#morpheus x you smut

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin-r]

Fluff

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

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

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

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

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You: A for Aphrodisiac

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

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

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

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

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

B for Breeding

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet, nothing. 

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

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

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

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

“Your hand is glowing,” He states. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He groans into your neck. “Aphrodisiac.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B for Breeding

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

Until the next fic,

♡ Yours, Layla

[lis-likes-fics]

Dream a Little Dream

Pairings: Dream of the Endless x wife!Reader Word Count: 1.9k words Kink: Sleep/Morning Sex Warnings: NSFW, so vanilla, fingering, p in v, so many pet names you'll explode, nothing else really... A/N: I am already....so behind. The next few prompts may end up being really short like this one, as I have nothing prepared as of now. So I'll either write short stuff for a while or hold off on posting for a day or two until I can catch up again. Sorry, guys. Thanks!

The groggy pull of waking sticks to your skin like sap. You pull your heavy eyelids open and moan lazily as you bring your hand to rest upon the one heavy on your side. You intertwine your hand with pale fingers, moving closer to the being already holding you close as the flutter haze of the morning soaks into you.

With a lazy murmur, the deep voice of your husband fills your ears. "Good morning, my darling." His words glue together like licorice that had been melded in the heat.

"Good morning," you mumble.

Morpheus shifts forward until his entire body is pressed flat against yours. You feel the tip of his nose brush against the back of your shoulder, and his lips follow as he presses them into your skin. "How are you?"

You take in a long, deep breath, shutting your eyes again on a hum. "Sleepy." He chuckles lightly. "But I had a wonderful dream."

Morpheus smiles slowly. "My love, this is a dream."

You hum again, amused as you chuckle a little as well. "Well, then, I had a wonderful evening."

Visions of the evening flash behind your eyes, vivid images of flesh and fingers and lips. So much skin against smooth skin, lips on plush lips, eyes on gazing eyes. Your heart swells at the memory, as does his.

You sigh longingly, your eyes still closed as you relish in the softness of the pillow under your cheek and the warmth of his body against yours. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth as you speak, supporting your claim that: "I would love to repeat it but…I am much too tired."

Morpheus hums. "I would not take your sleep, but I shall take the work, if you wish."

Working your arm under your pillow and sinking further into the softness, you moan mildly as your drowsiness dares to pull you deeper into your sleep. "I would like that very much," you nearly whisper, holding his hand fondly.

Morpheus smiles warmly, pressing his lips to your shoulder once more and offering even more tenderness as he grants you more to your neck. You relish in his affection.

"Lay back, my love, and let me serve you." His voice echoes in your mind, and you mumble your response back to him as a sudden drowsiness holds you in its arms.

You whine meekly when he pulls his hand from yours in favor of roaming it over your body, smoothing his palm against your skin and teasing you with his long, slender fingers. His other hand snakes under your body and wraps around your chest, his fingers rolling your nipple between them and savoring your tiny moans. His touch remains gentle and slow as his other hand smooths along your waist and dips lower to tease your inner thigh.

You feel his fingers brush your folds, and your lips part as he parts your own and dips his finger inside of you. You take in a slow, deep breath, sighing on a tiny whimper. "Morpheus…" you mutter.

"Shh, my love." He presses his finger deeper, deeper. His voice washes over you like warm honey and velvet. "Just close your eyes and breathe and feel."

His voice eases you into that fluttering world between consciousness and unconsciousness. His finger sends goosebumps along your flesh, and your lips part as you feel the tiny sparks of pleasure dot your skin. He adds a finger, working them in a gentle thrust to coax the arousal from you.

He curls his fingers inside of you, a steady pace keeping you on the cusp of sleep while also delivering to you the pleasure you deserve. You moan lightly, and Morpheus’ voice finds you once more. “Let me love you,” he says. “Let me give to you what you wish, my darling.”

You mewl at his words, whining as you grind your hips back into him, though you’re not sure you moved much. You feel him growing hard against your thigh as he pulls you closer and continues to caress your breasts in his large hand. You whisper his name under your breath, clenching around his fingers as he presses them deep inside of you and curls them to massage that sweet spot inside of you that makes you gasp.

The room remains otherwise silent, save for your quiet sighs and whimpers, as he fingers you in your half-sleep. When you feel a knot building in your belly, you shift your hips back against your husband in a sudden search for relief.

His power over you, especially here as you dream with him now, is magnificent. He whispers in your ear, "Let go. Give yourself to me, my love." With a gasp and a shudder, you do exactly as he says. You grind your hips back against him as you let his power wash over you and take control.

He's thorough in making sure your pleasure lasts as long as it can, thrusting his fingers steadily into you, rubbing his thumb against your clit in a consistent circle to keep you wound and ready. And he speaks you through it with his soothing voice, gentle motivations and praises of, "That's it, my beautiful wife. You're doing so well…"

When you've properly come down, his voice comes again. "Would you like more, my dear?"

And you nod, your face still nestled in your pillow as your body settles even deeper into your dream-state. "Yes," you mumble, "please."

Morpheus smiles at his influence over you, holding you tighter as he entwines your bodies to wrap the both of you together. He spreads your thighs apart just enough to spread you open, taking himself in his hand and positioning himself at your fluttering folds.

"Are you ready, my sweetling?" he asks gently, kissing your neck tenderly. You nod again, humming as much of a yes as you could. With another kiss to your shoulder, he complies and begins to push himself inside of you, sheathing his cock into your warmth as a content sigh slips from the both of you.

"You feel magnificent, my darling," he says, pet name after pet name kissing your soul like a healing medicine.

He rocks his hips gently back and forth, his gentle thrusts filling you with his love without disturbing your sleepiness. It's a strange kind of feeling, to be so close to the edge of dreaming within dream but to feel so much pleasure keeping you just conscious enough to feel it almost tenfold. You clench around him as the drag of his cock massages the deepest part of you.

His name falls off your lips, almost like a prayer as he pleasures you on his own terms. Morpheus' eyes are shut and his hands are soothing over your body so slowly. He's lost in his own kind of ecstasy, his body tingling with the lust teeming within your own body.

You whimper again, moaning lightly and your bodies move together in a gentle, perfectly synchronized harmony. "M'love," you sigh. "So good."

He shushes you gently, sighing against your skin and kissing your shoulder once more. "Listen to my voice," he says, pulling you in with his compelling peace. His heart is so full with his love for you, you both lose yourself in it. "You are beautiful, my dear. You are radiant, you are lovely, and you are mine. I love you more than the stars could ever say."

You smile gently at his words, falling in love with him all over again as he rocks his hips in a steady motion with yours. You can't help but to grind your hips back against him, however lazy it is as your body seeks him out. "Oh, my love, you are perfect."

His skilled fingers find your clit once more, and he begins a steady pace over it. Your body shudders at the sensitivity, quickly giving in to his touch and letting his praise sink into your skin.

"Dream," you whimper. "'M so close."

"I know, my darling, I can feel it." His thrusts remain, taking the work in stride as he continues to give you what you need. "I can feel the way you tighten around me. I can hear your little breaths, feel the bumps on your skin…"

You whimper again, a little louder this time. The ecstasy is coursing through your veins, and you're so close to the edge of it all. "Please," you mutter.

He can't help the way his pace on your clit speeds up just a fraction, his grinding hips going a little deeper. He's always given you what you want, weak against your pleas and wanting nothing more than to make you happy.

"You are everything to me, my sweet heart," he sighs, his breath becoming more shallow with his own oncoming release.

It isn't long before the combination of his praise and his hips and fingers mix together and make you cum; a deep gasp filling your lungs, a helpless whine delving into little moans muffled in the expanse of your pillow, your thighs trembling with pleasure and still seeking more. "Mmm, Dream– Ah!"

Morpheus follows after, especially when you moan his name so prettily. How could he resist? He fills you to the brim with his love for you, a deep moan of his own slipping from his throat as he holds you closer as thrusts his hips into you through your orgasm. The power he continues to hold seeps into your flesh and bone and have you cumming so long, your entire body has no choice but to relish in the shuttering feeling as you continue to mewl and moan. Morpheus' hands on your skin and his lips kissing lovingly at your neck and shoulder make you weak.

Time stretches on as you slowly float down to the bed with a body heavy as a potato sack. You're so sleepy now, even more than before as the aftershocks of your pleasure still occasionally rattle through your body. Morpheus is right there to soothe your laziness. "You did beautifully, my love," he says, reluctantly pulling out of your warmth and admiring just how messy the both of you had become. "Do you feel better?"

If he wasn't in such perfect tune with your body, he would have missed the way you nodded. "Perfect…" you mutter.

He smiles. After a moment, you muster the strength to turn over onto your other side so you are facing your husband. You needn't open your eyes, you needn't say a word. You just turn yourself in his arms and press your body even closer to his own as he envelops your wordlessly into his embrace. He holds you as you silently praise him and his love for you.

He can tell you're about to sink into an even deeper sleep, the dream you're in being left behind for another (possibly even fonder) one—perhaps even one you could manage to open your heavy eyes in. Just as you're slipping away, his knuckles brushing your skin and his eyes watching your face, you mumble under your breath, "Love you…s'much."

He smiles fondly, a warm smile that would have made you cry, had you see it. He kisses your forehead and then gives into his desires to kiss your sweet lips, overjoyed when you manage to kiss him back. "I love you, too, my darling."

You both slip off together to meet again in a deeper realm of dreaming.

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[just-french-me-up]

If you'd still like Dreamling kiss prompts, how about 7 or 17?

@martybaker asked : Hello, your fics are so lovely! May I humbly request ‘A kiss to shut them up’ if you’re still taking prompts? 👉👈 @anonymous asked : Thoughts on dreamling 7 or 17 (to shut them up or to distract - maybe even both at once?) for the kiss prompts?

We're shutting him up, yall! This is a Retired!Dream one, in which Dream struggles with the human body and human condition, and can't see how he can measure up to his old self in Hob's eyes. Angsty you say? Deceivingly horny I raise you! I kept this sorta M rated but... hey if there's more to come *winkwink* who knows?

The human body was a curious thing. It required constant attention, fluids, fuel, maintenance, care. And yet it was so... limiting. Morpheus could still remember how it felt, to think of a place and feel the ground shift under his feet without ever having to move. There had been no hunger then. No thirst. No itching, for his skin had never had the notion that it could be too dry.

If he had ever felt those things, it had been because he had chosen to.

Now the world imposed itself to him, there wasn't much of a choice.

Urges baffled him the most. The dryness coating his mouth on a particularly hot day, his mind conjuring up images of cold, condensation-weeping bottles. The drowsiness taking hold of him after dinner, weighing on his eyelids. The burning, devouring heat flaring in his abdomen as Hob would step out of the shower, a towel lazily tied around his hips, the line of hair trailing down his navel guiding Morpheus' gaze downwards.

It was a strange thing, to be overcome by such sensations. An infuriating thing, really. He ought to be able to resist them. He had been able to resist them, once, to ignore them, dismiss them into nothing if he so chose. How vexing it was, to be a creature of wants and needs, when your existence had been nothing but careful control.

He would not tell Hob, but he could not help but feel... lesser. How clever could his mind be, now that he only had access to his own? How good could his hands be, he who had been able to breathe life into dream clay, fashion lands and castles with a single thought? How pleasing could his touch be, now that he was barred from his lover's unconscious? How could he compare to who and what he had been, once?

They had not made love ever since his encounter with the Kindly Ones. Hob had never pushed, reading Morpheus far better than Morpheus ever could, now. There had been times, here and there, when Morpheus had thought they would, with lingering kisses growing deeper, embraces in bed tighter, but something had held him back. Some bitter gnawing feeling at the pit of his stomach. Yet another thing he could not seem to control.

Yet he wanted. Desperately, frustratingly so. The most mundane things would strike him as the most erotic sights he could fathom. Hob drinking his coffee in the morning, his Adam's apple bobbing as he'd swallow. Hob reading the day's papers, his gaze intent, focused. Hob reaching up to grab this or that from a cupboard, his shirt riding up and showing his navel, while his tired pajama bottoms hung from his hips, revealing the slight dips there, a hint of hair...

Morpheus' body would betray him often, subjecting him to fantasies and erections that, much like the rest, he held little control over. Unlike food, lust was a hunger he never seemed to satisfy. It only grew.

If Hob had ever caught him staring, he never said anything. Instead, he was highly skilled at noticing when Morpheus' mind would start spinning on itself, feeding the loop of existential dread looming over him. He had taken to giving Morpheus tasks, then, something to focus on. Although it would not quite clear the storm, it muffled it somewhat.

Perhaps he'd sensed another one of Morpheus' spirals that night, when his voice rose from the bedroom.

"Oh, bollocks! Love? Might need a hand here."

