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writethrough · 2 years ago

Note

feel free to imagine a sexy interpretation. Also, I'm going to add a loss of virginity here just for fun. In this scenario, Dream is finally willing to admit to himself that he loves the reader, but he's still not willing to confess (and he's also still a possessive/obsessive jerk), so instead he chases after the woman's dreams, especially until even your wet dreams. And 2 possible catalysts here, either Dream sees that the reader is dreaming about having sex with someone else and becomes insanely jealous or he sees someone flirting with the reader in the waking world and becomes insanely jealous XD. This is so Dream, like a king, he feels entitled to the reader and his time, and while he's trying to work up the courage to confess, he makes sure the reader can't hook up with anyone else.

I Am Yours, But Are You Mine

(Morpheus x Female Reader)

Warnings: Minor language, suggestive situations, kinda possessive Morpheus

Word Count: 1651

A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you so much for being so patient! Unfortunately, Morpheus has been one of those characters that I haven't been as motivated to write. And I hate forcing myself to write when I'm uninspired. Thankfully, I found sparks of it here and there.

I tried to follow your request as truly as I could (the lost of virginity didn't quite make it), but I ran with your possible catalyst options! I do think I need to work on my jealous/entitled Morpheus, though. I think he could've turned out better.

Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it! And thank you for requesting it!

Images of you and that human haunted him. It was all he could think about as he sat on the staircase to his throne. How that man approached you. How he smiled, and you returned it. How he made you laugh, soft and delicate.

Morpheus’ jaw tightened, and he snapped his book shut.

Was it too late?

Had he lost you before he could have you?

He closed his eyes, trying to fight those thoughts with the ones of you and him.

How, when Morpheus appeared, you greeted him with warmth and tenderness. How you touched his arm in reassurance or when you were startled. You knew he would protect you. It was instinctual how you moved closer and tucked yourself behind him.

He had never felt more vital.

And yet, earlier, you had that same kindness for that man.

How long had you known him? When did you meet him? What was he to you?

You would have told Morpheus about any romantic partners.

His fist clenched as his arm hung off his knee.

To think, mere days ago, he had realized that he loved you. He would have been content to dedicate himself to you silently. An ever-present confidant for his heart’s deepest desire. How quickly things could change.

He had to do something.

—

Morpheus had grown more agitated throughout the day. The more he thought about you and that man, the darker his mind became.

He had finished crafting new nightmares when he sensed you had entered the Dreaming.

He had to go to you. He needed to know what that man wanted from you—and if you wanted anything from him.

You didn’t need anything from that human.

He was quick to find you within your dream.

A replica of your home, which he found strange. Rarely did your dreams play out here. You were usually conscious within the Dreaming. And his heart went out to you, knowing your day must have been stressful.

He peered into your room and nearly unleashed every nightmare in his realm.

You were laid bare with that man hovering over you.

Morpheus’ knuckles whitened. And before he could think better—before he could calm himself. He swiped the dream away and sent you into the Waking World.

—

You woke with a frustrated groan.

Of course. Of course, you had to wake up when things were getting good.

You scrunched your nose when you recalled who had been in your dream.

You sighed. At least your subconscious knew not to dream about Morpheus in his kingdom. You might actually die if that happened.

Though, the replacement for him wasn’t all bad. You had noticed the similarities when you met him right away. Tall, black hair, lithe, but his eyes were brown and not the blue you had come to love. And where Morpheus’ presence held authority and power, the stranger’s had a shyness, a quiet confidence that you may have been attracted to in a different time. However, you only wanted one being.

You stretched before climbing out of bed.

You weren’t sure when you realized you loved Morpheus, but after you internalized it, you promised to never act on it.

There had to be hundreds, if not thousands, of creatures who had fallen for the Dream King. And yet, you had only heard of two that captured his attention. Who were you to think you stood a chance of being his? He was one of the most important beings in existence. You were a measly human—here and gone before he could blink.

You shook your head.

You were grateful for Morpheus’ friendship. He listened and held an interest in you that you couldn’t understand. You would gladly take whatever relationship you could have with him.

You slowly got ready for your day. You had more time with your early waking and decided to do more with your makeup. It had been years since you applied makeup for someone else’s benefit. But you wondered if Morpheus would notice anything different.

Scrunching your nose again, you rid that thought from your mind. Morpheus didn’t care about how you looked. He’d told you appearances meant little to him, that it was dreaming that held someone’s true soul.

You wished you could know his.

—

Morpheus would’ve broken his teeth if he were human—and perhaps his wrist, too, if he squeezed any tighter.

He stood with his hands behind his back, staring out the stained glass windows in his throne room.

He had stopped your dream from continuing, but the reality was different.

His entire arsenal of power was at his disposal. Morpheus could do whatever he wished to that human, but that would only end in you being upset with him—or furious if extreme enough.

No, Morpheus had to prove himself. He had to make you see that he was the only one for you—that only he could provide for and protect you—stand by you in the way you deserved.

And he’d do so tonight.

—

Morpheus appeared in your kitchen doorway, mind racing. Anger and fear and uncertainty beneath a stony exterior.

And then he saw you. As stunning as ever.

And it all vanished.

All except his desire to tell you.

Your kindness and strength had lured him to you the moment you met. He’d come to know how closely you held those you cared about, and somehow, he was one of them.

And the thought of letting you go, of you choosing someone else…he couldn’t fathom that.

You brought him so much peace.

You spun from your refrigerator to your island, produce in hand, and finally saw him.

“Shit, Morpheus!” You held a hand to your heart. “Give me a warning next time.”

His face remained as still as ever, but you swore you saw a passing gleam in his eyes.

“My sincerest apologies,” he said, stepping toward you.

You waved it away, half believing him.

“Want anything to drink?” you asked, chopping the first ingredient.

He scanned the food, but you weren’t entirely sure he was seeing it.

“I must ask something of you,” he said.

“Okay.” You placed the knife down. “What is it?”

“Have you found someone?”

You tilted your head, brow pinched. “Found someone?”

Morpheus never hesitated when speaking—and you weren’t sure that was the word for it now—but something made him consider his next question carefully.

“Are you spoken for?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, slowly connecting the dots.

“Are you asking if I’m dating anyone?” Your heart picked up. He had never asked something so intimate before.

“Yes.”

“No.” You licked your lips. “No. What brought this on?”

The faintest pink graced his cheeks. His eyes shifted to the side, then back.

“...You dreamt of him.” He breathed like something terrible would happen if he spoke louder.

Your heart clenched at his look of betrayal, trying to recall what he meant. Then, your eyes widened. He must have seen what happened at the coffee shop.

“Are you talking about that guy who came up to me?” you asked.

Morpheus shifted his chin downward, the most movement he used for a nod, and didn’t break eye contact.

“Morpheus…I don’t even remember his name,” you said, being as gentle with him as possible.

The space between his brows twitched. “You dreamt of him.”

Your head dropped in embarrassment.

You shrugged. “It’s been a while.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation. Although the guy had been attractive, you weren’t interested in him when he spoke—something unnecessary in dreams. All he had to do was get the job done, but with Morpheus' attitude, you could guess why that dream ended before anything could happen.

“Are you…jealous?” you asked.

“I am a king. I do not experience jealousy.” His head lifted ever so slightly.

“Historically, you do,” you said pointedly, trying to hide your smirk.

He hummed as if annoyed, but you knew better. You had stumped him.

“You are fortunate I hold you dear,” he said. “Not many can speak to me as such.”

You laughed breathily and stepped forward, grateful your answer pacified him.

You regarded him carefully. The smooth plains of his face, the sharp lines of his jaw and nose, his blue eyes. His lips. Your feelings for Morpheus were bubbling to the surface in a way you couldn’t ignore, and to think he possibly returned them? It nearly sent your head spinning.

“You know…I wouldn’t mind if you were a little jealous,” you said.

“And why is that?” He arched a brow, trying to remain composed.

“Because then it would mean you share my feelings,” you whispered. “It would mean I could kiss y—”

Lips were on yours—warm and powerful, a surge of pent-up passion. He’d waited far too long to taste you, to know the curves of your hips and the dip in your spine.

Your body melded into his as if he was the lock and you were the key. You opened him up to things he never thought he’d want to experience again. And you kept his secrets. You protected him. Made him feel safe. He was desperate to do the same for you.

You pulled away, but Morpheus followed, giving you quick kisses until you put a hand on his chest, laughing.

“Just…give me a second.” You inhaled. “One of us needs to breathe.”

The faintest pink graced his cheeks, and you grinned.

“I apologize. It slipped my mind,” Morpheus said.

You shook your head. “Don’t. Never apologize for doing that.”

You pecked his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, and lingered just beyond his lips.

“Guess I have someone else to dream about,” you whispered, each word brushing your lips against his.

He let out a low rumble. “There is no need to dream.”

His hands grasped the back of your neck and pulled you into him. You moaned when his sand whirled around you, knowing exactly where you were headed.

Taglist: @sayumiht, @hatterripper31, @snowsatsu, @1950schick, @navs-bhat, @bookshelf-dust, @sapphireonline

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on.

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 1 year ago

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Promises 2: First Sight

Dark!Morpheus x (female)reader, fantasy/medieval AU, 18+

Master List

Dream of the Endless had been promised a bride.

I was serious about trying to update every other day! They will be short chapters, but whatever. At least for the first few bits. NOT EDITED. PRAY FOR ME, LOL Would you like a bardcore song suggestion to go with each chapter? Let me know in the comments. Enjoy!

First Sight

She walked into a golden scene of candle smoke and gilded lilies with mud on her boots and one stubborn myrtle leaf in her hair.

Hardly fine court attire, but folk she cared for called her in fear, so she rode in haste from the far side of Meiren, and she’d lost any need to impress the court a long time ago. She’d survived the worst they could do before the current king assumed his father’s throne, and it never hurt to remind them all that she was not part of their games or under their thumbs. So she didn’t stop to comb her hair, or dig out the myrtle leaf, or even shuck her stained green traveling cloak.

Hard as she rode, she didn’t arrive before the festivities began, and she spied the king sitting on the high dais beside his honored guest, for whom a second throne had been crafted. Clearly in haste. Probably merely the queen’s old seat altered to be less feminine. It looked cheap and small beneath its occupant.

Dream of the fucking Endless. King of Dreams and Lord of Nightmares.

He sat above the glittering host like the darkness behind the stars. Ethereal, unknowable, frigidly beautiful as only untouchable things could be.

Even seeing him there, in the flesh, she struggled to believe it. She couldn’t believe their fool king would go so far.

The King of Meiren didn’t hide the festivities’ goal in the invitations (threats and demands) he sent to his people. Dream would find a queen among the best and brightest of the kingdom, and the chosen would gratefully accept the honor.

Only ignorant fools courted the attention of the Endless. Her mother had been one such fool, and she only dared befriend the kindest of the seven. Dream of the Endless was far more terrible, and he sought more than a friend in the king of Meiren’s court. Yet mothers shepherded noble children dressed in their finest silks and velvets, the softest, sweetest things welcoming a stranger’s wondering caress. Family heirlooms dripped from ears and gleamed around fine throats, daring the eye to wander lower. Girls smelling of flowers and boys scented with fruit and musk turned the hall into a stinking hell of vanity and hubris.

Then there were her folk – the wiser birds with drab plumage clustering in the dimmest corners, away from the dances and merrymaking. Parents who wanted their children to live. Grandparents who understood some risks simply weren’t worth taking. Young lovers who were bound in heart and mind but not yet by law. The king’s greed would spare none if the Endless chose them. Though she had not received an official invitation, several families who knew her of old called for her help. Officially, she belonged to no fewer than five noble houses’ retinues for the event, but the guards wouldn’t have barred her entry even without their help.

No one turned a bard away from a party.

Though the long trestle tables had been ferried away by an army of servants to make room for dancing, the ghosts of a feast remained. The king planned the celebrations like a royal engagement. Seven wedding feasts. Seven days to inspire a force of nature to grow a heart and stitch it to another. She smelled grease from venison and partridge, the first victims of the king’s folly, and she hoped the only sacrifices. Better a thousand lambs, ducks, and cows than one of the young folk all dressed up for the fire.

She didn’t dither or ask for her charge’s insights before approaching the dais. Truth would always out. The king was not clever, and she trusted her own opinions of an Endless over any courtier’s.

