place to say. Now," The librarian gives the pair a look over her spectacles. "It would be in your best interest to leave them be."

Date Published: 11/1/24

Last Edit: 11/1/24

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

Text

𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Thirteen

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Material.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~3.7k

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You trace your fingers down Morpheus' torso, admiring the way his muscles twitch under your touch. You revel in the power that you hold over him in this moment, a power that he has willingly surrendered to you.

Morpheus watches you with hooded eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He's trying to keep his composure, you know he has patience for it, but you can see the strain on his face, the way his hands clench into fists at his sides. Itching to touch you, to grab your thighs, buck against your hot, wet cunt straddling him.. He wants more, needs more, but he's waiting for your command.

His arousal stands tall and proud against his stomach, a tantalizing sight that has your mouth watering. You let your gaze wander over him, taking in every inch of his body. His skin is dusted with what looks like tiny stars, a beautiful sight that leaves you breathless.

Slowly, teasingly, you let your hand wander lower, tracing muscles you could feel and carving fiery paths of pleasure. Your fingers trail down until they reach the base of his cock and you marvel at how beautifully crafted his parents had made him. For the briefest moments your fingertips linger around the circumference of his cock. Morpheus sucks in a sharp breath at the contact, his hips bucking up into your touch.

"You're so impatient," you tease him, giving him a pointed look as you wrap your fingers around him. It was nice to turn the tides for once. Morpheus groans in response, the sound a symphony as he throws his head back against the pillow.

"And you never designed to be this cruel, beloved," he replies, his voice strained with desire.

You smile, a slow, seductive curve of your lips, and begin to move your hand along his length, your touch firm but teasing. "Patience, Morpheus," you purr, your voice dripping with sensuality. "All good things come to those who wait. Including me."

His eyes lock onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. You can see the struggle within him, the battle between his need for control and his overwhelming desire for you. It's an intoxicating feeling, knowing the power you hold over him in this moment. You had it in your dreams, surely, but not like this.

You continue your slow, deliberate movements, driving him closer and closer to the edge without giving him the release he craves. His body trembles beneath you, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. You can feel the tension in his muscles beneath your thighs, the way he fights to maintain his composure, and it only spurs you on.

Morpheus' hands clench and unclench the bedding beneath him, his knuckles white with the effort of keeping them still. His eyes burn with a mixture of frustration and longing, and you can see the thin veneer of control slipping away with each passing second.

"Please," he finally groans, his voice a rough whisper. "I need you. I want you. I long for your embrace."

Your smile widens, a slow, seductive curve of your lips. "Do you?" you ask, your voice a tantalizing whisper. "How much do you need me, Morpheus?"

His response is immediate, his voice filled with a raw, desperate need. "More than anything. Beloved, it has been agony since you left and I should not like to spend a moment more without knowing your touch. You are my solace," he continues, his voice growing more passionate with each word. "In this vast universe of dreams and nightmares that I command, you are the only thing that brings me peace. You are the light to my shadows," he finishes, his eyes nearly brimming with tears. "And I do not wish to exist without you."

You watch Morpheus closely, taking in the agony and desire that play across his face. Your heart aches at his words, and you feel a fierce surge of love for this being who has brought you so much happiness in your dreams. You want that to continue, you want that so much. Your eyes glow with determination.

"Come for me, Morpheus," you command, your voice firm but laced with love. "I want to feel your release on my hands."

Morpheus groans, his eyes rolling back in his head as he gives himself over to your touch. His body tenses, every muscle coiled like a spring, and you know he's on the edge. You continue to stroke him, your touch firm and steady, and he lets out a hoarse cry as his release surges through him, seed spilling onto your hands in thick, pearlescent streams.

As his orgasm washes through him, you withdraw your fingers to your lips. Eyes connecting with Morpheus' softly glowing ones, your tongue darts out and licks at your fingers.

As Morpheus' orgasm subsides, you feel a deep sense of satisfaction at having brought him such pleasure. But you are eager to taste him once more, this time with your mouth. You suck on your fingers for a few more moments, lips curved into a smirk as he watches you with bated breath, his eyes filled with longing and anticipation.

Sliding your last finger from your lips with a pop, you settle your hands on his hips and scoot yourself backward until you were satisfied that your mouth had full, easy access to his straining cock. It stands proud and erect, almost begging for more.

"Kora," Your name rumbles from his lips. You lower your head, your gaze never leaving his, and dive in to explore the velvety expanse between his legs. The scent of his powerful pheromones fills your senses, and you can't help but inhale deeply, savoring the unique scent that is Morpheus. That has always been Morpheus.

His handsome, sculpted abs flex as you nuzzle your nose against his pelvis. Your tongue darts out to lave the base of his cock, and he lets out a shuddering groan that sends tingles up your spine. You lick him again, this time tracing the length of his shaft, causing his body to tense beneath you.

As you continue your exploration, you can't help but marvel at the beauty of Morpheus' cock. His cock is perfect, both in form and function; a work of art that you are honored to experience firsthand. And to think you had been sucking off a masterpiece all this time.

You pause to admire your handiwork, looking up to meet Morpheus' gaze. His eyes are filled with a mixture of desire and worship, and it's clear that he is yours in that moment, completely and utterly devoted to you. It truly is intoxicating, knowing that you have the power to reduce this powerful being to a quivering mass of need and desire.

You decide to tease him a little more, to draw out the experience and savor the exquisite torture you're inflicting upon him. Your tongue jets out to lap at the bead of see that drips from the tip of his cock, and he bucks his hips upward, the brief moment of contact clearly driving him wild with desire.

You pull back, just far enough to deny him the contact he craves, and lap at the seed that have pooled at the base of his shaft. His taste had always been incredible, something you looked forward to even, and now you find yourself growing hungry for more.

Morpheus groans, his hands reaching down to grip your hair, not to encourage but to stroke the strands and revel in the pleasure you bestow upon him. You chuckle at Morpheus' growl of frustration as you drag a finger teasingly down his shaft, coating it with his own seed. He's so desperate for your touch, for your mouth wrapped around his cock, that he can barely contain himself. But you're not ready to give in yet. Not when you're enjoying this game of teasing and denial so much.

With a sly grin, you draw your finger into your mouth, sucking it clean and making a show of it for Morpheus' benefit. His hips buck involuntarily, and you can see the strain in his face as he tries to hold back from begging you for more. But you know he won't be able to resist for long.

You continue to tease him with soft kisses and licks, tracing patterns on his sensitive skin with the tip of your tongue. Morpheus' breathing quickens, and his grip on your hair tightens as he thrusts his hips upward, seeking more contact with your mouth.

"Please," he whispers hoarsely, his voice rough with desire. You can feel the tension coiling in his body, and you know he's on the verge of losing control. And that's when you decide it's time to give him what he wants.

You part your lips and slide them over the tip of his cock, savoring the velvety softness of his skin against your tongue. Morpheus lets out a low moan as you take more of him into your mouth, his hips thrusting upward as if to urge you to take him deeper.

With each bob of your head, you feel Morpheus' cock harden even more, if that's even possible. His hands are no longer stroking your hair but gripping the sheets beneath him, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. He's completely lost in the sensations you're creating, and it fills you with a sense of power and satisfaction.

You continue to suck him off, increasing the speed and depth of your strokes. Morpheus' moans grow louder, echoing through the room, and you can tell he's close to the edge. You redouble your efforts, using your hand to stroke the base of his cock while your mouth works its magic on the tip.

Morpheus' body tenses, and you know the moment is near. With a final, desperate thrust, he empties himself into your mouth, his seed painting your tongue and the roof of your mouth. You swallow greedily, savoring the taste of him as he gasps for air, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

As Morpheus' orgasm subsides, you draw back, licking your lips to savor the last drops of his essence. His eyes are still closed, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You can't help but feel so happy that he is blissed out and within your bed, looking so beautiful.

Morpheus finally opens his eyes, a look of blissful contentment on his face. He reaches up to cup your cheek, his fingers gentle against your skin. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice still rough with desire. "For giving me such incredible pleasure."

You smile, climbing up so you can lean in and press a kiss to his lips. "It's my pleasure," you reply, your voice filled with pure affection. "But I am not done."

You straddle Morpheus' hips, his cock still hard and throbbing between your thighs. His eyes are dark with desire, watching you intently as you begin to move. You start slowly, raising yourself up until his tip is just inside you, then lower yourself back down with exquisite care.

Morpheus' breath catches in his throat, and he grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin. You can feel the warmth of his touch, the strength in his grasp, as you continue to ride him at a leisurely pace. Each time you raise yourself up, you feel the delicious tension build, and each time you descend, you're greeted by the thickness of his shaft filling you completely.

His eyes never leave your face, drinking in your every expression as you move above him. You can see the desire burning in his gaze, and it spurs you on, knowing that you have the power to bring him such pleasure.

As the seconds stretch into minutes, you increase your pace slightly, relishing the feel of Morpheus' cock inside you. His gasps grow louder, his hips thrusting upward to meet your every downward motion. The sensations are so intense, you can hardly believe it's possible to feel so alive, so connected to another person. To an Endless.

You lean forward, caging him in with your arms as your lips brush his ear. "I love you," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the sound of your ragged breathing. Morpheus' grip on your hips tightens, and you can feel his cock twitch inside you as he struggles to hold back his release.

But you're not ready for it to end just yet. You continue to ride him, your rhythm growing faster and harder with each passing second. Morpheus' hips are bucking wildly now, his control slipping as he's consumed by the pleasure you're giving him. One of his hands departs your hip to grasp your breast and he gives it a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over your nipple, sending shivers down your spine.

"All I want is you," You begin to chant between your gasps of pleasure. "All I want is you, all I want is you."

Your words are like a mantra, driving both of you closer to the edge. The intensity of your movements increases, your pace becoming almost frantic as you chase the climax that hovers just out of reach. Morpheus matches your urgency, his thrusts powerful and precise, each one sending a wave of pleasure crashing through you.

The tension builds to an almost unbearable peak, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, every touch, every kiss, a testament to the love and desire you share. You can feel the climax approaching, a wave of ecstasy that threatens to sweep you away.

With a final, powerful thrust, Morpheus finds his release, his body shuddering beneath you as he cries out your name. The sensation of his seed filling you pushes you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing over you with a force that leaves you trembling.

You scream as you come around his cock, your cunt rippling and clenching around his cock while your fingers clenching the bedsheets so tightly that your knuckles turn white. The intense sensations of pleasure course through your body, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of ecstasy crash over you and spill down your limbs until your fingers and toes are tingling.

You feel him twitch inside you, his cock stirred by your orgasm and tight squeezes your cunt gives it. The warmth and slickness of his seed is almost too much to bear, but it only adds to the incredible sensations that you're experiencing.

When your orgasm begins to subside, your arms tremble and you begin to collapse on top of Morpheus. Yet instead of landing on his body in a slump of buzzing and half numb limbs, Morpheus is moving faster than you can blink. He has your positions reversed in between your heavy exhale and inhale, and when your brain finally registers what has happened, you are splayed out on your bed beneath him.

Your eyes are wide and filled with the after affects of your orgasm, bliss and ecstasy, and Morpheus gazes down at you like you are the most beautiful entity he has ever laid eyes upon because in his mind, you are. Your eyelashes flutter up at him as your mind, once again, marvels at his beauty. You raise your hand and brush your fingers along his jaw, carving paths across his lips.