As he stepped inside the bedroom, Morpheus found Hob standing by the mirror, struggling with his button-up. He flashed a quick contrite smile at him, emphatically tugging at the fabric.

"Can't manage to button those buggers off," he explained.

"Allow me."

The human condition was one thing, but buttons he could handle. Morpheus' touch was methodical, surgical almost, as he focused on the task at hand, yet three buttons later, he could not help but feel his focus slip. He could feel Hob's warmth under his fingertips. His heartbeat. As he breathed in, Hob's scent filled his lungs, distracting him further. By the time he was done with the shirt, his mind had gone elsewhere.

Hob wore an undershirt, a thin, almost see-through thing. It required barely any effort to see his chest in spite of the fabric. Morpheus' eyes trailed down, heat flushing his cheeks. Mindlessly, his thumb traced the line of hair down Hob's abdomen, his mouth filled with want. He could feel hot breath against his lips. Humans were not meant to withstand such hunger.

They were kissing before Morpheus could articulate another thought, Hob's mouth warm and soft against his, the coarse brush of his stubble adding fuel to the fire overtaking him. No doubt Hob had meant for this to be tender, but Morpheus was famished, taking, and taking, and taking all that was offered until his lungs might explode. He found himself gasping against Hob, nose to nose, forehead to forehead.

"Hey," Hob whispered, gentle to a fault. "It's okay. There's no rush."

Morpheus swallowed hard, feverishly catching his breath. Hob's palm was invitingly cool against his cheek.

"I will keep," he continued. "We don't have to―"

"I want to," Morpheus rasped, weeks of frustration pushing the words out of him. "I want you. I just―"

"Just what?"

The patience in his voice was the lifeline Morpheus held onto as he sighed, embarrassment flooding through him.

"This form, it feels... finite. Flawed. Lacking."

Fallible, he did not say. He watched as Hob's eyes grew round, ridicule joining embarrassment.

"Duck―"

"I am not as I once was," he continued, overcome with the need to justify himself. "I am no longer suited to anticipate your every want. I can not satisfy you to the degree I once could. Everything I have to offer is bound to disappoint in comparison."

Hob's stare felt heavy, too heavy for Morpheus to hold, but as he looked away, Hob took his chin between his fingers, directing his gaze back to him.

"Love, I―. Sex is not about making some kind of... of ranking."

"Your unconscious would rank it, regardless."

"Fuck my unconscious. It's my conscious self who wants you, magic dick or not."

The corners of Hob's mouth twitched at his own joke, but seriousness soon took over.

"I love you," he said, prompting Morpheus to look away again. "I love you. I would love you Endless, I would love you human, I would love you if you were a tentacled monster and hell, you've been that before if you'd recall!"

Morpheus fought back the smile creeping up on his lips.

"I never cared how we'd fuck. Well, I did, but― I did because it was you. I wanted to be with you. I still do."

Hob sighed, and they stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other.

"At least now we know that mind of yours is well and truly yours and not a Dream of the Endless exclusive."

"An unfortunate discovery."

Hob's hand settled on Morpheus' waist, his thumb brushing the fabric of his shirt.

"I do want you," he said. "Whenever you're ready. If ever. But I don't want you holding back because you've convinced yourself I may not enjoy it well enough, according to some cosmic standard you've set for yourself."

Morpheus nodded slowly, his own thumb back to tracing the happy trail on Hob's stomach.

"I have always found you pleasing enough, after all," he dared, shooting a tentative look at Hob. "As human as you are."

Hob made a face, pulling him closer by the waist.

"Your compliments need work, duck. But I do think there's a silver lining to this whole human condition you are overlooking."

"Is that so?"

Hob smirked at him, fully conscious of how devilishly handsome that made him. He had had, after all, centuries to hone those skills. How long would it take him?

"You no longer have access to my unconscious, right?"

"I do not."

"Which means you can no longer anticipate my every want, as you said."

Now that was rubbing salt into the wound.

"Yes," he conceded with a frown.

"Well imagine how arousing it is, my love," Hob said, his eyes darker by the second, "to be able to surprise you."

A warm shiver went down Morpheus' spine, sending his pulse into a frantic race. He swallowed thickly, holding Hob's gaze.

"How arousing?"

"Very. Cock-achingly, one might say."

Morpheus glanced down, finding Hob's trousers tight, his hard cock pressing against the fabric, making his knees weak. The human body truly was weak in the most delicious way.

"I could dare you to surprise me," he teased back, his breathing loud in his ears.

"You could."

Gods, that mouth of his, Morpheus was quite certain he could be undone from that tone alone. But still.

"But should you find me displeasing, you ought to―"

The rest of his words were swallowed into a kiss, unheard and discarded, replaced by tender sighs and wanting hands, and after a while, Morpheus found he'd forgotten what they even were, his mind blissfully blank save for pleasure.

The human body was a curious thing. A highly pleasing thing, at times.

Send me a kissing prompt?

[just-some-random-blogger]

hello, can i request

the reader is getting frustrated because she is having trouble coming, so she tries to fake it. Morpheus figures out what she's trying to do because he knows how her pussy feels when she's tight around him, so he gets mad and stops, leaving her wanting for the next few days....then when he finally gives in , is she sharpened all night as punishment? I hope this makes some kind of sense.

Good Thing

Dream of the Endless x Reader

Summary: Lord Morpheus does not appreciate you faking it and your sweet dream turns into a nightmare.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: fem!reader, petty!dream, MDNI, smut (pwp, free use, overstimulation, dom/sub dynamics, light sadism, vaginal penetration, edging, temperature play, cunninglingus), typos, etc.

A/N: this has been in my drafts for ages T_T me so sorry. but ya know nonnie, what was so wild, when you sent this i was reading an aemond targaryen fic with he exact same prompt i was sent into orbit Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

I squirm as I am hoisted on his lap. I feel Dream's hot breath on my neck. My flesh was spilling between his fingers as he kneaded them. My hands were shaking as they latched around his neck.

He felt good. He felt so good-- he really did. But I was exhausted.

Dream brushes his nose against me, palms by the curve of my hips as he maneuvered me in sync with his movements. He snapped into me with a need that could not be quelled. His thighs and abdomen were hot and sticky with my slick. My whole body was burning with sweat and remnants of the multiple orgasms he's left me, he's left in me. He mutters against my ear, his deep voice making my shaky one even more unstable, "one more, my love."

One more.

But see, he's been saying this for hours.

And when I say hours, I mean there's no sense of time in the Dreaming, and he's taken fuck me to oblivion way to fuckin' seriously. And yet -

"I assure you," he crooned as he clutched the back of my head when it got too heavy for me to keep up, "my sister will not touch you. I will not let her take what's mine. She will not come near you," he sucks on my skin, "not when I have you in such a servile state."

Fuck me.

And he did.

And he was.

Still is.

My head rested on his shoulder. My body jolted with each of his thrusts. I felt my eyes water all over again, and now even my mouth was crying. I dribble on his skin as I whine, "D-Dream."

"Shhh," he kisses my head, "let me relax," he holds me firm in my place, "we have an arrangement, don't we? You want me to do this, don't you?"

I whimper when his thumb rubs on my oversensitive nub, "p-please-"

"I know," he tuts, "I know," he purrs, claiming my mouth with his, "just one more. Can you not give your beloved king one more sweet orgasm? Don't you want me to relax, darling? You said you'd let me do anything I want-"

"Dream-"

He sits up straighter, "and I want to feel you take pleasure in my love making."

A tired cry leaves my mouth.

"I need you to feel how much I love you, my jewel," he licks my neck and nips on my skin, "one more time."

"B-but you've been s-saying that-- for hours," I feel tears streak my cheeks.

He nods and licks my tears, "I swear to you, my love," his fingers dig into my flesh, "one last rupture is all I will ask of you now."

"Promise?" I blurt desperately.

Dream peppers kisses on my neck, "you have my word."

And fair enough, fair enough, he did promise me relief after. The words of an Endless were not fickle and I should have trusted in him. I mean I did! I do! But my mortal body could only take so much and so, I did what I had to do.

I faked it.

I faked it and immediately he stopped.

Thank. Goodness.

At least... it was a thank goodness in that moment.

I caught my breath as I melted like putty on him, allowing my body to bathe in its exhaustion though I did not feel pleasure from the squirming show I just put on.

Dream's hold on me relaxes. His hands come to my thighs as he adjusted me on him.

"T-thank you," I mutter.

"What was that?"

I heave as I look at him, "I said t-"

"You did not finish," he cuts, one hand coming to my back to keep me in place as he pulled back to scowl at me.

My silence proved me guilty. My stutter decided my sentence.

Dream's nostril flare and his jaw hardens, "hmmm." He reaches out for my face and pushes back my sweat soaked hair, "did you think I would not realize?"

I squeak when he pulls me off him and sets me down on his side. I fidget as I feel the cushion of the bed on my swollen, dampened thighs. I reposition myself uncomfortably as he leans on his knees and sighs.

"Dream-"

"I will not forget this."

"... w-what?"

Dream turns to me, eyes darker than normal, face tense and clearly irritated, "you will learn not to resort to trickery with me, insolent girl."

Well, fuck. "My love-"

I don't get to speak as he stands and eyes me in disdain, "if you do not want me to touch you-"

"I didn't say I don't want you to touch-"

"-then I shall have my leave and keep my hands to myself."

I sigh in frustration as I watch him walk away from me. I crumble on the bed and slam my head on the sheets. I look up and see he's already by the door, his clothing already manifested on him, "Dream. Dream, please-"

Dream reaches for the knob and slams the door shut on his way out.

For the next week, the whole Dreaming would be walking on eggshells around their king and it was all my doing.

A harsh winter fell on the Dreaming. Everyone was fighting for their life in the cold and I could no longer let them suffer because of my unintended offence and his exaggerated pettiness.

I manage to get Mervyn make Dream go to the throne room.

The throne room echoes, "so, you've resorted to trickery once more, brat."

I turn over my shoulder and jolt when I see Dream already looming over me. I clutch my chest as I look up at him, "don't be ridiculous. Am I not guest who can ask for the attention of the king?"

"No," he rebuts.

The windows of the throne room begin to get battered by hail. I flinch when a large, icy stone breaks through the glass. I turn to the thing on the floor, back to the being that was the reason why there was an eternal frost, "Dream, please-"

"So, I do not please you?" his voice reverberates through my rib cage as his form is obscured and grows larger.

My heart races as I reach out and try to touch him. My hands go through his form and I whimper, "my love."

He growls.

I gasp when his icy hand takes my cheek.

"You have offended me beyond reparation."

I flinch at his touch. Cold begins to creep up on me. I bite back the quip lingering on my tongue. How dramatic of him.

I try to reach out to him again and this time, he lets me touch him. I feel something like shoulders and I pull on him, "puppy, please-"

"Do not insult me," he barks, face coming into view as he looks down on me, "I've had enough of you."

A shiver runs down my spine.

His hand dig into the roots of my hair. He pulls my locks back and tilts my head up, "so..." he inhales deeply, "how shall I get retribution? What will you to to appease me?"

My pulse quickens. I bite my lip, "anything."

He scoffs, "and have you trick me again?"

"I -" I shudder when he circles around me, "I promise I won't complain. I'll be a good girl."

"I do not believe you," he leans into my neck from behind, "insect."

Goosebumps form on my skin, "Dream-"

He places a hand on my mouth, "silence."

I squeal into his hand and do my best not to squirm at the ice cold of his palm now scouring my body. He breathes against my skin and I flinch at the cold.

"Oh," he mocks, hand coming off my mouth, "are you cold, my love?"

I suck in a sharp breath, "y-yes."

He hums and kisses my jaw. His lips are ice cold, "my poor girl."

I flinch when his hands trace upward underneath my shirt, "perhaps removing your clothes will help you," he pulls my top off, "don't you agree?"

I shiver and pant at the notion.

"Well?" he coaxes.

I find myself nodding, "y-yes."

Dream kisses my cheek repeatedly, "very good."

He turns me around and begins to strip me naked. I begin to shiver more violently when I'm left bare. I feel my nose begin to clog.

Fuck, I'm going to die.

"D-D-Dream," I shudder, "I'm fre-eezing."

He pulls me into his chest. He is an icicle. He caresses my cheeks, "shhh," he leans in and kisses me, "you're mine. Nothing else will touch you but me," he lifts me up, "isn't that right?"

"R-r-r-r-ight," I wrap my legs around him.

I let out a hiss when I am upon a cold surface. I realize then that I was sat on his throne.

I continue to shiver as he pulls away and looks down on me. He tilts his head as snow begins to powder the room, "you will not touch me," he bends down, "am I understood?"

I nod quickly as I watch him drop to his knees.

He sighs, steam wafting up from his lips, "good girl."