Striding up to the throne, she waited on the verge of the crowd for the chamberlain to announce her. Her name. A few meaningless titles. Finally her occupation. She liked it best when the king was reminded she was a bard. That she carried an ounce of authority in any royal circle.

Neither king really needed any of it, of course. The Endless knew all, and she’d plagued the King of Meiren’s nightmares for decades. But manners were manners, and politics demanded performance.

She sank low, graceful as a willow frond, angling her face so the king would see the barest hint of her smirk. Not entirely mocking. But knowing. Far from a loyal subject’s easy smile or overwrought frown. The smirk made a game of her courtesies, drawing the king low to meet her, even as her knees brushed the floor and he remained in his throne. No threat. No demand. She asked for nothing. She told him what she was, where she stood, and how little power he wielded over her that she did not choose to give.

As a boy he watched his father’s men draw and quarter her. Now he must suffer her freedom in his court.

“Majesties.”

“I hope you do not bring trouble to my court.” The King of Meiren glowered down, playing the dread king. He wasn’t even a dying candle compared to the sun-bright force at his side. Not that he’d ever been a great power even before he dared weave himself into the story of an Endless.

She sprang up as lithely as she bowed. “Your majesty must think very highly of me indeed to think I could bring anything grander or more concerning than an Endless to your throne room.”

The human ruler tensed, but the eldritch ruler at his side…shifted. She’d sparked his momentary attention, and unlike the first king’s attempt to intimidate her, Dream’s look chilled her until it burned. His gaze, however, did not focus on her like a mortal’s would. His starry eyes saw too much for that. They swallowed her, washing her in the loneliness of the night sky.

Unfathomable. Incredible. Cold as stone and livelier than a sea breeze. Entirely inhuman and everything that led a soul to dream. That gaze made her ache for a shield to lift against him.

So. She offered the smallest, polite smile in recognition and returned to the mere human on the throne.

“A shame the years haven’t blunted your tongue,” the King of Meiren said, struggling to reclaim the authority she’d so neatly plucked from the conversation.

“I prefer to think of them as a whetstone, majesty.”

“I do not recall issuing an invitation in your name.”

“And yet I found my place through the names of others. Several houses requested my attendance in their support.”

Gods, he looked so petulant. But she’d laugh later. He wasn’t above sending a guard to run her through in the hall, and while she didn’t fear death, she didn’t enjoy pain. Or ruining good clothes. No need for more drama in this fraught production, anyway.

The best he could do was insult her clothes, eying the mud and bracken. “Clearly you came in haste.”

“But of course, your majesty.” Wide eyes and an innocent expression couldn’t bury the implicit insult entirely – she had not come for him, her very presence was a kind of defiance, and she would never ride so hard or long without care for her appearance to preserve him or his honor – but they did well enough. A little simpering would stay the blade, and any words said sweetly must be born, even if they soured the king’s stomach.

After all, she would outlive him and his kingdom both. She’d carry what stories she chose to the generations that came after, and no threat or sentence in his power to levy against her would give him back control of his legacy. At least he was smart enough to understand that much.

“Perhaps you should retire for the evening, then.” The king looked pointedly at her boots, reminding her they did not belong on his polished floors. She, in her rough clothes and wild hair did not belong. But she’d worked hard to ensure she never entirely belonged in places like these, always a step out of line, a loose thread that escaped the warp and weft of society’s patterns.

Othered and free for it.

“A most gracious suggestion.” Another, shallower, curtsy. Her eyes dipped to the floor but didn’t linger with any kind of reverence. “I take my leave.”

She moved back through the crowd, unable to disappear between the fine people in their fine clothes. A dark look touched her, stayed under her skin as she passed through the doors and turned down the hall, and she refused to name its owner. There was no time to fear him. Or – if she was very careful – reason to. She had plans to make and riddles to solve, and what was she to an Endless?

Her patrons would request her advice in the morning. She did, actually, need to wash the road off her gear. And her lute was in need of tuning. She retired to her work.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x female reader #sandman x reader #dream of the endless x female reader #x reader #oc #fic: promises

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kpopgirlbtssvt · 9 months ago

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This is so good!!!!

Pacify Him

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x reader

Fandom: The Sandman

Word Count: 2,816

Warning(s): Dark Morpheus, minor violence, stalking, obsessive behaviour, pretty dark (I hope)

A/N: As requested! I hope this was up to your expectations! The longest piece I’ve written for Morpheus too! Enjoy reading! Comments and reblogging are welcomed! (THIS IS A ONE SHOT ONLY)

Taglist: @bhflowers324

——————————————–

The dark skies clouding his realm, adding to the grim expression Morpheus wore. There he sat on his throne, majestic but with a deep frown and eyes dark as he stared at his forearm. Amidst the pale skin was black ink. It had two black oval eyes and a bony trunk, eerily looking similar to his helm. The longer Morpheus stared at his mark, it made him realise how much emotions he felt just with one simple look. Aeons he has walked among the living and yet none of them was his significant half. His eyes darken further, flashes of past memories involving his journey in finding his soulmate.

Many forget he is the King of Nightmares too.

Oh, the things he did, scouring the Waking world in search of his soulmate.

Keep reading

#the sandman #netflix the sandman #the sandman x reader #the sandman x you #the sandman x y/n #morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x female reader

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hunny-beann · 1 year ago

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I am literally having the worst day ever, do you think you could write some insanely fluffy Dream for me? I'm talking tooth rotting levels of fluff here.

Rest Now, Wife, Mine

Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

Note: Hi anon! Thanks a ton for the adorable request, I had a lot of fun with it and really hope it helps make your day feel a bit better <3

Synopsis: Morpheus' wife finds their bed far too lonely without him in it, and seeks out his presence to remedy this so she may finally succumb to slumber for the evening.

Thankfully, he is all too happy to oblige.

Warnings: None! Just pure and unbridled fluff :)

Word Count: 1,298

Her steps are silent and her pace slow as she approaches the familiar throne room, sensing even from outside of its walls that it is as close to empty as it is going to get for the evening.

That said, as close to empty as possible for the throne room of an Endless such as Dream was not nearly as empty as one might think, with it being a rarity that he not be found there.

She fights back a shiver as she steps across the threshold, her bare feet suddenly far colder than before, and her majority uncovered shoulders beginning to undergo horripilation at the seemingly inexplicable shift in temperature.

That said, being easy to explain was not a rule that the Dreaming followed, so this was nothing new, and certainly nothing unexpected.

Though, the sudden voice that split the once heavy silence in twain on the other hand, was.

"And what could possibly have you awake at such an hour, dear wife?"

The voice asked quietly, laced with both amusement and even a twinge of concern that had the wife in question smiling softly in spite of her best efforts to not appear excited at the mere sound of her love's voice.

Oh, but she had never been that strong, had she?

He had her wrapped around his finger just as he did the entire realm that he ruled, though he notably reserved the one with the ring for her and her alone.

She padded up toward his throne quietly, not willing to answer his question until she was close enough that her voice might not reverberate so loudly off of the palace walls.

Some words, she had decided long ago, were for her husband and her husband alone.

Upon her eager approach, the Lord of Dreams could not help but raise one of the corners of his mouth at the mere sight of her, holding his hand out at her nearness to guide her to stand before his crossed legs as he reached gently to take her other in his own as well, making a mental note of how chilled her extremities felt due to the cool night air of his throne room.

He watched as she slackened slightly at his familiar touch, her body always so happy to find him near in a way never ceased to have his heart all but melting at her feet.

What a disastrous little thing she was, truly.

He could never love another.

As her form relaxed at the feeling of his hands on hers, so loving in spite of the power that they held, she could not help but yawn softly, eyes growing teary as her ease allowed the weight of the day to truly set in.

Her dearest Dream Lord smirked up at her, his brow raised knowingly and his eyes twinkling as he watched her fight off the eternally tempting wiles of sleep.

What a sweet little thing, so helpless in her battles against her own biology that it was entirely too amusing to ignore, and always far too entertaining to neglect to bear witness to.

"You are tired, my dear."

The Lord of Dreams stated matter of factly, tugging his beloved closer using his soft grip on her hands so he could properly brush some of her hair behind her ear, a gesture which caused her eyelids to flutter closed briefly before they snapped open once more, her fight against herself not yet over in her eyes (though Dream could see clearly in the way that she swayed on her own two feet that there was already an obvious victor).

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head,

"You need to rest, sweet stardust. Let me bring you back to the bedroom."

He spoke gently, rising to guide her back to their soft and familiar bed only to halt when he heard her reply.

"No, I don't want to go back, you're just going to leave once you think I'm tired enough not to follow."

The Dream Lord faltered upon hearing this, raising a questioning brow in response before lowering himself down upon his throne once more, though this time he pulled his wife right along with him, sitting her on his lap in order to get a better look at her exhausted expression.

He frowned.

"Have you been staying awake on purpose, my love? Lying in wait for me as you promised you would not do?"

She shook her head, but he could see the way that the blood rushed into her cheeks as she tried to explain, embarrassed to admit the things that she had to in order to quell his worries of any intentional harm having been done.

"No, of course not, I just..."

The Lord of Dreams hummed and brought one hand to her back, rubbing up and down along her spine and feeling her lean against him unintentionally in response, her bones heavy and all too prepared to sink into whatever comfort they could find.

"You just what, dearest?"

He urged, causing his lover to nod blearily in response, slowly coming back to reality again.

"I just find that sometimes I cannot bear to sleep alone, that the bed feels far too wide and empty without you in it."

Dream fought back a slight smile upon hearing this, feeling more than a little bit proud to know that his wife could rely upon him enough to truly need him so (though he was notably unhappy to hear that this was causing her any amount of unnecessary strife).

"And is tonight one of those nights, beloved?"

He asked, watching as she nodded, her head lolling slightly upon her neck as her overworked muscles struggled to remain in control over her all too tired body and mind.

"Poor thing,"

Dream all but purred in response, adjusting his love upon his lap until she was leaning against him, breaths warm on his neck and body seeming to grow heavier by the second as the feeling of his familiar closeness drove her into a type of ease that was felt only at a lover's closeness.

"That will certainly have to be remedied, won't it?"

He murmured against her ear, feeling her shiver in response, nuzzling closer with a nod as he gathered his coat that had been hanging on the back of the dais behind him with just one hand, draping it over her body and pressing a soft kiss against her head as he felt her begin to drift off into a much needed and far too well deserved slumber.

"Rest now, wife, mine."

He said softly, feeling his dearest love smile gently against his skin at his familiar words and the use of his favorite (and almost sickeningly sweet) nickname for her,

"I will see to it that no one interrupts you as you do."

If she had been more awake, perhaps the woman would have rolled her eyes or even offered a sarcastic retort in response to her husband's dramatics, but instead she simply nudged herself closer, pressing a gentle kiss against the pale flesh of his neck before she drifted off for the very first time that night, feeling truly safe in the arms of her most adoring love.

And when morning arrived, and the throne room became far less uninhabited, the two of them made for quite a sight, indeed.

After all, who would have thought that the Lord of Dreams might choose to sleep simply to live life as his dear wife did, his cheek pressed gently against her head and his arms wrapped around her as slumber found them both, pulling them closer together, ever still, in the very same way that they belonged now, and always would for the remainder of eternity, and perhaps even beyond that.

ao3 link

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swanimagines · 2 months ago

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Hola can i request a Morpheus x f!Reader fic where her son is running over all the palace because he doesn’t want to take a bath?

Sorry English is not my first language

A/N: Ahem ahem, excuse me... this may be the first time in a very long time I'm actually genuinely HAPPY with something I wrote?? If there's a writing deity or a saint, I will pray to them and hope for this kind of skill and motivation and inspiration and whatever hell I need to produce THIS kind of content in the future too, thanks bye!

"Aridus!" your voice echoed through the grand corridors as you chased after your son, who had decided today was not the day for a bath. He turned around slightly, his face scrunched up in anger.

“I don’t want to take a bath!” he declared for the hundredth time, before taking a turn to yet another maze of hallways. You let out a frustrated groan, even though you tried to keep it in.

“I know, sweetie, but after all that playing with Goldie, you’re all muddy, I can’t let you go to bed like that!” You stopped, as you took the turn to where he went. “Aridus, please just—”

“No! I don’t want to sleep either!” His voice echoed through the hallway, it was impossible to know which nook he took as a hiding place. “Daddy never sleeps either!”

