#Lord Morpheus smut

[nxtaliaistyping]

Thinking about Morpheus making you ride him as punishment :(

Author’s note: oh my god the season 2 behind the scenes look has me screaming, I’m so excited. I need him back in my life.

18+ nsfw, fem reader, slight bondage

Morpheus is nothing if not an attentive lover, always putting your pleasure first. While you’re in his realm, you don’t have to lift a finger, don’t have to want for anything. He provides.

And while he spends long stretches ravaging you, of taking you apart piece by piece via his long fingers stroking your clit until you squirm and cry for him, or fingering you while your gush around his lithe digits, there’s occasionally times where he finds you…challenging.

That mouth of yours has a tendency to run rampant, undermining his authority. He is a king, a god…more than a god; an endless. And to think a bratty little mortal like you has the audacity to be in his domain, his kingdom, and demand more of his time and energy? Well, you simply need a correction. A simple reminder of your place.

So that’s why you find yourself straddling him, thighs burning as you move up and down. He looks every bit the king of dreams as he sits on his impressive throne, how high you both are allowing you to survey the room while you ride your lover to the best of your capabilities. An unseen force is keeping your hands pinned to the small of your back, not even giving you the slight relief of bracing your weight on his thighs or shoulders.

No, instead you simply have to rut against him, feeling every bit like a concubine, pleasing your ruler.

“Are you getting tired my love? That cannot be the case I’m sure, since you were so eager to have me earlier. Quite…insistent, were you not?”

You whine pitifully at his words, the ache of your limbs at the repetitive motions setting in. Morpheus doesn’t have quite the same need to cum that you do, after all you both are in the dreaming, as much a part of him as he is of it. He can withhold his orgasm for as long as needed, which seems to be long enough that you’re soaking his lap with your needy juices.

“Making a mess I see, so wanton.” He chastises, but still makes no effort to help you move.

“Please…”

“Hm?” He tilts his head, a neutral expression plastered on his regal features. “Is there something you need, dearest?”

God you just want to scream, but your outburst would most likely not help your situation, so you give him a particularly strong slam of your hips before batting your eyelashes. “Please just fuck me.”

Instead of your desired response, he simply tuts. “You misunderstand the situation. This is…correctional. Your penance if you will. After all, you were the one being especially mouthy while in my realm. So it’s only right you prove to me you’re worth the attentions of a king.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows exactly how reminding you of his status above you makes you whine and clench your pussy around him. Your body is an instrument he is especially well versed in playing.

“Perhaps I have been too accommodating to your every whim and desire. I have created a spoilt thing it seems, so used to not putting in the work to achieve what she wants. This lesson is needed.”

Knowing no other way, you fight against your bodies’ exhaustion to ride him with vigour, rolling your hips. Pleasant hums occasionally pass his lips, the minuscule praise like a drug as you move faster on his lap.

You must get too carried away, as he gives your hip a light slap. “Now now, do not allow yourself to get carried away. Remember, it’s rhythm that is important in sexual situations such as this. Not just how fast you can move your hips on me.”

At his reprimanding, you nod your understanding and mutter a soft apology, building a rhythm that works. The sheer fact you’re riding him on his throne, in his throne room, really settles in. Anyone could walk in, heaven forbid Matthew flies in and gets the shock of his (after)life.

But you can’t deny how much it turns you on, to be dream of the endless’s favourite mortal, his favourite little pet to entertain him. It’s almost power in a strange sort of way, but it thrills you nonetheless.

Eventually, your lover’s hips start to move up in time with your thrusts, causing the breath to leave your lungs quickly. Your hands are released, and you quickly move them to his shoulders, feeling the material of his black cloak under your fingertips.

“Touch yourself. Feel the pleasure that I allow you to take.”

You don’t need to be told twice, fingers hurriedly rubbing circles on your clit as he fucks up into you with tenacity. “Please…can I cum?”

“You can do better.”

A moan rips its way from your lips before you can stop it. “Please…please my king, I need to cum. Please let me cum, I won’t talk back again, I’ll be so good…please.”

A trace of a smirk tugs on his lips, and he gives a simple nod of his head. Blue eyes trace over your trembling form as you finish all over his lap. A few thrusts later, he’s buried to the hilt inside of your weeping cunt, filling you up. He allows you to slump against him, gentle fingers moving up and down your spine to soothe you, his release warm inside of your spent pussy.

“Was that to your enjoyment?” He mumbles lowly into your ear, and you can’t help the girlish giggle you make as you nod against him. His smirk is now transformed into a soft smile, not allowing you to see this moment of vulnerability as he presses kisses to your hairline.

“Do not make such demands of me again, unless you want your next punishment to not involve climax for you at all.”

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part XXV. Epilogue

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

GIF: Originally posted by @thekingofkawai​

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors. 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, AMAB oral receiving, penetrative sex (AFAB+AMAB)

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Hello there dearest readers. Here it is. The final chapter of Remember Me, Special Dreams. I won’t replicate all the sentiments I wrote about in my post here but just know that I love and appreciate every single one of you who has read this story. Until next time, all my love, Saskia ❤️

Sandman Masterlist  

-----------------  

5 Years Later

The weekend bag weighing down your dominant hand is what you focus on as you de-materialise in an eddying haze. Despite having travelled this way countless times, you still get anxious about doing it alone. Getting out of your head by connecting with your senses was a good way of diminishing the feelings but the only thing that could truly banish them was the sight of your destination, the heart of the Dreaming.

It had only been a couple of days but you had missed it keenly.

You taste the fresh, nurturing air as you gratefully inhale a breath. Welcome images of both pure realism and fantasy beam from your optic nerves to your brain. Faint sounds of ripples across the surface of the lake are a soothing soundtrack. Your tension from travelling melts away.

You journey across the bridge that leads to the front doors. Sure, you could have appeared inside the palace but you like the walk to soak in every detail of the approach and converse and check in with Dreamfolk that you see on your way.

You have timed your arrival to coincide with the end of Morpheus' audience hours in the throne room. You take the familiar route to the place now.

With a careful press of your palm, you noiselessly push one of the doors open and slip through the gap. While neither of you can see each other yet, you are aware that Morpheus knows you are here. He would have felt your presence as soon as you re-entered the Dreaming.

You leave your luggage to the side of the door frame and walk to the bottom of the curving staircase. The resplendent glass panels that serve as a backdrop eke gorgeous pastel shades over the marble that makes up the cathedral-like room.

As you look up to where Morpheus sits on his throne, a warm smile touches his rosy lips, one that you cannot help but return.

"My love," his voice oozes with the sweetness and warmth of honey and ginger.

"My Lord."

You ascend the steps, each footstep invoking a growing anticipation. To be close to Morpheus again is your only wish.

Once stood in front of him, he reaches for your hand and brings it to his mouth. His lips touch the ring on your left hand; a silver band set with a black opal. The iridescent speckles in the stone reflect colours of red, blue and green onto his pale skin.

He keeps his eyes locked with yours throughout, enhancing the intimacy.

You pull your hand away gently and rest it on the back of your neck as you are overwhelmed by the feelings blossoming in your chest.

Even after all these years, he is still able to make you giddy and delirious.

"Hi Morpheus," You say shyly.

"Hello, Y/N." He stands and puts his hands firmly on your waist. "Tell me how you are, how were your parents?"

You smile broadly as you mentally recall the weekend you had spent together. Afternoon walks and conversations that lasted long into the night. Wholesome food and non-stop tea drinking. Reminiscing and planning for the future. So much love and affection.

"It was lovely. They were on sparkling form, although they seemed a bit disappointed that you couldn't be there."

"Next time, I promise." He pulls you into an embrace. His clean, comforting scent is a balm.

You mumble your next words against his chest. "I think they might also be starting to notice that I've stopped ageing."

You are melancholy about this; their realisation means it will bring about change and you have grown quite accustomed to your life in its current guise.

"Do you regret your decision?" He whispers.

Pulling away, you cup his jaw with a hand. "Not at all. I promised forever in our wedding vows."

"And I promised to support you in times of difficulty.”

"It's okay. We always knew this day would come."

"We should decide what to tell them."

"I agree,” you lighten your tone. “But first, you must let me know how you have been."

Morpheus looks wistful. "I have missed you, My Queen, as I always do when we are apart."

"I missed you too. Especially at night."

You are referring to the necessary measure where you are shut off from the Dreaming when you spend a night in the waking world. It is something that you know saddens Morpheus, for it brings him great satisfaction to feel you enjoying dreams again after choosing to live predominantly in the Dreaming, particularly the dreams he makes especially for you.

"I thought about you a lot when I was alone," you confess in an afterthought.

Morpheus raises his eyebrows. "Did you think of anything in particular?"

"I think you can guess."

He chuckles with a playful smile. "I have an inkling but I would much prefer you tell me."

"I would much prefer to show you."

You push on his shoulders to get him to sit once more and then sink down onto your knees. Your long black coat, deliberately reminiscent of Morpheus’ own, pools about you.

“May I?” You ask as you trace an index finger around the circumference of the button on his trousers.

He nods and a little thrill electrifies your core. While it was not the first time you had done things in this room, you always find it exhilarating to be able to pleasure your King atop his throne, and even more so when you are the one taking charge of the situation.

You free his erection and steady it at the base with your hand. His tip is dripping with arousal; you lap at it with your tongue and he gasps.

His reaction makes you grin mischievously. You tease him with little licks and kisses until he is tense with need. He has never begged verbally yet you know that this state is the closest he will get to uttering the words and a cue that he is desperate.

The instinct to quell his torment is all-encompassing.

You open your lips and take him into your mouth. The groan he issues as you envelop him is guttural.

You take in as much as you can handle without bringing yourself discomfort and then look up at your husband. Lustful darkness glints in his eyes. You move.

Dragging upwards, you suck all the way to his swollen tip, swirl your tongue around and then dip back down. You repeat this at various speeds and pressures, and use your hands to provide extra sensation. Scandalous, wet noises and breathy panting fill your ears and turn you on.

You slow a little and peek up at Morpheus. His hands are gripping the arms of the throne, clearly showing the strain he is bearing in order to keep himself under control. You know that he wants to let his hips rise up. You tighten your lips and move faster to compensate. He begins to twitch.

“Y/N,” he calls.

You withdraw.

"I want you in my lap."

You stand, and as you do so the clothes covering your body dissolve into nothing. It is a feat that never fails to impress you.

Morpheus moves to sit further forward on the throne and you place yourself so your thighs are either side of his hips. His expectant expression and the feeling of skin on skin makes you quiver with delight.

You fix your attention on the enchanting, exquisite face that you adore, at the person you love so dearly and your heart stumbles. You sometimes wonder how the universe pulled this off however you are glad it managed to.

Morpheus draws your face to his and you kiss deeply, running your fingers through his wild, wispy locks. His own fingers massage your breasts and your nipples harden against his soft palms.

Without breaking the kiss, you position your entrance to hover over his cock. You pull back and look deep into Morpheus’ bottomless blue eyes.

"Do it," he says darkly, as his smouldering gaze consumes you.

You drop down with a controlled flex of your leg muscles.

The groan that rumbles in his chest is like the growl of a jaguar. Your own groan is higher in pitch but just as vehement.

You find a rhythm; a shallow yet sensual one that keeps you from knocking your knees or Morpheus' back into the upright of the seat.

You stare at each other with wonder. All that pent up longing seeps away, replaced by relief.

Your forehead falls to rest on his shoulder. From your new viewpoint, you have full sight of the place where your bodies are joined. You blink in surprise.

Literal constellations are swirling, dancing on your skin.

Shades of blue, purple and pink highlighted with twinkles of silver, they caress the insides of your thighs, hips. Everywhere that Morpheus’ skin is touching yours.

You have no idea whether he knows what he is doing.

You stop your rutting and raise your head.

"My love?" He questions with concern.

You look down again and he follows suit.

Morpheus sees the galaxies. His lips part in surprise.

He experimentally trails his fingers up your neck and across your jaw. You can’t see however you know that the same is happening because of his expression of fascination.

His hands are then everywhere. Brushing over your lips, eyelids, breasts, stomach, leaving stars in his wake. He's painting you with his very essence. Making you shine with the same radiance of the ceiling above you.

He then places a palm over your heart. “I love you, Y/N,” he intones delicately.

“I love you, Morpheus.”

You kiss again before you grip the back of the chair and lift yourself up a little. Morpheus' hands grasp your hips and making full use of the newly created space, he begins to pump up into you.

Burying your face against his neck, you gasp with every thrust as he hits a spot inside you that makes you feel like you are on the way to losing your composure.

You allow him to do it. You let yourself be swept by his currents, higher and higher into the boundless night sky above you.

He then makes a sound that has been echoing in your mind since the very first time you had sex. A deep, drawn out moan of pleasure that makes your walls start to constrict.

You relish the cooling flood of liquid that he spills inside you and the shuddering of his release triggers your own. Morpheus' long fingers then engulf your clit with sweet friction and your body arches with ecstasy.

You are suspended, floating in the vacuum of space. The stars that float around you, the same as the ones marking your skin.

Your lips are forming a single word. His name, but you can't hear the sound in your current orbit.

Morpheus' voice pulls you back through the atmosphere and down to somewhere more grounded.

He is murmuring praises that tickle the shell of your ear.

You are weak, unable to reply with anything but laboured breaths. Your legs shake so much that you are afraid you will fall if you try to get up. All you can do is cling to him like a koala on a eucalyptus tree.

Morpheus stands, still buried inside you. Your surroundings transform into your bed chamber.

You whimper when you feel your centre of balance shift as he goes to lay you down on the sheets. You don’t want to leave the safety his arms provide.

"Relax, my love," he murmurs.

He lets his cock slip out from your warmth. Pillows cushion the back of your head and cotton meets your bare skin. He clears his release away with a wave of his hand and drapes the covers over your exhausted frame. Suddenly, he is gone from your vision field.