I hiss, nails digging into the armrest, when his suddenly hot fingers touch my shaking knees and part them, "sweet Mary- fuck-"

He snorts, steam coming out of his nostrils, "you will not say any other name but mine."

I pant heavily as he takes my legs and throw them over his shoulder. I whine and so badly want to grab at him when I feel how warm he is. I lean into him and cry out when his mouth connects with my freezing skin. My belly quakes for multiple reasons when his large hand rubs my skin. My nails scrape the wood on the armrest. I scream his name out helplessly.

He sighs in satisfaction. I hear him in my head: very good.

I screw my eyes shut and rut into him, "please let me touch you."

"Never," he rather instantaneously retorts.

It continues like this. I tremble at his ministrations while snow continues to build all over the throne room, save for the area around him.

"Fuck," I shake off snow from my shoulder. I flinch when I feel his tongue working on me. I could barely feel my fingers though my lower half was warm, "p-please, my hands-"

My cries fall deaf on his ears.

It continues like this up until my voice is hoarse and my calves are shaking at the feel of him eating me up.

"F-fu- D-Dream-"

"Mmm," he finally looks up at me, face wet with slick and saliva.

Fuck, I hate him but he was so pretty. "P-please- m-my hands," I shudder."

I could see the warmth radiating off him, "what of your hands, little bug?"

"T-they're so cold-"

I whimper when he takes my hands and places them on his cheeks, "better?"

I nod, "thank y-you."

Dream smiles softly, placing a burning kiss on the inside of my thigh, "good girl."

My belly spasms when I feel his hot breath on my core again, "tell me. Will my beautiful toy trick her master again?"

I let out a overwhelmed sound when he slowly sinks his teeth into my aching core. I arch my back and dig my fingers in his hair, pulling firmly. My toes curl as I whimper, "n-no."

He hums against me. It makes me squeal.

He takes my legs and pushes me back, hanging my legs on the armrest, "you swear it to me?"

I whimper when he pulls away from my thighs and rises to his feet to kiss me. I bring him close and relish the feel of his warmth, "yes," I sink my face into his neck and rub my cheek on his skin, "yes! I swear, I swear-"

"Mmm," he places his arms around me, "I believe you."

Dream rubs his hands down my shoulders then my thighs and pulls back.

I look up at him as snowflakes fall onto his hair and lashes. He smiles at me then rubs my cheek with his warm hand, "best find your clothes in the snow, my love. It would be unfortunate if you caught a cold."

"W-What?"

With that, he retreats and wraps his coat around himself.

I shiver and watch my breath condense in the air Dream walks off, treading easily through the snow.

When I realize what was happening, I curl into myself and feel my body shake. Was it the cold? Anger? Betrayal? Who knew.

"Come quick, pretty girl. I will prepare a cup of tea for you in the kitchen," he calls over his shoulder, licking his lips as he heads for the door.

I hiss when I attempt to step into the snow. I whimper and look up as I clutch my chest, "you're not seriously leaving me? Dream?! DREAM!"

[morpheusbaby3]

me trying to get into heaven:

god:

[roguelov]

Hi ! know that it's a pleasure to hang out on your account, so I was thinking of a human reader who is rather flirtatious and sassy who sees a morpheus lying on a sofa thinking, and to destabilize him she dares to straddle him by correctly aligning the private parts?!😧 playing the innocent🙄, what a shame to sit on a endless/the king of nightmares...

No because you just bluescreened the poor Endless

Poor Dream sitting there trying to read or maybe just wanting some peace and here you come to disturb it. And the second - the fucking second - you straddle him and sit down he freezes. He will glance down to where you are sitting in his lap, then look up to you seeing your smug face.

“What are you doing,” he asks.

“Sitting,” you reply with that devious smirk.

“Why on me?”

“Why not?”

There will be a lot of back and forth but when you grind your hips a little, just to tease him a bit, he clenches his jaw. He will sit up wrap an arm around your waist pressing you to his chest. His lips will brush pay your ear and in a low warning tone whisper, “You are playing a dangerous game, little one. I would suggest you to move before you regret it.”

And all you have to do is just say two little words and he’s all yours.

“Make me.”

[preciouslandmermaid]

quiet fury in your head [vii]

Dream of the Endless x F!Reader!Goddess / Sandman Fanfiction

Note: I wasn’t sure how Dream’s manifestation into the waking world worked like—is he always visible? Or does he pick and choose? So for the sake of a certain scene, I made it so both Dream and Reader are invisible to mortals. Anyway, You and Dream go into the mortal world.

No use of Y/N. See part 1 for all the tags tbh.

Warnings: This chapter has mentions of child abuse. There is nothing explicit described, but it is mentioned.

Rating: 18+

(Read on AO3)    ||   (masterpost for other chapters)  

You follow Dream across the pier. His request for your help in the mortal—the waking world—is odd. He’s never asked this of you before. But, you are bound to the Dream Lords will. Your skin prickles. Your heart feels tight. The longing you feel when he is distant has doubled—no, tripled—as you admire the straight and narrow line of his shoulders. He is often stiff. Sometimes you wonder if you dreamed your first kiss, if you imagined the way his soft lips moved over yours like shifting sand and how his pale, large hands cupped and clung to you.

He stops and extends that same, large hand to you. His fingers long and slender and elegant. A Dream-Weaver’s hand. You step forward and take it. The mounds of his palm fit perfectly within your own. His long fingers interlace yours. He steps off the pier with you in tow and the spinning that occurs is less dizzying than the pleasure of Dream’s touch. Do not let me go, you think as the whirls of color expand and spin, because I will give myself to this vortex and be done with it. The ache to be closer to him is an acute, masochistic agony. If I took other lovers, then I would not feel this way toward the Dream Lord, but—I don’t want anyone else. I want only him. But I doubt he will ever take me as a queen—as an equal—and I will accept nothing less.

The world manifests around you. The air is warm and balmy. Dream is slow to release your hand. He settles his Helm onto his head, hiding his unkempt dark hair and fathomless eyes from you. Your palm and fingers tingle from the lack and you miss the comforting pressure, the warmth of him. Yet pride stops you from reaching for him.

Remember your place here. You are his servant, he is your keeper, and no matter what desire burns inside you—the Dream Lord is to be your ruin. Remember who you are. Remember your sisters.

“This way,” Dream’s voice is strange from within his helm. It’s like flint scraping against stone. He leads you through the warm, crowded streets. A group of men pass you wearing uniforms and smoking rolled cigarettes.

You feel the war and conflict thrumming through the threads of the world. A long conflict, no less. Saliva pools inside your mouth when you inhale deeply. The knowledge drops into your mind like a stone (for even a Goddess without worship is given information). Your presence in the waking world has opened your mind to all the history and knowledge you’ve missed since being sequestered in the Dreaming. You understand all the language, the history, technology and culture in seconds.

You go within yourself. You peer through the layers of history, the shifting timelines, the strings of Fate. You see thousands of battles—old and new—flick through like the fast-flipped pages of a book. This war will last another ten years.

You sigh longingly. If only this war could be fought in your name. You would return to power. This is who you are. A Goddess of War. Desire said you were forgotten. But that didn’t mean your essence didn’t sing at the sight of battle. The large galley ships within the ports, the men in uniforms carrying guns, the cannons, the crates of supplies and gunpowder.

“We will wait here.” Dream stands off to the side of the busy street and you use this moment to scan the area. You peer over the shoulder of a boy selling papers. The year is 1805. Meaningless numbers to a God. But, you heart aches for your sisters and fellow Gods that have been lost for eons now. They pray to something else now…

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?” You ask. You lean your spine against the stone building behind you and fold your arms. The salty, bay air from the port floats between your legs and over your exposed arms.

“We’re waiting for someone…” Dream replies. You roll your eyes.

“Can I wait somewhere else?”

The ruby on Dream’s necklace glints in the hot sun when he turns toward you. The large, almost insect-inspired glass of his helm reflects your personage. You cannot see his eyes, but you feel them graze over your face, neck, and chest like the sharp ends of a thorn.

His voice rasps against your flushed skin, “I need you beside me.”

“To what end?” You challenge pushing from the wall and invading the Dream Lord’s personal space. You wish you could tear the helm from his head and stare him down properly. Morpheus does not flinch or step back at your approach. He stands, hands clasped behind his back, ruby and helm shining in the sun. Your impassive, imposing, and infuriating Dream Lord.

“I need you to incite a frenzy to draw out a nightmare that has escaped.”

Your face crumples, anger turning to disappointment, to shame. “I can’t.” The words taste like acid. “They leave no offerings to me, Morpheus. They do not sing. They do not memorize our stories. The powers I once had have weakened over time”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, “they have...nearly disappeared, in truth.”

Within the Dreaming, you can shape-shift, but you suspect the reason that power remained was because Badb gave it to you. It wasn’t connected to Desire’s gift. It wasn’t connected to the Mortals who once feared you. It wasn’t connected to your Dream-Weaving abilities that are trapped inside a ring that Morpheus wears on his pinkie finger. Dream’s silence stretches and chaffs like rough sand.

Maybe he will release me...now that I have no use to him.

He says slowly, “If I offer something to you,” He tilts his head, studying you through the dark lens of his helm, “will that be sufficient?”

You purse your lips. “You would need to do it properly.”

“Very well. What is it you would ask? If it is within my power, then I will give it.”

For a moment, your thoughts quiet and your heartbeat slows. You and Dream stand in a port city in Spain, heat and saltwater, the call of gulls and the rich, melodic Spanish language dancing through your eardrums. Something inside of you tightens like a winding spring. You think of your earlier desire—to remove his helm—to touch him. Desire once said to you: “Do as you desire, always. Forget honor, or cowardice, or shame. Become the envy of all other Gods.” You aren’t their champion anymore, but the truth they spoke lives inside your core.

You are Nemain of The Morrigan, the Goddess of war, and rage, fear, and destruction. You have lived powerless for too long. A shade of a woman. A wraith. A ghost. Not even powerful enough to call yourself a Banshee. Now, Dream is offering you a gift. Anything you desire so you can help him find his missing nightmare.

Yet, there is only one thing you desire right now—in this moment—beneath the hot Mediterranean sun.

“I would ask for a kiss, Dream.”

He lifts the helm from his head, his hair stuck in every direction like the ruffled feathers of a raven.

“That’s all?” He sounds dubious.

“Yes.”

You wait for him to reject you and ask for something else. Without the helm, you stare into his ageless face, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the universal depth of his eyes, and the soft pout of his lips. His stony expression reveals nothing. His thoughts and feelings remain a mystery to you. How infuriating...

Dream closes the small distance between your bodies. You inhale sharply. The dark, woolly fabric of his long coat brushes against your chest. His hand settles at the back of your warm neck. You crane upward to meet him. His face blocks the sun and the light is absorbed within the strands of his dark hair and forms a muted, yellow halo behind him. Your fingers clasp around the lapels of his coat for the sake of something to cling to.

“The incantation.” You remind him. Your words are a breathy whisper against his lips.

“I offer this to The Morrigan, Goddess of War and Rage, to the aspect known as Nemain of the three sisters. She who incites fear on the battlefield, whose scream foretells death, whose presence inspires courage to those who worship her.” His voice is husky, intimate, quiet for only you to hear—even though the mortals walking pass cannot see or hear you.

His long, pretty eyelashes slip closed as he inclines his head towards yours and your lips finally, blessedly meet. The lively sounds of the port become white noise in your ears. Dream’s kiss is intoxicating. You feel the burbling rush of power as it fills you like sweet rich chocolate. It feels like floating. The raw power is injected into your veins. Your heart pounds, your fingers tighten around his coat, and your mouth opens willingly to the gentle, probing touch of his tongue. You sigh into his mouth, winding your arms around the graceful curve of his bowed neck, and pressing your body flush and tight against his.Too long, too long...You lament. It has been too long since someone—a being of great power—gave anything to me.

Dream coaxes his tongue along yours in languid, teasing motions. What began as a simple offering, a mere singular kiss, has turned heady and intense. Your spine meets the sun-touched, warm stone of the building behind you. You drag your leg up, pressing your inner thigh against Dream’s hip, allowing yourself the pleasure and delight of feeling his body snug against yours. He holds your jaw, tender, your jugular exposed, and swallows the breathy, quiet moans that escape from the back of your throat. His obvious desire for you cannot be understated or imagined. He does want you.

But he will never take me as an equal. The thought is sobering and you drag your mouth away from his. Dream doesn’t move, nor does he break eye contact with you, and your bodies are pressed together as if bonded by melted wax.

His dark eyes roam your face, seeking answers to a question he hasn’t asked.

He releases his hold on your jaw and takes a pointed and deliberate step away. He returns his helm and indirectly (or perhaps directly you think) hides his face and expression from you.