It was true, the everlasting bickering with him. Why is daddy able to go around day and night, why can’t he stay up to play all night as well. But the thing was, Aridus was your offspring too, and you were originally from the Waking world — and you needed sleep, so Aridus needed sleep too. Your husband had told you that Aridus may need less sleep than a “regular” human as he grows up, but as a toddler he was just like regular children were. Getting tantrums out of being tired, while the tantrum is about not wanting to go to sleep. “I know sweetie, but he’s–”

“No!” he screamed, and you heard the patter of feet going further again.

You barely heard Morpheus coming to stand beside you, but you felt his presence and turned to look at him. “I can’t catch him. He’s persistent and knows how to tire me out.”

Morpheus's lips had a small hint of a smile. “He is much like you, then.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms. “Me? Are you sure? You’re the one who’s refusing to listen to any other opinions of change when you’ve already decided the ‘best’ way. I think he’s more like you than me.”

Morpheus smiled properly now, inclining his head forward. “True.”

A loud crash interrupted the sound of running, and you heard something rolling through the floor, followed by a soft thud and a whimper from Aridus. You walked forward with Morpheus following close behind, and discovered the source. Aridus had collided with one of the pedestals, which had sent a stack of dream scrolls all over the room. You moved to stand in front of him and brought your hands to your hips, sighing.

Suddenly your son, who had been so angry just a moment earlier, looked more remorseful as ever. “I… I didn’t mean to.”

Before you could answer, you felt Morpheus’s hand on your shoulder. “Allow me, my love.”

Aridus sat there frozen in place, looking at his father kneeling in front of him. Morpheus reached out, carefully tucking a curl of hair behind Aridus’s ear. “Do you know why we need to take baths, Aridus?”

Aridus’s shoulders slumped. “I know, father. Mother doesn’t want my bed to get dirty. But I don’t like to get wet.”

Morpheus shook his head. “It is not only because we get dirty. Every day, all living beings get dream dust on them. If there’s too much of it, it weighs us down. It affects our mood and eventually… it may make us fall asleep and never again wake up. Be stuck in nightmares forever, and not even I would be able to help.”

Aridus stared at his father, his mouth opening slightly before he whispered, “Stuck?”

Morpheus nodded. “Yes. Even the stars must cleanse themselves of the night sometimes.”

For a moment, Aridus stared at the floor, clearly trying to contemplate his options. But eventually, he looked up again and nodded. “Okay.”

You smiled slightly, ushering him towards the bathroom before you looked back at your husband, who was left cleaning the mess up.

—

Later, when you watched your son sleeping in his little bed from the doorway, you felt a slight gust of air as Morpheus appeared to your side again. You smiled at him and whispered, “You’re good at making up stories. I think he’ll be much more willing to take baths in the future.”

He shook his head, his eyes fixed on your son. “I merely spoke the truth.”

You frowned. “Really?”

He turned towards you slightly. “Yes. Well, maybe I dramatised it a little, but much of it was true. Even stars need to be born anew sometimes. They too resist, hang on, but ultimately they yield and give way to new stars. Just like our son did.”

You nodded and let yourself lean against him slightly. "I’ll admit, I was starting to lose hope there for a moment. I didn’t think anything could convince him to take a bath, let alone willingly. He certainly takes after both of us. I thought I'd never tire him out, but you…” you murmured and looked at him. “You have a way with him. Maybe I should let you handle all the tantrums from now on."

Morpheus pushed you away slightly, tracing his fingers against your bare arm. "I would handle them all, if you so wished," he whispered. "But I believe Aridus needs you as much as he needs me. You are his anchor to both worlds. Without you, he might wander too far in the night."

You smiled a little at that. Morpheus certainly knew his way through words, it was in his nature, in how he was created, sure, but you felt like he had learned a thing or two from love since he fell in love with you all those centuries ago.

You sighed, looking at your sleeping son. “He seems to like wandering. He has told me so many times he wants to be just like you, and I don’t know how to tell him that it isn’t possible.”

Morpheus was quiet for a moment, running his hand up and down your arm. “He must learn to walk in both worlds because when the time comes… Waking world may call out to him. In any case, balance is essential. And he must learn to control and thrive, whatever his place will end up being.”

You swallowed, remembering that once your son grows up, he may only be able to visit you at night. You’d watch him grow old year by year, and only get him back once he dies. Which will take centuries, if not even millennials with his Endless blood. And even then, he may choose the Land of the Dead if he has loved ones there. But Morpheus made it sound… like it was natural. Which it of course was, you reminded yourself. “You make it sound so simple. That it will be simple to accept it.”

"Simple, no. But necessary, yes." His hand stilled on your arm. "And you, my love, have always excelled at guiding him in ways I cannot."

You were quiet for a moment again. “I just don’t want him to grow up so fast.”

He was quiet for a moment too, taking in a deep breath. “I wish he did not grow so fast either. But moments like these, they will linger. Forever, if necessary. We need not fear losing him.”

You nodded, finally closing the door and following Morpheus towards the throne room. “I guess I should just remember he’s going to be a half-deity like you. And that hopefully he’s going to make the world a better place.”

Morpheus turned to look at you, taking your hands in his. “He will have both of us with him when he enters the Waking world, and be more than us. He will be a dream, but also a heartbeat. And that, my love, is his gift.”

You swallowed, but then closed your eyes and dropped your face towards the floor. “I know. As long as he has both of us in him, he’ll be alright.”

Morpheus cupped your cheek, tilting your head to look at him again. “He will thrive. He will flourish in ways we cannot yet even imagine.”

You nodded, glancing back towards Aridus’s room and then you turned back to Morpheus. “I love you.”

His smile appeared again, an expression only reserved for you before he kissed your forehead. “And I, you. Always.”

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lis-likes-fics · 7 months ago

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Your Delusion

Pairing: dark!Dream of the Endless x Reader Word Count: 4.8k words Warnings: NSFW, dubcon, somnophilia, fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, forced(?) breeding, swearing... A/N: This was to get me out of Writer's Block. Kind of worked? Dream is a bit (ridiculously) delulu in here. He's doing some mental gymnastics in here, and I applaud him cause same. Anyway, enjoy this strange, strange man.

You look so beautiful like this.

Wrapped in your sheets with your eyes so delicately closed, lips so delicately parted, breaths so delicately passed, you look like a dream. My dream.

And you shall always be mine.

No matter what you may believe.

Your rejection was a white hot burn in my chest, a clawing in my throat. The searing courses through my veins, but I know that I cannot blame you for what you had said. You meant only the best, you meant only not to worry me.

But you shouldn't need to worry. Not about such things.

When I saw you in that field, my field—Fiddler’s Green—I knew then and there that I could await our union no longer. I had to have you, I had to keep you.

You turned when you felt me near, and your eyes filled with confusion for just a moment before the recognition of my presence replaced it. You always knew it was me in the end. No matter how many dreams you dreamt.

“Dream lord,” you greeted me, with a smile so soft and true. Oh, how I love your smile.

I took slow steps across the green grasses beneath me, slowly approaching. “It has been a while since you have come here.”

I usually find you with the brothers of the First Story, or perhaps with Lucienne in the library. Other days, you would wander through other fields or amongst the waters of the Golden Rivers. But not then.

Then, you stood in the flowers of Fiddler’s Green. The very place we first met.

“How are you?” I wondered.

You glanced away. It was a shy little gesture, and a quick one at that. In no time, your eyes were back to me and it meant the world. “Better now,” you mumbled, placing your hand against a tree. “I almost forgot how beautiful this place was.”

Though I would usually acknowledge your words, I cannot help but to stare. “I have missed you.” I cannot always find time to see you with all the work I find myself caught in, but when I do, you never disappoint. It had been a couple of nights since last we saw one another, but it was a couple of nights too long.

“I missed you, too.” You said it as though you truly meant it, and that was all I needed. “How have you been doing?”

“Thinking.” I moved closer. There was still too much distance between us.

You tilted your head gently. “About?”

“Many things,” I shrugged. “But mostly you.”

You seemed almost taken aback by what I said, but you remain as kind as ever. “Me?” you chuckled—a bashful thing, really.

My eyes never left you. You're so beautiful, I mustn't ever look away. Perhaps I may lose you if I do…

“I can't keep you from my mind.” I watched as your smile faltered and your face shifted. “Every moment, I think of you.”

You tried to take a step back, but I grabbed your hands and held them within mine. I let the words spill, and I confessed what I had been holding in all this time. “You come and you go from my realm as you please. You smile and laugh as though any being could resist falling for the very thought of you. I look at you, and I know that what I feel is true.”

You looked away from me, down at our hands joined so firmly in one another. You close your eyes shut, and you squeeze them tight. “Dream, I don't think I understand.”

Then I would help you understand. You needed to know how much I need you, how much I crave you.

“I long for you,” I confessed. “Your beauty, your touch, your heart… And I can't keep from you any longer, my dear.”

I stepped even closer, the distance nearly squashed as I set my forehead against your own. “Dream,” your voice seemed so far away, so uncertain. But you mustn't feel that way.

“Be mine,” the desperation began to become clearer in my voice. “Join me as my wife and queen.” My thumb brushed the finger where your wedding ring would be placed. I would almost feel it now… “I shall protect you with my life and love you with all that I am–”

“No.”

The icy chill of your disagreement, the stern tone of your voice, it created a sour taste on my tongue that I deeply resented.

I did not break away from you, though my grip on your hands may have tightened a bit more than they should have. “What?” My voice is low, upset and full of disbelief. You pulled your hands from mine, and I knew that I had to let you or else I may have hurt you.

“Dream…” you sighed heavily, like it pained you. “I can't.”

My eyes fixed on you, and I thought you could see the sudden darkness in them. Perhaps you did, but it wasn't enough.

“Why not?”

“Look at you.” You gesture toward me, taking another few steps away to establish a distance that left me cold. Your voice was not as steady as I'm sure you hoped it would be, but it was firm nonetheless. “Look at me.”

Your hand slapped back down to your side. It was a defeated movement. Hopelessness filled you in the form of tears, and that's how I knew you cared.

“You are the King of Dreams,” you continued, “one of the Endless, the fucking—ruler of sleep and unconsciousness, who's been alive for eons.”

Your brows knitted together, and your hand reaches across your frame. “I'm some…human you've been talking to for the last year.”

I swallowed thickly, the sourness turning to a bitter agony. “Don't you love me?”

I sound pathetic asking, but I simply could not go another moment without knowing.

“Of course I love you!” you exclaimed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. The leaves in the trees around us shook incessantly, yet there was no wind. Your voice was weaker when you spoke again. “How can I not?”

Hope filled me, if only for a moment. If you loved me so, then why do you choose to deny me your hand?

“But I can't have you,” you explained. “I'm mortal, you're Endless. I will die, and you will go on living for damn near the rest of eternity.”

If time was what concerned you, we could take it away.

“I can get you immortality.” I tried to step closer, but you stepped away.

You shook your head. “It's not mine to take.”

It was times like these where I wish you weren't so good. It was times like these where I wish you were more selfish, more possessive.

“Nonsense,” I disagreed. “If you were mine, the whole of the Dreaming would be yours.” You grunted with such frustration that my own crawled up my neck and into my teeth.

“Morpheus.” I still don't like the way you said it…with such a stern resolve, so bitter and broken. “I can't… I've heard about what happens to those who love the Endless.”

I nearly scoff. “Is that what this is about?” I shake my head.

If danger was what concerned you, I would quash the threats set against my love.

“As I said, I can protect you.”

“I'm not afraid for me,” you urged, “I'm afraid for you.” Oh, my love, you hurt me so. “You've lost so much, I can't hurt you like that.” You took tentative steps away from me, looking down and finding it so difficult to reach my gaze. “It is easier for you to let me go and move on, than to humor this ‘relationship’ and get the both of us hurt in the process.”

You looked up, despite the pain, and you moved forward to take my face in your hands. I must close my eyes to relieve the ache of you so close to me now. Oh, how deeply you cut…

“Forget about me,” you insisted, trying to smile for my sake. I could see how much it hurt you. “I know it's not fair, but it's how it has to be.” When my hands land on your waist, you drop yours from my face.

Reluctantly, you set your hands on my wrists and pulled them slowly away from you. Your voice was soft, wavery. You were trying not to cry. “I am not meant for you.” You take a deep breath in. “And you were never meant for me.”

I didn't know what to say. Though, I suppose it did not matter, for the next moment, you were gone. You left from the Dreaming, and you were lost from my sight.