"Morpheus?" You sound fearful.

"I am here, Y/N." He reassures.

He settles into the space beside you. You smile as you feel his hands stroking your face. Soothing you this way was something he excelled at.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

You shake your head, fighting to keep your eyes open. “No, thank you.”

He presses a kiss to your temple.

"Sleep, my love. I will watch over you until you wake."

It was such an inviting idea. The light in the room begins to dim, as if Morpheus has read your thoughts.

You give in to the lull, but before you are drawn under, you grab onto Morpheus’ hand.

"Don't leave me, please," you implore.

He lies down beside you and pulls you flush against his chest with his lithe arms.

His reply is a promise, spoken with his usual sibilance of storm clouds and sea breezes, a promise that would last for eternity.

"I wouldn't dream of it.”

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

"So let me sleep where I live. With a murder of crows that live in the boughs of my brain. See me when I float like a dove. The skies above are lined with trees. I'm on my knees, I'm singing please. Come and take me away."

A/N II: A happy ending! Hope you enjoyed it. Would love to know your thoughts. Have a good evening ❤️

Also. Send help. I watched The Boat That Rocked and On The Road last week and I am now more in love with Tom than ever.

Taglist: @pinkcyclewitch ​@layla2-49 ​ @shoidy-cat @silverhart93 ​ @boofy1998 ​ @dotieeee ​ @ponysboy-sunsets @fangirlmary ​ @littledollll ​ @fatimakinney @jamiethenerdymonster ​ @rosaren2498 ​ @mr-sandman-bring-me-a-dream ​​ @madiebear ​​ @sandman-33 ​​ @sallysal9 ​​ @asiludida164 ​​ @elf-punk ​​ @grungeisntmything ​​ @sapphireonline ​​ @seninjakitey ​ @emarich7 ​

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You: A for Aphrodisiac

Summary: On a quest to save your little brother, you and your fated companion Dream of the Endless, run into a small problem in Aphrodite's Temple.

Notes: ~2.2k words, GUYS! I finally wrote a fic that wasn't below 500 or above 5,000 words, it just doesn't need any random side characters... or a definitive plot.

Warnings: MDNI - 18+, dubious consent, sex pollen, aphrodisiac (duh), porn without plot, unprotected sex (get tested yearly guys), P in V, no foreplay just straight fucking, Dream is a red flag but he's my red flag. I am willing to die on that hill.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

B for Breeding

“A temple of Aphrodite?” You question as you walk through the marbled entrance. The overwhelming smell of roses fills your senses and the honks of swans disappear as you cross into the building.

Morpheus follows closely behind. The drizzle of rain seemingly bounces off his coat and hair leaving him dry like the Sahara. On the other hand, you, the poor human with no otherworldly affiliations, were soaked to the bone. Your light jacket and sundress stuck to your skin until it became itchy and you quickly take off your jacket to dry easier in the momentary shelter. 

You miss the way Morpheus stares at your exposed shoulders and legs. His eyes run up and down your body, to the way the dress sticks to you like a second skin.

“Aphrodite loved Ares, unlike her vowed husband. But such is the game of gods.” Morpheus explains and peels his eyes away from you. 

You lean on a large pillar that supports a large brazier, one of many others. The heat helps you warm up and the shivers slowly leave your body as it dries your clothes. 

“So, Ares is… here?” You say without much confidence.

When the fates set you out on this quest to find your brother, you hadn’t even packed your lunch yet. They just threw you to the wind and then gave you Morpheus as a guide. As for him, it was so “He could get out of the house more” as his older sister has explained it to you. 

So, here you were, soaked in summer rain and sharing conversation with Dream of the Endless on a quest to find your kidnapped brother - all of which happened since this morning. The everything bagel and cream cheese you had for breakfast sat uncomfortably in your stomach, the same stomach that was screaming at you to eat something as your journey had left you to skip the midday meal. 

“Ares is behind this gate created by Aphrodite,” Dream sighs as if he were spelling out the obvious. “Yes, it is a possibility.”

You simply roll your eyes. For someone who is almost infinitely older than you, he certainly didn’t act like it. Feeling warmer and dry you started exploring the temple, running your fingers across the divots in the carved stone much like the climbing ivy that decorated the walls. 

At the end of the temple stood a magnificent statue of Aphrodite herself, wrapped in cloth and her hair flowing in the wind. Beneath her pedestal, you could make out a rectangular outline made out of large roses. 

“Hey! The door!” You exclaim in excitement. As much as you hate to admit it, Morpheus was right. He usually was right but you’d rather keep that comment to yourself, in case the ego inflates any more of his head and he drifts off. Which, would unfortunately leave you on your own to solve these puzzles. 

Morpheus appears behind you, peering over your shoulder at the door. 

“Seems like a hidden mechanism. It would be wise to not touc-”

You press your palm onto the center of the door and it gives away to the pressure of it. 

“You fool!” Morpheus seethes out and you tense. 

It seems like a trap, now that you think about it. With bated breath you wait, slowly inching yourself closer to Morpheus in hopes that the King of Dreams may be able to protect you if something were to go wrong. 

Yet, nothing. 

The door slides back into place, the sound of marble against marble scraping against each other in the otherwise completely quiet sanctuary. The quiet atmosphere stays peaceful for a few seconds but ends when a yelp escapes you when the roses suddenly go into full bloom, the petals giving a “floosh” right in your face, its sweet pollen dusting both of your bodies. You stare wide-eyed at it waiting for anything else to happen. When nothing did, you let out a sigh of relief and turn to Dream with a smile. 

“See, nothing to worry about.” You shrug with your palms facing upwards. The two of you stare back as a golden engraving appears on the door. 

“One from two, enter together.” You read out loud while trying to dust off the shimmering pollen, sneezing when some enter your nose instead. 

Great, a riddle but nothing comes to your mind as you think. Morpheus glares at you still and his eyes drift down to the palm that touched the door. 

“Your hand is glowing,” He states. 

You look down at your open palm and panic. The skin is bright pink and as Morpheus has stated, glowing. You scream at your hand and shake it aggressively. When the glowing still doesn’t reside you scream again and face the palm towards Morpheus’ face and shake it aggressively to grab his attention. 

“Enough,” He commands and grabs your wrist. The grip is stern but it doesn’t hurt and the warmth of his skin calms you down. 

It is now that you realize that the skin doesn’t actually hurt. There’s no burning sensation or pins or needles, nothing. Morpheus takes a closer look at your hand and you can feel the exhale of his breath fanning your palm. It tickles and you try to pull away, but his grip doesn’t relent. 

“What? Do you see something?” You ask, your other hand is clenched in on itself as a way of grounding yourself. 

Morpheus doesn’t entertain you with an answer and instead brings his face closer. A sound that you didn’t know you could produce comes out from your throat as you feel the warm, slick feeling of his tongue on your palm. 

“Wha..mm” Your words fall short and he licks again and a whimper leaves your lips. You look up at him, his eyes are closed as he inhales deeply.

He brings your hand to his cheek and leans into it. When you release your hand and he lets you, you see that your glowing mark has smeared to his cheek. You come in closer, nervous about marking the Endless but he stops you again. He peers at you, all silver gone from his eyes and instead blown pupils pull you deep into their voids. 

His hands find themselves around your waist and you place your hands on his chest to stop him from invading any more of your space. It doesn’t and he advances still. His brooding act doesn’t help with voicing whatever he could possibly be thinking. 

“Hey, what’s gotten into you,” You release a moan at the end when he presses his nose to the junction of your neck. The hot breath released from his mouth had your lower regions start to grow hot and slick. 

When his tongue licks the length of your neck, your fingers grasp desperately at the lapels of his jacket, holding on tight as your knee buckle beneath you. Morpheus smelled like grass after a summer thunderstorm and he stood sturdy like an old oak tree. 

You whisper his name and his grip tightens more, bruising and unforgiving. 

He groans into your neck. “Aphrodisiac.” 

Of course, Aphrodisiac, named after the goddess Aphrodite, the very goddess you are trying to please and solve her riddle. The thought crosses your mind momentarily but it is quickly cut short by Morpheus’ continued administration. The pink stain spreads further on Morpheus, anywhere and everywhere you touch him. Your cheek was pink as well, where he touched yours and markings of his tongue glowed pink as he continued his kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. 

“Oh, gods,” You moan into his hair as he dives deeper towards your chest. Your body is turning hot and you can’t tell if it’s just the aphrodisiac or the way he is touching you. Perhaps it’s neither, perhaps it’s both. Either way, you can’t stop the sounds that escape your lips. 

He presses forward and you step back until your back hits the pedestal and Morpheus’ large frame follows, trapping you between a rock and a harder place. You can feel his erection pressing against your stomach, hot and heavy and begging to be released. 

With restraint, Morpheus pulls back and pants into your neck. Your own breath was ragged, your tongue felt heavy when you speak. 

“Please,” You whisper, your hands travel down his chest, pink smearing along his black shirt, and cup his erection. 

He looks at you now, eyes peering into your soul asking you if you really did want this. You nod, not trusting your voice for a second time. 

“Say it,” He commands again, his forehead pressed against yours. “Say it,” He whispers in a plea. 

You tip your head up and respond with the strength you have left. “Yes,” You murmur against his lips, barely brushing yours with his own. 

He seals the deal with a kiss and hands once again go to your waist. He grabs you, hoisting you up and your legs immediately wrap themselves around his lean torso. You impatiently grind your heat into his as he dips his hands below your dress line and moves your undergarments to the side. 

It was rushed, it was sloppy and it was nowhere near romantic, yet you’ve never felt so much excitement. No one was near but the peering gaze of the daunting Aphrodite statue made you feel exposed. Morpheus doesn’t bother to warm you up for him and the heat of his cock presses against your cunt. He pushes forward and it stings. Tears swell in your eyes at the intrusion, his cock splitting you open as he sets a rhythmic pace. 

“Forgive me, forgive me,” He chants into your ear but the words fly in one ear and out the other. The pleasure the Dream Lord was giving you more important and present in your mind. 

Your hand reaches into his hair and grabs onto his roots. A groan sings from his throat and you can’t help it when your lips connect to his Adam’s apple. You leave bruising kisses along his neck and continuously feel the vibrations of his moans, each one low and gritty. 

Morpheus felt like he was about to lose his mind if he didn’t quickly finish the two of you off. His body felt like it was on fire and his head pounded in his skull with ideologies of fucking you until you were nothing but a pile of pleasure. When your nails grip his shoulders, he welcomes the pain and bites down on your collarbone to suppress his wanton moans. 

You were too sweet for him, a type of innocence that he didn’t want to taint. Tears well up in his eyes as he realizes that he did it without him even knowing. The aphrodisiac completely consumes the two of you. He loved it, the feeling of your legs wrapped around his waist, your grip on his hair, your moans filling the space and echoing around the temple, but were not his to take. 

“More, more, more,” You moan, head thrown back towards the ceiling and he couldn’t deny you the pleasure.

His thrusts become ferocious, slamming into you harder and harder until you were just a babbling mess in front of him. Your words range from his name to curses to simple pleas. The contractions of your cunt spasming around him make him falter for a moment but he presses on. When your orgasm reaches you, your scream is muffled by his open mouth kiss. His thrusts turn sloppy and uneven before he finishes as well and you feel the way his cock pulses within you. His semen drips out of your spent hole and mixes with your release on the polished marble floor. 

Your body deflates as the orgasm finishes and you’re left panting and leaning on Morpheus as your thighs tremble around his waist. The door behind you opens with an ungodly scrapping sound and you look behind you. Lust was still evident in your eyes but you were pulled back to the real world again. 

The aphrodisiac wore off and a blush rose high into your cheeks. You push against Morpheus’ chest not wanting to be in his space, asking him to put you down, but quickly realize that it was a bad idea when your knees buckle and you start to fall. 

Morpheus grabs onto you to steady you and you murmur a thanks, too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes. The aphrodisiac has made you look at Morpheus in a different light, but there were more important matters at hand. You take one steady breath and readjust your underwear and dress, Morpheus releases his grip on your arms as you go to turn towards the open door. 

Beyond the door is nothing but darkness with a slight wind blowing out towards you and the smell of metal and leather comes into your nose. Before you can go, Morpheus’ fingers wrap around your arm again. 

“Should we… talk about it?” He asks in that low voice of his. 

You look back at him, somehow finding the confidence to look at him in the eyes. You find that they are full of adoration and passion that it turns your eyes downwards again. You’ve heard the rumors of what it means to be the lover to Dream of the Endless. It is rainbows and butterflies, the world at the edge of your fingertips, but one wrong move, and you are cast away like you were less than nothing. You think of Nada, Queen of the First People, who is still condemned to Hell for declining his promise to make her queen of the Dreaming. 

It’s too much, you have your brother to save, and there is no room to talk about love. 

“Later,” You say instead. You still need his help and if the promise of ‘later’ keeps him around long enough until the end of your quest, then so be it. 

“Very well. Later,” He repeats then follows you into the realm of Ares.

B for Breeding

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Want to be added to my tag list for my future fics? Comment, send me a message, or a DM and I'll add you!

This is going to be a 26 part series, all porn, no plot hehe ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)

Until the next fic,

♡ Yours, Layla

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin-r]

Fluff

Morpheus turns to me, serious. "You are my star, it's barely been a year and yet you've wounded yourself so deeply into my life. In all my centuries alive I cannot say I truly lived before meeting you." He lift my hand to his lips and kisses the inside of my palm bowing towards me. An endless is bowing to me?

"Morpheus, I don't deserve you and your pretty words..."

"You don't, you deserve more than i can ever give you but i will try, to know you return my affections is enough for me and your heart." Him calling his own heart yours has your eyes leaking.

He pulls you to him quickly. Forehead against yours. "My sister will not take you from me. I promise you that. Infact she likes you too much to do such a thing."