You feel Morpheus's weight bearing down on you, his body flush against yours as he claims your mouth in a passionate kiss. His hands roam across your skin, setting it ablaze with every touch. You can't help but moan into his mouth as his tongue dances with yours, the intensity of his kisses matching the fierce burn in your veins.

Morpheus slides his cock back into you with a satisfied sigh. Your body hums in response, the earlier climax still echoing in your veins. His eyes never leave yours as he begins to move, his pace slow and deliberate. The sensation of him inside you, filling you so completely, is overwhelming.

His hands roam your body as he moves, tracing the curve of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the swell of your hips. Each touch is a testament to his desire for you, his love for you. You wrap your legs around him, ankles locking together and pulling him deeper into you with each thrust.

Morpheus leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth once more with an intensity that leaves you breathless. You can taste yourself on his lips, taste him, you can even taste the very stars that burn so brightly within his hypnotic gaze. It only serves to stoke the fire within you.

His thrusts grow more insistent, each one hitting a spot deep inside you that makes stars dance behind your fluttering eyelids. You clutch at his back, your nails digging into his flesh as you struggle to keep up with his relentless pace. He is a being that will never tire, never need to recover from intense orgasms, never falter in his relentless pursuit of your pleasure. Each thrust drives deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You can barely keep up with him, your body responding to his with a fierce, primal need.

"Morpheus," you gasp, your voice a desperate plea. The sensation of his powerful thrusts, combined with the feel of his hands gripping your hips, is almost too much to bear. The pressure is building again, the tension coiling within you like a spring ready to snap.

His response is a deep, guttural growl, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless. His tongue dances with yours, the kiss reflecting the intensity of your connection. His control is slipping, his need for you driving him to the brink.

"All I want is you," you chant again, your voice a mantra that seems to fuel his desire. "All I want is you."

Morpheus' eyes darken with an unspoken promise, his thrusts becoming even more forceful, driving you both closer to the edge. The sound of skin against skin, your shared moans, and the rhythm of your bodies moving in perfect harmony create a symphony of pleasure that fills the room.

Your body responds to his every movement, your hips meeting his thrusts, your hands exploring the hard planes of his back. You can feel the muscles tensing beneath your fingers, the raw power of his body a constant reminder of his endless stamina.

As the tension within you builds to an almost unbearable peak, you cry out his name, your voice filled with a mixture of desperation and ecstasy. "Morpheus!" Hearing you cry out his name with such sweet ecstasy, ambrosia dripping from your lips.

You can feel another orgasm building within you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you're certain it will consume you. Morpheus seems to sense this because he increases his pace even more, driving into you with a fervor that leaves you gasping.

"Let go," he murmurs against your ear, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "Let go for me."

His words are all it takes to push you over the edge once more. Your body convulses beneath him as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your screams echo in the room as the world narrows down to just the two of you; Morpheus and Kora.

As the waves of pleasure recede, leaving you spent and sated beneath him, Morpheus continues to move within you, his thrusts slow and gentle now. His lips brush against your forehead in a tender kiss, his body covering yours in a protective cocoon.

Morpheus, still inside you, is a comforting weight. His breaths puff against your skin in rhythmic waves, syncing with your own. His hand strokes languid patterns on your back, lulling you into a drowsy stupor. His other hand, once entwined with yours, now gently cradles your head, fingers threading through your hair.

"Sleep," he murmurs, the command as soft as a lullaby. "Rest."

You blink for a few moments before stretching out an arm to grasp for your bottle of melatonin. Morpheus' hand prevents you from taking it.

His chest rumbles with a soft sigh. "Kora," he says, his voice carrying a note of reprimand. "You need to dream."

"No." The word is stubborn, resolute.

His fingers still in your hair. "Why?" he asks, the single word heavy with unspoken questions. Tinged with pain even.

"I..." You falter, searching for words that won't come. You don't want to explain that dreaming means facing reality - the reality that Morpheus is not yours to keep.

"Is it because of me?" he asks suddenly. The question startles you. You lift your head to look at him, meeting his intense gaze. He looks serious, concerned even. Guilt and fear riddles yours.

"I... It's complicated," you admit. No it isn't, you just don't want to face your fear of being right that he isn't yours.

His thumb strokes the side of your face in a gentle caress. "Then let me simplify it for you," he says softly. "Dreaming is essential for your health, Kora."

"But..." You trail off, unsure how to voice your fears.

"But nothing," he interrupts firmly. "You are harming yourself by avoiding sleep."

"But if I dream..." you start again, then stop.

"If you dream... what?" He prompts gently.

"I'll have to face reality," you whisper.

He sighs, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "Kora, avoiding reality won't make it disappear. You have to face it eventually."

"But it hurts," you admit quietly.

His hand tightens in your hair. "I know," he says softly. "But know this, beloved, you are mine. In this plane and the next. You are mine."

You want to believe him, you really do. But the fear of waking up alone, of facing a world without Morpheus by your side, is too great.

"Please," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "For me."

The plea in his voice breaks through your defenses. With a shaky sigh, you nod against his chest. "Okay," you whisper back.

"Thank you," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

As sleep tugs at your senses, Morpheus's arms tighten around you, as if he's trying to anchor you to him. He is, making sure that you know he will still be yours when you wake from your dreams. And in that moment, you let yourself believe that maybe - just maybe - you can face reality with him by your side.

Date Published: 10/28/24

Last Edit: 10/28/24

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

Text

𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Twelve

Warnings: Nudity, Light Smut Not Super Explicit.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~3.3k

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As you run your teeth against Morpheus' throat, he effortlessly carries you into your home. It's dark inside, the lights off as you left them before you departed for work in the morning. Your hand blindly scratches at the wall you know the light switch is on. The moment you feel your fingers locate the light switch an flick it, you pull back to gaze at him.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take a step back, trying to reconcile the man you see before you with the one you've known in your dreams.

You study him from top to bottom. His clothes are as sophisticated as you had seen prior, yet somehow they make more sense to you now that you know who he is. He's taller than you thought he'd be, with broad shoulders that taper down to a narrow waist. His chest is hidden beneath layers of fabric, but you know that his body is a Greecian masterpiece. Your eyes flicker back up to his face, soaking in every detail and line.

His eyes. It's his eyes that captivate you. Like pools of blue, his eyes shimmer the most gorgeous blue you've ever seen and can swear stars twinkle in their depths. They seem to see straight through you, peeling back the layers of your soul and laying bare all your secrets. And yet what didn't he know about you?

As your gaze travels lower, you take in the way his jeans hug his hips, revealing long legs that hint at a strength born from eons of existence. Your eyes linger on his hands, so different from what you had imagined. They're not rough or calloused but elegant and finely boned, hands that have crafted dreams and nightmares alike.

And then there's his face. His cheekbones are sharp enough to cut glass, and his jawline is strong and defined. But it's his lips that truly captivate you; full and inviting, they promise kisses that could either be as soft as a dream or as brutal as a nightmare. You had both and every option in between. How is it that you had entered a relationship with him?

He is so beautiful.

The silence stretches between you both until it's almost unbearable. You can feel his gaze on you, intense and probing, and it sends shivers down your spine.

Suddenly, he moves towards you in a fluid motion that makes your breath hitch in your throat. His hand cradles the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair once more as he pulls you close. The world tilts on its axis as his lips meet yours again, drowning you in a whirlpool of emotions.

This kiss is different from the others. It's desperate, almost frantic, as if he's trying to prove a point, to both you and himself. That you matter to him, that you are his whole universal. His tongue explores your mouth, claiming every inch as his own. You can't help but respond in kind, matching his intensity with your own.

When he finally pulls away, you're left breathless and wanting more. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and intense, filled with an emotion that makes your heart race. "You have no idea how much you mean to me," he whispers, his voice rough with desire.

"Show me," You demand, your voice steady but breathless.

His hands work deftly to unbutton your blazer. The material falls from your shoulders and puddles at your feet. His fingers move to ghost over the hem of your shirt, teasing, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the anticipation building, every nerve ending alive with desire. You almost want to beg, but refused to do so tonight. He would have to work for you, for your pleasure.

As he removes your shirt, you feel his gaze burn against your flesh. It's as if he's memorizing every inch of your skin, every curve and dip of your body. Has he forgotten already? No. Never. But if felt like you had been gone for a century. The air in the room grows heavy with anticipation as his eyes rake over the dips of your hips and delicious curves of your breasts. His hands follow the path of his gaze, tracing over your skin with a reverence that leaves you breathless.

His lips descend to the hollow of your throat, nipping at the sensitive skin there and your head lolls back, a sweet moan slipping from your mouth. Your eyelashes flutter when his tongue licks away the rainwater that clings to your skin, tasting every drop. His teeth then graze against your collarbone and your back arches, pressing your breasts against his clothed chest.

You reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as he continues his exploration. His mouth moves lower, following the line of water droplets down to your stomach.

The room is filled with nothing but the sound of rain against the window and your labored breathing. It's a heady mix of desire and need that leaves you wanting more. His hands roam freely over you now, exploring every inch of your skin with a touch that is both possessive and tender.

Morpheus' fingers trace the curves of your body, lingering on the places that make you gasp and press closer. His lips follow the path of his hands, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, your collarbone, the tops of your breasts not hidden by your bra.

His mouth feels electric and blistering against your skin as he moves lower, trailing kisses down your stomach. His hands skim down your hips, fingers splaying across your waist as his fingers curl around the button of your pants. With a swift tug, they're undone, and he slides the material down your legs, leaving you clad only in your damp bra and panties, and Morpheus pauses, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every detail. His gaze is hungry, and you can feel the heat of it on your skin, making you even more aware of your own desire.

Morpheus' hands are gentle as he cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, now hard and peaked beneath the lace of your bra. You gasp, your head thrown back in pleasure, and Morpheus' lips follow, trailing hot kisses along your collarbone and down to your breasts.

He edges your bra down, revealing your breasts to his eager eyes and his hands move to your back, unclasping your bra and letting it drop to the floor. Morpheus' lips descend once more, capturing one nipple in his mouth, his tongue dancing around the sensitive peak, while his hand teases the other.

You can't help but moan, your hips pressing forward, seeking relief from the ache you feel deep within. Morpheus' fingers slide beneath the waistband of your panties, teasing you, and you grab his wrist, trying to urge him on.

In response, Morpheus removes his hand from your underwear, leaving you aching and wanting. A disgruntled sigh passes through your lips and Morpheus simply smirks at you.

You reach up, running your fingers through his dark hair, and drag him down for a deep, passionate kiss. Morpheus' hands move to your hips, lifting you against his chest. He carries you through your home, his strong arms supporting your body as he moves with purpose. You can feel the heat of his skin against yours and the sensation sends shivers down your spine. Your heart races in anticipation as he carries you toward your bedroom, the promise of passion burning bright in his eyes.

He sets you down gently on your feet just inside the bedroom door, the warmth of his hands lingering on your hips. You look up at him, your eyes locked on his, and you can see the desire burning within him. Morpheus soon adores your breasts, showering them with feather-light kisses as his lips and tongue dance across your sensitive skin. You can't help but moan, your hips pressing forward, seeking relief from the ache you feel deep within.

You feel Morpheus' fingers slide down your sides, and pick at the waistband of your underwear. His eyes burn into yours as you tell him what you want with your eyes.

You stare at Morpheus, your eyes locked on his as he gently slides your underwear down your legs, the cotton material easily falling to the floor once past your knees. You feel the cool air of the room brush against your bare skin, and a shiver wracks your damp body. Morpheus' gaze burns into you as he takes in your naked form, and you can't help but flush under his intense scrutiny and cradle your arms against your cold body.