But that was days ago. You have been avoiding me since.

But I've been there. At every turn, I have been there. And I know you feel me, you know that I am always there—lurking, watching, waiting.

You know it's me when you glance over your shoulder for the shadow in the corner of your eye. You know it's me in the shiver down your spine, the phantom billow of my robes as I ghost past. You know it's me in the faintest sound of breath out of sync with your own.

And I can tell that you know it's me now, in the walls of your bedroom while you lay fast asleep. You look so beautiful, soft and serene. To be in your dreams is one thing, but to watch you lost in your sleep is something else. To know that my realm has so much power, so much influence over something as perfect as you… If only I could watch you sleep forever.

Perhaps I could… but I shall not.

I don't understand how you were so sure of how deeply we did not belong, but I did know that you were wrong. Of course you're wrong.

We are meant to be together. We always were and we always will be. I am not prepared to let you go.

You worry so deeply about us, my well-being and yours if anything were to happen. But as long as there was a gap between us, we could never be together. If our eternal marriage wasn't enough to fill that, then I would just have to find something else.

Something deeper. Something more important than bands on our fingers.

And every kingdom needs its heir.

I shed my robes, the sky hidden beneath them as black as the darkest sapphires. My gentle steps are silent as I approach, the moonlight glinting on your skin now blocked by my frame.

Slowly, I sit on the bed beside you, and I cannot resist the touch of my hand against your cheek. You're so soft and sweet, especially when you lean your face into my hand. I smile, and I know you love me.

I lean down ever so slowly, and my lips press to your forehead. Your head shifts, a little keen against me. Oh, how you beg for my touch, my darling.

And I shall give it.

I remove the covers from your body, revealing you to me. Your shirt rides up your belly, exposing the soft expanse of your skin to me. I place my hand there, and hear you sigh. I slide down, my fingers caressing your skin until my hand dips below your shorts and presses to the cotton of your undergarment.

Your breath hitches when you feel my fingers against your clothed clit, brushing so gently, it's like a phantom touch. Still, you do not wake.

Spreading your legs for me, I cup your perfect little pussy in my palm and sigh. Just as I thought you'd be, warm and wet and waiting for me. I tease, stroking gently with my fingers to bring your arousal further. You squirm against my touch, but still you do not wake. You know I am here, you have no reason to fret.

I knew you loved me.

I lean down and kiss you, though you're so tired you do not kiss back. But that’s alright, you are all I need.

I pull away from you, standing once again and standing at the foot of the bed. I grab at the waistband of your shorts and pull them and your panties down your legs, pausing when you stir too much. When you no longer shift, I pull them off completely.

Oh, you are lovely.

My hands stroke the expanse of your smooth skin, and you sigh at my every touch. Your brows knit together, a far off focus in your dreamland. My fingers tease the seam of your sweet cunt once more, delving between your wetting folds to feel how hot you are around me.

You begin to stir again, but my hand to your stomach eases you. I do not want you to wake yet. Not yet. Soon.

Your walls clench around my finger, and I reward them with another. A tiny whimper slips through your lips. I massage my fingers in and out of you, deep and slow movements that coax more and more wetness from your cunt. My thumb presses to your clit, and your hips roll against me very slightly.

I can no longer control myself. I move onto my knees and hold your legs apart. I just want to taste you. And when my tongue meets the arousal seeping from your lips, a deep moan rumbles within me.

Such sweet honey you make all for me, only for me. I suckle around you, licking and sucking and tasting you with a growing enthusiasm. Your tiny whimpers are becoming moans, broken and needy as you keen into my touch. Your fists clench and unclench, your thighs try to close, your hips roll against my mouth. But I keep you steady, steady and still and open wide for me.

As I suck around your clit, I can feel you clenching around my tongue, which licks in and out of you and laps up your sweetness. You're so close, I can feel it, I can taste it. Your desperation for a release is a potent syrup on my tongue.

Your body shakes and your mewling moans fill the room when you come undone. You gasp, a pitchy, wonderful sound that makes me suck harder around your pulsing clit. You try to break away from me, but I only pull you closer, drunk on your taste and refusing to let up until I have had my fill.

It's a wonderful thing, watching you cum for me so deep in your sleep. I can see flashes of your dreams behind my eyes, skin against skin and warmth and passion and even brief images of me. I feel you tremble beneath me, shuddering and whimpering so sweetly.

I work you through your brief overstimulation, groaning around your pussy as your taste overcomes my senses. The intoxication is a precious salve to my hunger for you, but it does not last long. No, I will never not hunger for you.

And I soon shall never have to find myself starved of you either.

The next time you cum, your back arches off the bed and your mewls mix with your heavy gasp. When I hear the sound of your quickening heart and feel the tug of your slowly building consciousness, I pull apart from you.

Shh. Not yet. Sleep, my love. Soon you shall awake and see me giving you all that you desire.

I place my hand to hold your cheek, and your fluttering eyes steady once more as they seal shut in your returning slumber. And when all is right, I smile. Your slick allows my fingers to glide right through.

Perfect.

I move away, stripping the both of us until we're nothing but skin. The bed dips under my weight, and I pull your thighs over my legs.

Taking my cock in my hand, I hiss lightly. You've truly made a mess of me: hot and hard and leaking. I lean down to you, pressing my lips to the side of your face and dipping down into your neck.

“Don't worry, my love,” I whisper in your ear. “We shall be together.”

I line myself with you, and holding my breath, I thrust inside. Warmth blossoms along my body, and I shudder at the tight heat which welcomes me. “All of us.”

You whine as I push farther inside of you, going deeper and deeper until you've taken me all the way. A thick sigh heaves from my chest at the way you clench, and my hips stutter at the feeling. I pull back and thrust in once more, building a steady rhythm that grows with my passion and desperation for you.

You whimper and moan, squirming beneath me as you stir beneath the slumber I've placed you in. The images in your mind—our bodies, our lips, flashes and breaths—they mix like a cocktail that further my intoxication.

My thrusts are perhaps a bit too rushed for our first time together, but I cannot help it. You are better than I have ever imagined you'd be. I want to savor this, to take my time with you, to cherish each feeling and each taste and each sight…

But we shall have plenty of time for that in the future. Right now, I must ravage your body lying so pliant and willing for me.

I kiss your neck, taking the soft flesh between my teeth and sucking. You taste like flowers and honey, a precious taste I shall never tire of. I rut into you, listening to the sweet sounds of your slick along my cock, listening to your weak moans, your needy whimpers. I'm determined to make you cum with me as I rub your aching little clit with the pad of my thumb.

My need for you trumps everything else. I want nothing more than to bury myself as deeply inside of you as I possibly can and fill you with my love, a love that would take root within you and grow our dearest child. I hook my arms underneath your thighs and put you in the perfect position to receive it, chest to chest as I bury my face in the warm column of your throat.

“Oh, my love.” The words spill out of me as the pleasure grips my throat, and I thrust deeply inside of you. In the same thrust, your back arches off the bed and you actually shake in my arms as you cum around my cock, squeezing me so tight that I have no choice but to cum inside of you.

A rough groan tears through my throat and into your ear. As your tight pussy trembles around you, you gasp as the pleasure rips through you. I feel the harsh tug of sleep being taken from you, and you fully awake with me still buried so perfectly in your cunt.

You choke on my name, and the sound is so sweet that my hips stutter in a half-thrust that pulls a moan out of you. I smile, pulling back without pulling out and looking down at you. You're so beautiful like this, dazed from the pleasure, still coated in sleep with the confusion of it all.

“Dream,” you whisper again, your voice thick with sleep and something else. “Dream, what–?”

You don't have time to speak because I have already begun fucking inside of you again. I'm not quite done yet—I want to make certain that you shall carry my heir in your belly, certain that I shall claim you forever.

And I'm already so addicted to the feeling of your body. To be without it would be a crime.

With the relief of a release, I can focus now as I gaze down at you. My hips thrust in and out—a steady, quick, rough rhythm that has you moaning with loud and helpless sounds that are music to my ears. Your hands reach up, clenching my arms with an uncertain goal.

You struggle to speak, so driven by your lust for me that all you can do is form wordless words as I fuck you. You curse and swear, glassy eyes on me as I hold you close.

Suddenly, I pull out of you, and the most pathetic whine slips from your throat. I flip you onto your belly, spreading your legs and pushing your chest down as I enter you from behind. You welcome me, as I knew you would. My perfect girl.

“Hello, my darling,” I whisper through a groan after a particularly rough thrust. “Did you miss me?”

You mutter something of my name, and I smile.

“I missed you, too,” I say. I press my chest to your back, bringing my hand to wrap around your neck so gently. “But I shall never leave you again. And you shall never leave me.”

You try to say something but it doesn't matter. I pick up my pace, my strength. I hold you tightly and fuck into you with everything that I have. As my fingers circle your abused clit, you moan and gasp for breath as all the pleasure stacks on top of you, one right after the other.

“You're so good for me, my love,” I sigh. “You're always so good for me, as you sleep and as you wake.” Another whimper resounds.

I've longed for this moment for so long. This moment where you would be beneath me, moaning my name and welcoming me into your intimate warmth. Your body moves against me, seeking me out and shuddering under my touch as I give you everything you need. All the slick has built with the addition of my cum dripping out of you, coating me and the sheets below in white. The sounds we make together—the moans, the creaks, the smacks—it's a beautiful cacophony of sweet music. I could stay here forever, locked in this room with you and your body and your love, fucking you with all my passion and making love to you with all my heart.

Your hand reaches out to grab something, settling for the pillow, which you grip so hard, it looks as though you may tear into the fabric. The pictures in your mind have become so much more muddled. Now they're flashes of white, the vague movements of bodies and the vague sounds of groans. It's a mess, a beautiful mess of tangled thoughts and watered down cohesion.

Your moans shudder like cries when I pull another orgasm from your weak little body. As I fuck you through it, the pleasure becomes all the better as you go blinded by it.

“So perfect, my beautiful dear.” I pull out of you, and you sigh as I do, as if you think this is over. I turn you back onto your back.

My knuckles smooth gently down the side of your face as you stare up at me, your eyes glazed over. I kiss you, a deep, bruising kiss filled with all of my lust for you. It takes you a moment, but you kiss back. It's a wonderful feeling.

As our lips are joined, I join our bodies once more. You gasp into my mouth as my cock fills you once more. I trail my kisses along your jaw and back to your neck, painting you in love bites and taking you as mine.

My hips snap into you, my hands hold you tight, my lips lave along your skin. Oh, how I love you so. It shows in the way that I thrust, in the way that I sigh, in the way that I kiss, in the way that I hold you close to me. I can't let go.

A couple of stray tears slip down your cheeks, and I kiss them away. Poor thing, so full of pleasure that you're crying for it.

Without giving you much time to recover, my thumb is at your clit again. I've become utterly intoxicated with the sight of your undoing: the way you tremble and shake, the way you gasp and sigh. I love you.

And for a while, we stay like this, rocking and grinding and moaning into one another. The sight of our faces are drenched in utter bliss, and I bask in the moment. I can feel the beginnings of a second release prickling within me, and my steady thrusts begin to falter.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Your dazed eyes look up at me, your question interrupted by a moan. “Say–ah! Say what?”

“Tell me that you love me. As I love you.” I press my forehead against yours, rutting into you with all my strength as I begin to lose control. “Tell me, my darling. Tell me.”

“I…” You clench your jaw, arching your back as you struggle to speak through your pleasure. “Fuck, Dream.”

Your mouth is agape, and your eyes are closed so sweetly. But I need to hear you say it. I need it. “Say it.” My grip on your hip tightens, my thumb on your clit becomes more ruthless.

Lost in euphoria, you gasp and nearly choke on the words you give to me. “I love you.” You huff out a heavy breath, holding me tighter as your lips search for my skin. Their sloppy contact slides against me, wanting nothing more than to feel my skin against you. “I love you, Dream. Fuck, don’t stop, I love you.”

I sigh at the pleasure it gives me to hear those words on your delicate lips. “Again. Say it again.”

“I love you.” A whimpering sound mixes with a groan. “I love you, Dream.”

My fuse is running out, and with the way you tighten around me, I don’t stand a chance as my rough thrusts bring the both of us even closer to our highs. I can taste it on my tongue. The taste of your honeyed flower skin and your sweet arousal is my own personal wine.