[morpheusbaby3]

me trying to get into heaven:

god:

[thevampiremarie]

Do you ever just write something and you’re like. I need to go to confession. I need to be assigned Hail Marys. I need to buy an indulgence so that I can go to Heaven.

[darklinsblog]

Shaping a Dream | Sandman Imagine

Summary: After his years of imprisonment Morpheus is in need of company, Lucienne suggests one of Morpheus’ creations as she has had a crush on her Lord for many eons. 

Pairing: Morpheus x Dream!Reader

Requested: Yes

Author’s note: Reader has no gender at first but then takes a female gender! P.S highkey didn’t want to post this cause it’s awful welp

The Dreaming had suffered greatly from the Lord’s absence, seeing him return gave you hope but it also hurt to see him so distressed, knowing you couldn’t do anything for him.

You were an angelic creation of his, one of his very first dreams he had ever made and for that he had always kept a particular affection for you.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t admire your creator, and with the eons, that admiration flourished onto a hushed love you kept under the rug.

Prior to the painful absence of the king, other dreams and nightmares would constantly tease you about your particular interest in the ruler.

It was so well known at one point that the librarian and right hand of the king ended up finding out centuries ago but decided to keep that piece of information to herself.

Until now.

Morpheus was over the edge, stressed, with too many things of urgent matter to handle all at once, he was rebuilding a whole kingdom and it was no easy task.

Lucienne thought about a particular idea days after the return of the king, an idea she had to be very careful to put on the table.

“My lord…” she started off saying, almost giving herself time to structure in a million ways what she was about to suggest.

The Endless turned to her and she took a quiet leap of bravery as she took a breath

“Have you thought of the idea that some… company, may be what you need?” She stopped right there, not wanting to say more, but by the look in the king’s face, he knew exactly what she was implying merely by the way she articulated the word “company”.

“I do not dispose of time to look for such company and…”

“I know who would be a fitting choice. If you wish to know, of course” Lucienne hurried up to say before her bravery went away. With this comment, the Prince of Stories seemed particularly intrigued.

“Who may this choice be?” He asked cautiously.

“Y/N, my lord. From what I’ve heard they has a unique affection for you and being a creation of your own you may alter her biology to your needs” the last bit of the sentence she explained in a bit of a hush.

The Endless would be lying if he said the idea of it being Y/N made it all much more appealing than it seemed at first.

He decided to consider the offer, keeping an eye on you, focusing so much on each little detail about you, from your hair, to your lips, down to every curve and angle possible in your figure.

If he focused enough on you, his arousal was undeniable.

His mind was made up, he had to have you. But he had to be cautious about it, he did not want to startle you by making a direct proposal. So instead, he created all sorts of “coincidences” to be around you more, to test if the rumors were actually founded.

At any chance he could get, he would look for any sort of skin contact, like grazing your hand delicately, standing close to you, touching your arm softly.

In every one of his attempts of closeness he would study your reactions, from the way you would play with your hair, the way you would twitch and blush slightly or how he would feel your eyes watching him from time to time.

That and the fact he could sense your nervousness and the way your heart would skip a beat every time he would stare at you.

Having proof of your quiet affections for him he decided to open the conversation of company with you.

He decided to invite you to the library, he requested for it to be empty, so he could talk freely, he wanted to approach this in a place where you felt comfortable.

“Y/N there was something I wished to speak about”

“Speak your mind, my lord” you said quietly, genuinely intrigued for the matter.

“You are aware of how my absence affected the Dreaming…”

“Of course” Morpheus cleared his throat

“…but it too, had an impact on myself, and regardless of the shame it evokes me to admit it, I am in need of an specific sort of companion”

You stood there, blinking a few times taking in all the information he was providing you, you were already figuring out where this was going but you needed to hear it with the exact words.

“I have being thinking that you would be the company I seek” he said directly, stepping quietly closer to you, grabbing your neck and swiftly and pulling you closer.

Finally your lips found one another an it felt like heaven. His hands wondered about your body, tempting, sensing, feeling overflowed by his arousal.

“May I do some… alterations to you, my sweet dream?” He requested you breathlessly in between kisses, having alterations was nothing new to you. Every single dream and nightmare created had had alternations over the ages, but this having merely the sexual purpose made it extremely thrilling.

“You may…” you said letting your arousal tint your voice, now his hands delicately wondered down your body, sneaking inside the fabric of your dress, creating what he was seeking for physically

Feeling the new addition to your body was foreign, it felt… sensitive and the king began expertly touching you, tempting on the new bundle of nerves.

Making you shiver and forget how to function properly, as he touched you and had you buckling to him you felt even more like one of his creations.

Like your only purpose was be there to suffice his every need and drown in the ecstasy of it all.

The look in his eyes, the infinite lust staring at you as he pleased you was driving you insane.

You could feel yourself growing wetter under his touch as you chanted the king’s name as if you were under a spell

Morpheus had never been caught up in lust like this, every touch, every sensation felt like the Endless was burning to the bone.

It wasn’t until having you trapped in his body, feeling the pleasure he was serving you that he realized how much he truly needed this sort of company.

A few days had passed ever since you were with the king, and you noticed how he was always somehow looking at you, making you feel protected.

He was particularly interested in listening to you and always kept somewhat of physical touch with you.

You hadn’t told anyone about what happened with Morpheus or what was currently happening as the atmosphere between you two changed from the minute you dived into pleasure.

This was something that had him intrigued, he could feel your admiration and affection towards him grow, but you did not allow that to come into the surface.

He was your creator and even then, he wasn’t able to solve the mystery within you, why or how did you managed to lurk into his subconscious without truly trying?

You had only satisfied him and resumed your life as normal, while he was finding himself stumbling upon the thought of you at his every move.

Had he developed some kind of deep rooted feelings towards you?

Tag list:

@emiemiemiii @ladyfairenvale @hungrhay @aurorarevenclaw1927 @adishax @meganmayhem89 @mrs-captainsteverogers @hb8301 @sarahbullet235 @bambooing-shenanigans @queenshelby @characterxreaderimagine @emarich7 @carolcrysis @sister-of-stars @coolsnowker @sandman-33 @jesllianaquilesrolon @supermegapauselouca

[thepaintedlady00]

Ok cool! In that case can you write a Morpheus x reader where the reader hears about Morpheus other lovers and she feels unworthy and her mood plummets.Morpheus of course notices immediately and asks her what’s wrong and after a bit of coaxing she tells him everything that’s been on her mind and that even if she will be just one of the string of lovers he will have in the future she’s glad she got a chance to love him.Morpheus is understandably horrified that she would think that and in order to convince her otherwise they have a very intimate ✨moment✨😏 Where Morpheus tells her how much he loves her and states that she may not be his first lover but she will be his last and he proposes and offers to make her his queen and an endless of equal standing beside him (obviously she says yes)

One tender smut piece coming right up my friend! 🥰

You'd known there were others before you. You weren't naive. But knowing was one thing and seeing was another. As you stared in awe at the Muse Calliope you could feel a wave of dread and doubt settle in your stomach, twisting everything inside you into tight knots. She was far more beautiful than you, an immortal being of pure inspiration was going to be, but on top of that beauty she was so kind and so... Perfect.

Dream had made it clear that the two of them weren't meant to be, especially after the death of their son. He'd said some words, some things just could never be forgotten between them. Looking at the pair of them now though, it didn't feel like they'd lost an ounce of whatever spark of passion that had brought them together. It was painful for you, even though you'd trusted him and loved him and was happy that he'd agreed to open his realm to her.

You'd say none of this to him, of course, he wouldn't understand. It wasn't like you had any lovers that could even compare to the beautiful, powerful Dream of the Endless. But late that night long after Calliope had gone the weight hadn't followed her. You found yourself laying in your shared bed, thinking of how many lovers he'd had before you... Of how each of them were probably more beautiful and stronger and better than you could ever hope to be.

These thoughts would transfer to your dreams when you finally managed to sleep. And in your dreams these thoughts were ones that your lover could hear.

Dream was finishing his work when the sound of taunting voices began. They were dark and hushed, but they sounded like you. He followed them all the way into your dream, or rather your nightmare. It was hardly the worst he'd seen, but the fact that it was you made his heart clench. You sat in front of a mirror, images of lovers from his past hovering over your reflection, over accentuating your flaws. Behind you a shadowed version of yourself stood, claws digging deep into your shoulders as it whispered vile things in your ears.

"You will never be as beautiful as them."

"You will never be a goddess or muse. You will only ever be human. Dull. Weak. Boring."

"He loved them more."

"You're holding him back."

"You will never be them."

Dreams hands clenched into fists. "Enough, nightmare. Leave us."

The nightmare that had been perched on your shoulder turned and shifted back to its natural form, bowing to Dream and slithering away to whatever victim awaited it. You remained frozen in front of the mirror, tears staining your cheeks as he came to stand behind you.

He kissed the angry marks on your shoulders, cold hands smoothing up and down your back as he wound his arms around you. "It is over, my love. The nightmare has passed."

You shook your head. "It won't pass. It can't because it's true."

His brows furrowed as he looked at you in the mirror. "Why would you think such things?"

"I'm not..." You sighed. "I'm never going to be like them."

"I do not want you to be like them," he whispered. "You are perfect just as you are."

"Morpheus I'm-"

He turned your head and pressed his lips to yours, swallowing the words and lapping up the sour feeling they left on your tongue until all that remained was him. You were breathless when he pulled back and stroked your wet cheeks. "I'll hear no more of this."

Breathing in the intoxicating smell on his coat you sighed. "It's not that simple."

"Perhaps not," he agreed, turning you to face him. "Perhaps a demonstration is long overdue."

Your brows furrowed as you looked up at him. "Demonstration?"

Dream merely smiled. "Of course, I can think of no better way to show you exactly how perfect you are."

The dream faded, gliding across your mind like strands of silk until at last you woke up. Your lover stood at the foot of the bed, neatly folding his coat over the edge of it before turning to you with a tender gaze. Your heart beat wildly in your chest as he moved toward you, carefully kneeling beside you to take your hand in both of his and press a soft kiss to it. He moved up your arm slowly, purposefully kissing every inch of your skin before he finally reached your shoulder.

"Morpheus," you breathed out.

He smiled, as he often did when you said his name like that. "Yes my love?"

"What are you doing?"

"I am worshipping you." With one thought from him your clothes vanished leaving you trapped between the silk sheets and the silk of Dreams wandering hands.

Oh, this is what he meant. "Morpheus, you don't have to-"

"I am Dream of the Endless," he breathed against your skin. "The King of dreams and the ruler of the nightmare realms. Do you think I would do something I did not wish to?"

You shook your head, biting your lower lip to try and mask the way his voice alone sent shivers of heat and want through you. "No. But, I still wanted you to know this isn't necessary."

He chuckled at that. "On the contrary, worship is essential when hoping to please a goddess."

Those lips of his moved up your neck. "I'm not a goddess."

"You are to me," he whispered in your ear. "Now, no more words my dreamer. Just give me those sweet moans."

Your lips crashed together in a dance of opposites. The warmth of your skin practically hissed beneath your lovers icy touch as his hands explored the plains of your back. You pushed, desperate to meet his enthusiasm with that of your own, and he pulled willing to take everything you offered to him. Being touched, loved, by the Dream Lord was consuming in the best possible way.

Dream finally pulled back, cradling your head in his hands as he moved his lips down your throat, tongue darting out to taste your skin, as he made his way down your body. His chilled breath fanned across your nipple, bringing it swiftly to a peak as he wrapped his mouth around the hardened bud. It should've been considered a sin, the things he could do with his mouth alone that made you moan and writhe beneath him.

Your breaths were heavy as he moved his attention to the other breast, nipping at your skin lightly before giving it the same attention he'd given the other. "Morpheus," you whined as the sensation grew near unbearable.

He chuckled, running his palms down your sides to grip your hips tightly. "Worship cannot be rushed, my love."

"Could you just fuck me then?" you asked, the teasing in your tone almost vanished as he kissed down your stomach.

"I could," he admitted.

"But you won't?"

His hands slid beneath your thighs, easing them apart as his glowing eyes met yours. "Patience, my dear."

Your back arched off the bed when his tongue licked a long, languid strip up your core, brushing against your clit in a deliciously slow display. Dream smirked, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before returning his mouth to where you wanted him most. Once again he brought you far too much pleasure with his tongue alone, spending hours between your thighs basking in the way your thighs trembled around his head and how you cried out his name and pulled his hair. He groaned as one of his fingers penetrated your hot, pulsing core, moving slowly and gently to help work yet another orgasm from your sweet lips.

Devotion was something Dream of the Endless knew well, he had yours and you had his, getting this chance to show you such was a blessing far beyond what he deserved. "Morpheus," you begged between heaving breaths.

"Is your head finally free of those horrid thoughts, my love?"

You nodded quickly. "Yes."

"Tell me, what thoughts have replaced them?"

"You," was your only answer, one that made pride flare within his chest.

His lips moved back up your body, kissing every tender piece of flesh that he knew drove you wild. "Good, let's keep it that way for a moment longer."

Magic rid him of his clothes with ease, leaving nothing between him and your soft heated skin. Dream kissed you, swallowing the sharp wanton moan that you let loose as he wasted no time splitting you open with his cock. Your body trembled beneath him, the waves of your previous pleasure beginning to stir once again. "Morpheus."

Burying his face into the crook of your neck he pulled his hips back slowly, drawing out another long moan from your lips as he too felt shivers of delight run down his spine. You were heavenly, mind body, and soul. These intimate moments with you made it difficult for him to keep his composure. "You are divine," he told you. "The way you sing beneath me could rival that of the most inspired composers."

Your hands latched onto him, finding purchase in his hair and clawing at his back. "Please."

He smiled down at you, caging your head between his arms. "Command me, my love. Tell me what you want and it shall be yours."