Morpheus' fingers dance across your hips, his touch feather-light and teasing. He traces the outline of your body, moving slowly up your torso and over your breasts, making you sigh with pleasure. His hands continue their journey, caressing your neck and cupping your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. You melt into him, your body aching for more, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours. You can't help but moan into his mouth. You just had one problem—he is still clothed.

"You are overdressed," you softly complain, your voice tinged with playful frustration.

A slow smile spreads across Morpheus' face. "Am I now?" he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing rumble that sends shivers down your spine. "Allow me to rectify that, beloved.”

Morpheus pulls away, his eyes dark and smoldering. He reaches for the buttons of his star-lined jacket, and you watch, transfixed, as he undoes them, revealing the gray shirt beneath. You can't take your eyes off him as he begins to pull his shirt up, his fingers working slowly to reveal more and more of his perfect form. An antagonizing pace. You wait for him to finish, your breath caught in your throat, until finally, he slides the shirt free of his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

Your mouth waters. You have been adoring that the whole time!?

The sound of his boots hitting the floor resonates in the quiet room. You swallow hard as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, pushing them down in a slow, tantalizing reveal. The anticipation coils tight within you, your body aching with need.

He steps out of his jeans and stands before you in all his naked glory. Naturally he doesn't wear underwear or briefs. The sight of him leaves you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. His body is a work of art, chiseled muscles, broad shoulders, and narrow hips. But it's what's between those hips that has your full attention.

His arousal is evident, and you feel a surge of desire at the sight of him. The thought of tasting him, feeling him in your mouth, sends a shiver of anticipation through you. Your eyes meet his, and you see the raw desire reflected there. Oh but you wanted to dine this night, dine and feast with sight intact.

"What do you wish from me, Kora," He asks, waiting for your command, his eyes burning into yours as you contemplate your next move.

"Stand in front of my bed," you tell him, your voice husked with desire. Without a word, Morpheus does as you ask, walking over to the bed and standing right in front of it. He turns back at you, his eyes filled with anticipation and hunger. You step forward, your heart pounding in your chest, and place your hands on his chest. You press your body against his, feeling the heat of his skin against yours, and lean in to kiss him deeply. His hands slide up your back, gripping your shoulders as he returns your kiss with equal fervor.

With a sudden surge of confidence, you break the kiss and push Morpheus back onto the bed, his body sprawling out on the mattress. Your heart races as you climb onto the bed, straddling him as you position yourself just below his waist.

Morpheus' eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you perched on him, eyes soaking in how ethereal you are perched naked atop his body. A sight he has always treasured. He reaches up, his fingers trailing along your thighs, inching closer to the apex of your legs. You promptly smack his hand away.

"No touching," you command, your voice firm but tinged with playful dominance.

His eyes flicker for a moment before a mischievous grin spreads across Morpheus' face. "As you wish," he replies, his voice a low, seductive rumble.

You take a moment to admire him, his body laid out before you, his muscles taut with anticipation. The sight of him, so strong and yet so vulnerable in this moment, sends a thrill through you. You lean down, your hands resting on his chest as you capture his lips in another deep, passionate kiss. The taste of him, the feel of his mouth against yours, is intoxicating.

Breaking the kiss, you trail your lips down his neck, your teeth grazing his skin in a way that makes him groan with pleasure. You continue your journey, kissing and nibbling your way down his chest, your hands exploring the hard planes of his body. Every touch, every kiss, is a deliberate act of worship, a testament to the desire you feel for him. An exploration you have only seen with your hands and mouth.

You reach his waist, your lips hovering just above his arousal. Heat radiated from him, the evidence of his desire for you clear and undeniable, almost tangible. You look up, meeting his eyes, and the intensity of his gaze sends a thrill through you.

Oh to have a being as powerful as an Endless beneath you and hungry for your touch.

It is ecstasy.

Date Published: 10/25/24

Last Edit: 10/25/24

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

Text

𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Eleven

Warnings: More Angst.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~2.6k

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Matthew swoops back into the Waking World, landing once again on your window sill. His heart pounds in his chest, fear and hope warring within him. The moonlight bathes your apartment in a soft glow, and he strains his eyes to see any sign of you.

The light is on inside. The blinds are slightly askew, allowing him to see a sliver of the interior. A flicker of movement catches his eye and he holds his breath, waiting. And then he sees you.

You're there, sitting on the couch with a cup of something warm cradled between your hands. Your face is drawn, shadows under your eyes speaking volumes about the toll recent events have taken on you. But you're there. You're home.

Relief washes over Matthew and he caws softly in reassurance, though you can't hear him. He watches as you take a sip from your cup, then set it down on the coffee table with a sigh. You lean back against the couch, your gaze distant and lost in thought.

Summoning his courage, Matthew taps on the window with his beak. The soft sound catches your attention and you turn towards the window, your eyes widening in surprise when you see him. Slowly, you rise from the couch and approach the window, opening it just enough to let him perch on the sill inside.

"Matthew?" you ask, your voice tinged with disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

Matthew ruffles his feathers, his beady eyes full of concern. "Kora, what's going on? Everyone misses you. You look like you haven't slept in ages and I am worried that Fēlix is going to cry Petunia out of her treehouse! What is going on!?"

The raven's exasperated cries echo in the silence of your apartment. Matthew, ever the audacious bird, eyes you expectantly. But instead of a biting retort, a tired sigh slips past your lips.

"Matthew," you begin, your voice quiet and strained. "You don't understand."

He cocks his head to one side, scrutinizing you. The audacity of his stare feels heavy in the room, but you're too weary to feel truly bothered.

"Then make me understand! Okay? I used to be human, remember? Talk to me!"

A hollow laugh escapes you. "You want me to talk? Fine." Your red rimmed eyes, highlighted by the bags beneath, simmer with pained rage. "Mortals and the Dreaming do not mix," You tell him, your nose flaring and your eyes burning yet again. "Me and the dreaming don't mix!" The words hang in the air between you, heavy and fraught with unspoken meaning. You see Matthew's beady eyes widen as he digests your words.

"What the hell are you talking about, Kora?" he finally squawks, concern lining his voice. "What the fuck happened that had you running out of the fucking throne room?"

Your eyes, your pained eyes, which hold so much anguish and heartbreak, went dead.

"I opened my eyes, Matthew, I opened my eyes," you say, hollowness within your voice making the raven's heart drop. With that you harshly shut the window, blocking him from speaking more.

Matthew's words ring in your ears long after he has gone. You lean against the window, the cool glass soothing against your fevered forehead. "What the fuck happened?" He had asked a fair question. One that deserves an answer, even if it's only to yourself.

You trudge back to your couch, the weight of the world on your shoulders. Your gaze falls on the half-drunk cup of coffee sitting on the table, its warmth long gone. Like a puppet with its strings cut, you sink onto the couch, burying your face in your hands.

The silence of your apartment wraps around you like a shroud. In its embrace, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You remember his voice, not Morpheus's royal tone but his softer, intimate timbre, as it whispered sweet nothings in your ear during stolen moments of ecstasy.

Your fingers trace over the place where his hands had caressed within your dreams. The way he would wrap an arm around you as if to protect you from everything outside your shared bubble of anonymous bliss.

But now...

Now that bubble is shattered.

You sit up straighter on the couch, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You need to be strong. You've been through worse and survived. You'll survive this too. But you didn't want to have to.

"I opened my eyes," you murmur into the silence, repeating the words you'd told Matthew earlier. The truth of it settles heavy in your chest. The dream lover who had captured your heart wasn't just any dream or nightmare... he was Dream himself. Lord Morpheus. The ruler of all dreams and nightmares, not just a creation of one.

You could live with spending your life within the arms of a dream or nightmare during your sleeping hours. You could live with that because somehow you could make it work. But not with an Endless. He is unobtainable because he isn't a dream or nightmare. He isn't made to be your own.

A tear slips down your cheek, trailing a wet path down to your chin before falling onto your lap. But there are no more tears after that one— you've cried enough for one night.

"I opened my eyes," you say again, this time with more resolve. "And I will keep them open.

It rains the next week, beginning on the night of Sunday and carrying well into Wednesday where you are numbly going through motions at work. You have several meetings to attend for marketing and sales and profit. Monotony.

You sit in the meeting, eyes glazed over as the presenter drones on about market segmentation and target demographics. The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting harsh shadows across the faces of your colleagues. You try to focus on the PowerPoint slides, but the words blur together into an incomprehensible jumble.

Your mind keeps drifting back to the Dreaming, to him. The ache in your chest throbs with every heartbeat, a constant reminder of what you've lost. You clench your fists under the table, nails digging into your palms as you try to keep yourself in the present moment.

"Kora, what do you think about this strategy?" Your boss's voice cuts through your reverie, and you snap to attention. All eyes in the room are on you, expectant and curious.

You clear your throat, scrambling to recall what had just been said. "I think it's a solid approach," you begin, hoping your voice sounds more confident than you feel. "But we should also consider..."

As you speak, you feel a flicker of something at the edge of your consciousness. A whisper, a caress, a fleeting sensation that sends goosebumps racing across your skin. For a moment, you could swear you feel his presence, as if he's standing right behind you.

But when you turn your head, there's nothing there. Just the blank wall of the conference room and the puzzled faces of your coworkers. You shake your head, pushing down the surge of longing that threatens to overwhelm you.

"...consider the potential risks," you finish, proud of how steady your voice remains. Your boss nods, satisfied with your input, and the meeting continues.

You force yourself to pay attention, to take notes and contribute when called upon. But all the while, your heart aches with the knowledge that no matter how hard you try, you can't escape the pull of the Dreaming. Of him.

The meeting ends, and you gather your things with shaking hands. As you step out into the hallway, you feel a gust of wind brush past you, carrying with it the scent of night-blooming jasmine and something uniquely him.

It’s always been him.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you whirl around, searching for the source. But there's nothing there. Just the empty hallway and the distant sound of footsteps echoing off the linoleum. With a heavy sigh, you turn and head back to your desk, the weight of your heartache settling once more upon your shoulders. You have work to do, a life to live. Why couldn't your mind leave you in peace?

Rain pelts against your skin, drenching you in seconds as you walk home. You can feel your clothes sticking to your body, the fabric heavy and sodden. But you don't care. There's something cleansing about the rain, something that makes you feel as if it could wash away all the pain and heartache. You tilt your face towards the sky, letting the cool droplets splash against your cheeks.

Your shoes squelch against the wet pavement, each step sending tiny ripples through the puddles forming on the sidewalk. Your hair is plastered to your head, rivulets of water streaming down your back. But still, you walk on.

People rush past you, umbrellas bobbing as they hurry to escape the downpour. They give you wide berths, shooting you curious looks as they pass. You must look a sight, a woman walking alone in the rain without an umbrella.

A gust of wind sends a spray of water into your face and you close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. It feels like surrendering to the storm, surrendering to the torrent of emotions raging within you.

You can't escape him, not in your dreams and not in your waking hours. He's everywhere and nowhere all at once. He's in the soft murmur of the wind through the trees, in the warmth of the sun on your skin, in the sound of rain falling on a tin roof.

But he's also in the silence that follows a blissful embrace after a tryst, in the space beside you where he should be occupying, in every moment that now feels empty without his echoing presence. Your heart clenches with longing and regret, with unspoken words and unachievable dreams. The rain feels like a mirror to your soul, wild and untamed, full of turmoil and beauty all at once.