My voice is barely a whisper in my haste. “Say it.”

“I love you, Morpheus.”

The dam breaks as I spill inside of you, shoving my cock as deep as I could possibly reach. Your gasp joins mine, and our sounds mingle with heaving breaths, your pitchy moans mixing with my deepened ones. You hold me as close as I hold you, and our lips slot together in the white noise of our ecstasy.

My hips continue their endless pursuit within you, desperate rolls thrusting within you just to make certain we’ve created our heir. For a while, I lay there on top of you, sparing you my weight but offering my warmth as I stay comfortably sheathed within you. Our gasping breaths have settled to gentle sighs, and you lay limply beneath me as you stare up at the ceiling. Contemplating.

When the time has unfortunately come to remove myself from you, I do as I adjust some hair from your face and kiss your forehead.

There was a fog in the room that I had not noticed before—not a physical one, of course. It’s beginning to clear in the aftermath of our combined pleasure. Your eyes slowly find mine, glazed still but the clearest they have been all night. Now that the blinding bliss has settled and you’ve fully awakened, there’s a clarity you’ve suddenly gained. You take in the sight of my face and I smile down at you, brushing my thumb over your cheek.

“Dream,” you mutter gently, to which I hum. “What have you done?”

My smile grows. I place a kiss to your lips, one that you seem to have trouble returning. Hooking my finger under your chin, I ensure you see me as I speak softly, a gentle hum that I know you shall hear.

“No one shall steal you from me now. Not even Death, no one. You are mine and only mine.”

Your eyes are glossy now, unshed tears gracing them that I hope to wipe away. “Dream,” you whisper, holding onto me with a tight grasp that I embrace. You look like you’ll say something, something dire and important. Instead, you close your mouth and smile, the kind of smile that must be pushed for.

“I love you,” you whisper. There’s an undertone to it that I dismiss. You’re tired, that’s all. I know you love me, and that’s all that matters.

I smile, kissing you again with all the love in my heart. My hand on your waist tightens, and I must remember that you are human. Pulling away from your lips, I brush my finger over your bottom one.

“I love you, too, my darling wife.”

Nothing can take that from us now.

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fluidjj · 1 month ago

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💀𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓓𝓪𝔂 1👻 |

👻𝒲𝒽𝑜 𝒴𝒶 𝒢𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝒞𝒶𝓁𝓁?👻

Female Bottom Reader (slightly dom) x Ghost Morph

🎮𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓹𝓱𝓮𝓾𝓼 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓻🎮

Synopsis: Reader finds themselves buying and moving into a suspiciously cheap house. Little does she know is the Ghost she’ll be sharing her new space with.

Kinks: Ghost sex, paranormal, partially invisible sex, belly bulge, size difference, scientific words and dirty words to refer to certain body parts, p in v, no condom, whiny male, creampie, begging male, humping, temperature play-ish, virgin Morph.

a/n: First day of Kinktober! Way longer than I meant it to be lol, will work on that. Next post will be Alex!

Word count: 3.8k

💀𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 ‘24 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽👻 MDNI 18+

The house you moved into seemed to raise eyebrows not just amongst your family but the community you were now a part of. Just months ago you were given the news of a promotion, having to move across the country for your new position where this beautiful Victorian home had quickly caught your eye. It was just you but it had more than enough rooms for a growing family in the future or at least a place to host family and friends for the holidays. The down payment was suspiciously cheap, the addition being the fact that no one seemed to jump at the chance from the online advertisement. You had to double-check just to make sure that the website was legit. It was a steal, with more pros than cons, though the big con was the remote location, miles from the nearest town and perched atop a hill with way more land than you knew what to do with.

Even the real estate agent assigned to the house seemed eager to give it away, pushy and overly friendly as if to keep you from changing your mind. Not a single negative thing came from their lips about the house or the previous owners. The only real thing that was considered to be negative was how outdated the home was, a cellar that looked straight out of an old movie, the electrical, plumbing and appliances would need to be worked on but it wasn’t anything to worry about.

A cheap home with a large square footage, more rooms and bathrooms than you knew what to do with, everyone was telling you it was a bad idea. But, standing here in your new living room, all their worries and concerns went out the window. It was beautiful, although dusty, a lot of the furniture seemed to be intact. Just small reminders of the era that the house came from. With a heavy sigh, you pulled off the plastic covering from the couch and plopped down. You’d done all the moving on your own, always known to be self-sufficient, you knew you could rely on yourself and get things done the way you liked. You may have been a bit over your head, especially with carrying boxes throughout the house to rest them in the corresponding rooms. With the ache in your limbs, you seriously doubted you’d be unpacking today.

With all your things unloaded from the moving truck, you allowed yourself a moment to relax. All the lights were on in the house but they were dim and yellow, giving the peeling wallpaper an eerie look. You were slowly growing accustomed to the house, the silence and periodic creaking from the old house settling. Something about it was calming, your eyes fluttering shut before you could stop yourself.

Unbeknownst to you the lights flickered, powering off briefly before they hummed back to life. A cold chill settled in the living room, goosebumps rising on your covered skin. The long-sleeved shirt and jeans you wore for the autumn season did nothing to shield you from the uncalled for chill. Shadows danced on the walls, stretching into oblong and elongated shapes. The chill seeped into your bones as a presence joined you at your side, clinging to your very being.

A hand reached out hesitantly, ghosting over the warmth of your cheek, eyes admiring the rise and fall of your breaths. It was only when you felt the chill on your neck that you woke, eyes fluttering sleepily. Moving all those boxes had taken a lot out of you and you stood in hopes of heading to bed. It was only then you remembered that you hadn’t unpacked your room, boxes of clothes pushed to the corner but your bed was at least intact. You walked out of the room, a wall of warmth greeting you as you left the living room behind. It was like you had been in a walk-in fridge, but in your tired brain, it was just something else to add on to the work that needed to be done.

You clicked off the lights one by one, crossing back over to the now warm living room. The house was dark, moonlight seeping in from the slit in the heavy curtains and that’s when you saw it, a glimmer of something as it moved away from the light. You may have excused it as a trick of the light if it didn’t vaguely make up the shape of a body. “Who’s there?” You called out into the room, the chill slowly returning. Your voice was soft, weak from disuse, not as firm as you’d like it to be when questioning a potential home invader.

The silence stretched as you stood there, trembling from the cold and the fear of there being someone in your house. Maybe it was a squatter? You had been confident in the state of the home since your last tour and didn’t think there was anything that needed looking for. You regret that decision now, peering into the dark to see if you saw any other signs of movement. The dark was staring back at you. Maybe you really were just tired…The fear began to dissipate but the chill remained, and slowly and hesitantly you turned to head to the staircase, suspiciously eyeing the curtains.

You climbed the staircase to the second floor, the chill following you into the hallway. The floorboards creaked under your weight as you pushed open the door. It squeaked eerily, swinging freely on its hinges. A breath caught in your thought when you saw the figure again, standing in the center of your bedroom. You hadn’t gotten the chance to close the curtains, the moonlight flooding into the room and illuminating it in a white light. The figure was there, tall but their features were indiscernible. It was as if you were peering into a rippling reflection, the longer you looked, the more distorted the features were. One thing was for certain that whoever this was…whatever this was, it wasn’t human. It was standing there and yet it was transparent, you could see your bed behind it.

“I can see you…” Instead of running your feet felt like they were planted in place, eyes wide as you took in your discovery. The idea of sleeping was gone completely as the figure shifted, surprised to be called out. “Who are you?” You quickly followed up, arms coming to hold your figure from the persisting cold. Silence stretched on again and you watched as the figure moved, a slow hesitant shuffle.

The closer it got, the more recognizable its features were. It was a man, easily towering over you with angular features and the softest brown eyes. His hair was cropped short, the sides shaved into a fade with tight coils of black curls on his head. Your blinking and your breathing became rapid, was he going to do something to you? What did he want from you?

“You can see me?” His voice was like a distant echo, deep and seemingly bouncing off the walls in the room. He sounded like he was in disbelief, the same disbelief you felt at the sight of him. He didn’t even seem tangible, like your hand would pass right through him if you tried to touch him. You had the juvenile thought that you must’ve been speaking to a ghost…? But, ghosts aren't real, right?

You gave a slow nod of your head in response, swallowing thickly as his expression changed from one of disbelief to excitement. His smile stretched wide, dimples dimpling his cheeks and his features stretching joyously.

“You’re the first person to ever see me.” His excitement was heard clearly in his voice and it was almost contagious, if it weren’t for the fact that a random man was standing in your bedroom.

“How’d you get in here? Who are you?” You repeated, your tone coming off more urgent. Several times you asked and it felt like he was dancing around your questions.

“I…” He started but paused, his brows pinching in confusion as he tried to recall his name. It was such a simple question, something everyone would know about themselves but he didn’t have an answer. “I’m…not sure. I don’t remember. I woke up here one day and haven’t been able to leave.” His tone shifted, noticeably more sad.

All the signs were pointing to this guy being a ghost, transparent, not remembering his name or where he’d come from. You would’ve thought he was crazy if it weren’t for the fact that you were seeing him with your own eyes. You gave a slow nod, he must’ve been disoriented and all alone…”That’s okay…” You found yourself saying, finally able to pick up your feet and move deeper into your bedroom.

You told him your name, wanting to turn on the light but unsure if he’d disappear when you did. “How are you…transparent?” You didn’t know how else to sugarcoat it, or if he even knew what you were talking about.

“I don’t really know, I’ve looked like this since I woke up. But, I can touch things.” He turned, looking around the room for an example. The room wasn’t as set up as the rest of the house, you had opted to toss the older furniture for your own more salvageable things. “Is it okay if..?” He trailed off, hand outstretched towards you but not moving any closer.

You nodded, curious yourself as his hand came down to touch your shoulder. It didn’t pass through as you expected, sitting heavy and cold on your shoulder. It was the same chill you’d felt in your dreams, seeping down to your bones.

“You…you’re warm…” The ghost murmured, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. Ever since he saw you enter the home he’d been smitten. From your first tour all those months ago, to you finally moving in. Seeing you sleeping on the couch he couldn’t resist a small touch. The feeling of your skin beneath his hand warmed his fingers more than he thought possible. Since waking up he’d never felt anything like it. All the previous homeowners had run when he tried to make himself known, just wanting to help from the situation he found himself in. Alone, afraid and invisible. But you were different, you could see him and speak to him.

“And you feel cold.” The chill that seemed to randomly take over the house made sense now, it was him roaming from room to room, watching you as you unpacked your boxes into the house. It should have made you nervous, the idea of constantly being watched, but it became clear that he was in need of some kind of help. “I could feel your presence all this time.” You admitted to him with your own revelation, biting your bottom lip in nervousness.

His lips twitched in a smile but his hand remained on your shoulder, his fingers flexing as the warmth settled. Silence settled again, and all he did was look over you, mainly your face as he took in your warmth. “Can I um…” He was unsure of how to ask, wanting to feel more of your warmth against him.

You were nodding before he could finish, assuming that he wanted to share your warmth. A part of you did want to help him, he seemed so lost, and in need of some kind of companionship. You reached out hesitantly, taking his free hand, and still you expected to go right through him. His hand was solid, just as the other one was on your shoulder. With a gentle squeeze, you led him over to the bed. The idea of turning on the lights was forgotten. With the moonlight you could see him perfectly, still a little ripply but manageable when you were close.

You let go of his hand briefly, sitting on your bed and scooting back until your back hit the headboard. You pat the space next to you, not as unnerved as you should be to cuddle a stranger, but the way you saw it, you guys were roommates from now on. It was like an icebreaker of sorts. You watched as he carefully climbed onto the bed with you and instead of settling next to you like you offered, he was crawling between your thighs.

To be so close to you like this was exciting, your warmth jumping to him like it was his own. It felt like he could wiggle his fingers and toes freely with less frigidity. He had no doubts that if he were to hold you closer, that the warmth would ease his whole body. He’d feel normal again.

The ghost kneeled between your thighs, carefully laying himself down overtop you. You smelled so nice…his eyes closing as he came to rest his head against your chest, his arms winding around your midsection. His weight came down to rest against you, heavy but comforting. You hadn’t expected such a reaction from him but you supposed you would do the same if you hadn’t had contact with anyone else in who knew how long.