"Fuck me," you answered instantly. Your eyes, darkened with pleasure, met his as you pulled at him more desperately. "Please Morpheus."

Fuck you he would. The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoed in his room as The Dreaming seemed to swallow the sounds just as greedily as he did. Your orgasm came swiftly as did the one that followed as he continued to fuck you through it. You had no concept of time when all you could feel was him and every thought that occupied your mind was little more than prayers whispered in his name.

When his hips finally began to falter, his hands fisting into the sheets beside your head, you looked up into his eyes and arched your back. Your lips traced down his throat as he threw his head back, finally losing his iron-clad grip on that famous kingly composure and fucking you in earnest. You adored these brief moments where his power rolled off your skin like satin lightning and whispers of shadow. You adored the way his touch burned and bruised as he lost himself in the pleasure.

After you'd caught your breath and your body finally ceased shivering he stroked your skin, still wet with a sheen of sweat and gently asked the question that had troubled him so, "Why did you not tell me Calliope's presence made you feel such things?"

"Morpheus," you moaned against his throat. A shuddering breath left him as he moved his hips harder and faster into you. "Please."

It was amazing how one word whispered so reverently from your lips could make him come undone. Amazing how his body memorized the way it felt as you came with him. Amazing how such a primal thing as sex felt sacred now that he had you. He gently rolled off you, keeping you tightly tucked into his chest as the two of you silently recovered in the softness of his bed and each other's arms.

With a sigh you lifted your head to look deep into his star filled eyes and with a smile. "Because it isn't her fault, and it's not yours either. Calliope is someone you love, not in the way you did, but she's still important to you. Her visit was important for both of you and I would never even think of robbing you of that just because I was feeling insecure."

"Your feelings are just as important as mine," he insisted. "What can I do if these thoughts return?"

With a smile you shimmied even closer to him. "I think your demonstration was quite helpful."

Dream brushed his nose against yours. "Then, next time you feel this way come to me. Tell me that my perfect dreamer is in need of worship and I shall see to it."

"I love you."

"As I love you, dreamer."

[fauxraven]

Nuala of the Faerie x Dream of the Endless

Brewing in my drafts lays a Sandflower one-shot meant to fuel my most recent obsession 👀

Be sure to turn on post notifications !

Status: completed ✔️

Release date: 03/05/23

Warnings: language, smut, Cluracan (we don’t like him), Dream being Dream

Art by the lovely Stephanie Bonnètt on IG

[snowdeen]

Definitely one of my favourite yan!Morpheus fic of all times! 100% recommended if you are up for something dark and twisted:))

The Dream That Got Away

Masterlist

Premise:

Morpheus creates you, a Dream that inspires passion in humanity for their daily tasks and helps them discover what they want in life. He names you Mera, derived from the Greek word ‘meraki,’ meaning ‘to do something with passion, with absolute devotion, with undivided attention.’ Perhaps it’s you, his own creation, who inspires him, for he realizes his true want for companionship, and it’s you he decides to fulfill that need. So, what if, after his capture for more than a century, he finds you in love with a mortal and hears of your plans to run away from the Dreaming, from him, forever?

Status: COMPLETE, will revisit for edits

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

Multi-chapter fic

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43126099

************************************************************

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don’t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

************************************************************

Keep reading

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 8)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

GIF: Originally posted by @darklinsblog

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Nightmares. Violence. Dub/non con. Kissing. Nudity. AFAB + AMAB penetrative sex. Unprotected sex. Plot related cigarette use. Language.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Hello there! I wasn't intending on posting this chapter until I had the others finished but I guess Tumblr took that decision away from me and published instead of saving! Oh well, guess I'll roll with it. As always, I hope you enjoy and would be very happy to hear your thoughts. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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

The combination of the darkened clouds and the even more desaturated décor is making the room despairingly claustrophobic.

Sporadic breaths rattle up and down your trachea; a remnant of the fear that had been created by the tail end of that conversation. You are struggling to make sense of the direction it had taken; the barrelling downward spiral whereby you discovered your newfound status.

No longer do you hold the lone title of soulmate. You are a captive.

At least that's what Morpheus made it sound like. The word is shudder inducing and a fresh trickle of bile spills into your mouth.

The door he left through, the one blocking your freedom, you are standing close enough to it that you can see every grain and groove of the ebony wood - and the curious absence of a handle or lock. With a flattened hand you gingerly press against the varnished surface, upping the pressure when you don't appear to have tripped any alarms. There's no movement no matter how hard you push, not that you really anticipated any. Morpheus said locked in for a reason. Regardless, you feel that you needed to try just in case he had changed his mind. Again, an eventuality that you do not expect.

You get the sense that Morpheus' grasp of stubbornness would rival that belonging to a group of at least 100,000 people; he is a ruler, and a centuries-old one at that. Accustomed to being in control, well versed in the art of exerting it.

He's chilling too. That nightmare quality really won out just now. You have seen darkness in his eyes before, (brought on by intense moments including sexual desire) and the effects he can have on the environments surrounding him, but this was a whole new breed.

The deflection. The disdain. The remorselessness. How the shadows had danced around him like crude oil twisting in water, a cloak of obscurity and energy to drive you away and leave you isolated.

And your relentlessness was the catalyst for it being unleashed. You're unsure as to why you brought up the theoretical consequences of refusing to be his soulmate. It had just slipped out. There were numerous other ways in which you could have handled the situation yet that was the conversational path you took.

You shudder again, wrapping your arms around your middle in an attempt to self-soothe. It provides a measure of relief but also draws attention to the fact that he should be doing this. Morpheus should be holding you. Talking this through with you.

Instead he left you standing on the marble floor, the intrinsically endothermic nature of the material causing iciness to seep up your legs via your bare feet.

Seeking warmth, you move back to the bed and dejectedly lie down.

The usual covered plate of food has appeared on the bedside table; your expression is so obviously rattled that you can see every detail despite the metal's distortion. You roll over, not wanting to contemplate eating for even a second.

Your entire body is tense, with epicentres in your tight chest and thought-clogged brain, the latter of which is showing signs of inducing a migraine. You breathe with steady intent, a review of the encounter relentlessly replaying.

One question keeps rising to the surface, getting louder and more insistent with each iteration:

Why was he doing this?

He had said it was to protect you. That it was dangerous outside. Was the dream world suddenly that different now that you had free will? Surely he would have led with that if it were true. Found a way to make it safe...

He's been unfalteringly devoted to you in every other way thus far. The aftercare looked to be proof enough of his character. The reassurance, and explanations during the soul-tying. Holding you. Staying beside you while you slept, even though he did not require the rest himself.

But then there is the distinct lack of sharing, both of his internal and external worlds, and of course the 'it is not your place to do so' comment.

That one really stings. You had been convinced that you were his equal. Yet the way the words fell so easily from his mouth, without hesitation nor any sign of an underpinning emotion - it sounded like a response that was not uttered in the heat of the moment.

How were you to know though?

You've not known him for that long and it's not like you can tell from the bond between you, even now after days of longing to and trying to pick up on something, anything that would inform you of his heart. The one thing you can attempt to read into is the state of the ceiling sky; you are getting a sense that it is linked directly to his moods. Its sudden deterioration the moment you had voiced your concerns couldn't have been a coincidence, could it?

The more you grapple for meaning, the harder you are finding it to reconcile the evidence before you, so conflicted on your opinion of him, of the situation. Yet no amount of speculation and reframing could take away from the few facts you have:

The Fates had told you of an unfathomably long imprisonment that Morpheus had endured and suffered in.

So why was he putting you in a parallel of that?

How can someone who is supposed to be your soulmate be so unreadable to you, and so inexplicably cruel?

You curl into a ball, groaning out loud in frustration.

You ponder if there is something defective within you, if he can see something that you are too human to perceive. Maybe you deserve this on some level because you are not quite enough for him.

"No," you say out loud, firmly casting that contemptuous thought out of your mind.

You will not go in for self-loathing or self-pity. You are strong and capable and compassionate. Morpheus is still your soulmate. You can fix this. Once he's back, you will talk about this.

The resolution seems to lessen the lingering despair enough that you unwittingly fall asleep.

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

There's an anticipatory undercurrent to the chatter being passed back and forth across the circular tables spaced evenly across the function room.

You're sat at one such table, the hands folded in your lap occasionally brushing against the heavy dark blue velvet draped over the wood, the feel of the material's sumptuous pile triggering pleasant goosebumps.

Ice laden water jugs and bowls of savoury snacks occupy the middle of the table, and each seat is designated by a placeholder. Your name is displayed in a bold font across the folded piece of stiff card in front of you and the names of all your colleagues have been typed out on matching markers.

The lighting could be described as ambient, moody even - a strange choice for such a celebratory event. The strongest source of light is directed towards a projection screen, where the order of events are being presented.

You thumb the lock screen button on the right hand side of your phone to check the time. 20:28. The scheduled break is due to end soon. You take a sip of water from the tumbler stamped with your lipstick and wait.

The microphone on the podium clicks and crackles as it is brought back to life and all heads turn in unison towards the man standing there. A spotlight provided by the professional lighting rig suspended above is ignited, the light from it so bright that it obscures every feature on his face.

His tone is light as he reels off a few formalities, making a joke about the speed of which some individuals had headed to the bar come the start of the interval, eliciting a sequence of throaty laughs from the crowd. He then jumps back into the award giving.

"This person, I know for a fact has really been putting in the effort with developing the traits required to truly embody this accolade and everything it stands for. Taking gullible to the next level, allowing themself to be debased and shutting down all logical reasoning. A veritable inspiration of inconsequentiality; therefore, it comes as no surprise that the award for most worthless human goes to -"

He pauses for effect, and the entire room watches on with baited breath.

Condensation beads slip down the outside of the jug closest to you, mirroring a perspiration bead that has begun to slide from your nape. You look away from the stage, feeling an impending sense of doom slink into your stomach with the nausea that suddenly washes over you. Your intuition is well-founded.

The microphone wheezes as the man inhales the breath needed to deliver the announcement.

He says your name.

The applause that follows is rapturous; a chorus of hollers and whistles punctuating the clapping. It's like you're at a rock concert.

None of it aligns with the damning description of the award name. Under no circumstance do you want to go and accept it; doing so would show that you agree with the committee.

You sneak a glance over your shoulder, wincing at the harsh fluorescents spilling in from the foyer through the set of double doors - that is where you quietly need to get to.

You're pushing your chair back slowly and carefully, about to attempt this surreptitious exit when a spotlight hits you. The hand going for your bag freezes mid-reach.

It's as if a tractor beam has been activated. You cannot stop yourself from standing, cannot stop yourself from walking on the scuffed wooden floor, made that way from years of dancing.

The journey to the stage on your shaky legs is long, given your distance from it, intensified even further by the stares of your peers. You go up the steps at the side of the stage, jelly legs adding risk with the slight elevation. You grip the handrail in a white-knuckled fist.

The award waits on the podium: an oversized key on a black plinth, the golden colour of the metal glints temptingly. With your gaze turned downwards, the man shakes your hand with the pressure of a constrictor, praising you with words that you can't hear above the continued applause.

You force your mouth into a smile and ready yourself to take the award, telling yourself that being gracious is the best approach you can take.

Unfortunately, in your moment of acceptance, someone decides to take advantage.

There's a blow to the back of your knee caps.

You cry out from shock and pain; the sound doesn't last long for as soon as your knees make impact with the boards, a gag is forced into your mouth.

The situation and the gag make it hard to breathe in any way other than frantically, pulse just as agitated in your tight-feeling chest.

The crowd's clapping doesn't stop even as intricate restraints are added at your wrists, even as burning tears and sticky snot stream down your face.

The agony intensifies when you are hauled up by your hair and then herded by several pairs of hands towards the wings of the stage. Your eyes fall on the opaque box that stands just out of view of the crowd.

Its purpose is clear. It is to be your cage.

You're now screaming despite the gag, thrashing as you're dragged towards your doom. Not even allowing yourself to be a dead weight can save you; the cloying fingers are too numerous, too zealous.

The door to the cage opens and the presence of the oppressive void within ekes out towards you like a disturbing fog. Whatever is in there, you can sense it will smother you. Obliterate you slowly. And the people in this room seem to believe you are worthy of such a fate.

The hands anchored on your body begin their last pushes. You whip your head around, making a last attempt to search for an escape when you see a figure out the corner of your eye.

There's no questioning who it is; the person who has been on the periphery of so many dreams these past weeks, you would know him anywhere.

You see a glimpse of movement. Perhaps the raising of a hand. A ripple of power courses through the scene - you feel it vibrate in your chest. Everything freezes, and in that sudden silence you hear Morpheus' solemn and decisive words:

"This dream is over."

You startle, a shriek echoing about the sunless space as you are ripped from the dream. The sheets have you wrapped up like a python; you try with desperation to get free, half-convinced that those relentless hands are still trying to ferry you into that cage.

Floundering, you work and work against the fabric, crying out again when your progress is minimal.

"Soulmate."

Morpheus' deep voice sounds, speaking your name next in such an intimate and gentle way that you instantly halt in your struggle.

He is beside you.

All the attributes of concern are in his facial expression and body language, eyes glistening with an emotion you can't quite place.

"It is over now," he confirms, dissolving the sheet into nothing.

He comes closer, stroking your face with one hand, the other atop your chest with the palm centred on your soul. It's a welcome feeling, his attentions and being free from the tangle of sheets, but you are too far gone for it to stop the fear that the nightmare has set in motion.

"When you said that it was not my place to accompany you, is it because you think I'm less than you?" You ask in a cracking, pitiful voice.

Morpheus stills for a heartbeat, before bending his head to look you straight in the eyes. "No," he breathes. "My soulmate, I could never think that."

He kisses you softly.