“There,” He inclines his head toward of group of soldiers, “the nightmare had been following them.”

You square your shoulders. It’s time to get to work then.

The art of inciting fear is subtle like plucking the strings on a harp. You strum gently, your fingers are light, your brow is folded in concentration. Dream asked for frenzy. But there is more build up to it than one might. It’s akin to building a tower of cards. It requires a delicate hand as you follow the group of soldiers. Your concentration doesn’t waver…

Until you hear a familiar, bright voice.

“Stinky!” The child chastises and tugs on the leash of her white dog with crusty-gunk inside its eyes. You turn and face the child—I know you from the Dreaming, you think, and the little girl looks up toward you. She cannot see you. You know this. Yet, you stare into her innocent brown eyes and fear overtakes you. The memories and emotions are brief and fast like hard slaps across your face: Anger. A man’s voice screaming. His brown eyes brimming with rage. Shame. A broken vase with the porcelain pieces scattered across the floor like bone shards. Confusion. A dark place. Hunger. A dog’s paw scratching at the door. Fear.

Morpheus lightly touches your shoulder and draws you from the vortex of the girl’s memories.

“The child…” You wrestle the words from your throat, “her father harms her.”

“There is nothing we can do for her.” Dream says.

You look up at the Dream Lord, your expression and voice serious, and a simmering anger builds beneath your words. “You could send a nightmare to him. Scare him.”

“He would not change his ways.” Dream replies. “My nightmares are a reflection of the human condition. I give sleep, I give dreams and nightmares, and nothing more. I cannot interfere with the child’s fate.”

“Even if she called to you?” You ask hotly. “Left offerings and cried out for your aid?”

“I am not a God.”

You narrow your eyes and turn away from Dream. The little girl has scooped her grumpy-looking dog into her arms and is walking in the opposite direction of the soldiers you’re following. You clench your jaw and curl your fingers into fists at your sides.

The card tower falls.

A solider trips.

Their rifle misfires.

And the plaza erupts in a frenzy of alarm—fear that the enemy has crept up on them, fear that someone is hurt, fear that the bullet has hit them. You cannot even enjoy the sensation of terror. Your eyes linger down the street where the little girl went. You seek the knowledge within the fabric of the world and learn that the girl’s father is planning to get onto a boat soon.

If Dream won’t help her...there is no reason why I cannot.

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

“Dima,” You step through the cloudy mass of her homestead. “I have need of you.”

Dima places one hand over her heart and her blue skin crackles like lightening, “Anything.”

“I have need of a storm…”

Dima smiles widely and kneels upon one knee. “For you, I would conjure a hundred storms, my queen.”

You place your hand on her shoulder. It feels damp and tingles softly beneath your palm. Her loyalty is strong and welcome and you feel your lips twitch upward into the first smile in centuries.

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

You use your connection to the child to find her father within the Dreaming. The Dream manifests as a galley boat similar to the ones you saw within the Spanish port, but the father is not alone. Corinthian sits on the bowsprit, his legs dangling and staring out at the dark ocean below. Did Dream send a nightmare after all? You approach Corinthian slowly.

He looks over his shoulder toward you, “There’s a sight I rarely see.”

“You tend to make yourself sparse, Corinthian.”

“Can’t help it.” The saltwater sprays against his dark glasses, “I think I make the other dreams nervous.”

“As you should.” You lean your hands on the wet wooden railing, “it is in your nature to be discomforting.”

“The nature built into me by Dream.”

“Did Dream send you?”

“No.” Corinthian scoffs. “This one…” His gaze trails to the father pacing the main deck below and wringing his hands together. “His darkness calls to me. His desire for wealth, his hunger for power and control, his pleasure in…” Corinthian trails his dark and reflective gaze back to you, “causing pain.”

The power Dream gifted you bubbles beneath your skin. I have the strength to cause madness again...You will need that power to deal with this disgusting pest of a man. You will eradicate him. You will ensure the child is safe and free.

“I would like some time alone with him.”

Corinthian tucks his legs beneath him, raising to his full height, and balances on the long bowsprit with ease. His blonde hair tousles softly in the warm, salty wind and the flaps of his coat flutter. He slides his hands into his pockets.

“You can have him for a price, Queen of Nightmares.” He drawls, “And I’m sure you can already guess my terms.” He tilts his head. You recall your first meeting with Corinthian and his desire to escape the Dreaming. Even at your current strength, you are bound by your duty to Desire. You cannot leave even if you had the power to.

You glance at the man pacing the deck and your righteous anger pushes you to action.

“I am bound until Dream frees me as decreed by Desire, my Maker.” You explain calmly, “But once I am free – I will be free from everyone. Gods. Endless. Mortals. If you allow me to be alone with this wretched creature then I will owe you a favor.”

“A favor?”

“Anything you wish.” You say solemnly. “And if it is within my power then I will give it.”

Corinthian asks, “Even if I ask you to harm your precious Dream Lord to ensure my escape?”

You bow your head in the barest of nods. “Yes, Corinthian.”

He jumps from the bow onto the ship deck near the large wooden wheel. “It does not hurt to have an Old God in my pocket.” He grins, his smile lean and sharp and perfectly white. “Very well, you can have him.”

Corinthian vanishes. You are alone alongside the dreamer and a wave of nostalgia crashes over you. A dreamer trashing inside their bed wrecked with paranoia due to your influence as you desperately tried to save your family. You slink behind the man. He smells of booze and sweat. You place your hands delicately on his shoulders and bring your lips close to his ears.

“The ship is sinking…” You whisper, your voice low and almost seductive. “You must save yourself.” You weave your fingers around the man’s unease regarding the war and fill toxic paranoia into his nostrils. “The storm is too strong. You must jump now! You must swim to shore.” You hiss. Your voice melodic and guiding. The man’s heart echoes the thundering clouds above your heads.

“Hurry!”

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

In the mortal world, the ship known as “Indomptable” is taken by a storm conjured by Dima. Her anchor chains are broken and she drifts toward the offshore rocks. The man—the awful, coward—jumps from his bunk with the bite of his nightmares on his heels and throws himself from the ship.

The storm drags him deep, deep, deep.

His body is never recovered.

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

You lounge on the grass of Fiddler’s Green. The meadow is comforting, quiet, and calm. Your skin glistens with sweat from your exertion of using your powers on the mortal. A few colorful butterflies float over your head and you smile to yourself.

The child is safe. They can call me the protector of children now. The thought elicits a queer feeling in your chest. Something close to pride and excitement. This could be my calling once I leave the Dreaming. I can travel the mortal world and incite fear in those who harm others. I could make them regret ever abusing their power.

Your hand reaches up and plays with the sunbeams flowing like golden ichor through the clouds. For the first time since your sister’s deaths and Lugh’s betrayal, you feel a lightness inside your heart, a softness that did not—could not—exist before.

Dream’s thunderous voice cuts through the calm silence, “Morrigan.”

You sit up and brush the loose grass from your cloak. You peer up at him with a bewildered expression. Why has he come to find me now?

“What have you done?” He looms over you. The grass in the meadow sways away from his tall, imposing form.

Ah, he knows. You raise to your feet and regard him coolly. He cannot make a God, a Queen, bend no matter how much he huffs and puffs and glares.

“You could not intervene on the girl’s behalf.” You cross your arms, “But I could.”

“That is not your place.” He glowers, “And it was not my command.”

“I have my free will within the Dreaming, Morpheus.” You snap, anger rising to the surface, “I made the father pay for his transgressions.” You cannot hide the pride from your voice. You are proud of what you’ve done and Morpheus cannot take that from you.

“Your meddling has cost lives.” His voice is ice and you suppress a shiver. “As long as you are within the Dreaming, you are my responsibility and your actions reflect on me and all of the Dreaming’s inhabitants.”

“If you are seeking an apology, Dream Lord, I will not give it.” You lift your chin. “Regret does not eat my heart.”

“It will.” Dream replies cryptically, “when you learn what your actions have cost you.”

Your brows furrow. Morpheus lifts his pale, long-fingered hand and Fiddler’s Green vanishes from beneath your feet and the static taste of Dima’s home fills your mouth. Dima emerges from her hut at your arrival and her smile drops when she sees Morpheus alongside you.

“Dream Lord, what do I owe the pleasure?”

Morpheus’ gaze is hard and unyielding.

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

“You are hereby banished from the Dreaming, Dima Storm-Weaver.” He says coldly, “For your actions in interfering with the waking world at the request of someone who isn’t me.”

“Wait, Dream Lord, please!” Dima prostrates herself at his feet. “I’m sorry!” Her blue cheeks dampen with a sudden burst of tears. Your expression tightens into white-hot anger and you throw yourself in front of Dima. He would expect nothing less. Your loyalty is to be commended, but your actions do not move him. He must restore balance within the Dreaming. He cannot have his subjects bending their wills to your whims. Your gaze pins him.

And Dima succeeded where you could not. A small voice nags in the back of his mind. She had the power to help while you couldn’t. Dream forcefully pushes the thoughts aside. No. That is not the reason. He must keep control and balance within his own Realm. He can’t have you undermining him.

“If you wish to punish someone then punish me.” Your lips curl into a snarl. You are ever-so-ferocious.

Dream replies flatly, “Be grateful I am not extending your time in the Dreaming.”

“Grateful!?” You shout and lightening cracks through the clouds beneath your feet, “You ask for my gratitude when you would rip my only friend from me?”

“Perhaps you will make a different choice next time.” He tears his gaze away from your grief-stricken and rage-filled face.

“Dima.” He addresses the creature that embodies storms and rain. Dima is pure elemental force at her core. She looks up at him from her kneeling position and clasps her hands in front of her chest. Her chest cavity flashes rapidly like a heartbeat made of lightening.

“Your banishment begins now.”

“No!” You yell, throwing your arms around Dima’s shoulders, as if your physical touch could tie her to the Dreaming. “Punish me, Morpheus. Not her. She did nothing wrong but listen to me!”

********

Morpheus stares blankly at you. There is nothing of the man who kissed you and pressed your back against the warm, sun-soaked stone wall. You grit your teeth and dig your fingertips into Dima’s soft, blue-colored shoulders. Morpheus says nothing. The wind pulls at the coattails of his long, dark jacket and Dima fades beneath your fingers.

You fall forward on your knees onto the soft, white clouds and stare at the Dreaming world below. Your throat burns with a familiar, painful prickling sensation.

This is the cost of love...the cost of friendship...that it could be taken away. You blink back the tears and are adamant that Dream does not see you cry. You inhale through your nostrils and look up at him as static discharge dances across your skin and pulls small pieces of your hair.

Your voice is clear and sharp, like a silver blade running through someone’s rib cage, “Never speak to me again lest to release me from my wretched service to you.” Your words hang heavy in the air of Dima’s absence.

Dream inclines his head slightly and disappears in a gust of rain-dappled wind. You bow your head and scream into the clouds. The thunder muffles the noise, but the Dreaming trembles at the raw, painful sound of your grief.

[rosalinrabbit]

Wildflower, Wildfire

Over-Pollination part 2 / Blue Banisters Track List

Pairing: Morpheus x Nymph!Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Slight hurt w/ comfort, fluff and feelings, relationship doubts, pre-existing relationship, soul mates?, Morpheus likes to tease reader, smut, sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), praise kink, possessive sex, slight dom!Morpheus x sub!Reader, cum obsession, begging, breeding kink? Porn w some plot. 

Summary: Since Desire’s interference in your relationship with Morpheus, things have been going very well for the two of you. Yet you can’t deny the aching worry in your heart that you’d end up like his other lovers. When you begin to question your place in Dream’s realm, it appears that Desire is trying to interfere once more.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Continuation of Over-Pollination :> Also author makes up some bullshit about how the Dreaming works lol enjoy. Will cross-post to Ao3 later today.

SMUT 18+ / Minors DNI / You are in charge of your own media consumption. Please read responsibly.

Do not translate or re-upload any of my work. Works are only cross-posted on AO3.

< I’ll be like a wildflower

I live on sheer willpower

I’ll do my best never to turn into something

That burns, burns, burns… >

-Lana Del Rey, Wildflower, Wildfire

Entering through the back doors of the palace, you sighed, stretching your arms over your head. Your dress was unwrinkled and your feet, while bare, showed no signs of where you’d been, such was the magic of the Dreaming. You had spent most of the day in the gardens among the flowers, and while you greatly enjoyed the work, you always felt sleepy by the end of the day. Morpheus may not need to sleep, but you were not originally from the realm. Though not human, your body still required some sort of rest to maintain function. However, you never liked going to sleep without seeing your partner.

As Morpheus would likely be busy for a while longer, you made your way to the library, bare feet padding through the castle quietly until you arrived at the familiar door. You often came by at least once a day, picking up or dropping off books and chatting with Lucienne.