It was quiet between you, comforting as you relished in each other's company. The exhaustion was returning, a burn behind your eyelids and the arms of another person was lulling you to sleep. Your breathing was just beginning to slow when you felt something poking against your upper inner thigh. It roused you along with the ghost’s quiet murmuring by your ear.

“I’m sorry…” He spoke quietly, his nose brushing along the length of your neck. You were blinking yourself awake when he ground his hips down against you causing whatever was pressing against you to shift.

“Sorry..?” You mumbled tiredly, hands moving to rub at your eyes and wake yourself up a little. You didn’t want to fall asleep on him without saying something, and you were close to doing just that so you could roll over and finally rest your tired limbs.

He didn’t respond for a while, starting to find a tempo with his hips. He sighed deeply through his nose, his growing bulge being strategically rubbed against the crotch of your pants. His movements were jerking your body gently, enough to lull you back to sleep if he wasn’t answering your question. “You just smell so nice…and you feel so warm. I couldn’t stop it…” He murmured. “I’m sorry…” He repeated, his lips brushing against your neck.

You lifted your head, realization settling from what he said and now it made sense as to what he was doing exactly. He did sound apologetic but the way he was desperately humping against you didn’t exactly reflect it. His grip tightened around you, his humping picking up its pace and rocking your body more noticeably.

“It’s…okay…” It was all you could think to say especially when he began to apply the right amount of pleasure against your clit. You figured you couldn’t be mad at him, he was a pent-up man and you were a little pent-up too…Homeownership wasn’t easy in the least and you hadn’t had much of a moment to yourself since starting the whole process.

The ghost’s breaths came out as pants, cool as it fanned over your skin. The cold persisted, more focused this time. Your back arched off briefly, nipples hardening and poking through the material of your shirt. “I’m not upset or anything…let’s just…” You let your words trail off as you reached to pull your shirt over your head, breasts bouncing free from the lack of a bra.

His face was flushed, mouth agape in surprise as you began to undress, hands working between your bodies to discard your pants next. He pulled back to give you space, the bulge in his pants more than obvious and just as desperate as he looked for attention. His next apology quickly died on his lips when your panties finally came into view. In the low lighting, he could see the wet patch where the material stuck to your vulva from your growing arousal.

“It’s okay baby, come here.” You spoke gently, as if he were a frightened animal. He certainly looked like it at the moment. The moon's rays shifted slightly, for a couple moments it passed through the ghost, shining down on your abdomen as if he wasn’t even there. Your hands reached out, helping him out of his clothes, which he eagerly helped you with.

Beneath his clothes, he was muscular, just enough to fit his large stature. His muscles were prominent but not unnecessarily so, a part of you wondered what he’d done while he was alive to keep in shape. His height and his body had barely clued you in to how big his length was. It bounced up briefly before it hung low from its weight. It was thick and veiny, matching his dark complexion in color. Precum had already started to bead at the tip, his length twitching a few times from the visuals of your own body.

The ghost shifted closer from your invitation, watching as you laid flat on the mattress, your head supported by your pillows. You were watching his face, hand reaching down to take hold of his thick and heavy length. It took some adjusting with the height difference but when he was close enough, you eagerly guided his drooling tip to your entrance. Just like the rest of him, his tip was cold as he pressed against your sopping entrance, squelching noisily from the applied pressure.

He took a breath, holding it in anticipation as you carefully guided him deeper. “Push your hips forward.” He was distracted, eyes glued to where you were connected, but his hips moved from pure instincts. He was seeking out your warmth, his tip finally pushing in up until the ridge of his mushroom tip. He moaned unabashedly, feeling the ways your walls clenched and sucked on him, trying to grow used to his size.

You watched as his eyes rolled back, spurts of precum painting your walls, and easily spilling past his tip and down your taint. With your dainty hand still holding onto him, you pulled his length towards you, guiding him to slide in deeper. You were taking your own quick inhales, his girth spreading you deliciously. Grool spilled over the ⅓ of him you had managed to work in thus far, his veins brushing against every spongy spot inside your walls.

“Oh, thank you…thank you.” He repeated, his hips starting to move on their own even in his haze of pleasure. For a moment it was without rhythm, the ghost working purely on what felt good, trying to get as deep into you as he possibly could. It was more than just the constriction of your walls, or your hungry pussy trying to suck him deeper. It was the warmth that shot out to his fingers and his toes, it spread throughout his very being.

You moved your hands to instead cup his cheeks, turning his face towards you. His expression was pleasure-stricken, his words coming out as delirious mumbles when he finally settled into a rhythm. His thick length bullying your walls open had your moans joining his, grool squelching loudly past his length. “There you go.” You murmured, your legs coming to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper with the pressure against his tailbone. “Just like that baby.” Your lips met his in a desperate kiss, his hips stuttering momentarily from the distraction.

His length felt heavy inside of you, the angle perfect to have him gliding along your front walls, a bulge pressing against your pelvis from his size. Your hips ground down eagerly, moaning against his lips as his pace quickened from the taste of your lips.

Your tits bounced against his chest enticingly from his eager pumps, nipples brushing against the cold of his skin. Your walls sucking his length just as desperately as your lips came to wrap around his tongue and suck on it. You cupped his cheek while the other came down to stroke your pulsing clit, your walls milking him harder.

“Think I’m gonna…” The ghost mumbled, leaning in to catch your lips again to quiet his desperate moans. He was chasing his own orgasm now, his cold hands desperately coming to grasp onto your thighs, pressing them down towards your chest, forcing his length into the base.

You grunted softly, his balls smacking loudly against his skin and his tip finding your g spot. You yelped as he pummeled the spot hard, your eyes fluttering closed from the dizzying pleasure. He held your body still beneath him, moans escaping from your throats, mingling together and making the air warm finally.

“Right there baby, keep going.” Your words were cut off between moans. It was now his mission to hold out before you, his length wet to the base, sticking to your skin briefly before he was pulling out and burying himself right back in. The moonlight had shifted slightly, the ghost's form flickering from the lack of light. If it weren’t for his cock stretching you out and his hands on your body you wouldn’t have known he was there.

Glancing down, your hole was lewdly spread around nothing and that excited you. An invisible lover spreading you open, making you moan louder than anyone else you’d been with even with his over-excited humping. Your fingers worked faster on your clit, your breathing quickening as your orgasm crashed into you. Your walls clenched down tightly, cum splashing over his length quickly, your hips bucking slightly, trying to alleviate the pressure on your g spot.

“Yes yes yes.” Invisible lips pressed down against your neck, his grip firm to keep you from squirming away from him. You were clenching down on him but simultaneously trying to push his length out from the force of your orgasm. It made him shudder from the warmth you were gracing him with, his thrusts slowly when his own orgasm came, flooding your walls with warm cum. He thrusted a few times, forcing his load deeper, the mess between you becoming creamy.

You let out a sigh, your body buzzing pleasantly, and when your eyes opened, his form was back, moonlight flooding back into your room like it had never felt. Your hand reached down, gently stroking over the twitching bulge that sat inside of you.

A comfortable silence settled, the ghost nuzzling into your neck affectionately, releasing your thighs to stroke your body tenderly. He murmured something against your neck to which you responded with a lazy hum, not having heard him.

“Can we uh…do that again..?” He murmured shyly, brown eyes searching yours, desperate for an answer. With a subtle grind of his hips, you noticed he was still hard, throbbing, and desperate for another round. Not only did you have a ghost haunting your home, but a horny one at that.

#fluidjj #morpheus carter #dom reader #reader insert #female reader #x reader #fem reader #smut #original character #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #ghost #ghost morph

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miladysproblems · 1 year ago

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MASTERPOST

Do not steal, repost, re-write Or translate my work without my given consent. I do not appreciate giving my work to any Ai enabled platforms or chat bots. Kindly respect a person's work. ♡I currently write♡ m stands for mature

Sandman(Netflix series) •Morpheus x human lover - fluff •Affliction(series) - angst, sad ending Part 1: Morpheus plans a date with you and doesn't turn up Part 2: You run and find Morpheus with calliope Part 3: Mathew comforts you but You leave morpheus

Bahubali stuff Maheshmati happy ending<33 - fluff Bhallaldeva x reader - power couple - fluff The king and queen - Bahubali x devsena - fluff

Loki Laufeyson Loki x reader - angst, fluff

Bridgerton Benedict bridgerton - pretty, fluff

Avatar 2 (mainly Neteyam) I'm not in my neteyam phase anymore so dont expect any fics for a long time. •Missed you -hurt/comfort, lil angst, fluff •Beautiful - tooth rotting fluff Part 1: Neteyam is alive and reconciles with his family but what about you? Part 2 (coming soon)

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◆◇◆◇◆◇

☽I want to write☾ (hopefully I will soon enough)

Dramione

Yea.. I procrastinate a lot ╥﹏╥ ●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○ Request rules: I appreciate all requests apart from the ones that make me uncomfortable like Rape, too much dark romance(includes violence or abuse) Apart from that ask awayy.. ●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus angst #morpheus x reader #dramione #draco x hermione #dream x fem!reader #dream x calliope #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #bhallaladeva #bhallaladeva x reader #bahubali #bahubali 2

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dervampireprince · 2 months ago

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youtube

ASMR | The Sandman - Dream x Listener SFW Calling To Dream When You're Regressed

[M4A] [Established platonic or romantic relationship] [Regression comfort (left vague as to whether it's age regression or pet regression)] [Left vague enough that the listener can you or Hob]

I'm so happy Dream was finally requested again, I love doing his voice so much, something about voicing him just makes me excited and perhaps gender euphoric. Based on a Patreon request. Not That Eli asked "I would love to see a Dream regression audio, whether little, or puppy, or kitten (hello, king of cats!)". AceofHearts asked"A regression audio with Dream 💞 I bet he could make the listener feel so small and safe if they were regressed in the Dreaming."

Old public spicy audios on sound gasm (link in pinned post). 2 Exclusive spicy audios on Patreon every month. I also stream on Twitch every week @ dervampireprince . [minors + ageless blogs dni. this blog is for 18+ only.] [do not repost/reupload/edit any of my content]

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dragon-kazansky · 6 months ago

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Heart of the Dreaming

Morpheus x Female Reader

Soulmate AU

You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.

{Masterlist}

{Next Chapter}

Chapter One - See you in my dreams

☆☆☆

1916 - 11 years old

Tonight was the night.

Tonight was the night your father was going to summon Death and try and bring your older brother back.

You were sitting in your room, on the edge of the bed, hands restlessly placed in your lap as you can hear the clock ticking away. You were nervous. Of course you were. This plan was crazy, but your father was crazy enough to go through with this.

Of course you missed your brother. He was better than you and Alex in every way, but he loved you both. Rodrick certainly loved him better than his other children. When he died, your father seemed to only hate you even more.

You could hear everyone bustling about the house. The book your father had been waiting for had arrived. Tonight he would attempt the impossible. At least, impossible by your standards.

No one could capture Death.

Death was inevitable and came for everyone. Even your brother. That was just the truth of it. There was not a spell in the world that could being him back.

You were not allowed to leave your room, despite the fact Alex, who was younger than you, was permitted to watch. It didn't seem fair. Even if you believed the matter to be impossible, why couldn't you witness the attempt?

At some point, the house grows quiet. You sit there with nothing but the sound of your soft breathing to keep you company. Your eyes focused on the door.

The silence was becoming deafening.

Had they done it?

You climb off your bed and open your door. At first, you don't see or hear anyone. The house seemed empty, but after a few more moments, you can hear voices and footsteps. You stand in the doorway of your bedroom and watch as many of your father's men go past talking too quickly for you to understand what they're saying.

You look down the hall and see your father walking to his study, a peculiar item in his hand. Alex comes into view and looks at you for a moment. You want to go over and ask what happened, but his name gets called and he hurries off.

A sense of something bad sets in your bones.

☆☆☆

You're in bed when you hear knocking on your door. It's quiet and hesitant, as if the other person wasn't supposed to be here. You climb out of bed and head to the door, opening it slightly. You see Alex standing there.

Alex comes into your room and closes the door behind him quickly. He looks at you with big eyes, worry embedded in them.

"What happened?" You ask him.

Alex walks over to your bed and takes a seat. He looks down at his slippers. "I think he did it."

"He did?" You look at Alex with wide eyes.

"Well... there's something down there..." Alex tells you, voice quiet. You swallow nervously.

Something.

"Death?"

Alex shakes his head. "No... I don't think so. I heard father talking to someone in his office, but I couldn't hear everything."