It's not what you expected but nevertheless your hands cling to him on instinct, kissing him back and then he's suddenly straddling you. Covering your body with his own to give you a feeling of safety and it's exactly what you require.

You're on the verge of tears from it all, touching the back of his neck, gripping his shoulders to keep him close.

"Morpheus," you call.

"I am here. I am not going anywhere."

He kisses you deeper this time as if to corroborate his statement. It incrementally lessens your doubts and anxieties but there's a call for communication too.

"We need to talk about what happened," you say with quiet assertion.

For a moment, you wonder if he has even heard you for he claims your mouth again.

"I do not wish to talk," he eventually replies, immediately diving back in for yet another kiss. "I wish to take away your anguish."

"But -"

He hushes you, a soothing shut down that would be infuriating if not for the lingering unease of the nightmare clogging your emotions. "Let us forget what was said. Let us instead indulge in the pleasure of each other's bodies."

You blink, slowly processing his explicit inference, taken aback by the very obvious physical reactions they inspire. You force yourself to adopt a professional expression as your arousal begins to leak onto your gown.

"I want to talk to you."

He's smiling smugly as he tilts his head to the side. "Your emotions betray you dearest, as does your body. I know exactly what you want and it is not conversation."

Shame rises but is quickly blotted out by Morpheus' next action.

You feel bare skin against yours; he's used his power to disrobe you as well as him. A protest forms - he stifles it with his mouth. Your eyes are wide as you take it, as he shifts his weight ever so slightly to align your hips.

His own eyes stare you down after he pulls back, unblinking like an apex predator who has caught sight of its favourite prey.

Easy prey.

That's what you are.

He arranges you as such too; grasping your legs and moving your knees to your chest to bend you in half. Pinning you underneath him.

Neither of you last long with the tightness of the angle once you allow him to enter you.

To say you are dazed afterwards would be an understatement. The events of the past few hours have been persistently erratic. If Morpheus feels the same then it isn't apparent. The colour of his eyes are as clear and stable as the weather above, hand warming his favoured spot on your chest.

Your own hands wander up and down his body, running smoothly over his enticing skin.

"You have not touched your food," he comments quietly.

One of your palms moves absentmindedly to trail lazily across your abdomen. "If I'm being honest, I've been struggling to eat since I got here. For some reason I have no appetite or thirst."

"That would be a result of the immortality."

Your hands freeze up, brain doing the opposite as it spins out in a hundred directions.

"W-what did you say?" You stammer, praying you have misheard him.

"The immortality," he clarifies. "My power is within you and with it, comes certain endurances."

You sit up and put some space between you both. This was a serious matter. Despite your empty stomach you feel like you are going to vomit.

"How long have you known that?"

"It does not matter."

Red rag to a bull doesn't come close to covering what his dismissive reply makes you feel. The set of your jaw is so tight that a section on the left side begins to feather. You talk through gritted teeth, levelling a furious glare at him - making it transparent that you are not going to tolerate his evasiveness any longer:

"Tell me how long."

He makes the smart decision to pause to select his reply, though you decipher from the suddenly overcast sky that it is not going to be one that you will like.

"Since our souls joined."

Your hand flies to your chest, to your soul as tears start to brew.

"That was days ago!"

Morpheus simply looks at you.

"Did you not think that I had a right to know about something as life changing as that?"

He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can issue a syllable.

"Please can you give me some time alone?"

Morpheus' intense stare - the one that had gone from intimidating to exhilarating - has now become distressing and you need to get out from under it.

To his credit, he does what you asked and the moment the door is closed, the tears you have been holding back start to flow freely. The ceiling sky is so crowded with dark clouds that you are convinced that it's going to do the same as your eyes.

You feel like you've been tricked. You didn't ask for this, nor were you consulted.

The gilding has fully tarnished now, revealing that things were too good to be true. And had been from the very beginning. You had been swept up in the haze of sexual satisfaction, too blinded by the soul bond to see clearly. The nightmare had spelled it out flawlessly: gullible, debased and without logical reasoning.

The previous success in derailing your self-loathing falls short now. You are bolting down the path of internal admonishment.

How could you have been so naïve?

The answer is your hubris. It had felt good to be finally wanted, chosen to be a part of something bigger than yourself by making a difference to the Dreaming. Unless you had misunderstood.

No, the Fates had told you it in no uncertain terms. What they hadn't done however was provide a time frame. You had stupidly assumed it would be effective immediately. Instead you could be looking at decades, centuries even with this newfound information.

Even with the promise of eventual fulfilment, there was little chance that you would last for years in this room with your sanity intact.

You need distraction from the demoralising thought so you bluster through your bathroom routine like a whirlwind, slamming containers down where possible and huffing out exasperated sounds.

While the gown has re-materialised on the hook by the shower, you are dead set against putting it back on. You go to the bedside table and dive into the drawers to find your clothes from the night of the award ceremony, uncovering the cigarettes and lighter you forgot had been hidden there.

You don't even think before lighting one up, hoping that the nicotine will take the edge off your despair. You are quick to finish it and the clarity it brings encourages you to have a second. And then a third.

From the combination of your reclined position on the sheets and the dainty way you hold each cigarette, you can't help but feel like a 1940s starlet. It injects a bit of delirious humour, and also gumption into the mix.

"You are not at fault here," you whisper out loud. "He is the one who has an understanding of how soulmates work. He withheld that. You are allowed to be pissed off with him and you should let him see it."

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

By the time Morpheus returns, you are in full possession of your wits and sit perched at the foot of the bed. You regard each other; he appears a touch drawn out, eyes subdued and a small line marking the space between his eyebrows.

"You have been smoking," he states flatly.

Buoyed by the confidence gifted to you by said activity, you inhale the scent of the lingering bluish fog, flashing a sardonic smile as you audibly breathe out, labouring the point with the pleasurable sigh.

"What else was I supposed to do while I waited for you to come back?" You cross your legs and smooth out a non-existent wrinkle in the bedclothes you meticulously rearranged.

The effects of your sarcasm are immediate; the air is becoming ominously dense, threatening to unleash a storm of epic proportions. Morpheus' fists clench and the pressure is dampened a fraction.

"Give them to me," he asks in a monotone.

"No."

Your connection is so devoid of dissonance at this point. Morpheus is stone carved. The kind of impenetrable that would shred and destroy finger nails; there is no point in trying to claw your way to the being beneath. The apathy sends your anger to new heights, compelling that shamefully vindictive part of you into lashing out. You want to hurt him just as he has hurt you.

"They're the only thing I have left from my real life."

A lethal quality seeps into his reply, "That life ended the moment you stepped out onto that street."

"Well then I should have run from you that night," you provoke further, tone biting as glacial ice on exposed skin.

The same shadows from before are crowding about his person, settling in his eyes - a tell that you have unleashed the nightmare form. You have to actively remind yourself to breathe at an even pace. All things you had queued up to say to him are long gone as you gaze upon his dark majesty.

"Even if you had been able to evade me, hide your physical body, I would have found you the moment you fell asleep."

The tether on his control slips as a single bolt of lightning turns the room to a white-out. The thunder never comes, instead the rumble of his voice.

"Do not think that I had not anticipated a refusal. I was more than prepared to use force to get what I wanted. What I was promised. I will not share you with anyone. You are mine. My soulmate. You -"

He stops unexpectedly and head snapping to look at the door.

You roll your eyes. "Let me guess, something requires your attention."

He takes in a deep breath. "I will return shortly."

You watch sullenly as he leaves you behind yet again, about to resume smoking when you feel an urge to re-examine the door. It is as pointless as before; no handle nor locks. Your fists hit the mahogany once, then twice before your composure fully deteriorates and you begin to hammer on it. Not because you are hoping to snag someone's awareness, for you heard it from Morpheus that no one could find this place. Sadly, you do it because you are losing hope.

Dejection momentarily quelled, you resort to staring at the door with such concentration that you fear it may trigger another headache.

"How the fuck do you work?" You ask it.

If there is no tangible way of holding it then that left the metaphysical as its locking mechanism. Metaphysical power that came from him - that now resided in you.

Maybe you could use it to break out...

You huff out a laugh at your optimism. There is no harm in trying.

Decision made, you make a quick trip to the bathroom to get the ruby ring you put by the sink. There's no chance you're escaping and leaving a beloved family heirloom behind.

You walk confidently to the door and plant yourself a forearm's length from it. The gold of the ring glimmers on your right hand as your press your palm to the glossy wood.

You do not want to be the person you were in the nightmare; forced into a box-encased void and cut off from the universe. You want to learn, to experience, to love. You want to have dreams and you're willing to make them with or without their master.

You are going to get out of here.

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

Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines

"I'm walking down the line that divides me somewhere in my mind. On the borderline of the edge, and where I walk alone."

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You Series Masterlist

26 Worlds, 26 ways of pleasure

All of these stories are not connected so you can jump around as you like. There will only be 26 prompts in this list, one for each letter of the alphabet.

MDNI - 18+! This entire series is explicit!

Each piece will go into deeper warning tags, please be mindful of your consumption!

♡ Yours, Layla

Main Masterlist

⋆ ˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ☽ ◯ ☾ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖ ⋆

A for Aphrodisiac (18+): ~2.2k words

✧ On a quest to save your little brother, you and your fated companion Dream of the Endless, run into a small problem in Aphrodite's Temple.

B for Breeding (18+): ~1.7k words

✧ You, Swan Maiden of the Lake become King Morpheus's favorite concubine, but it's not enough.

C for Cockwarming (18+): ~770 words

✧ You and Dream come to a compromise after you asked for some "space." It never ends well for you, does it?

D for Doggy (18+): ~2.9k words

✧ How does an Endless teach you a lesson? Maybe on your hands and knees.

E for Edging (18+): ~4k words

✧ Hell hath no pettiness like a woman ignored.

F for Face Sitting (18+): ~1.4k words

✧ You've waited for 106 years for an apology. So an apology you shall receive.

G for Grinding (18+): ~700 words

✧ Your famous last words: "until my thighs fall off"

H for Heat (18+): ~1.5k words

✧ Dream comes back victorious, helm in hand, after his duel with Lucifer but he comes back to you amidst a horrible heat.

I for Incubus (18+): ~2.9k words

✧ You suppose the deal technically went correctly, but when the incubus said he required your life force, you thought he meant... well your life.

J for Joyride (18+): ~1.6k words

✧ You meet an absolute dream boat after coming out of the theaters with your friends. He promises you the ride of your life.

K for Kleptomaniac (18+): ~1.5k words

✧ You, Lucienne, and Johanna Constantine have decided to go on a girl's trip. Therefore, Morpheus was not invited and in his desperate yearning to have you by his side again, he steals something of yours.

L for Lactation (18+): ~1.7k words

✧ Pregnant with his child and in pain, Morpheus helps release some stress.

M for Muzzle (18+)

N for Neighbor (18+)

O for Offerings (18+)

...

...

...

More to be added soon ❀❀❀

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin-r]

Morpheus is intrigued

TW: He watches her w/o her con

Morpheus was intrigued. Honestly everything you did was intriguing to end but this topped the cake. He had come up from the dreaming to see how you were.

It was a simple check up.

That's why he came when the sun was still out. He knocked on your door but heard no response. He materialised inside but couldn't find you anywhere.

He reached your bedroom. He heard your soft sighs first and assumed you were trying to sleep but failing, there was an absence where your form in the dreaming would reside.

Slowly opened the door, and was greeted to the sight of you. On your back. Legs Spread out with a hand on your breasts and the other fiddling down on your between you legs.

He closed the door and sat in the one of the chairs in your room. Which gave him a good view of you. No matter how hard you tried tho you couldn't come.

He knew of how humans touched themselves for pleasure. He'd even seen some have certain dreams about it but he never thought you would be one he'd come across.

Interesting

[fanfictionloversss]

🔥⛈️💕

There shall be night - Part.8 Morpheus x priestess! reader

[Part.7]

Nearly a month has passed since the gruelling summoning she had performed. Now that the Dream Lord was back in his realm, (Y/N) had noticed that her health had improved way more quickly than before. Her white patch of hair, on the other hand, didn’t disappear. She had shrugged it off, used by now to its presence. 

Holding a bag of groceries in one hand while she was making her way home after a day of lecturing at the university, her mind wandered to the Dream Lord. Their reunion after more than a century apart had been sweet, and not like she would have imagined. She would have never thought that he would show such gentleness and caring toward her - and it was so easy to give up to him with equal affection. 

Being the last priestess had definitely changed things for her, she recalled herself. While she had hoped and craved for this intimacy with Morpheus centuries after centuries, she wouldn’t have dared to act in such close proximity to him. The night where they found comfort in each other’s arms in 1788 had only been the beginning of her restraints’ wavering. She allowed herself to feel love toward the King of Dreams and Nightmares and didn’t let old protocol push her away from the much-needed affection he would give her. 

(Y/N) had decided that she had suffered enough. And she certainly hadn’t protested about the change of pace in Morpheus’ way of showing his affection to her.  

Arriving at her house, she dropped her bag of groceries on a counter, checked her mail and watered some plants all over her small home. A simple life, like she longed for for a long time. 

Looking through a window, she noticed that the sun would set soon. Grabbing her keys she decided to make a quick trip to her small temple to prepare the place for the night. It was an old habit of hers, although not spending each night at the temple, she always made sure the place was ready to welcome any lost soul that should seek help. Just before sundown was her favourite time to tidy up the place. 

Crossing the field sprinkled with wildflowers that stood between her house and the temple, she felt him before she saw him. A heavy yet comfortable presence took form as the pale man in dark clothes stood just at the entrance of the temple. 

“Hello (Y/N)” he greeted softly. 

“Hello Morpheus” she greeted back, smiling. The tiniest of smiles stretched his lips at the realisation that she dropped the “Lord”. “I’m surprised you haven’t entered the temple to wait”

“I didn’t want to enter without your permission,” he confessed. 