“Lucienne?” You called, voice traveling through the long halls with books from floor to ceiling. 

“Up here!” You heard her faint voice from above, and ascended the stairs to find her. When you finally found her, she was pulling books off a particular shelf into a stack on the floor, likely going through a certain topic and re-arranging.

“Do you need any help?” 

“No, no, my Lady, I’m quite alright. There is, in fact, a method to all of this.”

“I can well believe that,” you smiled. “And stop calling me ‘my lady!’ You know that is a title I do not possess.”

“Perhaps one day,” she smirked. “I know you are still worried that he is not sincere, but I promise you, it is different this time.”

“I hope you’re right. I just couldn’t bear for him to one day regret it, yet live amongst those in his realm that call me their lady. There have been others before me, there may be more after.”

As much as you loved Morpheus, and as much as he seemed to love you now, fear remained in your heart that you would be like the others. Even Queen Titania, who ruled over the fae and the nymphs, was rumored to have had a brief and tumultuous affair with the King of the Dreaming. And yet, people had begun to call you “my lady,” and as it went on, you started gently correcting them, not wanting to take a position that was not truly yours.

“I would never lie to you, y/n. If I say it is different, I mean it. For all of the loyalty I have to my King, I’d never see you hurt. If I had doubts, I’d tell you.”

“I know,” you assured her. “I trust you whole-heartedly, dear Lucienne.”

“I am glad you’re here, as there have been plenty of new books appearing in the non-fiction section regarding the effects of deforestation and pollution on the greater environment of the waking world. Seems like you’ve been making some progress.”

“I am just happy Morpheus lets me interfere in the dreams sometimes,” you laughed, elated that you were successful in turning attention towards mother earth. “It’s a slow process, influencing the waking world. Seeing any improvement is exciting.”

“Y/n!”  Matthew cawed from somewhere nearby, and as you and Lucienne looked up, you spotted the black raven hurling toward you. You quickly stepped to the side, and he crashed into the bookshelf next to Lucienne instead of you, causing the pile Lucienne had been making to fall. “Y/n- OW!”

“Matthew,” she scolded. “What have I told you about being careful in the library!”

“Sorry- sorry,” he spoke, shuttering slightly as he righted his wings. “It was an emergency! Morpheus wanted me to warn you that Desire has been spotted in the Dreaming. He has gone to look for them now!”

“Not again,” you sighed. While you didn’t harbor any ill-will towards the other Endless, you certainly did not appreciate being drugged without your will. You would think that would be a given, but even though Desire had successfully meddled in yours and Morpheus’s lives, you feared they wouldn’t stop while they were ahead. What’s to say they wouldn’t ruin your relationship as easily as they started it?

“Maybe you should leave the library, this is where they found you last time,” Lucienne suggested, sending you an apologetic glance.

“I’ll be in Morpheus’s solar,” you spoke, leaning down to pick up a book that had landed by your feet. “I doubt they could have gotten in there- right?”

“Unlikely?” Matthew gave what seemed to be a shrug, before flying over to you and resting on your shoulder. “I’ll come with you! If Desire causes trouble again for you, Lord Morpheus surely will never let me hear the end of it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes and gave a playful swat to the worried bird before bidding goodbye to Lucienne and heading back down the stairs of the library. The halls seemed quiet as usual, and you made it to Morpheus’s solar without trouble. Matthew left your shoulder and perched on one of the arm chairs by the fireplace as you closed the door.

Matthew would not sit still, hopping from chair to chair as you settled into a loveseat by the window, overlooking part of the gardens that you worked in nearly every day. He wasn’t in here often, usually if he did rest he went to his chambers which were connected by a short hallway between, but you wondered if he had ever spotted you working from the windows. Despite Matthew’s endless rattling on, you found your eyes growing tired, and slipping closed. You wouldn’t sleep, you told yourself, you tried to keep listening to the raven talking nearby.

You definitely had fallen asleep, and your only tell was how much the sound of the door opening startled you. Your head tilted up, and you saw a very distraught Morpheus in the doorway.

Matthew had squawked when the door slammed open as well, but was collecting himself. “My Lord! There you are! I watched over Y/n the whole time, Desire didn’t find her.”

Morpheus showed no indication of hearing what Matthew was telling him, for as soon as his dark eyes met yours, they were locked on you. 

“Matthew?” He eventually spoke, still not looking at the raven and keeping a quiet, even tone.

“Yes, sir?”

“Thank you. Now get out.” He ordered quietly, and Matthew immediately followed his command, probably just thankful not to have angered him.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, now that it was just the two of you. Morpheus calmly closed the door behind him, and you watched that calmness break as he strode over to you quickly, leaning down and kissing you hard.

You gasped at his sudden change in demeanor, and at the fervor with which he was kissing you. “Ah, Morpheus-”

He leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closing for a moment. “They really didn’t get to you?”

“No-no I feel fine,” and you gasped once again when the King of the Dreaming pulled you into his lap as he sat down. His arms wrapped around you tightly and as you shifted to put your head on his shoulder, you felt his arousal against the underside of your thigh. You froze, unsure if what had affected you the last time Desire came to visit had been given to your King.

“Did they-”

“They didn’t drug me,” he spoke softly, anticipating the question. He seemed very sure of this by the way he was looking at you, but you had to ask again.

“Are you sure? You’re- you seem worked up,” your voice trailed into a whisper as he set his hands on your hips and started grinding your ass against his hard length.

“I’m sure, but I need to be inside of you, my dear,” he murmured against your lips. He was riding up the skirt of your dress, eventually finding your underwear and ripping them clean off of you. He could have gotten rid of it with ease, but Morpheus always tended to enjoy ripping the clothes off of you more. It sent flutters through your stomach and heat directly to your core. 

“Get up for a moment, love.” You obeyed immediately. 

He pulled his hard cock from the confines of his pants, opting to leave his clothes, as well as your dress, on. Morpheus sat back down on the loveseat and leaned back slightly before reaching for your hips again, pulling you gently to straddle his lap. You were already wet from the way he had grinded you against him, so as he aligned himself with your entrance, he was able to slide in with ease, pulling you down so he could sink into you further. You let out a whimper as you were stretched open on his cock, filling you completely. It was still overwhelming, your eyes rolled back, no matter how many times he’d been inside of you it overwhelmed you. You were convinced it was just Morpheus himself, because truly, nothing else felt like him. Nothing else compared to how much the King of Dreams showed you he wanted you and showed you that you were, in fact, his.

As you tried to move your hips a little, his hands harshly gripped your hips, lifting you up before pulling you back down onto him.

“Ah!” you gasped, your legs struggling to match the pace he was setting you at. Riding him was something you rarely did unless the sex was on the gentler side, which was once again unusual for the two of you. But when you did ride him, he was still in charge of you, and you loved to have him remind you of that.

His hands roamed across your still-clothed body, ghosting over your breasts and squeezing your waist, until his hand was cupping your jaw, making you look him in the eyes. 

“Look at me, little one,” he spoke softly and evenly, as if he wasn’t currently all the way inside if you.

“Please, please touch me,” you begged, longing to feel his hands on your bare skin. The teasing was overwhelming, and you wanted nothing more than his touch. Even though he could have removed both of your clothing in a mere instant, he had left it all on.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he ordered. When you only whimpered in response, he pulled you flush to him, slowly grinding you on his cock and hitting spots deep inside of you. “Tell me who you belong to,” he said once again with a sharper tone.

“You! ‘M yours!” You stuttered as he was at just the right angle inside of you. He seemed satisfied with your answer as he brought up a hand behind your head and grabbed your hair, gently pulling your head back and exposing your neck fully to him. 

“That’s right, you’re mine. No one else can have you,” he growled and sucked marks into your neck. You clawed desperately at his shoulders, the pleasure in your core rising with every movement from him. 

“Take me,” you panted, desperate to have Morpheus fuck you the way only he could. “Please!”

“Cum for me first. I wanna see you come apart, my love,” he murmured into your ear, voice as sweet and dark as sin. He moved one hand to your waist, and the other pulled up your skirts to rub tight circles over your clit. You moved your hips against him, arms around his neck as you began riding him once more. “Good girl, keep going, fuck, I can feel how you’re tightening around my cock. No one else makes you this desperate, do they?”

“N-no, never, just you,” you whimpered, growing closer with each passing moment. His voice and his words kept pushing you nearer to the edge, you felt yourself getting warmer and your legs were shaking.

“Cum, cum for me,” he whispered in your ear, and it broke you. You felt the pressure in your core tighten and burst, sending waves of pleasure through your whole body, cunt spasming around his cock as you cried his name. Your legs became useless nearly the instant your orgasm hit, but Morpheus continued to thrust up into you, letting you ride it out and extending the pleasure further until you collapsed against his chest. “That’s it, good girl,” he praised, running a hand through your hair for a moment before fulfilling his promise to you.

He pulled you off of his cock and had you hips up and face-down into the couch cushion in seconds, causing you to cry out loudly at the overstimulation when he swiftly re-entered you in a single thrust. Your inner walls were sensitive, and as he began fucking into you at a brutal pace, you could barely form a single coherent thought. It was at least twenty full seconds until you realized that the room had gotten colder because Morpheus removed both of your clothing. You could do nothing but take what he was giving you, and as he continued to hit the spot inside of you that made you see stars, you felt yourself getting closer again.

His hands gripped your hips so deeply you knew there’d be marks to admire later, and as you glanced over your shoulder, you could see the intensity in his eyes. His lips curled when your eyes caught on his, and he leaned over you to grab you by your neck and pull you up so you were kneeling with your back flush against his chest, changing the angle. Your head was on his shoulder, and your cries mixed with the lewd sound of skin against skin.

“Who’s making you feel so good, hmm?”

“Y-you!”

“Say my name, little one.”

“Mor-Morpheus!” you cried as his hand found your clit once more, pushing you closer and closer.

“Yes, that’s right,” he groaned, movements becoming more erratic as he neared his end, too. “I’ve marked you all up, but I still have to claim your insides, my love. Have to fill you so much it starts dripping out of you- that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck,” you mewled, he knew those words would send you over the edge. The knowledge he was going to cum inside of you just to re-claim you as his had the cord inside of you snapping and your orgasm hit you like a wave, each of Morpheus’s thrusts sending you further into a state of bliss as you cried out, unable to even hold yourself up as you felt his cock twitch from the way your walls were squeezing him. “Cum in me, please, breed me, Morpheus,” you babbled out as your orgasm continued to wash over you.

“Good girl, asking so nicely for it, that’s my girl,” he moaned as his movements slowed. He was fully holding you against him as he reached his peak with a deep groan, pressing as far into you as he could and his cock releasing so much that you could feel it hitting deep inside of you and beginning to drip down his cock and out of your soaking entrance. He kissed your neck as you both came down from your highs.

You shuttered at the feeling of him dripping from you, and he carefully slipped out of you before gently setting you on your side on the couch. Your body was still twitching with aftershocks as he moved to push the cum that was leaking out of you back inside with his fingers, causing you to sigh with contentment.

“After all this time, you’re still obsessed with my cum, hm?” Morpheus hummed in amusement.

You giggled despite your exhausted state, swatting his hand away from your entrance. “Can’t help it. I know it isn’t gonna get me pregnant, it’s just the whole nymph and fertility thing…”

He smiled tenderly at you, placing a soft kiss to your lips before shifting to lay behind you, arms wrapping around your naked form on the plush couch. “I know. Besides, it drives me crazy hearing you beg.”

You hummed in response, his chest pressing against your back making you feel drowsy and safe.

“Are you really okay? What did Desire want, anyway?”

“I’m perfectly alright, it’s just that they are always looking to stir up trouble. I can’t believe Desire thinks they could come anywhere near you after last time. I was worried what I would do to them if they got to you again. But I did hear something interesting…” He pulled you even closer, speaking in that suave voice of his directly into your ear. “It seems that someone doesn’t want to be the Lady of the Dreaming.” His voice was low, and while he didn’t seem angry, you could not tell what he was feeling. “What do you have to say to that, little one?”

“I-” You began to speak, but you felt yourself blushing furiously when the words got stuck in your throat. “I- I didn’t want to take the title just because we’re together,” You confessed. “I know you’ve had other lovers in the past and those relationships didn’t turn out well, I don’t want to take a title that is not rightfully mine… It feels wrong to establish myself so firmly in this realm when we have only been together a short time.”

You craned your head to the side to look at him, and his eyes twinkled slightly in amusement, which confused you, as you were on the brink of tears. He lovingly brought a hand to cradle your cheek as he spoke to you.