"What did you hear?" You ask, eager to know what had happened.

"Something about dreams."

"Dreams?" You had no idea what that meant.

Alex simply shrugged and looked up at you. "I'm afraid."

"Will it hurt us?"

"I don't know... I hope not. I didn't get to look at it for very long."

Silence fell between you both. You weren't sure what else to ask. All you knew was that your father had successfully caught something down in the basement, and you were too scared to even dig deeper.

Alex left your room, leaving you more questions than answers. However, for now, it felt better to leave it like that.

☆☆☆

1926 - 21 years old

Rodrick never mentioned the demon in his basement. You never asked about it, no matter how curious you got. You had heard the whispers. Everyone called it a demon, which frightened you even more.

You had done your utmost to forget about the thing in the basement. The stories were enough to put you off going down there. Even the people in town talked about Rodrick's demon.

He became something of a celebrity.

However, the world was suffering.

Dreams. Alex had told you Rodrick and his stranger in the office had spoken about dreams. As it turned out, some people could no longer sleep, some couldn't ever wake up. Dreams became a thing of tale, none existent.

Except for the ones you had been having.

You hadn't told anyone. Not even Alex. Your dreams were yours. Your secret. Your strange mysterious secret.

You dream of a man.

It's dark, but you can see him. He's sitting there, naked. He is expressionless. He never speaks. He just sits there with his legs up, arms around his knees, and staring forward.

You don't know his name.

Every night, you see him in your dreams. He seems to be trapped. Unable to go anywhere. You wonder if he's hungry and cold. He must be.

"Who are you?"

You always wake up right after that.

Every night, he's there in your dreams. It's strangely comforting. He's your secret. You just wish you knew who he was.

As you leave your room today, you see Alex leaving the office with a shotgun in hand. You frown as you look at him, catching a glimpse of your father in the office.

"What are you doing?" You ask him.

"I'm going to shoot a bird." Alex responds, though not so happily.

You stare at him hard. "A bird?"

"A raven," Alex says.

"Huh?"

"I'm off to kill his raven."

"Who's raven?"

Alex looked at you with an empty stare. He clutches the shotgun in his fist tight. Alex knew you had never seen the man in the basement. Rodrick had kept it that way. He had always said you were more trouble than you were worth.

"The thing in the basement."

Alex didn't say anything more as he left the house. You were confused by everything. Nothing made any sense to you.

You wanted to know what your father was keeping down there. Yet, fear consumed you. Was it dangerous?

Why did it have a raven? That confused the most.

It was half an hour later when you heard a gunshot. You had been in your room, staying out of the way as usual. The sound echoed through the house and scared you. You rushed to the door and looked down the hall. Alex and your father emerged from the basement. Alex looked lost.

You wanted to go over and ask what had happened, but Rodrick spots you watching and you retreat into your room.

☆☆☆

A few days go by where you don't see much of Rodrick or Alex. You do your best to avoid them as much as possible. Which was probably for the best as far as Rodrick was concerned.

Ethel, your father's mistress, was pregnant. He didn't want it. Of course he didn't.

Having so much time to yourself gave you time to think. Your dreams were consistent. Every night, you saw the naked man in his glass prison. Just sitting there, waiting.

Waiting for what? You did not know.

However, you wanted to help him. You wanted to understand him. You just didn't know who he was, or where he was.

That night, Ethel ran away. While you were tucked up in your bed sleeping, visiting your dream man, Ethel had run away with the tools, and some money from Rodrick's safe.

She was gone.

Rodrick was furious.

From what you heard, he tried to bargain with the being in the basement. When he got no response, Rodrick turned his anger to Alex. Had heard the yelling. You had wanted to go down there and see what was happening, but the guard at the door was stopping you.

That's when it happened.

Alex pushed Rodrick, and your father hit his head quite badly. He did not get up again.

The funeral was a week later.

☆☆☆

1931 - 25 years old

The house was too quiet these days. Alex spent most of his time avoiding you. You tried to occupy yourself with your hobbies, but there was a voice in the back of your head nagging at you.

The basement.

It was still guarded. Alex kept it that way. However, you knew times when the door wasn't guarded. There wasn't anyone there 24/7. Some of the guards like to slack off.

You had decided. You were going to go down there. After all this time, you wanted to know what your father had captured that day. You wanted to know the reason your father had been so successful and popular with people in town.

You wanted to know why things were the way they were.

You waited. The guard left as usual. He always disappeared for 15 minutes on his shifts. 30 if he thought he could get away with being away that long. This was your chance to get down there.

You were quiet as you moved down the hall. You weren't sure exactly where Alex was at this time of night. You needed to be careful. You double-checked to make sure no one was around and unlocked the door to the basement. You had been planning this for weeks. You knew the codes and the schedules for the guards. You knew someone else would normally be down there, but never at this time of night. That's why the guard thought he could get away with disappearing for so long.

You looked down the dark stairs and took a moment before going through with your plan. Finally, you would see what was down there.

You descend the stairs.

It was dark. Lighting was kept to a minimum, it seemed. You were careful as you took each step and soon enough found yourself at the bottom.

What you saw was not what you expected.

You slowly reach out and open the gate, taking in the sight before you. A large glass globe surrounded by the summoning circle your father had made years ago. Inside the globe was a man.

A man.

A very familiar man.

You feel like all air from your lungs is stolen from you as you stare at him. Your dream man. There he was! Naked and curled up by himself inside his prison.

All this time, you were dreaming of the man in the basement. You find yourself stepping a little closer, not sure what to do. Nothing made sense. This was impossible. How can you be dreaming about this man? And why is he trapped like this?

Who is he?

Sensing your presence, he looks up. In those next few seconds, several things happen. Your eyes connect with his, and you find yourself lost in them. A searing pain crosses your wrist, and you gasp loudly, cradling your hand. You drop your gaze from him to look at the red scar on your wrist. When you look back up, he's cradling his own hand but doesn't seem to be in pain like you.

You stare at him.

He stares at you.

"Who are you?" You ask.

The man in the globe moves slowly, leaning forward slightly. He's keeping himself covered, but he's still moving toward the glass. With one hand, he reaches out, hand dressed against the glass of his prison.

You feel strange. At ease. It was like he was trying to calm you from within his prison.

"Who are you?" You ask again.

You watch as he part his lips, prepared to speak, but a voice behind you speaks instead, leaving you in shock and embarrassment for getting caught in the basement.

"What are you doing down here?" Alex asks.

You frown. "I came to see what was down here! You can't keep me in the dark forever."

Alex pulls you behind him as he looks at the man in the cage. "You have to stay away from him."

"Alex--"

"No! He's dangerous. I think..."

You push past Alex and stand between him and the other man. You glare at your brother. Alex looks at you with mixed confused and disappointment.

"Who is he? What is he?"

Alex says your name.

"No! Tell me. What is all this? What did father do?"

Alex clenches his fist at his side and takes a deep breath. "You need to leave. Get out of here."

"Why is there a man trapped in the basement, Alex?"

Alex loses his patience with you and lunges forward, grabbing your arm tightly. You try to fight him off, but he wraps both his arms around you, restraining your arms.

"Alex! Let go of me!"

"You shouldn't have come down here," he says angrily.

From within his prison, Morpheus stands. He doesn't like what he's seeing. You. You had been living in this house all along, and he had no idea. Now you were here, you had come to see him, and you were being dragged out again.

Alex called for help, and two people came running. Paul and the guard should have been on duty. Morpheus leans against the glass with both hands as he watches Alex demand you get removed from the basement. The two men take hold of you and start dragging you back upstairs, all the while you're ahouing at Alex.

Alex turns and looks at him.

"Don't you ever speak to her. Don't you ever do anything to her." Alex demands. "She was never supposed to see you..."

Alex leaves.

Morpheus sinks back down in his prison and curls up again. His hands ball into fists as he stares ahead of him.

His soulmate had been here all along.

He needed to get out.

He needed to save you from this house.

He turns his hand over and looks at his wrist. A small scar in the shape of a star. He had had it forever. He ran his thumb over it. He knew from the moment he looked at you, from the moment you received your scar, that you were his soulmate.

It was unheard of for an Endless to have such a thing, but Dream had always been unique. If anyone wasn't going to be granted a partner for eternity, it was going to be him.

Not that he was actively looking. Morpheus had had lovers before, certainly, but knowing you're right there above him, it changes things.

You were real.

They only let go of you once you're in your room. Alex closes the door on you and you hear him lock you in. You bang against the door furiously and then stop, sobbing as you sink to the floor.

None of this was making any sense to you.

Did Alex know something?

Who was that man?

And why did your wrist still burn?

☆☆☆

@deniixlovezelda - @missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @meganlpie - @thoughtsfromlayla - @ladyjbrekker

@mwaaaaaugh - @bluespecs14 - @intothesoul - @lady-violet - @navs-bhat - @krahk - @oldsoulmagic

@rubyrose2014 - @lorkai - @roxytheimmortal - @thescarletwitchjobro - @intothesoul - @gemini-mama - @whotperlinda

@dreamingblueberries - @the-shadow-of-aurora - @novavida - @blackgirlmagicforever

#heart of the dreaming #Morpheus x Female Reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman #soulmate au #dragon writes

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alexander-arcturus-black-lupin · 1 year ago

Text

Morpheus is intrigued

Part II

The smell of your arousal must have been the cause. That's all he could say to defend his actions.

"Hello starlight," you jumped out of bed, your face hot with embarrassment.

"Morpheus," He noted how shrill your voice went. How you clenched your legs together. He noticed how you had inched far from the bed aswell.

"It seems you are in-"

"Nothing! absolutely nothing," you shaky legs howwver denyed you the pleasure of walking as you stumbled back from the bed. Morpheus on a hunch entered your thoughts. He was well....intrigued.

To see a retreating imagery of him in you fucking your brains out.

"Tell me starlight, do you want my help?" Morpheus was in love with you, you knew this, you were in love with him too but you were scared.

A mortal and an Endless.

So you always kept him close but not too close. As you stared into his eyes you wondered.

This could change everything...

Do I want to change everything.

No.

Maybe

Fuck yes

You bit your lip.

Yes.

"I want more than your help Morpheus," His eyes glimmered. He knew what you meant. He knelt down and took up your hand in his. Kissing it softly he smiled.

"It would be my honor," He pulled you towards him keeping eye contact.

He leans in and you feel yourself float as his lips gently graze yours. He kisses you so softly it feels like a dream. You notice how brighter the sky becomes through your lashes. A small smile crosses your lips. You bring him closer and sink into the kiss.

"I promise to give you the world in the palm of your hand. The stars dangling of you like jewelery, everything and everyone bowing at your presence, just say the word" he said.

And you knew he meant it

Morpheus got me Feral bro i need a sabbaticals of two weeks to properly write the smut bro cus i keep sidelining and avoiding. My brain moves faster than my fingers. Y'all be patient for me yeah. I promise I'll write you proud. Also if you want something custom check my asks and dms <333

Mrs. Black signing off <333

#morpheus sandman #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus x oc #morpheus x reader #morpheus #lord morpheus #morpheus smut #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x y/n smut #morpheus x you #morpheus x female reader #Morpheus x fem!reader #Morpheus x f!reader #i should really do kinktober #kinktober 23 #Morpheus x black reader #!!!BlackReader!!!

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writethrough · 10 months ago

Note

Hello! I just finished reading your Morpheus fics and I absolutely love them! So I thought about requesting something, too. Morpheus x reader where reader is feeling well and calls for him. They spend all evening togheter after a long time. reading togheter, watching some movies, talking and sharing their thoughts... until Morpheus notice it’s really late, almost midnight, and it’s time for reader to sleep, but she doesn't want to ‘cause Morpheus is always busy and she misses spending time with him, even whe she's asleep lately he was never there. Morpheus feels guilty and promises her he’ll be more present, especially in her dreams. A nice ending where he stays with her until she falls asleep, and him appearing in her dreams as he promised? Thank you 💖

A Homemade Remedy

(Morpheus x Female Reader)

Synopsis: After days of dealing with your sickness by yourself, you give in and call your boyfriend, hoping he'll come.

Warnings: Minor language

Word Count: 815

A/N: Stop two on the apology tour. I'm so sorry this has taken so long! And I want to thank you profusely for your patience. And for sending the request in. I really hope you enjoy this fluffy little fic!