Such consideration touched her. “It is your place as much as it is mine, King of Dreams” she assured with a gentle smile. “Shall we?”

He nodded and entered behind her inside the building. The room was bathed in a soft golden light, filtered by the high windows. The filtering of the tainted parts of glass reflected dots of colours over the floors and walls, giving an almost ethereal essence to the place. Almost as if the priestess had decided to recreate a part of the Dreaming within her temple. As she stepped into the light to gather a fallen candle, Morpheus’ breath hitched. 

Here she was, bathed in light, softly tinted with the most beautiful colours he had ever pictured. The way the golden rays of the sun reflected on her hair, the way her eyes twinkled in strong, undying hope. His heart almost combusted at the ethereal vision in front of him. 

A true goddess. 

Her strolling to the aisle of the temple, stepping out of the light, broke him out of his fascinated stare. Oblivious to the Endless’ previous passionate gaze, (Y/N) opened a cabinet she intended to re-organise. She knew why the Dream Lord had shown up at her door. The priestess hadn’t forgotten his last words to her after the summoning. They had indeed a lot to talk about. But she had to keep herself busy or else the awkward silence would deprive her of all sorts of courage for this forthcoming discussion. 

Behind her, Morpheus frowned slightly at a shelf of neatly-organised small bottles, labelled with different names. Looking closely from behind her shoulder, he couldn’t help himself but ask: 

“What are those?”

She brushed away a bit of dust that had been laying over the shelf. 

“Sand from all over the Waking world. It can sound a bit childish but…I like to gather some at every place I visit. It helps me to reach out to the dreamers of those places, even when I’m far away”

Morpheus briefly recalled her mentioning normal sand during the ceremony. It was probably what she had been referring to. Deep into his heart, her dedication to the dreamers touched him. 

The slamming of the cabinet’s doors surprised him a little. The priestess had closed them a little bit harder than intended. That was when he noticed her hands were slightly shaking. She must have been as nervous for this discussion as him - although he didn’t quite show it. 

“So”, she began after clearing her throat “I recall you wanted to…talk with me, right?”

She leaned on a pillar, half stepping into the light of the centre of the room. One would have judged her posture as casual, but she knew she needed the pillar to steady herself for whatever they were going to talk about. 

The Lord of Dreams nodded slowly. 

“I wished to apologise” 

His very first sentence surprised her and she started to open her mouth to reply but he stopped her with a gesture of his hand.

“Please, allow me to finish” resonated his deep voice in the small space between the two of them. Morpheus had gotten closer to her so they were less than a few feets apart. Like he was making sure this conversation would be between the two of them, with no room for anything else. 

She nodded slowly, not entirely sure of what to expect. The dream king took a deep breath and then looked up to lock his eyes with hers. The sight of his silver and blue orbs always made her breath hitch every time. 

“I’ve had a long time to think during my imprisonment” he started as she winced at the mention of the last word. “I’ve come to…realise some things”

Sensing some hesitation coming from him, (Y/N) nudged him gently “What things?” she asked in a soft voice. 

“Things about loneliness and…hope” he said, not looking away from her. “I’ve come to realise that hope was the thing that maintained people alive through their hardships. That permitted them to carry on. I’ve been so blinded by my own pride that I refused to admit that I too needed hope before.”

He stepped closer, not breaking his gaze from her for a second. 

“In this glass cage, I’ve thought about the things that could carry me through this horrendous trial. And when the slightest glimpse of hope had bloomed in my heart…you were right in the middle of it” he ended in a whisper, afraid to break the delicate tension that had built up between the two of them. 

(Y/N)’s breath hitched once more, eyelids already heavy with emotions since the beginning of their whole exchange. She may have not been an empath like him, but she felt all of his guilt, regrets and fondness pouring upon her. His eyes, his scent, his dark frame and sharp features, everything about him called upon her. But his open-hearted confession was the most magnetic thing about him at this very moment. 

“I’ve thought about you. Quite a lot” he admitted while bringing up one of his hands to cup her cheek. “And the realisation that you’ve had always been here for me hit me every time I thought of you to gather some strength in this prison”

Shaky breaths escaped (Y/N)’s lips as the first tears finally started to fall. She didn’t know if it was because of the painful recalling of his imprisonment or at the sweet confession he had also thought about her for all those years. Just as she thought about him. His thumb slowly caressed her cheekbone to gather the salty beads rolling on her soft skin. 

“You were always here. You were always the one to bring me comfort whether it be in joy, in pain, or in solitude. You were always here with me” he continued in the softest tone of his deep baritone voice. “Even at my worst and my lowest”

His other hand slowly made its way to the base of her throat, gently pushing the edge of her shirt away to expose the angry pink line that ran on her throat and collarbone. (Y/N) looked away from his prying eyes, leaning on his other hand as she covered it with her own for support. Morpheus traced gently the outlines of the deep scar with his thumb, making a small whimper escape her mouth. The sound made is heart shattering.  In the depth of the galaxy of his eyes, deep remorse spread like never before. 

“You’re always here…” he breathed softly “Even when my own creations are hurting you, you’re still here”

Hearing the heartbreaking amount of guilt in Morpheus’ voice, (Y/N) squeezed the hand that was holding his on her cheek. Searching for his eyes as a sign of comfort, she saw that his head was hanging low in shame. Cradling his sharp jaw with infinite tenderness, she slowly made him raise up his face so she could see his beautiful eyes again. The pain she saw in them almost snatched a  broken sob from her. 

“It’s not your fault” she whispered softly. “None of that was your fault” 

Should it not be for her eyes full of honesty and love, Morpheus wouldn’t have believed those words. A single tear slipped away from his long eyelashes, rolling on his cheek. He felt so vulnerable yet it felt so right. Here, with (Y/N). 

The hand that had been caressing her cheeks lowered, but did not let go of her own. Turning slightly his head to the one that was cradling his own jaw, Morpheus pressed tender kisses on her palm. 

“Words cannot describe how deeply I am in debt to you” he whispered against her skin “I owe you so much yet I have given you nothing in return”

“That isn’t true” she replied softly. “You gave me so many things I’m thankful for”

“Then why does it feel that your devotion to me has brought you nothing but pain?” he asked, and the broken tone he used made her heart ache. He sounded so tired and angry with himself. 

She brought both of her hands to his, enveloping them in a tight and warm embrace. Yet when she looked up at him, Morpheus definitely saw the unmistakable look of heartbreak in her eyes. 

“Because the only thing I lacked was your love, Morpheus” she whispered faintly, years of longing and pain making tears roam freely on her face. “My only wish was to be loved by you, King of Dreams” 

A choked sob escaped his pale lips. The realisation of it weightened on him like a ton of bricks. Deep down he had always known. But now, hearing it out loud made him feel like a fool. He had been so blind. 

With a surge of boldness, the priestess’ hand reached to his neck and brought him down to kiss him deeply. The way his lips perfectly moulded into hers made her moan. If it had to be their last kiss, she wanted to pour all of the accumulated pain, ache and sadness she had felt over the years. Tears continued to fall from her eyes as his lips were moving against her own. 

I just wanted your love, she thought again and again. 

Morpheus’ hands had found their way on her hips and jaw, holding them tight to pull her flush against him. There was something desperate about the way he was hungrily kissing her soft lips, once the initial surprise had been brushed away. Nibbling on her lower lip, begging for entrance as his grip on her hip turned into deep strokes on the side of her waist. A growl built up in his throat as (Y/N)’s hands angled his face to kiss him deeper, granting him access to her parted lips. Morpheus pressed his priestess against the pillar in the intoxication of her tongue curled around his own in the most delicious way, electing a breathy moan from her. At the same time, the familiar yet long-awaited feeling of his weight on her body treacherously made her escape a sob. 

Slowing down his pace, Morpheus gradually released the tight hold on her waist and in an agonising slow last kiss, freed her lips from his. 

Out of reflex (Y/N) softly tried to capture his lips for one last kiss, the ghost of his touch lingering on her own. But as the dream Lord’s forehead gently laid on hers, she thought it was the end of it. Eyes still closed, she exhaled deeply while the last tears of resignation dried on her cheeks. 

"Please” she whispered against his cheek “Don’t push me away again”. God, she sounded pathetic but she didn’t care anymore. They were both the last remnants of her once life as a devoted woman. If he should have turned away from her again because she confessed her love to him, she wasn’t sure to survive it. 

Warm hands framed her face in the most delicate manner. 

“Oh (Y/N)” said Morpheus in a comforting voice, “Have I been such a foolish man that I’ve made you worry about abandonment?" 

He softly kissed the small crease between her brows, like chasing her torment away. 

"You always had my love, sweet priestess of mine. And I love you still” he said, voice soft like a caress. “I just blame myself thousand times to have put in such misery for so many years because of my own blindness" 

(Y/N) choked on a sob as Morpheus pulled her into a tight hug. The tears that had dried out spluttered once more from her eyes. Tears of joy and relief, this time. She gripped the back of his black coat tightly, not quite believing what she just heard yet. 

Morpheus was in love with her. 

"I am so terribly sorry for not reaching out to you sooner, my love” whispered the King of Dreams, face buried in her hair. “I should have told you of my feelings a long time ago" 

(Y/N) let out a small shaky laugh. How could he have confessed his feelings to her all those years ago, if he only came to their realisation recently? There was nothing to forgive. For now, she just needed to feel him. To finally let all of her love sink deep into her soul, no more putting barriers of protocol and longing between her heart and his. soul, opening her heart to his without any time or protocol barriers. She just needed to not be alone anymore. 

“I know I can’t change things that had happened,” continued Morpheus in his low appeasing rumble, not breaking out of their embrace “but if you let me, I can try to fix it by standing at your side and earning every bit of your affection, if I can be worthy of it" 

She slowly slid her hand from his back to his face, cradling his face lovingly. Even now, through the tears in her eyes, the face of the man she had served and loved for centuries was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. 

“You are worthy of it” she smiled brightly “I love you, Morpheus”. 

And just like that, the centuries of longing and excruciating aching disappeared in the dust of relief. (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from smiling and crying at the same time, while the contagious bubbling even made a soft smile appear on the Dream Lord’s soft lips while he gently nudged his nose with her. 

Feeling the happiness and love emanating from his beloved priestess, Morpheus’ heart still ached at the thought he had deprived the both of them of it for so long. Just because he had been a prideful, stubborn being. He swore to himself that he would never let (Y/N) down in a similar way from now on. Not ever. 

Gently taking her chin between his fingers, Morpheus raised her face to his and kissed her deeply. The haze of lust of their previous kiss had left the place to an unsuspected softness and slow gestures. Hands carefully holding the other, as they were afraid to break under their touches. The way their tongues swiftly danced around each other made (Y/N)’s mind foggy, entrapped into their passionate kissing. Her own body seemed to take over the rational part of herself as she arched against the tall frame of Morpheus, a low moan dying in her throat under his kisses. 

Slightly pulling back from her now swollen lips, Dream looked at her with equal hazed eyes. Stars seemed to burn brightly in his pupils like they had been taken from the night sky itself. Losing herself in her contemplation for a second, (Y/N) pressed a delicate kiss on the inside of his wrist while his hand was still tangled in her hair. 

“Love me, Morpheus” she demanded in a whisper. 

He was happy to oblige. 

Cradling her in his arms, his mouth found her lips once more. A new intensity led their pace, bruising and burning them to their cores. (Y/N)’s soft whimpers turned into moans as Morpheus’ tongue skimmed over her throat before he started to suck her delicate skin under her chin. His tongue travelled down the column of her throat, gently sucking here and there eliciting more breathy sounds from the priestess. Meanwhile, the Dream Lord’s hands didn’t stay useless, they crawled under her shirt, kneading the soft flesh of her hips while bringing her closer to his. 

As she felt hotter and hotter, (Y/N) got rid of her shirt in a fluid movement, under Morpheus’ equally loving and hungry gaze. Slightly tugging on his hands, she guided him to the centre of the room, stepping both of them into the light and slowly guiding him onto the cushioned floor. As soon as he dropped to his knees in a similar position as hers, she feverishly latched her mouth on him, making him groan in pleasure. She sucked gently on his lower lips, savouring every single nuance of the way he tasted. The lust that had brought them together for the first time this evening was coming back at her like a raging fire, and she had the firm intention of letting it consume her. 

The warm hands of Morpheus fiddled on her back with her bra claps as she tugged on his long black coat, pulling it off his shoulders. She wanted the damn thing off and be able to see him, touch him. Her bra came off first, unceremoniously tossed somewhere in the temple. Suddenly feeling a bit shy, she pressed her naked chest against his still-clothed one, fingers tangled in the hair at the end of his neck. The low chuckle that resonated behind his ribcage sent a thrill of desire to her heart. 

“Lay back for me, my love” he rumbled softly. “Let me admire you”

She gave the faintest nod of her head before slowly getting off Morpheus, never breaking eye contact as she sat on her heels and gradually laid on her back, the fabric of the various pillows caressing her skin. She looked so fucking perfect in Morpheus’ eyes it took every ounce of self-control he had to not dive down and ravish her on the spot. No, not this time. Today, he was making love to her. 

Hovering over her for a second, his lips found their way to the angry and rash pink line of her scar, licking and peppering it with kisses. A low moan escaped (Y/N)’s lips as the soft feeling lit up her skin with desire. There was something so erotic in the way he let his tongue draw patterns on her damaged skin before leaving open-mouthed kisses on its borders. The soft scrape of the fabric of his shirt against her hardened nipples frustrated her and she tugged hard on it until another chuckle vibrated on her skin. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” said the Dream Lord in an amused tone she didn’t know from him. 

“Off with the shirt”, she articulated between ragged breaths “I need to see more of you” 

He wouldn’t complain the slightest and tugged off his shirt, his every movement and twitch of his body followed by her glassy eyes. 