“Little one, this is not the first time you’ve told me of your doubts, but I am surprised at this. You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“If people living beyond this castle have been calling you “my lady,” that is because it is your rightful title. Your rightful place. Destiny made certain of that, long ago.”

“But what does that mean?”

“It means that this realm and its inhabitants are not capable of recognizing someone as their Lady unless it was truly meant to be. While I had always hated Destiny’s interference in my realm, I see now that he has given me the greatest gift.” You were in disbelief, and you rolled over to face him on your side, looking for any signs of him joking. But Morpheus would never make a joke like this… No, he must be completely serious.

“What if- what if one day you no longer want me?”

“That day will never come, darling. Trust me, I’ve lived long enough to know. Even if I did not feel this way, Destiny is unchangeable. Even if you correct the townspeople and the visitors, they will still refer to you as the Lady of the Dreaming because it is ingrained into the fabric of this world. When you rejected it… well, that’s why Desire paid us a visit. They seemed to be worried that I wasn’t holding onto you quite tightly enough… I had to give them a very very firm reminder that you’re mine.” His hands wrapped around you tightly when he spoke, and you smiled, tucking your head into his neck. “I made a decision, quite some time before we met, that if I were ever to love again, it must be reserved for the right person. The way I felt for you, long before Desire interfered, it was indescribable. I waited so long to tell you because I was terrified knowing that if I had you, I would never be able to let you go. Desire could apparently feed off of that knowledge, off the desire I held for you, and got annoyed by it. That’s why they interfered.” 

Morpheus had never told you any of this before, and while you had never doubted his love for you, his admission pushed away all other doubts you had about the two of you. And about your place in the dreaming.

“I do feel like I belong here,” you whispered. “I just didn’t want to overstep.”

“The Dreaming is your home now, love. Will you take the position of Lady?”

You pulled your head back to look in his eyes, and a soft smile was on his lips.

“Morpheus… was that a proposal?” He shrugged.

“I suppose it was half of one.”

“Half a proposal?” you stifled a laugh.

“I would not propose to you in this state,” he chuckled. “No, not a real proposal. Though, it did kind of sound like one, didn’t it?”

“If I am the Lady of this realm, doesn’t that make me… your wife?”

His face broke into a grin at your question. “One day, yes. It doesn’t have to be now. Might as well have you get used to being called “Lady,” first,” he teased.

You smiled at him as you spoke. “Okay.”

“Yes?” you nodded in affirmation. “Would my Lady be so kind as to kiss me, then?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was teasing you, but you still obliged him, leaning your head up to meet his lips in a loving kiss.

As the Lord of the Dreaming stroked your hair and held you close as you drifted off to sleep, you felt completely sure that you were where you belonged.

[meiluu]

Welcome <3

My Masterlist

*just a little note I would like to thank you for stopping by and checking out my stories I hope you like them! and as I grow more confident with my writing I'll open up requests for some of the characters I'll be writing for*

{also don't be afraid to comment on my posts, I would love to interact with y'all. but don't feel pressured either, just a simple like really helps me in letting me know that you like my content.}

TWISTERS (Movie, 2024)

Tyler Owens

Dreamin' about cowboys: SMUT 18+, pregnant!reader imagine

DC

Bruce Wayne, Batman

Bats: FLUFF Bruce Wayne thoughts,imagine/drabble

SPIDER-MAN

Spider-Man 2099, Miguel O'Hara

Fangs: SMUT

Good girl: NSFW drabble

Soft Tunes: FLUFF drabble, Mermaid AU, Dad! Miguel

Spider-Man, Peter Parker

Merry Little Christmas: FLUFF, drabble

Fight Our Battles: FLUFF, ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, one-shot

Tis' The Season: SMUT 18+, one-shot

TWILIGHT

Edward Cullen

Edward Cullen's Mate: SMUT 18+, one-shot

FINAL FANTASY VII

Cloud Strife

Just a thought about Cloud Strife: SMUT 18+, drabble

Pillow Princess Cloud: SMUT 18+, drabble

Cloud?: SMUT 18+, ANGST, drabble

Everything and You: SMUT 18+, one-shot.

RESIDENT EVIL

Leon S. Kennedy

His Sanctuary: SMUT, post-re:4

Good Boy: SMUT re:2 drabble

NSFW alphabet: A-D, E-H, I-M,

Stress reliever: SMUT re:2 drabble

Stray: FLUFF, can be any leon past re:2

Infected: SMUT, post re:4 if Leon didn’t get cured of the plagas

Flour: SMUT, drabble

Sleepy: SMUT, one-shot, re:2

Heat: FLUFF drabble, any Leon past re2

Black veins: SMUT re:4 plagas!Leon

Halloween fun: SMUT, re:4 AU, oneshot

"Touch her, and I'll kill you.": SMUT re:4, plagas!Leon

THE SANDMAN (NETFLIX SHOW)

Morpheus a.k.a Dream

Dreamer Held Captive: one-shot of Morpheus saving you and bringing you to the dreaming.

Morpheus' Return: one-shot of when Morpheus returns to the dreaming.

Lover's Embrace: one-shot, you and Morpheus' journey of your pregnancy.

CALL OF DUTY (MODERN WAREFARE 2 [2022])

Simon Riley a.k.a Ghost

Comfort: one-shot, ghost helps you after a rough mission.

Let me protect you: pt.1 , pt.2 , SMUT in pt.2. a surprise confession opens the door to a new relationship.

MISC. WORKS

Ghostface: pt.1 ,

[darklinsblog]

Shaping a Dream | Sandman Imagine

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

Pairing: Morpheus x Dream!Reader

Requested: Yes

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course” Morpheus cleared his throat

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag list:

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

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin-r]

Morpheus confesses

Morpheus was in his throne room doing his best to fix the dreaming or at least that's what he told himself. In fact the dreaming had already been fixed; he was just busying himself from thinking.

About her. 

His human.

The one thing that was out of his control. 

She felt her heart racing as Morpheus moved his body against hers. His touch was gentle and passionate, a perfect mix of intensity and tenderness. He caressed her body, his hands exploring her curves as he moved in slow, sensuous circles. His touch sent electric shocks of pleasure through her body, igniting a spark of desire within her.

She moaned in pleasure as Morpheus's hands moved lower, exploring her most intimate of areas. He teased her with gentle strokes, his fingers tracing circles around her sweet spot. The pleasure built within her, and Y/N's breathing grew faster as Morpheus's touch intensified.

Suddenly it stopped. She was in bed, alone.

“What the absolute hell,” Y/n felt her thighs clench together, her breathing shallow and her legs felt numb.

“My apologies,” y/n’s neck snapped to find the dream lord at the door, closing it.

“What? I-”

“Ever since you came to the dreaming,” He paused as though weighing his words. “My powers have been a little out of my control,”

“Were you really here,” Was she really about to have sex with this man

“No, that was a shade or a dream figure if you will” he seemed to avoid her eyes as he spoke looking intently at the chair in the corner. 

“But it was…”

“Real as a dream can be, yes” His replies were short and curt. Although there was a subtle blush on his cheeks. “You are in the dreaming of course, again i apologies, I-"

"Is that why you've been ignoring me," it seemed as though he didn’t count on your question as he looked over at you or well in your direction but his eyes weren’t on you, the moon lighting up a part of his face. He was ethereal in every light. 

“Yes, it has.” You remained silent as he stood there. “Is that all of your questions,’ his voice soft and alluring. 

“I um, if my presence had been affecting you, why am I still here?” His eyes left yours as he contemplated the question. 

“I do not know,” He made no motion to sit down, he just stood there, “Do you wish to leave?”

“My answer depends on your comfort Morpheus, if you feel my presence is revolting-”

“But it is not,” He pauses again. “It’s like a breath of fresh air in a room filled with stale air,” 

“Then why won’t you look at me?” Morpheus glances at you and the light shade of pink on his face deepens

“Starlight, you are not decent,” you look in the mirror near your bed and you notice, your mess of hair, your nightgown, ridden up your thighs, the sheets a mess. 

“I do look quite a mess bu-”

“It’s not that you don’t look a mess, it’s that fact I’m not the one who messed you up,” a small gasp escaped your mouth. “I’m not the one who’s made you clench your legs, I’m not the one who made you-” he stops. “It was rather a mere shade.”

“Morpheus,” you whisper out. 

“Tell me to leave,” he says abruptly.

“What?”

“Tell me to leave, tell me to close the door on the way out,” Morpheus looks at the window. “Tell me you don’t want me to be here,” you don’t say anything as you get out of the bed. You don’t stop until you’re right in front of him. 

“Morpheus, I want you to stay,” you move closer as Morpheus moved back a step. 

“Starlight…” he hadn’t called her that in a long time. “I can’t”

“Why,”

“None of my past courtships have ever been successful, and I wish not to ruin what little we have,” 

“Morpheus,” You reached up and place your hand on his chest feeling his heartbeat. “For an endless you’re heart beats rather quickly,’

“Starlight I-” Want to see where this goes? Want to know whether you can actually stay or not, want to know whether I want to kiss you or not

“Can I kiss you,” his voice is down to a whisper. “Please,”

“I’d like that,” One of his rare smiles peak throught and he kiss you, it’s soft and slow. His hands snaked your waist bringing you in closer and holding you steady. 

“Can we do this for all eternity,”

“Yes”

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You Series Masterlist

26 Worlds, 26 ways of pleasure

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

MDNI - 18+! This entire series is explicit!

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

♡ Yours, Layla

Main Masterlist

⋆ ˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ☽ ◯ ☾ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖ ⋆

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

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

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

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

C for Cockwarming (18+): ~770 words

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

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

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

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

✧ Hell hath no pettiness like a woman ignored.

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

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

G for Grinding (18+): ~700 words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

M for Muzzle (18+)

N for Neighbor (18+)

O for Offerings (18+)

...

...

...

More to be added soon ❀❀❀

[ichorai]

wasteland, baby! ; morpheus.

track fourteen of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; morpheus x bast!reader (gender neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; morpheus followed you as if he were your shadow—silent, yet ever so loyal.

words ; 6.3k

themes ; angst, fluff, egyptian mythology, bast au

warnings / includes ; reader is based on the egyptian goddess bastet, starts before the events of the show but ends right at the beginning, heavy angst, death of an unborn baby (not reader's), blood/injury/pregnancy (again, not reader), allusions to sex, mentions of the other sandman characters, mentions of other egyptian gods, khonshu is your half-brother, dream is the epitome of (-_-), they love each other lots <3 perhaps i'll write a part two to this !!

main masterlist.

She was dying. 

There was raw terror within her eyes—uncertain of what was happening to her. She was young—far too young to die, but it seemed that Destiny had other plans for her beyond life.

With gentle movements, you shifted into view, greeting her with a soft beam and kind eyes. 

“Do not be afraid. I’ll protect you,” you whispered in their plucking human language. One of your hands extended towards hers, slick with her own blood. “It’s time, darling.”

The faded blue of her eyes warbled. A hot tear meandered down her grimy cheek. 

“Can I say goodbye? I… my children…” The words caught in her throat upon seeing your apologetic expression. With a resolute nod, she took your hand, and you helped her spirit onto her feet. 

Once she was up, she glanced at her physical body on the ground. “Can you keep my children away from the body? I don’t… I don’t want them to see me like that.”

A protest was on the tip of your tongue, but upon seeing her pleading expression, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. Your expression faltered, softening. “I’ll do what I can,” you reassured her, offering a small smile.

And as you guided the petrified woman’s spirit across the threshold between the realm of the living and the Sunless Lands, you let go of her hand, and she began walking into the next part of her journey. You observed for a minute longer, brow creased with worry. That had always been a weakness of yours—you cared too much for the mortals and often found yourself attached. Though, perhaps, affection was not a weakness, but a defining trait of who you were. It was what made you their protector, after all. 

The feeling of an unfamiliar presence appearing beside you jarred you out of your thoughts. You turned to see one of Death’s siblings staring straight at you, eyes boring into your very soul. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, rather bluntly. His voice was deep and honeyed, soaked in sea water and nestled within the richest of soils. You found yourself blanching at his sudden question, unsure if you’d done something to offend him. He certainly looked offended. Or perhaps that was just the way he always was. “This is Death’s job,” said Dream.

After a considerably long pause, you tilted your head at him. “Death is busy at the moment. I am merely helping her guide souls into the afterlife. I’m a God to them—a protector—the humans, they call me Bast. But my friends call me Y/N.”

Morpheus’ expression remained ever unchanging. He dipped his head, suddenly all the closer to you. You blinked at him with wide eyes—eyes that Morpheus refused to meet. Stoic, he spoke once more, “Do you know where my older sister is?”

“She’s dealing with affairs in Hell. Lucifer has stirred up quite a bit of trouble, I’ve heard,” you told him, pursing your lips at the thought of the devil wreaking havoc in the underworld. “What do you need her for? Perhaps I could help—?”