As you turn onto your street, a particularly strong gust of wind nearly knocks you off your feet. You brace yourself against it, squinting against the onslaught of rain. Your home looms ahead, a beacon of warmth and safety amidst the storm. Rather than glumly march to the front door, you decide to grab your neighbors tricycle and drag it into the safety of the gated alley between your homes.

You leave the tricycle by your neighbors back door and turn to head to your own, curling your fingers into your palm as numbness begins to emerge. You are mere steps from your back door when the air changes in the small alley and you pause.

The wind picks up again, whipping your wet hair across your face. A chill races down your spine that has nothing to do with the rain. You turn slowly, the familiar presence behind you making your heart pound in your chest.

There he stands, in the shadow of your apartment building. Morpheus. You almost believe you are hallucinating, but his form is solid and rain is striking his body. Dripping from his midnight hair, running down string cheekbones.

"Kora," he begins, his voice a soft rumble that makes your entire body tremble. "May we speak?"

His formality makes you scoff despite the pounding of your heart. You cross your arms over your chest, feeling oddly defiant despite your soaked clothes, tangled hair, and raw heart.

"Go ahead," you reply, raising an eyebrow at him. "It's not like I'm going to wake up." You can see the flinch his eyes make, even if the action does not physically appear. Your words hurt him and even though your heart still feels raw, you don't feel joy in his reaction.

His gaze pierces through the veil of rain, capturing yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. "Kora," he implores, the plea in his voice wrapping around your heart. "Let us speak where you are not exposed to the elements."

His concern for your wellbeing, real or feigned, sends a wave of bitterness washing over you. Your fingers tighten into fists at your sides as you take a step closer to him, the rain plastering your hair to your forehead.

"No," you say, your voice cutting through the roar of the storm. "We talk here, Morpheus. Out in the rain. Or not at all."

His displeasure is palpable in the charged air between you. His lips press into a tight line and his gaze hardens. But you don't back down. You won't let him dictate the terms of this conversation. This is your realm, not his. You start to turn away, ready to retreat into the sanctuary of your home when his hand shoots out, gripping your arm. His touch sends an electric jolt through you, freezing you in place.

The rain pelts down on the both of you, yet the world around seems to fade into insignificance. It's just you and him, your gazes locked in a silent battle of wills. In a swift movement, he pins you against the side of your building, his hand still gripping your arm while the other one rests lightly against the brick wall beside your head. You breath heavily and wonder if he plans on stealing your sight like he had every time before.

And yet his gaze still holds yours, the stormy skies reflected in his eyes. The moment stretches out, the only sound the rain drumming against the pavement and your own heart hammering in your chest. Then, with a suddenness that leaves you breathless, his lips are on yours.

Shock ripples through you as his mouth moves over yours, his kiss passionate and demanding. Your eyes widen in surprise but you don't pull away. You can't. His presence is overwhelming, a storm within the storm. He is kissing you and you can see him. Your hands shoot up to cradle his jaw, your fingers trembling as they touch his skin, warm and real beneath your touch. It is almost laughable when your eyes shut on their own accord.

His lips move against yours with a fervor that steals your breath away, each kiss a desperate plea, an unspoken promise. His fingers curl around your arm, his grip tight and possessive. His other hand finds its way to your waist, pulling you closer until there's no space left between you.

Rainwater trickles down your face, mixing with the salty taste of his lips. His mouth moves against yours, warm and insistent. The cool rain pattering against your skin contrasts with the heat radiating from him, making you shiver in response. Then his hand moves from your waist to cup the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your wet hair. He tilts your head back, deepening the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours, drawing a weak whimper from deep within your throat.

Despite the rain soaking you to the bone, you feel warmth spreading through you from where his body is pressed against yours. His hand at the back of your neck tightens its hold on you as he pulls away from the kiss. Your heart pounds in your chest as you look up at him, breathless and dazed.

His gaze is intense as he watches you, his eyes dark and filled with an emotion that makes your breath hitch in your throat. His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away a raindrop that clings to your eyelashes.

"All I want," You whisper out, "Is you. But I can't love you in your dark."

His thumb pauses on your skin, his unwavering stare deepening. A glimmer of... remorse? Comprehension? It vanishes before you can interpret it. His ensuing words are a hushed murmur, almost lost to the rain's rhythmic dance on the pavement. "Then love me in your light."

With his words echoing in your ears, a desperate plea in the pouring rain, you make your choice. Your hands move from his jaw to the sides of his face, fingers splayed wide as you quickly pull his lips back to yours. You make your choice.

Date Published: 10/22/24

Last Edit: 10/22/24

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

Text

𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Ten

Warnings: You Are Not Doing Well.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~2.2k

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Your days are spent in a daze, mechanically going through the motions. Your job, once a source of joy and fulfillment, now feels like an endless chore. You make your way through the office corridors like a ghost, your eyes vacant and unseeing. Your coworkers look at you with concern, but no one says anything.

The coffee is your only solace. It keeps you awake, keeps you grounded in reality. It's a bitter brew that burns your tongue and leaves a sour taste in your mouth, but it's better than the alternative. Better than falling asleep and waking up in his arms again.

You drink cup after cup throughout the day, letting the caffeine course through your veins. It makes your heart race and your hands shake, but it keeps you awake. And that's all that matters.

Your lunch breaks are spent staring out the window of the break room, watching as people go about their lives. They seem so carefree, so oblivious to the turmoil that's raging inside you. You envy them their ignorance.

At night, you go home to an empty apartment. The silence is deafening. You used to enjoy the solitude, but now it just serves as a reminder of what you've lost. You eat dinner alone at your kitchen table, staring blankly at the half-eaten meal in front of you. You've lost your appetite, food tasting like ash in your mouth.

You sit there for hours on end, staring at nothing in particular. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, each one more painful than the last. You don't want to sleep. You can't sleep. Because every time you close your eyes, you see him. Morpheus. His face haunts your dreams, his voice echoes in your ears. His embrace tears your mind apart.

Your friends finally confront you, their concern etched on their faces. They ask if you're okay, if there's anything they can do to help. You just shake your head, offering them a weak smile.

"Sorry," you say, "I've just been having trouble sleeping."

You don't tell them about the dreams, about Morpheus. How could you explain it? How could they possibly understand?

Instead, you bury yourself in work. The endless reports and meetings are a welcome distraction, a way to keep your mind off the ache in your chest. But even at work, there's no escape. Every closed door, every dimly lit room sends your heart racing. Every shadow seems to hide his silhouette. His voice whispers in the rustle of papers and the hum of the air conditioning.

After the urging of your friends, and even your boss, you go to the doctor. You find yourself in the sterile environment of the doctor's office, the stark white walls and cold metal instruments an unwelcome contrast to the warmth of your dreams. The doctor, a kind-faced woman with gentle hands, listens patiently as you stumble through an explanation.

"I... I can't sleep," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. It hurts to say the words, but you need to. "I'm afraid to."

She raises an eyebrow, concern etching her features. "Afraid of what, Kora?"

"Of my dreams." You let out a shaky breath, looking anywhere but at her. The words hang in the air between you, heavy and full of unspoken fears.

There's a moment of silence as she takes in your confession. She scribbles something on her notepad before turning back to you, her gaze soft. "Dreams can often be a reflection of our subconscious mind," she says gently. "They can bring to light our deepest fears and desires. But they are not real, Kora."

You nod, knowing that she doesn't understand, knowing that she isn't a lucid dreamer.

"I'm going to prescribe you Melatonin," she says, handing you a prescription. "It's a natural hormone that your body produces to regulate sleep, taking it before bed will reduce your ability to enter R.E.M. sleep and in some cases prevent it. It should help you get some rest."

You take the prescription from her with trembling hands, thanking her for her help. But as you step out into the sunlight, prescription in hand, you can't help but feel a sense of dread. You're not sure if a pill can banish Morpheus from your dreams or ease the ache in your heart. He always finds you.

You don't know what scares you more: seeing him in your dreams or never seeing him again.

With the setting sun casting long shadows on the pavement, you make your way to the pharmacy. The bottle feels heavy in your hand, a tangible reminder of your predicament. The reality of it makes your heart ache.

That night, you lie in bed staring at the ceiling, the bottle of Melatonin on your bedside table like an unspoken challenge. You pick it up and twist off the cap, shaking one pill into your palm. With one last glance at the darkened room around you, so starkly different from the vibrant dream world, you swallow the pill and brace yourself for sleep.

Whether you find yourself within the Dreaming or not remains to be seen.

In the Dreaming, the air is thick with a tension that has everyone on edge. It clings to the walls of the palace, seeps into the very fabric of the dreamscape. It's an unease that echoes in the silence, reverberates through every whispered word and shared glance.

Morpheus is brooding.

He sits on his throne, his posture rigid, his face a mask of stoic indifference. But his eyes, those dark, endless pools, tell a different story. They are clouded with worry, with longing. Devastation. They are devoid of their usual warmth, their glow dimmed.

He's been like this for two weeks now.

Lucienne tiptoes around him, her voice barely a whisper as she reports on the happenings of the realm. She knows better than to question his mood. Matthew is less subtle. He perches on Morpheus' shoulder, squawking loudly about some dream or another that's gone awry.

Morpheus barely reacts.

It's not like him to be so distant, so withdrawn. He is the Dream King, after all, always attentive, always in control. But these past two weeks... he's different. Unreachable.

Matthew finally gives up trying to get Morpheus' attention and flies off to sulk in some far-off corner of the palace. Lucienne watches him go before turning back to Morpheus.

"Is there something you wish to discuss, sir?" she asks gently.

Morpheus remains silent for a moment before shaking his head slowly. "No," he replies quietly.

But Lucienne knows better than to believe him. She has been with Morpheus long enough to understand his moods, to read the subtle shifts in his demeanor. And right now, she knows he's hurting. As she watches him brood on his throne, Lucienne can't help but think back to two weeks ago, when you abruptly stopped visiting the Dreaming.

You, who’s been such a constant presence in their realm, who’s brought life and laughter into their quiet existence. Your absence has left a void that no dream or nightmare can fill. Lucienne doesn't know why you stopped coming, Morpheus hasn't said a word about it, but she can guess. Her suspicions are strong in evidence.

She can see it in Morpheus' eyes when he thinks no one is looking; in the way he stares off into space as if he can will you right into his realm; in the way he flinches at your name. It’s not the first time she has seen her lord deal with the melancholy of heartbreak. And so Lucienne keeps her suspicions to herself and lets Morpheus brood in peace because sometimes love, even for an entity born from Night and Time, can be unbearably painful. She does, however, dispatch Matthew to check on you.

The raven is more than happy to check on you, because with the boss sulking, and you not visiting? Who is going to entertain and be mischievous with him? Taking flight, the raven disappears into a portal leading to the waking world.

He flies over parks and skyscrapers, over bustling streets and quiet neighborhoods. He takes his time, enjoying the view. But eventually, he reaches your apartment. He lands on the window sill and peeks inside. The apartment is dark and empty. He waits for a moment, then another. But you don't show up.

He squawks in frustration.

"Of course you're not home," Matthew tutted, his feathers ruffling. He should've known better than to come here unannounced.

With a sigh, he tucks his wings against his body and settles down to wait. He's not sure how long he'll have to wait, but he knows he can't return to the Dreaming without checking on you. Hours pass. The sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the city. The once bustling streets grow quiet as night falls.

And still, you don't show up.

Matthew grows restless. He flaps his wings, pacing back and forth on the window sill. His thoughts race, where could you be? Why aren't you home? Is everything alright?