“You’re beautiful” breathed the priestess with a voice full of adoration. 

Ducking his head to hide his smile, he pressed a kiss on her chin, then on her throat and shoulder blades, slowly making his way lower and lower. His breath skimmed over her erect nipples, gently latching one into his greedy mouth and sucking on it. (Y/N) let her head idly fall back on the pillows, a loud moan rising from her throat. The last time they had laid together had been passionate but messy, almost blurry. They didn’t take their time as now, and part of her regretted that her first union with the King of Dreams was soon to be an even blurrier memory in her mind. Morpheus’ mouth soon released her aching nipple and pressed a soft kiss on the other before resuming its descent across the soft skin of her belly. The priestess’ breaths hitched in anticipation, half-lidded eyes tracing every sweet caress of her lover’s lips on her body. As he reached her hips and the base of her pants, Dream looked up at her from under his long lashes. Searching for authorisation to pursue further. 

Unable to pronounce the slightest word, she raised her hips and started to tuck down her clothes, eyes locked with his. He stopped her movement by putting his hands around her own on the hem of her pants; before tugging it down himself slowly, delicately admiring her bare beauty. 

Dream let out a deep groan at the view of her naked form, so soft, warm and ready for him. Her eyes flickered to his, begging him to touch her. He would do more than that. He would worship her like the true goddess she was. Bending down to nuzzle his face between her legs, Morpheus lay a small kiss on her already slick slit, eliciting a soft moan from her. She sighed even more when he pressed more hungry kisses at the soft joint of her tights, delicately nibbling on the skin and peppering it with red marks. Then he dives inward, sharp tongue entering her throbbing entrance. Her head was thrown back, a high-pitched moan resonating within the building’s walls while her hands gripped the pillows beneath her. The hot tongue of Morpheus worked relentlessly around her clit, sucking and licking it like a starving man. He slid one of her legs over his shoulder, allowing him to devour her even deeper. A rush of heat built inside the priestess’ lower stomach as his hungry tongue brushed over her most sensitive bundle. Bucking her hips against his ivory face, one of her hands reflexively grabbed a hold of his hair, tugging sharply at his raven locks. The primal groan that came from his throat vibrated against her burning core and almost made her see stars. 

“Morpheus…!” she moaned loudly between lustful noises, “Don’t stop please!”

He wouldn’t dare even if he wanted to, not after hearing these divine sounds. The King of Dreams and Nightmares wanted to give her more. So he thrust his hot tongue in and out of her, building pressure higher and higher inside of his lover. One of his hands held on her hip tightly, no doubt leaving a bruise, while the other kneaded the soft flesh of the tight draped over his shoulder, thumb caressing her skin in the most exquisite manner.

(Y/N) felt electricity running in her veins, coursing through her body as Morpheus’ tongue wildly lapped her cunt. She couldn’t stop her hips from bucking upward in search of her release, or the wanton noises escaping her lips. She was just so fucking close– 

A sudden warmth flashed through her body and behind her eyelids as she arched her back and breathed out a long and heavy moan. Her whole body shattered in pleasure as Morpheus kept his grip on her hips, slowing down his tongue ministrations to ride her through her orgasm. 

Gently pulling out his face from between her legs, Morpheus slowly kissed his way back on her burning body, giving her all the time she needed to catch her ragged breathing. Bringing her face closer to his breath caught in his throat at the sight below him: bruised lips slightly open that still held undertones of the sinful sounds released only minutes ago, glossy eyes looking at him behind half-lidded lashes, pupils blown by lust, rosy cheeks and strings of hair idly brushed on a sweaty forehead. 

(Y/N) delicately grabbed his chin, coating a string of her own juices on his lower lips before lowering his face to her wanting mouth. Pressing him deeper against her, she moaned into his mouth at the feeling of the hardening swelling against her bare core. Judging by the equally needy groans of Morpheus, he too felt every tingle of their embrace. 

Completely entangled in their intoxicating kiss, Morpheus allowed her to sit up to gently inverse their positions and force him to lay on his back. Seeing her fumble with his pants, he decided to nudge some help, and with a flick of his wrist, the dark fabric was gone in an instant, leaving him bare under his lover. Sitting on his lap, (Y/N) dragged her teeth on the side of his throat, sucking at the nape of his neck and dragging a deep moan from him. She felt him growing harder against her tights as she slowly bit his lower lip. Sliding a hand between them she grabbed his length, eliciting another raw grunt from him, and guided him to her entrance until she felt his swollen head coating her juices. She looked at him deeply in his eyes for a second before diving inward and pressing his lips to hers, and slowly lowered herself on him. 

Their moans lost themselves in each other’s mouths, reaching deep into their cores. The priestess stopped for a second, taking time to adjust to his thickness. Morpheus pressed kisses to her closed eyelids as his hands explored her bare back, gently dragging his fingers all over her smooth skin. Then after a minute, he felt her spreading her legs wider over his tights, taking all of him inside of her hot core, head thrown backwards releasing a silent moan. He couldn’t resist the view of her exposed throat and hungrily sank his lips to a still untouched spot, sucking greedily on it. The first grinding of her hips made him choke against her skin. She rolled her hips tentatively, trying to find her pace in the most tantalizing vision Morpheus had ever witnessed; her back facing the windows, the warm sunbeams of the setting sun surrounding her in a golden halo while her hips were circling him in the most delightful way. 

“I love you” he breathed above but a whisper. 

The soft smile spreading over her lust-painted face finished to make his heart burst, and he grabbed the back of her throat to bring her harshly on him, ravishing her mouth in hungry passion. (Y/N)’s hips found her rhythm, circling his length and clenching her inner walls around him, moving relentlessly as he lay beneath her.  Mouth slightly agape and eyes closed in pleasure, Morpheus was a true sight to behold. Marble skin littered with kisses marks, slender fingers tightly gripping his lover’s hips as she rode him. A moan escaped him when she squeezed harder around him, entangled in her own pleasure. Morpheus sat up and encircled his arms around her to bring her closer. She changed her movements, bouncing on him as her moans turned louder, a lustful symphony in his ears. His hips twitched upward, thrusting into her with a burning passion. She let out a loud gasp and gripped his shoulders for support. Hips rocking against hers while moans and groans filled the room, Morpheus dug his fingers in the soft flesh of her tights, guiding her through pleasure. She let out a whimper as she grinned down harder on him, chasing her release she felt building inside of her by riding him wildly. She felt him getting closer too. Something about him became more erratic, darker in thrusts and in his moans. Her moans were incoherents pleads of his name, chanting like a prayer. She could feel slowly coming apart under her, and the mere thought of it associated with his hard thrusts made her explode in heat, mouth forming a silent “O” as waves of pleasure crashed through her body. 

Feeling his lover falling apart around him, it didn’t take long for Morpheus to follow her into his own orgasm. A sharp snap of his hips made him reach his high, erratic movements guiding him through the new rush of pleasure. 

Nothing but ragged breath resonated inside the temple for a few minutes. Still entangled together, none of the lovers uttered a word, gathering their breath and leaning in their embrace. (Y/N) lay her sweaty forehead on his eyes still closed, taking in his comforting presence in the aftermath glee. Soft hands of Morpheus caressed incoherent patterns on her back, soothing the gradually growing ache in her muscles. Pushing her trembling knees against the floor, (Y/N) slowly got off him, a small whimper leaving her lips when he pulled out of her. She barely registered laying on the cushioned floor in her foggy mind, the next thing she knew one of the blankets of the temple was dropped over the two of them and she was back in the arms of Morpheus once again. 

Cradling her against his chest, the Dream Lord buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent with closed eyes. One of his arms was draped over her, the digits of his fingers gently caressing the forming bruises on her hips, where his hands had gripped earlier. (Y/N) sighed against his neck, where her head layed idly. One of her hands reached to his and slowly intertwined their fingers together as the soft ache between her legs enveloped her into a numb and warm cocoon of contentment. She could almost think she had been trapped in the most sweet, pleasurable place in the Dreaming. But the way her dark-haired lover tilted his face down to press a soft kiss on her forehead blessley reminded her it was very much real. 

"I don’t ever want to let you go” said the soft rumble of Morpheus’ voice against her skin. 

Humming softly she turned her face upwards to press a kiss on his jugular, eliciting a soft groan from him and his lips capturing hers. The priestess sighed into the kiss, her soft curves pressing against his hard and chiselled marble frame. For the first time since a very long time, she felt like she belonged somewhere. Right here, laying on the temple’s floor and tangled in Morpheus’ arms. 

Their kiss turned again into a passionate dance of their tongues and the soft moan stifled from between her lips drew a lazy smirk on the Endless’ face. The feeling of her hands on both of his cheeks made him stop for the briefest moment. Slowly opening his eyes he met her loving gaze. 

“There’s something I need to show you” she whispered softly. 

Morpheus held a confused face that turned into a frown when she gently tucked herself away from under him, getting up on still sensitive legs. Throwing another blanket around her, (Y/N) crossed the room under the Dream Lord’s intrigued gaze. She came back next to him a few moments later, holding a small box in her hands. 

“What is it?” he asked in this deep voice of his. 

“I want to give it to you” she said softly, kneeling in front of him.

His frown increased slightly, a bit confused “I do not hold any material possessions besides my tools” he noted calmly. 

“I know” she replied and the hint of sadness in her voice made his eyes look up from the box to her face with concern. “But I believe this has always been yours. I’m only returning it to you”

She gently laid the box in his hands with her slightly trembling ones. Her sudden melancholic attitude worried Morpheus, who tentatively opened the small box. Laying inside, on a thick layer of cotton wool, was a small white object. For a second, he didn’t understand what it was, then the realisation pulled a choked sob from him. 

It was a bird’s skull. A raven skull. 

“After your return, I’ve learned what you’ve been through” explained the priestess softly, heart squeezing at the sight of tears pricking at the corner of Morpheus’ eyes. “I tried to find you during your imprisonment but the leads always gave nothing. I only found out what happened once you had returned to the Dreaming”

With slightly trembling fingers, Morpheus traced the outlines of the delicate skull’s ridges. Even if he couldn’t tear his gaze away from it, he listened closely to the soothing voice of (Y/N).

“I know what they did,” she muttered in a tight voice. “To you. To Jessamy”

Snapping his head up, Morpheus’ mouth hangs open in a silent pained cry. Images of his beloved raven’s violent demise squeezed his heart painfully as a tear escaped his eyelids. After a second of shock his gaze travelled from (Y/N) comforting face to the box in his hands, feeling heavier than ever. 

“Do you mean it’s…”

He couldn’t bring the words out of himself. The priestess nodded slowly, tears gathering in her own eyes at his broken expression. 

“I reached out to Alex Burgess’ sleep” she explained. “I wanted…needed to know where he had buried her” 

A broken sob escaped Morpheus’ pale lips. He had no idea (Y/N) could do such a thing as entering someone’s dream - or rather, lack of - to obtain information out of them. For a brief moment (Y/N) felt relieved that the Dream Lord ignored how she managed to rip it from the pathetic son of Roderick Burgess. Torture was something she never indulged in, she even despited it. But the surge of hate that crashed into her heart when she read about Jessamy’s horrendous murder had brought the worst of her. So when he begged, crying and hurling in a broken voice for her to stop prodding on his mind, tugging at his deepest core of consciousness so harshly he thought he might die, the priestess hadn’t felt sorry in the slightest. Her search for Morpheus had made her indulge into darker methods, learning from witches and other magic users in order to find answers. Although she didn’t succeed at finding him, those newfound skills had at least increased her capacities to reach out for dreamers - in the most powerful and somehow frightening way, as she recalled the summoning of his ruby’s location. 

“He admitted burying Jessamy in the garden out of guilt” she continued in a hushed tone. “Once I arrived at the domain I tried to dig up her remains” she let out a shaky breath, remembering this painful experience “Some parts were missing, probably snatched away by stray animals. But her skull remained intact” 

She paused for a moment, letting the information sink in Morpheus’ mind. He wasn’t trembling anymore but the heavy grief didn’t disappear from his starry eyes. 

“I couldn’t let her there,” she whispered. “She deserves to rest in the Dreaming” 

A beat passed. (Y/N) worriedly thought that she had crossed a line and leaned over him but he moved faster, dropping the box next to him and snatching her in a tight hug. His face buried in her neck and his hands gripped her tightly, to feel her close. When (Y/N) wrapped her own arms around his shoulders, she felt tears running down her neck. She never felt the Dream Lord so helpless, yet all she could do was to hold him tightly, soothing him with her warmth and embrace. Running her hand through his hair in a comforting gesture, she heard him sob and before she could stop him he crumbled down, almost laying down before her, his head now buried against her stomach. She let out a small surprised gasp, overwhelmed by the intensity of his desperate grip on her skin. 

“I do not deserve you” he whimpered, face pressed against her belly. “You’re too good for anyone who has ever crossed your path” 

The soothing sensation of her hand stroking his dark locks grounded him to reality. She was doing it in such a calming and reassuring manner he never wanted to feel anything else again. Leaning into her touch, he nuzzled his face into her soft skin. He only realised how touch-starved he was. How he longed for her touch. 

“You deserve every part of me, Morpheus” she soothed softly. 

They stayed in this position for a long time. The priestess kneeling, cradling the Endless’ resting head on her lap while he laid there on the ground, sprawled on the ground and gripping on her for his dear life like a sinner looking for forgiveness. There in the temple slowly bathed with the rising moon’s silver hues, they were finally home. 

They were not alone anymore.

[Part.9] 

A/N: dear lord, what have I done. Not so much action in this chapter but dang the fEELS? Ngl Morpheus calling his lover “my love” is the sweetest thing to me blblblbl This isn’t the last chapter, there’s still things that the priestess and Morpheus need to do, so stay tuned for the next part!

Me writing part 5: oh no, I can’t write smut anymore this is embarrassing, I’ll only rely on angst from now on.