With naught a sound, Dream brandished a pouch from his dark, draping coat, and disappeared in a flurry of sand and dust. You stepped away with a grimace, waving the particulates away from your face.

“Rude,” you huffed as you brushed sand off your shoulder.

She was hurt. 

There was a long, jagged gash splitting her shin open. A pool of dark ichor formed around her leg and soaked into the hardened earth. You stood over her, your chest constricting.

She couldn’t see you, but you knelt down beside her anyways, murmuring a protective incantation, gently running your fingers over her wound. A soft golden glow appeared over the cut, before slowly disappearing. The injury wasn’t completely healed, but you’d made sure it wouldn’t get infected by warding away any diseases and bacteria. 

The woman wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and found a cloth to bind the gash shut.

You tilted your head, smiling down at her, before stepping away. 

This time, the presence of the Dream Lord wasn’t as much of a shock to you, but still a surprise nonetheless.

“Dream,” you greeted, eyes brightening when you turned to see him. He looked just the same, though not nearly as sour as last time. “What brings you here?”

“The girl you were helping,” he said, slow and cautious, “she’s been dreaming of you.”

Warmth seeped through your form at his words. A grin etched itself beautifully across your lips. “I’ve been watching over her since she was a young child. Her name is Nubia—gold in their language. She saved a family of kittens from drowning in a river when she was merely nine years of age. And me being a God of cats and all—she’s earned herself a special place in my heart. I don’t often show myself to mortals, but I have with her, on occasion.”

Morpheus regarded you with a shielded expression, but it was evident that he was curious in you and your endeavors.

“What do I do in her dreams?” you asked, stepping closer to him. Morpheus seemed unbothered by this, slowly tilting his head to sweep his gaze anywhere but you. 

Perhaps it was a trick of the hot Egyptian sunlight, but you could’ve sworn the beginnings of a smile traced over the corner of Morpheus’ mouth. “You do the very same in her dreams as you do in the living world. You help people. You are kind to them.”

Stunned, you let your eyes travel back to the sweet girl you’ve grown so fond of, who was rinsing the blood away from her leg. 

“Why?” asked the Dream Lord. It was a tentative question, so simple yet would never have a clear answer. 

You glanced back to him, finding his piercing blue irises fixed on you, hardened and stormy as the sea. 

“Why what?” you replied, knowing full and well what he was asking, but wanting to goad him on. You rather enjoyed speaking to him. He was a mystery to you—and you loved mysteries.

Dream was silent for a long moment. It had you briefly wondering if he’d just chosen to completely ignore your retaliating question.

Finally, he asked his in return, voice thick and viscous, as if his throat were laced with honey. “Why do you show the mortals such kindness?”

“Because I love them,” you told him simply, an elegant smile gracing your features. “They are beautiful beings, and I wish them nothing but happiness and peace. It brings me joy to be their protector.”

Morpheus didn’t seem too satisfied with your answer, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what you said. How could one as eternal and powerful as you love such simple and fleeting life? Despite his evident turmoil, he remained silent. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” you said, brushing past him with a hand on his shoulder. Morpheus stiffened beneath your touch, and you were quick to draw yourself away from him, not wanting to anger one of the Endless. Desire had once gotten angry with you centuries ago, and that hadn’t gone down well. The last thing you wanted was a repeat of such events. “I have other duties to attend to. I hope to see you again, Dream.”

Morpheus dipped his head in farewell. From your peripheral vision, you saw him disappear in another whirl of sand. You shook your head in amusement, before heading off to help another precious soul in need.

She was heartbroken. 

There were scalding tears dripping down her sunken cheeks, following the curve of her jaw, and falling from her chin onto her blanket. Sobs wracked her skeletal form, and there was a pallid color to her skin, as if completely drained of energy. You watched from beside her bed, feeling thorns crowd about your heart at the sight. You sensed great despair rolling off of her in large tidal waves, nearly overwhelming you into the same feeling. 

Morpheus was there, you knew, but you had yet to speak to him. He’d been following you for a while, silent as the night, merely watching as you went about your day helping women, children, and people alike. It seemed that he’d taken a keen interest in you and your duties as a protector of the mortals. 

“This is the doing of a man,” you said to him without turning around, anger clouding your expression. “She professed her love to him and he did nothing but scoff. He scoffed at her, Dream. I mean, look at her—she’s beautiful and she’s kind and she’s so very intelligent. Men certainly are the bane of my existence.”

When you finally turned your head, you were surprised to see Morpheus right beside you, not having registered him stepping closer. 

He had his eyes trained on the weeping woman. “She is tired,” he observed calmly. 

A soft sigh fell from your lips. “She hasn’t slept a wink in three days. The poor thing has been doing nothing but lament over this buffoon of a man. I’ve tried consoling her in many ways, but her grief is strong. She loved him very much—though I can’t quite understand why.”

“Perhaps,” said Morpheus, pulling out a pouch that you were now well acquainted with, “all she needs is a bit of rest. Three days is far too long for a mortal to go without slumber.”

With that, he blew a fistful of sand into the crying woman’s face, and her raucous sobs began to subside, and eventually slowed down to deep, rhythmic breathing. 

You looked to the Dream Lord, a grateful smile to your eyes. “Thank you.” As ever, he stared ahead and nodded, avoiding looking at you. 

With fleeting, soft touches, you gently shifted the woman so she wasn’t curled in an awkward position and wouldn’t wake up with aches all over. You laid her back against the bed’s springy mattress and adjusted her head onto the feather pillow. The pads of your thumbs gently wiped her tears away, and you murmured a quiet protective enchantment to keep her safe through the night.

“Come along now,” you told Morpheus, getting up and striding out the door.

He looked at you, finally, mild confusion painting over his features. 

“You’ve been following me all day,” you said, a laugh caught in the back of your throat. “I have much to show you.”

There was a twitch to his jaw, as if he wanted to say something. But still, he remained mute, before striding forward to join you by your side.

She was sick. 

There was an unusual murmur to her heart, disrupting an otherwise perfect beat. It broke your own to realize that Death would be coming to visit her soon. You could only hope that the journey to the Sunless Lands would be kind to her.

With little else you could do for the beautiful, sickly girl, you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushing a stray, wiry curl of hair away from her face, softened with sleep. Your kiss made her stop twitching and sweating so badly, and you were glad you could lessen her suffering in some way, even if it was minute.

You weren’t at all shocked to see Morpheus behind you when you turned, and you crossed your arms with a teasing grin. It’d been several decades—nearly a century—of constant visits from him, and you weren’t ashamed to say that you’d grown very fond of him. 

“Why, if it isn’t Dream of the Endless,” you greeted, taking a step closer to him, so that he was forced to look at you, and no longer avoid eye contact. The blue of his irises seemed even sharper up close. “Is there something you need this time, or are you here to follow me again?”

There was a crack to his stoic facade, a small smile whittling into his expression. A thrill spidered up your spine. 

“I’m intrigued by you,” he finally professed, albeit still guarded and wary, even after all this time.

Much to his surprise, you reacted fairly lightly to his statement, throwing your head back as peals of laughter fell from your lips, the corners of your eyes crinkling with mirth. “Dream of the Endless, intrigued in me? It’s truly an honor,” you said, slightly breathless. Morpheus carefully watched the way you beamed so wide it was a wonder your face didn’t split into two.

Dream hesitated for a moment before saying his next words. “Come with me.”

You faltered for a moment. “What? Where?”

“The Dreaming,” he said simply, as if it were obvious.

You blinked at him owlishly. “Your kingdom?”

“Yes,” he said, already drawing out his pouch of sand. “I’ve seen what you do on Earth. Now I want you to see what I do in my realm.”

“They’re beautiful,” you said, watching in awe as Morpheus fashioned dreams and nightmares out of thin air, brow creased ever so slightly in concentration. Bits of earth and bone and something far more ethereal floated around him as he assembled the pieces—creating an entirely new being. 

Dipping his head graciously, Morpheus stepped away from his craft, still in progress. 

“Come,” he said, without a glance to you. “I shall finish this later. I have much else to show you.”

He took you to see the House of Mystery, also known as Cain’s home. There was a sweet gargoyle there—Gregory, his name was, and he seemed rather fond of you, constantly nipping at your ankles and grunting in delight when you tossed a ball over for him to catch. Morpheus watched from afar, with only but a shadow of a fond smile gracing his face. He took you to the House of Secrets as well, and introduced you to Abel, who was ever so kind and refused to allow you to leave without drinking a fruity, nectarous tea first. 

The two of you strolled through the Dreaming for a while after that, discussing everything and anything that came to mind. More accurately, you’d be the one animatedly telling stories and Dream would listen with a fond glint to his gaze. Dreams and nightmares alike stared at the two of you, partially because they’d rarely ever seen their King out and about, much less with somebody, and also because they were merely curious to know who you were. 

After, he brought you to the library and introduced you to Lucienne and Mervyn—the former a spectacled librarian and the latter a pumpkin-headed janitor with a cigar wedged within his mouth, who both seemed pleasantly surprised to see Morpheus bring in a guest. 

“There will be a celebration in the Dreaming tonight,” said Dream, quiet and contemplative. Then, he looked at you, and this time, you were sure it wasn’t a trick of light—he smiled at you. It was small and fleeting, but you’d caught it nonetheless. “Seeing as Y/N is a God of celebration, joy, fire, and music—have all those ready for our guest, Mervyn.”

“Yessir,” the pumpkin coughed out a plume of smoke, before saluting with two gloved fingers, and strode away with his hands shoved into his overalls. 

Once Mervyn left in a hurry, you turned to Morpheus, eyes wide. “Dream, really, you don’t have to throw a party or anything for me, you’ve been more than kind enough—”

“I am merely repaying you for all you’ve done for mankind,” said the Endless, which made you step back just a bit in shock. “I must deal with some private matters—feel free to stay as long as you want—you are now a welcome guest in the Dreaming.”

“I… okay, thanks, Dream,” you said, trying your hardest to contain your excitement. 

He nodded, before turning on his heel and marching out of the library.

Shelving the books in her arms, Lucienne interrupted the silence with, “There hasn’t been a celebration in the Dreaming in centuries.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“None at all. In fact, this is the happiest I’ve seen him in quite a long time. You’ve really done a number on him,” said the librarian, regarding you with a curious look. 

“This is him happy?” you gasped, feeling bad for laughing slightly. “I wouldn’t want to see him angry, then.”

Lucienne scoffed at the thought. “Oh, I doubt it. He’s taken quite a liking to you.”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to reply with a coherent response, but found your tongue void of one. Morpheus liked you? All this time, you were only assuming that he was just tolerating you—interested, perhaps, at the very most. 

“Well, I’ll see you at the party, then,” said Lucienne, finding your stunned expression mildly amusing. She sent you a kind smile. “Let me know if you need assistance with anything.”

Not even three hours later, the castle was brilliantly lit with floating candles and dewy bubbles that emitted hazy, multi-hued light. There was upbeat music echoing throughout the expansive chambers, a rich accompaniment of wind instruments and chiming bells and thrumming beats of drums—though none of said instruments were anywhere to be found. Along with that, there was a large variety of snacks and nibbles arranged on a long, intricately designed table, including dates, cheese, and buttery pastries that practically melted in your mouth. Golden chalices overflowing with wines and honeyed ales alike were passed around like a contagious flu. The castle was packed, dreams and nightmares and gods (yes, even some that you recognized—Dionysus drunkenly greeted you with a hug and a slap to the back) were milling here and there chattering excitedly. From what you gathered whilst mingling with everybody else at the party, the entire ordeal was huge—evidently, Morpheus wasn’t quite the partying type. It came as a shock to everybody when they received prompt invitations to the castle. 

Speaking of which, you hadn’t seen him at all since the celebration commenced. Which was strange, considering he was the one that set it all up in the first place. 

“My, my, my, aren’t you a beauty? Have we not crossed paths just hours before, Lord Bastet?” a nightmare purred into your ear, roping you out of your thoughts. His name was Corinthian, one of the many that Morpheus had introduced to you on your little tour through his realm. You turned around, a flirtatious grin to your lips, hooded eyes flickering over to meet a pair of black shades. You were well aware that Morpheus would most definitely not be pleased with you seducing one of his nightmares, but he wasn’t even here at his own party, so you didn’t quite see a problem. “No wonder the Dream Lord’s gone full out—he’s aiming to win somebody over, ain’t he?”

A hum fell from you, and you stepped forward, cocking your head. “Do you always speak in questions, my sweet Nightmare?”

“Only works if you answer them, doesn't it?” he retorted, a handsome grin to his features. Corinthian was well aware that you were flirting around with him and had no issues with reciprocating the energy, but he also knew that it was all fun and games—nothing serious. Besides, he wasn’t particularly keen on getting in between whatever it is that Morpheus and you had going on. 