Matthew has been waiting for hours, his worry growing with each passing minute. He ruffles his feathers in agitation, his beady eyes darting around in search of any sign of you.

Suddenly, he hears a noise. He freezes, his body going still as he strains his ears to listen. It's the sound of a door opening and closing. Matthew turns towards the source of the noise, his heart pounding in his tiny chest.

Your neighbor steps out onto their balcony, a phone pressed to their ear. Matthew can hear their voice drifting over to him on the evening breeze.

"Yeah, she left yesterday," your neighbor says. "Said she needed a vacation, that's why her trash bin is still out."

Matthew's heart sinks at the words. A vacation? You never mentioned anything about going on a vacation. On what vacation would you not dream? Matthew knows something is wrong; he can feel it in his bones.

Your neighbor continues, "She asked me to water her plants while she's gone, that's why I have her key. Stop being so nosy.”

Matthew listens to the rest of the conversation, hoping for more information. But there's nothing else that could help him understand why you suddenly disappeared from the Dreaming and now from your own apartment.

A vacation could mean anything: you could be trying to get away from it all or perhaps trying to find some peace of mind. But where would you go? And why didn't you tell anyone? The questions swirl around in Matthew's mind like a dark cloud. Eventually, your neighbor ends their call and retreats back into their apartment, leaving Matthew alone on your window sill once again. He lets out a frustrated caw before taking off into the night sky.

As he flies back to the Dreaming, Matthew can't help but worry about you. You've never been away from the dreaming this long, and he had a bad feeling deep within his gut that something bad has happened.

Matthew's return to the Dreaming is swift, but his heart feels heavy in his chest. The sight of Lucienne waiting for him, her face a mask of worry, only deepens his concern.

"She's not home," he reports immediately, his voice tight. "Her neighbor said she left yesterday... on a vacation."

The words hang heavy in the air, their implications clear. A vacation? But that wouldn't alter your visits to the dreaming? It doesn't make sense.

Lucienne's eyes narrow slightly at this news, her brow furrowing in thought. She remains silent for a moment, absorbing the information.

Finally, she speaks, her voice calm but firm. "Thank you, Matthew. Keep monitoring her apartment. Something isn't right. I need to talk to her before Lord Morpheus begins to… spiral."

Matthew doesn't know what she means by Morpheus spiraling, but with the way he was acting now and the tone in which the librarian spoke, indicated that it is to be avoided.

Matthew nodded, his wings twitching with unease. "Got it, Lucienne. I'll keep an eye out."

As the raven flew off into the night once more, Lucienne turned her attention back to the Dreaming. The air was still thick with tension, the palace walls seeming to close in around her. She has to act quickly. She couldn't bear to see Morpheus suffer any longer.

Returning to the vast library of the Dreaming, Lucienne began her search for any clues that might help them find you. She pulled down ancient tomes and scrolls, searching for any reference to sudden disappearances from the Dreaming or disruptions in the connection between realms.

Hours passed as she pored over the texts, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across the room. She was deep in concentration when a soft voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Lucienne?"

She looked up to see Mervyn Pumpkinhead standing in the doorway, his carved face twisted into an expression of concern. "Any luck?"

Lucienne shook her head, sighing heavily. "Nothing yet, Mervyn. I've sent Matthew to monitor Kora's apartment, her appearance might have influenced Morpheus' mood. She is a rather constant figure within our halls."

"You think she's the reason why he's actin' like this? Mervyn questions in surprise. Lucienne's face does not betray her thoughts.

"It is… a possibility," She replies, not wanting to hint at more than she had to. Her place was not to gossip about her Lord's personal matters, regardless of how they influenced the realm.

Date Published: 10/18/24

Last Edit: 10/18/24

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

Text

𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Nine

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~6.6k

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The warmth of the palace sitting room envelops you, the familiar scent of old books and tea a comforting presence you’ve long since come to adore. You settle into one of the plush armchairs, your body sinking into the soft cushions as Fēlix busies himself with the tea.

"You've been spending quite some time in the waking world," Fēlix comments, pouring a cup of steaming tea for you. His eyes are curious, almost mischievous as they meet yours.

"I'm from there, remember?" You point out with a small chuckle. Fēlix pouts.

"Well I know that," he says with a tone of 'duh' in his voice. "But you clearly enjoy being in the Dreaming more. So why don't you tell me more about what you've been up to that I am not already aware of."

"I went on a date." You state softly, your eyes flickering to one of the windows to enjoy the view. Fēlix's eyes grow wide as saucers and the cardinal compass on his chest glows with excitement.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Fēlix leans forward, eyes glimmering with curiosity. "How was it?"

"Disastrous," you admit, setting your cup down with a sigh. "He ordered everything for me, talked about himself non-stop. When I made it clear it wasn't going to work, he blew up. Called me all sorts of names."

Fēlix's eyes widen in shock. "No! What a cad. How did you manage to sit through the entire evening?"

"I didn't," you say, leaning back into the chair. "I left before dessert arrived and a nice sense of accomplishment after I dumped my wine on his head. Waste of a surprisingly good vino but I was at my wits end listening to him insult me and women in general."

Fēlix's face distorts into a grimace as if he's just tasted something sour. "Sounds like a complete nightmare," he says, shaking his head in disbelief. "I know actual nightmares that would grovel at the feet of any woman they find remotely attractive. I mean, how dare he? Ordering everything for you as if you're incapable of deciding for yourself and a salad? That's like mean girl's dating manual for men, bad."

You snort your next sip of tea and it burns in your nose as you cough, but that doesn't stop Fēlix from continuing his tirade.

"And don't get me started on his ego," he continues, clearly on a roll. "Sounds like he's got enough hot air to inflate a parade float and then some. I'd rather listen to Matthew crow about his shiny feathers all day than endure a dinner with such a boor."

You chuckle, feeling lighter at Fēlix's animated ranting. He always knows how to lighten the mood, one of the many things you appreciate about him.

"So what did you do after your grand exit?" Fēlix asks, looking at you expectantly. His gaze is soft and understanding, like he already knows you've had a tough time.

"I went home," you admit, the memory of your lonely apartment filling your mind. "I didn't even bother with a glass." You add, recalling the cool touch of the wine bottle against your lips. "Drank the entire bottle."

"Gods, babe," Fēlix winced, knowing when you went that far it had to be bad. "Tell me your dream man rescued you that night."

"He was... agitated," you start, trying to find the right words to describe his reaction. "When I came back to the Dreaming that night, he snuck up on me and made some accusations… which weren't entirely false."

Fēlix leans forward, hanging on your every word to a point that even his floating hair was standing on end in anticipation. You take a deep breath and continue.

"He asked me if I really sought out love from someone else," you explain, feeling a familiar ache in your chest. "He sounded hurt, almost betrayed. Also somewhat pissed." You take a deep breath, feeling your chest tighten with the memory. "I reminded him of what he'd said to me about not belonging in the Dreaming."

Fēlix's eyes are soft with understanding as he reaches across the table, offering his hand for you to take. You do, squeezing it lightly as you continue.

"I told him that no one has made me feel the way he does," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "That he's the only one who makes me happy."

"And?" Fēlix prompts gently, his grip on your hand firm and reassuring.

"He... he apologized," you say, the memory bringing a soft smile to your lips. "He told me he only meant that he didn't want me to miss out on opportunities in the real world. That he wants me to be happy, wherever I am."

"And?" Fēlix prompted yet again, perched on the edge of his seat.

"And then we had smoking hot make up sex right after I greedily sucked his cock." You tell him with a frank expression on your face. Like Fēlix expects any other result after an argument between you and your dream man? As you sit there in the plush armchair, Fēlix's infectious laughter fills the room, bouncing off the tall bookshelves and high ceiling. His eyes twinkle with mirth, and you can't help but join in, his laughter contagious. The sound of your combined laughter echoes in the sitting room, filling it with a sense of warmth opposed to the almost somber atmosphere it had started with.

"You really know how to live your best life in the Dreaming, don't you?" Fēlix chuckles, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I must say, I never thought I'd see the day when a human would be the one teaching me about drama."

Your cheeks flush with warmth at his words. "Well, I'm glad I could be of service," you respond playfully. "Just don't go spreading my sexcapade tales around the Dreaming."

"Your secret's safe with me," he assures you with a wink.

Walking alongside Fēlix and his nymph girlfriend, Petunia, the halls of the palace echo with their light-hearted chatter, a stark contrast to the usual somber atmosphere. Petunia's lilting laughter fills the air, her hand resting lightly on Fēlix's arm. Every now and then, she glances up at him with such adoration that it makes your heart swell. Fēlix looks at her with a softness in his eyes that you rarely see, a stark contrast to his usual mischief, and it’s like witnessing a different side of him—one that feels almost sacred.

You feel a happy warmth spreading through your chest at the sight of them, a happiness that seeps into your very bones. It’s infectious, soothing the edges of your own worries and making you forget your own troubles. The way they move in harmony, effortlessly attuned to each other, fills you with a sense of peace. For a moment, you allow yourself to be swept away by their infectious happiness, letting it envelop you like a cozy blanket against the chill of your uncertainties.

"You look like you've got something on your mind," Petunia says, her voice gentle as a summer breeze. Her eyes meet yours, filled with genuine concern.

"I'm fine," you reply, offering a small smile. "Just... thinking about everything."

"Everything?" Fēlix chimes in, raising an eyebrow. "Or someone?"

Your cheeks heat up at his insinuation, but you don't dignify it with a response. Instead, you focus on the intricate patterns of the marble floor beneath your feet.

"Leave her alone," Petunia scolds Fēlix playfully, nudging him with her elbow. "She's allowed to have her thoughts without your constant teasing."

Fēlix feigns hurt, clutching his chest dramatically. "Oh, how you wound me! But fine, I'll be good... for now."

You chuckle at their antics, grateful for the distraction. The truth is, your mind keeps drifting back to him and the confusing whirlwind of emotions he stirs within you. Your relationship is getting to be more hot and cold, and that worried you. As you turn a corner, you nearly collide with Matthew. He flaps his wings in surprise, cawing indignantly.

"Watch where you're going!" he squawks, ruffling his feathers. "Almost made me drop this book!" Your eyes drop to his feet to find a leather bound book dangling from a strap.

"Sorry, Matthew," you apologize quickly, trying to suppress a laugh at his flustered state.

"What's got you in such a rush?" Matthew eyes you suspiciously before his gaze shifts to Fēlix and Petunia. "Ah, I see. The gossip trio is on the move."

"We're not gossiping," you protest with a sniff, knowing full well that Fēlix's curiosity about your dream lover has been a hot topic lately.

"Right," Matthew drawls sarcastically before hopping onto Petunia's shoulder. "And I'm not a raven."

"No, you're just jealous that you aren't with us to listen in." You shoot back in correction. Matthew sputtered and puffs his feathers in indignation. Petunia giggles softly as she strokes Matthew's feathers soothingly.

"Come on now, let's not gang up on Kora." Matthew sighs dramatically but relents, settling comfortably on Petunia's shoulder.

"So," Fēlix starts again as you resume walking down the corridor. "Any plans for tonight?"

You hesitate for a moment to think, before answering. "I was thinking of going to the swamp to participate in the mud fight with the kelpies"

Petunia's eyes light up with excitement. "Oh! That sounds like so much fun! Do you have an outfit planned?"

"An outfit for a mud fight? Uh, that would be a firm no," you admit sheepishly.