Normally, you wouldn’t bother Morpheus with this. He had more important things to deal with instead. But you felt as if Death would appear at any moment, and all you wanted was some comfort from your boyfriend.

You pressed the ruby pendant he gifted you to your heart, croaking his name.

“Beloved?”

You blinked, seemingly slower than usual.

“Hi,” you whispered, covers pulled to your chin.

He took you in for a few moments, brows pinched slightly. You could only tell he was worried because of how long you’d known him.

“You are unwell.”

“S’just a—” A coughing fit started, only ceasing when he handed you your glass of water. “Just a cold.”

Between the tissues piled in the trash beside your bed, the bottle of medication without its lid, and the two additional blankets on top of you, he knew that wasn’t the case. You’d been here much longer than a few hours.

“Why did you not call for me when your ailment began?”

And there it was, the look you were dreading the more you prolonged summoning him. You’re not even sure he’s aware of his “kicked puppy” look.

You shrugged, pulling the covers just below your nose.

Morpheus made no sound—as graceful and Endless as ever. The only indication he had moved was the lifting of your blankets as he slid in behind you.

“Turn around, my love.”

You were far too weak and needy to refuse.

Settling with your head on his thigh, he rested a hand on your hair.

“I am here now, and I will take care of you,” he said. “Whatever you may need, I will gather.”

“Just this.” Your voice barely carried on a whisper.

“Then here I shall remain.”

Morpheus always spoke softer than you would expect while still containing all the authority in the universe, but it sounded even softer. It held gentleness—kindness—a quality that said, “You are precious to me.”

“What about the Dreaming?” you asked, eyes closed.

“In Lucienne’s capable hands,” he replied without hesitation. You were so considerate of him and his duties, for once, he wished you’d be selfish.

“What if she needs you?” Even as you said this, your arm settled over his lap.

“She has looked after my realm much longer than you will be ill.”

You squeezed him as best you could at the reminder. You didn’t like to think about what had happened to him. Though you met long after that, it hurt to know someone could do that to another being—human or not.

Morpheus had reassured you he had healed. Much of that having to do with you.

“Could you read to me, then?” you asked.

A book appeared in seconds, his voice matching perfectly to the cadence of the lines. It didn’t matter what he was saying, hearing him speak in that hypnotic rumble was enough. Even the flipping of the page didn’t distract you. He was captivating from the first word.

He’d read two chapters when your stomach growled.

“When did you last eat?” His smile was soft, thumb grazing your arm.

You shrugged, not wanting to be scolded.

“Can you eat?”

You weren’t sure if it was how shitty you were feeling, how tired you were, or how helpless you felt, but his words went straight to your heart.

He considered how you might feel. He wasn’t pushing you to eat, but asking if you thought you could stomach anything. He wanted to help, but not at the risk of causing you more discomfort.

You nodded, keeping your eyes closed so he wouldn’t see them watering.

“Here.” He helped you sit up before picking up the bowl of broth that had manifested on the nightstand.

You went to grab it, but he tutted, picking the spoon up himself and bringing it to your mouth.

“I can feed myself,” you said after swallowing.

“I know,” he said. “Please. Let me help you.”

You ate the next spoonful without complaint, and soon, the bowl was empty.

“Thank you,” you mummered, head nestled into the crook of his shoulder.

“It’s late, you must rest,” he whispered into your hair.

You shook your head, and tried to snuggle yourself closer to him, like if you planted yourself firmly enough, he wouldn’t be able to leave.

“Haven’t seen you in forever,” you mumbled. “Don’t wanna waste it.”

Guilt flooded Morpheus. He knew he had been neglectful of you, but you had been so patient with him. You were the embodiment of understanding—and he had taken advantage of that.

“Go to sleep, dear one. I will meet you in the Dreaming.” His lips pressed to your crown.

You hummed, head growing heavy.

And when your eyes opened, there he was, holding you as you laid in his chambers.

He smiled fondly, brushing your chin with his knuckles.

“What shall we do now, my love?”

Taglist: @sayumiht, @hatterripper31, @snowsatsu, @1950schick, @navs-bhat, @bookshelf-dust, @sapphireonline, @fictional-hooman, @steph-speaks, @ladyredstar1991, @secretdreamlandmentality, @ababycake, @morpheuss1mp, @boofy1998, @alice-the-nerd, @herfantasyworldd, @poemfreak306, @tronnily, @commanderfreethatdust

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on.

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 5 months ago

Text

Persephone's Devotee (Hello, Mr. Monster AU, II)

Master List

Summary: In the age of Spiritualists and magicians, wyrd winds in different ways to link Dream of the Endless and Aisling Hunt. AU of Hello, Mr. Monster beginning in the 1920s.

Warnings: Implied child abuse/neglect, manipulating children for profit (non-sexual trafficking)

IT'S BIRTHDAY MONTH, BABY. LET'S GET POSTING. My inbox is always open, so drop by with your questions, concerns, and convos.

Men ever failed.

Dream waited for a guard to sleep. For Roderick Burgess to scratch the golden border with his heel in a fit of pique. Someday, someone would make a mistake. It was the truth of humanity, and nothing, even a prison of magic, iron, and glass could last forever.

Years gathered in his keeper’s faces, and his outrage cooled into sharper forms. Intent. Disgust. Hatred even. Wrath brewed behind closed lips. He gave his captors nothing so long as they held him, but new nightmares twisted in his heart, ready to breathe and shriek to life.

The hours of the day made no change in his windowless hold, and he only judged the turning of the seasons by the weight of the coats his guards draped over the backs of their chairs. Their rolled shirt sleeves and the gleam of half-dried perspiration on their brows told him it was summer. Or near it. Persephone had returned to her mother’s sight and the sun glowed warm on the earth for another year.

He’d once pitied the queen of the underworld, especially when she was first forced below the earth, before her mother’s dogged pursuit of justice gave the goddess power and agency in her marriage. Now, he envied her. If only he had family who so cared for his freedom he would not languish in some paltry magician’s lesser hell.

As Dream of the Endless mulled over the injustices gathering like dust in the crevices of his prison, the door to his Underworld swung open. Though he couldn’t see the door itself, the light behind the gate’s bars turned golden, motes glittered like his sand in the beam as Roderick Burgess’s boy – well on his way to becoming a man – stumbled down the steps. His father’s shouts echoed down with him, and Dream’s posture straightened, buoyed by his captor’s distress even as the sun’s distant bloom pricked his heart with mournful hope.

In his rush, the child hadn’t even brought the key, and he pressed his face against the wrought iron, fingers twisting through to keep himself steady.

“Quick,” he panted. “Sykes is out, and the new ward collapsed. I’m calling a doctor, but one of you need to help the Magus move her…”

“Close the bloody door, you fool!” The distant roar cut off with a slam. Alex Burgess flinched away from his father’s temper, and the budding hope in Dream’s chest withered into an invisible wound, leaving an aching pit he rushed to fill with rage.

They so rarely visited him at this hour, on such a bright day. He wondered if he might’ve smelled the breeze if not for the glass, tasted yellow pollen and the ghost of ripening berries were he not locked behind magic and iron.

In truth… perhaps he did feel the heat, the touch of fresh air, a fraction of the world beyond. He sensed the whispered suggestion of wyrd pulling at him, plucking along the tattered place hope left when Burgess slammed the door.

Something waited for him beyond his prison. A step. A link unmade. It itched in the back of his mind like a phantom limb, and he nearly followed the call to move. To find and see. But his pride held him back from pressing his hands to the glass.

The elder of Dream’s two day guards turned to the other and scoffed. “Not here an hour and already causin’ problems. You owe me a pound.”

“There isn’t time for this,” the boy insisted. “She’s not well. Hurry! Please.”

He ran back the way he’d come, and barely a flicker of gilding touched the gate before it shattered behind the door again.

The guard who’d lost the bet rose with a groan, fetched the key from the table, and pounded off to answer his master’s call, closing each layer of security as he went.

Another burst of light and sound as the man left the cellar. Another tantalizing hint of the world above.

Dream did not move as his remaining guard straightened in his seat, twice as wary now that he’d been left alone with his charge. The Endless’s thoughts, however, groped after the phantom sensations he’d stolen with his gasp of light. He chased the thread of his wyrd through memory, looking for something to compare the moment to, but it slipped through his fingers, unraveling before he could reach the solution to his riddle.

He had little to do besides toy with the frayed ends of his story, and he refused to let the question lie, even when the second guard returned, the men ended their shift, the night guards arrived, and the guards of the day came back to sit in the same tableau.

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

She woke to golden sun and dark wood, all warm and clean and entirely different from what she remembered. Someone had changed her into a nightgown, and she drifted back to herself in a small bed in a room with a slanting ceiling. An attic, maybe. She’d slept in those before. But this one was finished, with plaster on the walls and a window with proper glass and all.

And a boy was sitting by the bed in a rickety chair that creaked even when he wasn’t moving. Alex. He’d said he was Alex, and he’d taken her suitcase and asked if she was alright.

“How are you feeling?”

She pushed up to her elbows, peering around the room, and Alex poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table.

“Here,” he said, “you should drink something. The doctor said it was heat exhaustion.”

It took a moment to poke at the empty gap in her memory, like examining a canker sore with the tip of her tongue. “What doctor?”

The boy wrapped her hands around the glass and guided it to her face until she relented and started sipping. It was as nice and cold as the lemonade had been.

“You fainted. The Magus called a doctor. The doctor said you had heat exhaustion.” He laid out the facts the way she spread her cards. Careful and direct. “Are you feeling any better? You’ve been resting here a few hours now.”

“I feel fine.” She didn’t feel well. She felt unsteady and ill, but not like she had before, when her mind grew knuckles just so they could turn white with the effort of holding onto her goal: reaching Fawney Rig and making a good impression on her new guardian.

She wouldn’t make things worse. She wouldn’t complain. She was well enough.

“If you’re feeling up to it, the Magus would like to speak with you. I’ll step out into the hall while you get dressed unless you need my help, and then I’ll take you to him. Alright?”

Aisling scowled. “I’m not a baby. I can get dressed by myself.”

A smile fluttered through a quick life and death across his face. “Of course you can. I’m sorry. We’ve just been very worried. You looked so small and fragile when you dropped in the hall…”

The Fosters liked to tell Aisling she was too proud. She looked too many people in the eye that she shouldn’t, and she didn’t like to apologize when someone took offense to the truths they asked from her cards. Maybe she was. She’d learned she couldn’t trust people to be kind for very long, but she could rely on herself.

Sitting up straight as she could and lifting her chin, she said, “I am not fragile. It was a very long walk, and a hot day, and I am not tall.”

A ghost of the earlier smile echoed in Alex’s expression, which was better than the pained look of concern he wore before. But Aisling wouldn’t accept any softness if she couldn’t have respect first. Sitting just wasn’t cutting it, so she moved up onto her knees to see more eye-to-eye and held out her hand for a second attempt at good manners.

“We didn’t properly finish our introduction,” she said. “I’m Aisling Hunt.”

Alex adopted a – clearly false – somber expression, but he buried his mirth well enough to at least feign respect. More importantly, he accepted the handshake this time.

“Alex Burgess. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Hunt.”

The last name nearly shocked her out of her dignified pose. He wasn’t at all what she’d thought a child of the Magus would look or behave like. Not that there was anything wrong with Alex. He was an improvement on the pomaded princeling she might’ve expected.

She knew better than to ask questions. Open ears and closed lips. She hated whenever the Fosters told her to do that, but damn if it wasn’t a useful habit in new places with unknown faces. Find what was wanted, what was hated, before committing to a path. People would always tell her what they wanted, one way or another.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Burgess.”

“Just Alex, remember?”

“Aisling, then.”

“Aisling.” Another little smile. This one less condescending. Maybe even fond. “I’ll be outside.”

“Alright.”

The boy left the creaky chair and closed an equally creaky door. Aisling found her suitcase in the corner and put on a fresh dress that didn’t smell and tidied her sweat-stiff hair. Too late to make a good impression, but she’d arrived where she was meant to be. She went where she was told, and the Fosters couldn’t call her back even if they wanted. She was no longer theirs – their burden or their cash cow.

She didn’t waste time, barely pausing to sip a little more water to help her swallow down her unsteady stomach before reaching for the doorknob.

Her future waited downstairs, and the Magus expected her.

#fic: persephone's devotee #morpheus x reader #morpheus x female reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x original character #fic: hello mr. monster

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