Me writing part 8: do it for the simp.

Each liking, comments and rebloging are making my day, I love y’all so much blblbllblb

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

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[morpheusbaby3]

Morpheus telling Lucienne about the problems he has been through:

[hauntedwitch04]

Wrong time, right person

Azriel x reader

Words: about 3.3k words

Warnings: smut, smut, Iforgot to say smut, and Azzy himself ;)

Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 3: Sex pollen

It's an easy mission they said.

Touch and go, they won't even know you passed by they said.

Assholes. Liars. Bastards. Especially liars though.

This is all I can think of as the Shadowsinger and I find ourselves running through the trees being chased by the guards of the lord we had gone to spy on. Someone must have warned of our arrival, because a few minutes after arriving on the spot, we were already surrounded by enemies. We fought to the end, but were forced to retreat into the woods, seeking safety in escaping through that labyrinth of logs, hoping that those stupid enforcers would not be able to follow us.

It seems like hours that we are running when we finally decide to stop, in the vicinity of a cave, so that we can find refuge from the darkness and our pursuers.

"We finally lost those assholes." My companion comments, sitting back against the cave wall, leaning his head against the rock and showing his neck, leaving it exposed to my gaze.

That simple gesture kindles a fire in me that burns brightly, and I feel compelled to look away. I close my head between my legs and feel Azriel's gaze on me as he approaches. I feel him rest a hand on my shoulder, and I can't help but moan at that simple contact. I feel my cheeks get hot, but he doesn't flinch and asks me worriedly, "Hey, are you okay?" I can't bring myself to look at his face so I nod slightly still with my head between my legs and mutter a nonsensical apology. He still tries for a moment to wrest the truth from my lips, but I don't even flinch for a second. Azriel, seeing then that I did not intend to explain anything, stands up.

"I'm going to gather some wood for the fire, or we'll freeze to death tonight." He says, as he approaches the exit of the cave. I glimpse from below my knees the color of the sky, which is now turning blue.

"Okay, I'll stay here." I tell him in a whisper loud enough for him to hear me. I guess he nods, before walking out of our shelter, leaving me to think about why I took that action earlier. Ever since we escaped from the building I feel a strange sensation permeating my body, but I hadn't given it too much thought before since my priority was to run away from the guards, but it's as if after all that effort that feeling has expanded to the nth degree. It almost feels as if my body no longer belongs to me: I feel a wet sensation between my panties, while the fabric of my T-shirt brushing against the skin of my breasts sends shivers down my spine as my nipples harden against my bra. I squeeze my thighs together trying to ease that sensation, but it all proves futile. I feel a wave of embarrassment rise through my body again, thinking that this is all due only to a small gesture from the Shadowsinger.

Eventually I decide to lie down and try to get some sleep hoping that with a good dose of rest the next day I would wake up feeling better than I am now. I lie down with some difficulty on the floor only to fall unconscious in the arms of Morpheus after a few seconds.

But all is in vain, because in the middle of the night I suddenly wake up all sweaty. I sit up while with one hand I hold my chest. I feel the fire from before writhing in my gut, and on instinct my other hand goes to my center automatically, but realizing my gesture I immediately freeze.

Azriel was sitting in front of the fire, and seeing me feeling so sick he immediately approaches me, touching my forehead to feel if I had a fever. Immediately he retracts his hand feeling how hot I am, and makes me lie of me.

"You try to lie to me one more time about feeling good, and I swear I will never make you go on a mission with me again, and I will make sure Rhysand doesn't either." Says Azriel, as he removes part of my suit, to let the cold night wind cool me down a little. I again find myself letting escape a moan of pleasure as I feel that cool night breeze brush against my warm skin. I feel my nipples becoming turgid as I somehow try to get away from the Shadowsinger's constant touch, which is only making the situation I am in worse.

"I would say now is not the time to lecture me Az." I reply as I try to catch my breath. The Illyrian looks conflicted, but finally stands up and looks me straight in the eye.

"I'll try to do something. You stay here, and in case you give a yell, I'll be back here in less than a second." Says Azriel before disappearing into the night.

I stay looking at the place where he disappeared for a few minutes, trying to distract myself from the feeling of pain and the impossibility of having what my body desires, but finally I give in and begin to slowly run the fingers of my right hand over my center. I immediately feel the pain lessen, but like a drug, this never seems to be enough and I need more and more. My other hand wanders down my body until it rests on my breast and I begin to stimulate one of my nipples. My right hand I run it under my pants and for the first time my fingers come in contact with the wet lips of my pussy.

I remain in that limbo situation for what feels like an eternity experiencing enough pleasure to not die of pain and at the same time not enough to be completely well.

After what seems like hours, I hear Azriel's heavy footsteps getting closer. Quickly I try to look presentable, but immediately the lack of that little antidote causes me more pain than I felt before. I feel twinges in my abdomen that make me bend over, but despite this I look up at the man in front of me, and I cannot help but curse Mother for creating such a perfect being: he has not slept in days, he is drenched in sweat and tired, and yet he continues to be the most attractive person I have ever seen.

He stops to catch his breath, and only then do I realize that he no longer has the cape he was wearing before, in fact now his muscular arms are clearly evident, thanks in part to the tank top he was wearing.

"Where did your cloak go?" I ask, trying to distract myself in a very unsatisfactory way.

"I had to give it to Suriel, to get him to help me understand what you have." He says casually as he approaches me. At that gesture I try to pull away, but he doesn't let me, resting his hands on my shoulders. He then places his lips on my forehead to test whether I still have a fever. That gesture again unleashes a fire capable of burning whole woods in my stomach, and I groan, almost in pain, pushing him away from me.

"Did I hurt you?" Azriel asks worriedly, and I wave him off, so as not to worry him, but he doesn't seem convinced.

"What did Suriel tell you?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Well, as we were running away you spilled a jar of powders on yourself as we were going through that sorceress's store, remember?" Azriel says, looking at the ground, as if ashamed. I nod, remembering very well that damned jar, which made me sneeze for several minutes.

"You didn't read the label on that jar, did you?" He continues vaguely, so much so that nervous and without patience, I force him to look at me before answering him.

"Of course I didn't have time to look at it Az, go straight to the point." I say impatiently. His cheeks turn red, and he stammers something under his breath that I can't understand at first, so I ask him to repeat it. He raises his eyes and fixes his in mine, before repeating what he had tried to say before.

"It was sex pollen, the one that spilled on you." He says finally, and I feel the blood freeze in my veins, still in shock from the revelation he threw at me. "And according to Suriel, the only way to keep you from dying right now is to...well you know, go along with what your instincts are asking you to do."

"Thank you for explaining in such a nice way that I have to masturbate Az, really very nice." I say almost angry at him, even though I know I'm not really. I'm partly angry at myself for putting myself in that situation, but I can't do anything about it now, and now I'm also in danger of dying.

"Hey, I'm trying my best." He replies, scratching the back of his neck with his right hand, looking embarrassed.

"I know, I know Az, it's just-" I pause for a moment, trying to find a way to say it. I take a big breath and keep talking. "I've already tried touching myself, alone, down there, but it didn't do much good." I confess in a low voice, hoping he won't hear it, but unfortunately Shadowsinger's hearing is too acute to miss my confession. He freezes for a moment as if he is about to reason out what to do, then speaks again.

"I know." Azriel says in a guilty tone.

"What do you mean you know?" I ask shocked as I look at him, not understanding what he was referring to.

"Well the Suriel may or may not have told me that you would not be healed this way. "He continues as he watches the fire casting beams of light on the walls of the cave we are in. I stop again, and begin to reflect on all that I knew about these powders as I feel the pain getting worse and worse. By now I can feel my panties completely wet, as every single contact with what's around me unleashes a series of shivers that reaches to my core.

"I thought that was enough...well you get it. In all the books dealing with pollen with potential danger they say that's enough, be satisfied." I try to explain, as I draw a groan caused by my shifting which resulted in clenching my thighs together.

"I thought so too, but he said this doesn't count if-" He freezes as if he cannot find the words. I, growing more and more impatient, ask him aloud to continue.

"Az just doesn't seem like the time to be shy." I urge him to speak.

"He said it's not enough when you're in close proximity to your mate." He blurts out, standing up sharply. I squint my eyes not believing what my ears have just heard, but I immediately understand that feeling that has long been building in my heart toward my mate. Well I would say more than friend. I feel something forming in my chest that takes shape through a golden thread extending from my sternum to that of Azriel, who is currently turned his back to me as he looks out of the cave as if in the same there is the answer to this problem. Immediately I feel that silly happiness I felt at having found my mate, and that he was the man I actually loved all my life already disintegrating under the idea that he didn't want all that.

"You don't have to." I whisper, in the grip of ever-worsening cramps, but right now they seem like nothing more than mild pain compared to what my heart was feeling.

"You don't understand, if we don't do this, you will die and I won't let you die." He counters by turning around and dropping to his knees at my height looking me straight in the eye.

"I don't want your pity." I reply harshly as I try to get out of his sight, unable to do much given my condition, because I don't want him to see my suffering and the pain his rejection has triggered in me.

"No, I don't want my mate, the woman I've loved all my life to die and I'm pissed off at Mother because I didn't want it to happen like this between us the first time. I wanted to do everything right, take you to dinner, confess under the stars and then make love to you in my bed between the sheets I had specially chosen your favorite color, not on the floor in a stupid cave after risking our lives! When I knew you were my mate I wanted nothing more than to thank Mother, fate or whoever, but now I hate them because they had to pass the anger they vent on me to you, and I don't want to see you suffer because of me." He blurts out as he begins to walk around the cave again, then finishes his speech by looking at me. A strange light sparkles in his eyes, they look like the eyes of someone who loves to the point of being sick, to the point of suffering, and that love right now is directed at me. I can't believe his words, but that connection makes me feel that everything he just said is the truth, and immediately the happiness I lost a few moments ago returns, along with hope.

"We can still do it." I confess in a whisper and he immediately turns to me, his eyebrows furrowed over his beautiful eyes. "We can do it once we get home. We'll tell Rhys they can go screw him and his missions, and we'll take some time to figure this out and get used to it, and we can do everything you just said, because believe me I want to do all that with you."

"But?" He asks as he approaches.

"But now all I need is you fucking me as hard as you can in this shitty place so that I can stop dying and talk to you without having to moan every time." I say, as I grab his shirt with one hand, since he was now close enough to me, and kiss him with all the passion in my body.

I feel like I can finally breathe again as my lips on his, and I can already feel the pollen fade as the urge to feel Azriel inside me increases without measure.

"As my lady wishes." Whispers the Illiryan on my lips as we pull away from that breathless kiss. I immediately feel his lips graze my neck, to start biting and sucking on it as if his life depended on it. Every single movement of his lips and tongue made me touch the sky with one finger as I moaned his name as if I were a priestess intent on making a prayer and he the deity I believe in.

His lips then move from my neck to my breasts, where he begins to suck on my nipples like a hungry child. I bring my hands into his hair and pull them every time his tongue touches one of my sensitive spots.

"Baby doll, if you pull my hair one more time, I don't think I'll be able to keep myself from fucking you so hard I'll leave your silhouette on the floor of this place." He says pulling away for a moment to kiss my lips again.

My hands move down, and I begin to open his pants, while he begins to open mine.

"All words, I want to see some action." I reply, trying not to give away how much his words had affected me. He smirks, realizing that he actually made a mark with what he said, just brushing against my panties and feeling how wet they are.

"You will regret saying what you just said baby doll." Az replies, as with a quick gesture he enters of me. I didn't even notice that he had moved both my and his panties, but right now I don't care.

Feeling his cock inside me is an otherworldly experience. I can feel the walls of my pussy tighten around his sizable member as he tries to stay as still as possible to get me used to his size.

"Tell me if it hurts, or if you feel like you can't take it anymore, okay?" He asks softly, as he kisses my sweaty forehead. I feel the cramps from the sex pollen return, and I groan before I answer him.

"Az, I can't take it anymore, either you move or I swear I'm going to flip you over and start doing what I need to do on my own." I say, trying to move my hips slightly and create some friction, but he stops me, resting his hips on mine and giving that silly little smile that makes him so sexy.

"Oh, I can't wait to see you ride my cock, but I'd say leave that experience for another time. Tonight is just for you, and for your pleasure." He comments and then begins to move.

Immediately I feel every single part of the universe fall into place as he gradually increases his speed. My body seems to be persecuted everywhere with shivers of pleasure as his lips rest lightly on my breasts again. Between his mouth, his cock, and the sex pollen in my body my orgasm seems to come with a speed I never expected.

"Please Az, don't stop." I say groaning, feeling the pleasure grow more and more every second.

"Oh baby I could never deprive myself of the feeling of my cock against your cervix. You're going to come, aren't you?" She whispers back as I try to nod. "Then we'll come together love."

"Yes, please Az fill me." I continue, and I feel her muscles tense even more under my touch.

"Honey don't challenge me, you know I could fuck you so hard you wouldn't walk tomorrow even if you prayed to Mother." He counters by increasing his speed.

"It would certainly be worth it." I answer as I now feel I am on the edge of oblivion, just one thrust would be enough to sink into pleasure. I hold my breath for a moment as I feel him move for the last time before my body begins to move in convulsions of pleasure, and my vision becomes totally blurred.

I feel him releasing all his semen inside me shortly after coming, and I feel him lying on top of me, relaxing.

We stay like that for a few minutes before he starts laughing. I look at him not understanding why he is laughing until he explains himself.

"God, I guess in the end I will have Rhys to thank for this mission." Whispers Az.

"Actually it wasn't that bad." I comment, laughing in turn.

"Let's say it had its upsides." He replies with a wink. "But don't think it's over here, wait until you get home, and when I'm done with you the only thing you'll remember is my name."

Yes I would say we definitely have Rhys to thank.

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