"Well," Fēlix interjects with a mischievous grin. "You'd better find something stunning because I have a feeling someone special might like to indulge in a mud bath." Fēlix's words spark a laugh from Petunia and even Matthew lets out a caw that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle. You roll your eyes at their amusement, your cheeks flushing with warmth.

"Can we please stop talking about my love life?" you groan, only to have your words drowned out by a shockingly familiar voice floating down the hall from the throne room up ahead.

The voice, smooth as silk and soft as the nights caress, sends a shiver down your spine. It’s like a ghost of a memory, too elusive to catch but too persistent to ignore. Your heart stutters in your chest as you freeze in place.

"Who is that?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Fēlix and Petunia share a confused glance before Fēlix turns to you with an expression that's hard to read.

"That's Morpheus," he answers, his usual light tone taking on a more serious note. "You know, Lord of Dreams? You've met him before, Kora."

You feel your heart pound against your ribcage at his words. Morpheus? The same Morpheus who rules the Dreaming? The same one who you've barely interacted with? Who is so untouchable?

"Are you sure?" you question, struggling to keep your voice steady. The name rolls off your tongue like it belongs there, like it’s always been there. You can’t help but feel an inexplicable pull towards the sound of that voice, the allure of the mystery that is Morpheus.

"Oh yeah," Matthew caws from Petunia's shoulder, his beady eyes blinking at yours. "I'd recognize that voice anywhere, being his raven and all. Come on, let's go see who he's talking to. He only uses that voice when he's talking to kid dreamers or baby dream and nightmares. Ya know, being super nice for once…"

Your heart is in your throat as you numbly take a step forwards, and then another, and another. You do so, following your friends down the hall and to the archway of the throne room.

Stepping through the archway into the throne room, you see Morpheus. He's seated on his throne, talking to a small group of children who are hanging onto his every word. His voice washes over you, a soothing lullaby that pulls at your heartstrings in a way that feels achingly familiar.

Suddenly, it clicks.

Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams, Prince of Stories, Shaper of Forms, Dream of the Endless. Him.

The realization hits you like a freight train. The man you've been seeing in your dreams, the one who makes you feel loved and cherished like no one else ever has, the one who makes such passionate love to you, who kisses you with such devoted adoration, who holds you ever so close... it's him. It's always been him.

The room spins as you take in his ethereal beauty. His dark hair frames a face that is both handsome and gentle, his eyes sparkling with a softness that makes your heart ache. The cheeks and jaw you love to trace your fingers along, your eyes unseeing. He's even more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.

His gaze lifts from the children and finds yours across the room. Sparkling silver blue eyes glide over your group of friends before settling on you. Your heart stops in your chest as Morpheus' gaze locks onto yours and something within you cracks, radiating sharp pains from your chest. You know that gaze, have felt it upon your being thousands of times before, basked in it unseeing.

Reality sets in and you're turning around to bolt out of the throne room, not a word leaving your lips as you flee from the truth. You run blindly through the palace corridors, ignoring the confused calls of Fēlix, Petunia, and Matthew. You need to get away before your tears start rushing down your cheeks.

Your feet carry you through the sprawling corridors of the palace, each step echoing off the stone walls. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, your heart pounding in your chest. The palace gardens are ahead, a haven of tranquility amidst the chaos. You stumble into the garden, gasping for breath as you lean against a nearby tree for support.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. You blink them back, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, a painful realization sinking in. Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, is your lover. The man you've been seeing in your dreams, who makes you feel cherished and loved like no one else ever has, is the son of Night and Time.

You slide down against the tree trunk, pulling your knees to your chest. You wrap your arms around them, burying your face in the folds of your dress. Your tears fall freely now, dampening the fabric.

Why him? Of all the dreams and nightmares in this realm, why did it have to be him? A simple dream or nightmare you could have enjoyed while living out your life, but Dream of the Endless? It's too much. It's overwhelming.

You feel a profound sense of loss and despair wash over you. It's not just about him being unattainable, it's about the fact that this love you've found is so much bigger than anything you've ever known. It's too big for you to handle. Your sobs echo through the garden, a haunting melody to accompany the rustling leaves and chirping birds. It feels like a piece of your soul is being torn away from you with each passing second.

A warm breeze caresses your face as if trying to comfort you in its own way. You let out a shuddering breath, feeling your tears slowly subside. You remain huddled against the tree, your mind still reeling from the revelation. He was right, he was always right. Your love didn't belong in the Dreaming. Because in the end, mortal love doesn't thrive within dreams, it flourishes in the sun and moon light of the Waking World. Perhaps it is time for you to go home. And right now, that's all you can do. So you do, your huddled form fading to ash in the gentle light of the Dreaming.

Date Published: 10/14/24

Last Edit: 10/14/24

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

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𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Eight

Love in the Dark: You discover an intense connection with an enigmatic dream lover, yearning for a love beyond physical appearances. As your encounters blur the lines between the waking world and the Dreaming, your grapple with the complexities of desire, friendship, and mortality. Can you truly love in the dark?

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Material, Misogyny.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~4.3k

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As you step into the upscale restaurant, your date confidently leads the way to a secluded table. He pulls out your chair with a flourish and waits for you to sit before he takes his own seat. You thank him with a polite smile, already feeling a twinge of discomfort at his overbearing behavior.

He quickly waves over a waiter and without asking for your input, begins to order for the both of you. His words tumble out in a rush, his tone confident and authoritative as he lists out dish after dish. He barely glances at you as he speaks, his attention focused solely on the waiter. You are pretty sure he ordered you a salad. Red flag right there, a big enough one for you to bail… if you aren't so damn polite.

He prattles on, each word more tedious than the last. His voice bounces off the glass of wine before him, swishing around in its crimson depths as he regales you with tales of his business conquests, his latest gym routine, his luxurious car. It's a monologue that runs like a stream, unbroken and relentless. Painfully boring.

He never asks about you. Not once. It's as if he can't see past the edge of his own self-importance to notice you're more than a prop in his one-man show.

Your salad arrives, a sparse array of leafy greens and thinly sliced cucumber, and you poke at it with a disinterested fork. Over priced and underwhelming. His steak, cooked rare, oozes blood onto the white porcelain plate.

"I hope you like your salad," he says without meeting your eyes. He's too busy cutting into his steak, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "I know all you ladies like to watch your weight." Your eye twitches.

His words continue to spill forth, an unending waterfall of self-praise and grandiose tales. He laughs at his own jokes, the sound grating on your ears. The restaurant buzzes around you, but his voice dominates, drowns out the rest.

"Did I mention my promotion?" he asks, though it's clear he doesn't expect a response. He barrels on, "Huge raise. I'm thinking about getting a second house."

Your fork pauses mid-air. A sigh slips from your lips, your patience wearing thin. Where is your dream man to rescue you?

He doesn't notice.

You take a sip of your water, the cool liquid a brief respite from his monotonous voice. He's onto his gym routine now, boasting about his deadlift record and the size of his biceps. You don’t care about the size of his biceps.

A dull headache starts to form at the base of your skull.

His phone buzzes on the table and he grabs it without hesitation, his eyes flicking away from you for the first time all night. His fingers fly over the screen as he texts someone back.

Your irritation spikes.

"I'm so sorry," he says with a quick smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Work stuff."

The apology rings hollow in your ears.

You lean back in your chair, arms crossed over your chest. Your gaze drifts away from him, takes in the romantic setting wasted on this disastrous date, the soft lighting casting a warm glow around the room, couples sharing intimate moments around you.

He's back to talking about himself again, but this time you tune him out completely. You catch snippets, something about a luxury yacht and a vacation in Europe.

"Are you listening?" he finally asks when you don't respond to something he said.

You snap back to attention and plaster on a smile that feels as fake as it probably looks. "Of course," you lie smoothly. "Please continue."

And like clockwork, he does. His narcissism is astounding, and you can't help but wonder how you ended up here, stuck on a date with a man who clearly doesn't see past his own reflection.

But you stay. You nod and smile at all the right moments, even though every word out of his mouth grates on your nerves. You endure his self-absorbed monologue, all the while plotting your escape.

Because one thing's for sure: there won't be a second date.

After a long night of pretending to be interested in a man more in love with himself than anything else, you stumble into your apartment. Kicking off your heels at the door, you make a beeline for the couch.

Your dress, tight and constricting, follows the path of your discarded shoes. In your bra and panties, you sprawl out on the couch, letting out a sigh of relief. Your body sinks into the plush cushions, relishing in the freedom from the uncomfortable formal wear.

The silence of your apartment is an ice bath to your frazzled nerves. No self-important chatter, no empty boasts, just blessed quiet.

A bottle of wine beckons from the kitchen counter. Without a second thought, you grab it and flop back onto the couch. Why bother with a glass when you needed the bottle? The cool glass feels good in your hand as you twist off the cap and take a long gulp.

The wine is sweet and tart on your tongue. It burns going down, but it's a good kind of burn. One that washes away the remnants of an atrocious date and leaves you feeling lighter. You let your head fall back against the armrest, staring up at the ceiling as you continue to drink straight from the bottle. The room spins slightly, but you welcome it. It's a pleasant change from the steady, relentless stream of narcissism you've endured tonight.

Then your eyelids grow heavy as the wine works its magic. The tension seeps out of your body, replaced by a pleasant buzz that wraps around you like a warm blanket. You're almost asleep when a soft noise startles you awake. A glance at your phone reveals several missed calls and texts from your date.

Ignoring them, you turn off your phone and toss it onto the coffee table. The last thing you need is his voice intruding on your peace. With a final swig from the bottle, you set it down on the floor and let your eyes drift shut. The room spins gently, a comforting sensation that lulls you into a peaceful slumber.

Your eyelids flutter open to reveal a sight that is both unfamiliar and mesmerizing. You are in a grand bedroom, the likes of which you've never seen in the waking world. Tall, arched windows draped with silken curtains let in moonlight that bathes the room in an ethereal glow. An opulent canopy bed with velvet sheets dominates the space, while a grand fireplace flickers with a warm, inviting light.

Glancing down, you notice your attire, a negligee that shimmers as if dusted with stars. The material is soft against your skin, light and airy, making you feel as if you're clothed in a piece of the night sky itself. You probably are.

The room whispers of old world charm and elegance. The walls are adorned with beautiful tapestries depicting scenes from fairy tales and legends. A majestic chandelier hangs from the high ceiling, its crystals casting dancing shadows around the room.

Stepping towards the window, you gaze out at the view. A sprawling castle unfolds before your eyes, surrounded by an endless sea of stars twinkling brightly against the black canvas of the night sky. It's breathtakingly beautiful, a sight straight out of your wildest dreams.

A cool breeze brushes past you, making you shiver slightly as it teases your skin through the thin fabric of your negligee. You wrap your arms around yourself for warmth, but it's not unpleasant, just another sensory reminder that this isn't your ordinary world.

You walk over to the grand mirror standing against one wall and take in your reflection. The star-dusted negligee makes you look ethereal, like a celestial being who has descended from the heavens. You reach out to touch your reflection, half expecting your hand to pass through.

But it doesn't.

The cool surface of the mirror meets your fingertips, solid and real. And though this place feels like a dream, there's an undeniable reality to it that you can't ignore. Turning away from the mirror, you make your way to the center of the room and stand numbly. You are too wrapped up in your dreams that the real world now seems so dull and unenviable. Eyes burning, your first tears almost begin to fall when your sight is taken from you with a single blink.

A sudden darkness engulfs you as strong arms wrap around your body, pulling you into a hard chest. Your breath hitches in surprise, your senses heightening as you're plunged into an abyss of sensory deprivation.

His voice is a low growl against your ear, a blend of confusion and accusation. "You sought love from another!?”

Your heart pounds in your chest, the rhythm matching the deep timbre of his voice. His hold tightens, the warmth of his body seeping through the thin fabric of your negligee.

"No," you respond, the word barely a whisper as it escapes your lips. "You told me I don't belong here," you say, recalling his words from earlier. Your voice wavers slightly as you continue, "So I looked elsewhere, that's what I did."

His silence is deafening in the quiet room. You can feel his chest rise and fall against your back with each breath he takes. Does he actually need to breathe?

His hold on you softens as he digests your words. "I never intended for you to seek affection elsewhere, Kora," he murmurs into your hair. His voice carries a hint of regret, a rarity from him. "I merely meant that you should not let opportunities in the waking world pass you by because of me."

His words hang in the air between you two, his confession pulling at your heartstrings. You reach up to cover one of his hands with your own, holding it against your chest. "But it's you I want," you whisper back, your voice firm despite the uncertainty swirling within you.

There's a pause, then he moves his hand from under yours to tilt your chin up, forcing you to face him despite your lack of sight. His breath is warm against your skin as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

"You have me," he assures you softly, his words echoing in the silence of the room. "And I have you."

Your breath hitches when he begins to peel away the star-dusted negligee. It's a slow process, his fingers gliding over your skin with a gentle touch that makes your shiver. The material pools at your feet, leaving you standing bare before him. His hands return to your body, tracing paths of fire on your skin as he explores every inch of you. The cool air of the room contrasts with the warmth of his touch, making you tremble under his hands.

He pulls you closer, pressing your naked body against his. You can feel the hard planes of his chest against your soft curves, his heat seeping into you and chasing away the chill. His arms wrap around you, holding you tightly against him as if he's afraid you'll slip away.

Then he's kissing you, a fierce and passionate kiss that steals your breath away. His lips move against yours with a hunger that mirrors your own, his tongue exploring your mouth with an intimacy that makes your heart race and a soft moan emerge. He devours it.

You can taste him on your tongue, a flavor that's uniquely him, intoxicating and addictive. Almost like stars. His hands roam over your body, each touch igniting a spark within you. He cradles you close, his hold firm yet gentle. Your hands grip his shoulders for support as he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensual rhythm. He tastes like everything you've ever wanted, a mix of desire and passion that leaves you craving more.

His hands wander lower, cupping your bare buttocks as he pulls you flush against him. The feel of him, hard and wanting against your belly sends a jolt of arousal coursing through your veins. You break the kiss to gasp for air, pressing your forehead against his as you try to steady your racing heart. He kisses the corner of your mouth before moving lower to nuzzle at your neck.

"You are mine," he murmurs against your skin, the words vibrating through you. His voice is low and husky, filled with a possessiveness that makes your knees weak.

"And you're mine," you whisper back, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His body is a wall of heat against yours, keeping you tethered to this dreamlike world. The reality of the situation settles in then, you're here with him, bare and exposed in every sense of the word. And he's still wearing clothes!

"You are overdressed," You softly state, your hands running along the soft material of his coat. It feels rather soft, perhaps one day you might get to wear it. "Please fix that, I am very hungry right now and desire your cock."

He chuckles softly and the fabric disappears beneath your fingers, dissolving away as if they never existed. When you feel the warmth of his body pressing against yours, you cling to him.

"Is this better?" he asks playfully, his breath tickling your ear.

"Much," you reply, pressing your body closer to his. You can feel the hard planes of his chest against your breasts, and his cock, now freed from its confines, nudges against your belly. It's hot and hard, throbbing with desire, and you can't help but let out a low moan in anticipation.

His hands slide down your back to cup your bottom once more, tilting your pelvis up to meet his. The feel of his erection against you sends shivers of need through your body. He presses closer, grinding his hips against yours until you whimper.

Your hands wander over his chest, exploring the contours of his body with an eager curiosity. You trace the lines of the muscles you can feel, once again marveling at the feel of him beneath your fingertips. He will never cease to amaze you. His skin is smooth and warm, and you can't help but run your hands down his stomach, feeling the taut muscles there.

"You're so beautiful," you breathe, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear.

"You can't see me," he points out.

"No, but I can feel you," You purr, your fingers trailing down his stomach in search of your prize. You find it, fingers deftly caressed his erect cock while a smile slowly spreads upon your face.

As you sink to your knees, the only thing you can focus on is the hardness of his cock in your hand. You lean in closer, your breath creating a warm, almost electric sensation on his skin. He lets out a low groan, and it's music to your ears. With a smile, you guide his cock towards your waiting lips.

Your mouth is hungry, eager for the taste of him. You glide your tongue along the length of his shaft, savoring the salty taste of his skin. He's thick and hard in your hand, and you can't help but marvel at the feel of him. Oh he is throbbing for your touch.

You encircle the head of his cock with your lips, sucking gently at first. He lets out a deep moan, and it spurs you on. You take more of him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you bob your head up and down.

His hands find their way into your hair, gently guiding your movements. You pick up the pace, your lips sliding along his length with increasing urgency. The feel of him in your mouth is intoxicating, and you can't help but moan around his cock. As you continue to suck and lick, his breathing becomes ragged, and his grip on your hair tightens. You know he's close, and it only serves to excite you more. You redouble your efforts, your mouth and hand working in tandem to bring him to the edge.

With a final groan, he comes undone, his hot seed filling your mouth. You swallow greedily, savoring the taste of stars as he trembles above you. As he catches his breath, you gently release his cock from your mouth. A contented smile spreads across your face, and you lean back on your heels, your hand admiring your handiwork for your eyes. He's still hard within your grasp, a factor you expect. His stamina and no refractory period made it near impossible to truly drain the pleasure from his being.

"Come," his demand comes out feather soft, and you feel his hands gather your body from where you are kneeling in front of him. Cradled in his arms, you wait for his next move as you press your face into his shoulder. The warmth of his skin is calming against your own. He carries you somewhere in the room, the large bed most likely, and lays you down on the soft sheets.

When you feel the mattress dip next you, you are surprised that he chooses to settle next to you rather than on top of you. His reasoning is soon explained when lithe fingers spiral across your stomach and caress your chin. He turns your chin and his lips find yours. He kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring the recesses of your mouth with a passion that leaves you breathless.

His other hand roams over your body, tracing the curves of your hips and the swell of your breasts. They trickle everywhere. You arch your back, rotate yourself closer to him, desperate for the feel of his touch. Reaching out, your fingers find his hair and your stroke them through the silky strands.

As his kisses trail down your neck, you can feel your heart race faster and faster. His lips find your breast, his tongue circling your nipple before taking it between his teeth. You let out a low moan, your body arching towards his as the pleasure courses through you.

His hand slips between your legs, his fingers seeking out the warmth of your cunt. You're already wet for him, your body eager for his touch. He teases you, his fingers dancing around your clit before finally slipping inside of you.

You let out a gasp as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing your clit in slow, sensuous circles. The feel of him inside you is intoxicating, and you grind your hips against his hand, needing more.

With each stroke, you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, and your body trembles with anticipation. Lips find yours again, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he thrusts his fingers deeper inside of you until you are falling apart.

Your body convulses with pleasure, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. You whimper, your voice muffled by his lips as he kisses you through your release and clenching thighs. When your tremors subside, he pulls his fingers from your body, leaving you aching for more. You moan out your displeasure and he takes your chin in hand, turning your head until you presume he is gazing into your eyes from where he lays next to you, body pressed against yours.

He traces the curves of your body with his fingers, his eyes still locked with your unseeing ones, he whispers in your ear, "You're hungry tonight, beloved."

"Ravenous," you breathe, your words soon muffled by his lush kisses. You can feel the depth of your own hunger, a longing that goes beyond the physical. His arm slips beneath your neck and he takes great delight in scraping his teeth against your neck and sucking against the spots that make you squirm.

Your fingers trickle from his hair to the nape of his neck, bunching the strands you can feel there when his tongue ticks at a place his teeth have marked and burst of pleasure erupts. Then a knee slides under your right thigh and your leg finds itself resting against his hip, his erect cock teasing your needy cunt.

"Please," You whisper in need, bucking your hips off the bed to grind your throbbing cunt against his cock. You left hand reaches for the arm supporting your neck and you cling to his wrist.

Your pleas hang heavy in the room, thick with anticipation and need. He doesn't answer verbally, instead, his hand slides down your body, fingertips tracing a path that leaves your skin tingling in its wake. When he reaches the juncture of your thighs, his fingers lightly brush against your sensitive flesh, drawing a gasp from your lips.

He positions himself between your legs, the head of his cock teasing your entrance. You feel him there, hot and hard against you, ready to plunge into the warmth of your body. But he waits, letting the anticipation build until you can't stand it any longer.

"Please," you beg again, your voice a desperate whisper. You arch your hips towards him, seeking the pleasure that only he can give. At last, he obliges. With a slow push, he enters you. The sensation is overwhelming, the feel of him stretching you wide as he sinks deeper and deeper inside of you. He fills you completely, his cock throbbing with need.

His thrusts are slow at first, a torturous pace that has you squirming beneath him. You grip his wrist tighter as he moves within you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. As his pace quickens, so does your breathing. Then his addicting lips cover yours and his tongue competes with his cock for your attention.

His tongue is a sweet torment, dancing with yours in a rhythm that mirrors the movement of his hips. His hand on your thigh is a firm anchor, holding you steady as he rocks into you. You can feel him all around you, within you, his scent, his taste, his touch. Everything is him and it's intoxicating.

His hand leaves your thigh, gliding up the expanse of your body until it finds your breast. His touch is electric, his fingers gently kneading the soft flesh as his thumb brushes over your sensitive nipple. A soft moan slips past your lips, swallowed by his own.

He continues to move within you, his thrusts becoming more insistent. His fingers continue their gentle assault on your breast, his touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. Each stroke of his thumb over your nipple sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, heightening the sensation of him moving inside you.

Your mind is consumed by him, the feel of his body against yours, the taste of his mouth on yours, the scent of him filling your senses. You need more, more of him, more of this intoxicating pleasure that he's giving you.

His pace quickens, his movements becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. His fingers pinch your nipple, drawing a gasp from you as a wave of pleasure washes over you. He grinds against you, hitting that sweet spot inside you that has you seeing stars behind your blind eyes.

The tension within you builds, coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust until it's unbearable. You cling to him, your fingers digging into his nape as the pleasure threatens to consume you.

And then it hits, a surge of ecstasy that crashes over you in a blinding rush. You cry out, your voice muffled by his mouth as your body convulses beneath him yet again. Your walls tighten around his cock as waves of pleasure rip through you, washing away everything else.

The waves slowly recede, leaving you breathless and sated in their wake… but still he continues to move within you. A moan slips from your lips and you twitch against his side. His thrusts slow down until they're nothing more than gentle rocks. His hand leaves your breast, coming up to cradle your face as he pulls away from your lips.

His touch is tender, soothing the heated skin where his fingers had danced. He cradles your face in his hands, fingers brushing away the stray strands of hair that stick to your sweaty forehead.

His voice, low and husky from exertion, fills the quiet room. "Are you alright?" he asks, his tone filled with concern.

You let out another soft moan, finding your voice. "I'm more than alright," you assure him. Your hand finds his where it rests against your cheek. You turn your head to press a kiss to his palm, the taste of him lingering on your lips.

He pulls out of you slowly, his absence immediately noticeable. You can't help but whimper at the loss of his cock, but he's quick to pull you into his arms. His chest is warm and solid against your back, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

You feel safe in his arms, cherished and loved. It's a feeling you've come to associate with him, this dream lover of yours who has captured your heart in ways you never thought possible. As he presses soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, you let out a content sigh.

You nestle closer to him, your body sated and relaxed. His fingers trace idle patterns on your chest, a simple touch that somehow feels intimate and meaningful. The steady hum of his being against your back is a soothing lullaby, lulling you towards sleep.

He murmurs something in your ear, his voice low and enchanting. You don't understand the words, but the tone of his voice, soft and affectionate, is enough to make you smile.

Date Published: 10/11/24

Last Edit: 10/11/24

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pinksirensong · 9 months ago

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𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Seven

Warnings: Language.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~2.2k

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Matthew is pissed that he had missed the ball, muttering on and on about Lord Morpheus intentionally sending him out on an errand that kept him so busy he only made it back for the last hour of the ball. You had already slipped into a deeper sleep by then, blissed out by a wonderful night that had ended so intimately that you have spent the entire next day wondering if it had even happened.

You're sipping on a hot cup of coffee, watching the city of London hustle and bustle from your apartment window. The smell of rain mingles with the faint scent of the black liquid, a combination that never fails to soothe your nerves. Your mind keeps wandering back to the ball, the grandeur of it all still fresh in your memory.

Suddenly, there's a tapping on your window. Turning around, you find Matthew perched on the window sill. His dark eyes are glinting with mischief and his feathers ruffled from his journey.

"Oh, so you finally decided to show up," you quip, opening the window to let him in. He hops onto your table, knocking over a couple of papers in his usual nonchalant manner.

"Lord Morpheus sends his regards," Matthew says in a tone that makes it clear he's still sour about missing the ball. "He hopes you enjoyed yourself… and the garden? Don't know what he meant about that but…"

"Oh I did, the shoes he gave me were marvelous," You say before taking a sip of coffee and eyeing the raven. "You want to hear what happened?

Matthew cocks his head, the way birds do when they're curious. His beady eyes are fixed on you as if he's trying to piece together the story from your face alone.

"You wouldn't believe it, Matty," you begin, taking a sip of your coffee. Your fingers tap rhythmically against the mug, the warmth seeping into your skin. "The ball was something straight out of a fairytale."

A soft chuckle escapes Matthew's beak. "Oh? And how so?"

You lean back in your chair, letting your gaze wander to the ceiling as you recall the memories. "There were dreams of all shapes and sizes, dressed in their finest. Some even wore masks made of stardust and moonlight."

Matthew preens his feathers, his gaze never leaving your face. "Sounds like quite the sight."

You nod, grinning at the memory. "The music was enchanting, and I danced with a nightmare who spun me around like we were waltzing on clouds."

Matthew's caw is soft, almost a purr. "And what about Lord Morpheus? Did he dance with you?"

"Uh, no," You reply with a wry smile. "He was too busy dodging some nymphs that desperately wanted his attention… and quite possibly more."

"Oh now you have to tell me!" Matthew says, hopping in excitement.

Your eyes light up as you recount the night's events to Matthew. "You should've seen it, Matty," you begin, trying to suppress a giggle. "Lord Morpheus was like a cat with nine lives, evading those nymphs at every turn. I almost felt bad for him…"

Matthew cocks his head, clearly interested. "Oh? How did he manage that?"

You lean back in your chair, enjoying the memory. "He was graceful as a panther, slipping through their grasp every time they reached out to him. At one point, he slipped behind a group of pixies who were dancing in the air."

Matthew's beady eyes twinkle with amusement. "Sounds like he was quite the sight."

"Oh, he was," you affirm with a nod. "He moved through the crowd like water, never missing a beat. And his eyes...you could just tell he wanted out."

"And the nymphs?" Matthew prompts.

You chuckle at the memory. "They chased him around all night. But every time they thought they had him cornered, he would just vanish into thin air. I feel bad for laughing about it but it was hilarious."

Matthew caws in laughter, flapping his wings in delight. "That's the boss for you! Always one step ahead."

You laugh along with him before settling back into your chair, your mind already drifting to other parts of the night.

Matthew cocks his head, eyes twinkling with curiosity. "And what about your Dream Lover? Did you see him at the ball?"

A chuckle escapes your lips. "Matthew, you know I don't see him," you remind him gently. The warm coffee mug in your hands is comforting, the scent wafting up and mixing with the faint smell of rain.

"Right, right," Matthew caws, ruffling his feathers. "But you met up with him, didn't you?"

You can't help but flush at that, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe," you reply coyly, enjoying the way Matthew squawks in protest.

"Oh come on, Kora! Don't leave me hanging," he insists, hopping closer on the table.

With a sigh, you set your coffee mug down and lean back in your chair. "Fine," you relent. "We met up."

Matthew practically preens with satisfaction. "And?" he prompts eagerly.

"And..." You pause for a moment, recalling the magic of that encounter. "We danced."

Matthew is silent for a moment, clearly surprised. Then he caws loudly, flapping his wings in excitement. "You danced with him?!"

You nod, a dreamy smile on your face as you recall the sensation of his arms around you, the rhythm of the dance. "Yes," you admit softly. "In a garden filled with lilacs."

Matthew cocks his head again, clearly intrigued by this revelation. He hops closer to you on the table, his beady eyes never leaving your face.

"And how was it?" he asks quietly.

"It was..." You pause for a moment, searching for the right words to describe the experience. "It was wonderful."

Your gaze flits to the clock hanging on the wall. The hands tick away the seconds, but to you, it feels like time has frozen. You find yourself yearning for the night, yearning for the Dreaming.

"You miss him, don't you?" Matthew's voice brings you back to reality.

You blink, shaking your head as if to clear it. "I... yes," you admit, surprising yourself with your honesty.

Matthew's beady eyes are sympathetic. "It's okay, Kora," he assures you. "There's nothing wrong with missing someone."

"But it's not... normal," you say, gesturing vaguely with your hand. "He's a dream... or nightmare."

Matthew caws softly, his head tilting to one side as he regards you thoughtfully. "Is he though?" he asks gently. "Is he really just a dream slash nightmare to you?"

You open your mouth to respond but close it again when no words come out. Matthew has a point. He isn't just a figment of your imagination; he's real in the Dreaming, and in a way, he's become real to you too. The realization is like a punch to the gut. It leaves you breathless, reeling with the implications of what this means.

You're in love. Real love. Not in lust, or in lust because of the incredible sex, but actual, unadulterated love.

"Oh, fuck me," you mutter to yourself in horror. A shocked silence follows your words. You stare at the raven, his beady eyes watching you closely. Matthew caws softly, an almost understanding sound.

"You've fallen for him," Matthew states, not a question but a simple fact. He ruffles his feathers, hopping closer to you on the table. "Hard."

"Yeah," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. You run your fingers through your hair, your mind racing. "Yeah, I think I have."

Matthew cocks his head to one side, studying you with an intensity that makes you uncomfortable. "You sure about that?"

"Matthew," you groan, burying your face in your hands. "I don't need the third degree right now."

He caws again, hopping back onto the window sill. His dark eyes watch you with a strange intensity before he flaps his wings and takes off into the sky.

The silence in the room is deafening after Matthew's departure. You're left alone with your thoughts and the realization that you've fallen in love with a dream... or nightmare.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes on the table, pulling you from your thoughts. You pick it up and see a message from one of your friends inviting you out for drinks tonight. You consider it for a moment before replying with a quick 'sure'. It's better than staying at home and overthinking things.

With a quick swipe of lipstick and a final check in the mirror, you're out the door and on your way to meet your friends at the bar. The London streets are busy, filled with people rushing home after a long day's work. You're glad for the distraction, anything to keep your mind from wandering back to him.

The bar is crowded when you arrive, loud chatter and laughter filling the air. Your friends wave you over from a booth in the corner. You slide into the seat next to them, ordering a drink as you join their conversation.

As you settle into the cushioned booth, your friends greet you with enthusiastic cheers and playful jabs. Overhead, the neon lights of the bar cast a soft glow on the group, setting the scene for an evening of banter and camaraderie.

"You're late, Kora!" your friend, Emma, playfully accuses, raising her glass in a mock toast. Her eyes are bright with mirth as she nudges you with her elbow.

You chuckle, taking a sip of your drink. "I had a raven to deal with," you reply cryptically, not missing the confused looks that pass between your friends.

"Oh?" Emma raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "Sounds like quite the story."

"It is," you assure her with a nod. "But it's not one for tonight."

"Fine," Emma concedes with a huff. "Then let's talk about us. Any juicy gossip?"

A round of laughter follows her words as everyone takes turns sharing their latest romantic escapades. Sarah's been seeing a guy who has an odd fascination with astrology. Mark just broke up with his girlfriend who turned out to be his boss's daughter. As each tale unfolds, you find yourself getting lost in their stories, letting their laughter and energy wash wash out your stress. It's a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of emotions that have been swirling around in your mind since Matthew's visit.

You listen to their stories with rapt attention, laughing at their jokes and offering advice when asked. Their tales of love and heartbreak are wildly different from yours, but there's a sense of shared love and heartbreak that comes from sharing these intimate details of your lives. Emma is currently dating a guy who she swears looks like Ryan Gosling… if you squint hard enough in dim lighting. Mark just started seeing someone new after his tumultuous breakup, a woman he met at a bookstore who shares his love for vintage comic books.

As they share their stories, you find yourself silently comparing their experiences to yours. The differences are stark and numerous, your lover exists only in dreams while theirs are as real as the bar around you. The night continues on like this, laughter echoing off the walls, drinks being refilled and emptied again. It's nice to forget about everything for a while, to lose yourself in your friends' stories and let go of your own worries. But your mind always goes back to him.

The night progresses and several guys approach your table. They're attractive, no doubt about that, but they're not him. They don't make your heart race or your stomach flip like he does. Still, you engage in light banter, smiling politely as they try to impress you with stories of their 'exciting' lives.

One of them, a tall guy with a charming smile and sparkling eyes, seems particularly interested in you. He's funny and charming and not at all unattractive. He's also very persistent. After a while, he asks you out on a dinner date.

You hesitate for a moment before agreeing. It's not like you're cheating on him, right? After all, he's just a dream... or nightmare. You can't be official if you haven't even seen if face or know his name.

Your friends cheer when you accept the guy's offer. They clink their glasses together in celebration as he grins at you across the table. Despite the cheeriness of your friends and the charming guy across from you, there's an ache in your chest that won't go away. It lingers there, like a stubborn cloud blocking out the sun.

You can't help but think about him as the night wears on. The way he makes you feel is incomparable to anything else. The thought of being with someone else feels wrong somehow. But this is reality and he.. isn't. He exists in another realm entirely. He already told you that you didn't belong and your place is within the waking.

With a sigh, you push these thoughts aside and focus on the man sitting across from you. He's nice and he makes you laugh; that should be enough for now. But as he talks about his job and his life, all you can think about is how different he is from him.

This date might be what you need, an anchor to reality, but it doesn't change how much your heart yearns for something more... something real yet intangible. You know one thing for certain though; accepting this date doesn't mean forgetting about him or moving on from him. It just means acknowledging reality while cherishing what happens when you close your eyes at night.

Date Published: 10/8/24

Last Edit: 10/8/24

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