Rolling your eyes, you huffed, “Speaking of—do you know where he is? Don’t get me wrong, he’s thrown a splendid celebration—and this is coming from the God of celebrations—but I do have to admit that it puts a damper on the mood if the host himself doesn’t make an appearance.”

A laugh rolled off of Corinthian’s tongue. “Why don’t you turn around, darlin’?”

When you did, you were met with the sight of the Dream King, draped in his long coat, hair as scraggly as ever. He was watching the two of you with a sharp gaze, jaw squared. Though he let little slip past his guarded features, you were beginning to read him very well. He wasn’t angry, no—in fact, he was amused, but was furiously trying to hide it. “I’m pleased my presence matters so much to you, Y/N.”

You bit down on your lip to stave away your growing grin. “You’re late to the party.”

“I wanted to allow you space to enjoy it,” he graciously said. “The rest of my subjects would hardly speak to you freely if I was glued by your side.”

“True,” you admitted. “Though, I wouldn’t really mind being stuck to you.” 

Morpheus offered no reaction to your words, save for a glimmer of mirth behind the blue of his honed irises. 

“Were you waiting for me?” he asked quietly, barely audible over the raucous upswing of the celebration. 

Feeling bold tonight, you could only sidle closer to him, the cold golden jewelry of your party attire brushing against the very front lapels of his dark coat. Morpheus’ gaze flitted downward, soaking you in your entirety, before returning back to your face just as quickly. “You threw a party in my name and disappeared without a trace! Of course I was waiting for you, Dream.” 

For a moment, Dream had the gall to appear mildly apologetic. He didn’t seem to mind that you were much closer now, watching the way your searching eyes reflected the fires of the floating candles, like burning stars within the vast galaxy. “I am sorry for keeping you waiting, then.”

“Nothing a couple drinks can’t remedy,” you assured him, about to reach out to grasp his hand and pull him to a table of self-refilling refreshments, before hesitating and pulling your hand back.

Whistling loudly, Corinthian suddenly pulled both of your attentions away from each other. If you had to be completely honest, you’d nearly forgotten that he was there. In fact, you’d nearly forgotten there were hundreds of other beings in the room. He was grinning wolfishly, hands propped on his hips. “Well, aren’t you two a swell pair of lovebirds? It was lovely meeting you, eh, Bast? Take care of dear old Dream, will you?”

You waved him away with a grin before he sauntered off into the crowd, disappearing amongst a throng of boisterous dreams. 

The party had waned away to a couple of drunken gods (which took about a pond’s worth of fluid to get them to such a state) stumbling about in the halls, and a few straggling nightmares still trying to squeeze out the last remnants of the party. Everybody else had gone back to their respective homes or realms, exhausted and in need of a long rest. 

Much to your delight, Morpheus hadn’t left your side once the entire night. He stuck by you as if he were your shadow—silent, yet ever so loyal. However, you found that he’d been right—nearly all of his subjects that had initially been so friendly to you were now intimidated by their creator stonily staring them down. It was worth it, though. You liked Morpheus’ company, even if it was mostly silent and warded people away. Lucienne, however, practically immune to Morpheus’ temperament, spoke to you for a lengthy amount of time about the most interesting books she’s come across in her library, and you made her promise to lend copies to you whenever you returned for your next visit. Morpheus seemed to just barely smile when you mentioned that you were keen on returning to his realm.

You’ve spent far too much time away from the living realm, and you wanted to return back to your duties, you really did—but you were finding it hard to say goodbye to Dream. Especially when he was watching you with such attractive, hooded eyes. 

Had his eyes been like that the entire time, or was he just looking at you like that now that the two of you were alone, in front of his bedroom? How in the world did you get up here without realizing?

“What is it like? To have your subjects love you?” asked Morpheus, nearly startling you out of your dazed reverie. 

The question was an unexpected one, but you were quick to respond nonetheless. “It is perhaps the best part of serving them. I do not exist without them. I am nothing without them—and for that, I am grateful.”

Morpheus dipped his head, as if in thought.

“The humans have named you a God of many things, because they love you so,” he said. “Is it not tiring to juggle so many conflicting duties at once?”

“It’s not tiring at all. I like a bit of variety in my work. And I love them just as much for it, if not more—after all, I am a God of infatuation,” you replied, lips slanting up at him. 

Something changed within his scrutiny. It was minute, but you still noticed it. His jaw relaxed just a bit, and he angled his face to better look at you. Suddenly, your first few meetings where he had completely refused to meet your gaze whatsoever felt so very long ago. Not at all subtly, Morpheus’ stormy eyes glossed down to your lips, which were just slightly parted with want. 

Your breath hitched within your throat. 

Emboldened, you spoke again, voice an octave lower. “I am also a God of pleasure.” Ever so slowly, you reached out to graze your hand over his. His eyes remained on you, unblinking. When he didn’t jerk away, you threaded your warm fingers through his frigid ones. “Perhaps I can show you?”

There was a stormy grumble to Morpheus’ chest when his arm darted out to snake over your waist, pulling you close. He swallowed your pleased gasp when he sealed his lips over yours, noses bumping against one another amidst your vigor. Finally, finally, your hands reached up to bury within his unruly dark hair, sighing into him. There was a furiously desperate nature behind his touches, and you were nothing if not a match to his intensity. When you softly bit down on the bottom of his lip, a dangerous color melded over his features, and he made a suppressed noise of torment in the back of his throat, before kissing you again—harder this time. You most certainly didn’t mind. 

In tandem, you stepped back into his bedroom, and he kicked the door shut behind him. It closed so loudly, the very walls rattled—no doubt the entire castle had heard it. Neither of you seemed to care. 

She was screaming.

There was a long litany of crying pleas falling from her lips, hair plastered to her quickly paling skin with sweat. Tears rolled down her plump cheeks as she cradled her swollen stomach, where her unborn child was slowly dying within her.

She was losing her baby.

You were standing beside her, casting as many protective healing enchantments as fast as you possibly could, breathing labored. The very beginnings of panic seized your heart when none of it was enough. You weren’t enough.

“PLEASE!” she screamed her voice raw to any God that would listen to her. “PLEASE, HELP ME! I BEG YOU! I BEG YOU, PLEASE! I can’t lose them, I can’t lose my baby!”

“I’m trying,” you croaked, strained, even though she couldn’t hear or see you. You were trying—but it was too late. 

Death appeared in front of the bed, serenely calm, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You only shrugged her off, hurriedly casting more enchantments, more incantations, more protective shielding. You were a God of fertility, a protector of women and children—how could you let this happen?

“Y/N,” your old friend said, not unkindly. 

You ignored her.

“Y/N,” she repeated, a touch firmer. “You cannot bring back the dead.”

Another enchantment. Another incantation. Another spell. A scalding tear fell down your cheek. Your hands began to shake.

The child was still dead. The mother’s wails echoed shrill in your head.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccupped, your vision obscured with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

You didn’t even register when Dream gently pulled you away from the woman, so his sister had some space to properly do her job. Because you had failed at yours.

A sob thundered through you, shaking you to your very core. “I’m sorry,” you cried, turning away from the body. This wasn’t the first time you’d gone through this, but it only seemed to get more and more painful each time. 

Morpheus, grim-faced and solemn, brought you closer to him with soft touches, guiding your head to rest into the crook of his neck. You cried against his skin, fistfuls of his coat gathered tightly within your palms. He murmured a short sentence of comfort into your ear, but you didn’t quite catch what he was saying, ears filled with static. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated over and over again. Morpheus tenderly stroked the back of your head, falling silent, and tugged you all the closer to him. 

She was asleep. 

A man laid naked beside her, his arm thrown loosely over her waist as he snored so loud it was a wonder she didn’t jolt awake. 

With a beguiling smile, you looked over your shoulder to Morpheus expectantly. A miniscule glimmer of amusement warbled within his eyes, and with a flick of his fingers, the slumbering man’s arm fell away from the woman, and he turned over with a grumble, falling deeper into a dreamful sleep.

“Thank you,” you told him, affectionately grazing the tip of your nose to his cheek. “You should come along with me more often—it’s fun having an assistant to help me with my duties.”

“I’m only but a call away, my love,” replied the Endless, an unmistakably doting edge to his words. 

Your grin grew double its size. Morpheus slowly gestured to the sleeping couple with his head, reminding you of your duties.

“They’ve been trying to conceive for months,” you told him, waving your hand over the woman’s belly. A soft aureate glow touched the ends of your fingers, and fell to her in periodic droplets. “Today’s their lucky day.”

With a final protective casting, you stepped back, satisfied. 

“She won’t know she’s pregnant until two or three weeks’ time,” you said, making your way back to him across the room. “I’ll be back by then to make sure she’s doing alright—will you come with me, Morpheus?”

The Endless regarded you with a soft, fond gaze, one that was reserved for you, and only you. He gathered your hands within his.

You arched a brow when he didn’t answer your question. “Morpheus—?”

“Marry me,” he cut you off quietly, voice saturated with feather-silken endearment. 

There was a beat of shocked silence, and you had to pause for another two to make sure that he wasn’t jesting with you. Then again, Morpheus was never the kind to jest in the first place.

Then, your expression cracked into one of joy, positively radiant. The moonlight streaming through the window cast mellow shadows over the slopes of your features, shifting as you smiled ever so brilliantly. 

“On one condition,” you murmured, drawing yourself closer to him and dragging a glowing finger down his jaw. 

“Anything, my love,” whispered Morpheus, his lips but a hair’s breadth from yours.

“You must know that my duties to the mortals will always come first and foremost.”

The Endless dipped his head in understanding. “Every passing moment with you is only something to be all the more grateful for.”

“You certainly have a way with words, don’t you?” you whispered, amused. Morpheus stole your smile away with a kiss, indulgent in nature and devastatingly gentle.

Khonshu thought you were a fool. A mindless, bumbling fool. 

“You married Dream of the Endless?” your half-brother harrumphed. “What of your courtship with Ptah? He is in love with you, sibling-mine.”

At the mention of your previous lover, you bristled, glaring witheringly at his bird-skulled form. “That was centuries ago, Khonshu. Perhaps if you’d bothered to keep in touch, you would know that. Besides, Ptah is madly in love with Sekhmet, and she with him. I have no interest in rekindling whatever it is we had in the past. I love Morpheus, and that is that. Now I’m very much glad you didn’t bother showing up to our wedding.”

“There was a wedding?” he snarked, which made you square your jaw. 

The two of you had always had a love-hate relationship, as most siblings often did. 

“Even Anubis showed up,” you retorted, mind wandering back to your first love from long ago, and the awkward introduction between him and your husband. “Though, Morpheus wasn’t particularly happy about that.”

“Anubis has always been a sniveling, groveling simpleton,” your brother snidely remarked. “I am ever so busy, as you can see—I have no time for frivolous events such as weddings.”

Knowing it was pointless arguing with him, you simply blew out a sigh, and watched as he carefully shifted the moon into appearance amongst the stars of the night sky. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sharp, searing pain tore through your chest, and you let out a choked groan, falling to your knees at the sudden sensation. Khonshu’s large head rounded to look at you, a litany of sharp, berating words on the tip of his tongue, but he held them back upon seeing you on the ground. 

“Y/N?” he asked, deep voice bellowing. 

It felt as if a dozen knives were plunged within you, twisting, twisting, twisting—

Morpheus. 

You didn’t know what was going on, but something was happening to him. You could feel it. He was in danger. Panicked, you called for him in your thoughts, and received no response. With a trembling voice, you called for him out loud.

Nothing.

Khonshu was beside you by then, helping you up, asking you about a dozen impatient questions at once, but you had no time to answer any of them.

“I have to go,” you told him, before stepping away, determined to get back to the Dreaming to find your husband.

“Lucienne!” you called, running into the library after scouring the castle, finding it completely empty. The librarian looked up from her book, a smile on her face upon seeing you. It was quick to melt away when she noticed your terrified expression. “Where’s Morpheus? Where is he?”

She looked taken aback by your frantic nature, before she calmly replied, “I’m not quite sure, he was here recently—I thought he was with you?”

“So he’s not here?” you asked, breath hitching. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Lucienne, I have to find him. I’m afraid something’s happened to my husband!”

Concerned, she tilted her head. “What makes you think so?”

“I just—I felt this searing pain within me, and for a moment I could feel him, like I… I could feel his pain, as if it were mine—I felt his anguish. And then it was just gone.” 

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, I’m certain he’s perfectly fine,” Lucienne placated, a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We can wait until nightfall—Morpheus is sure to return from wherever he is by then.”

He didn’t return. 

Not at nightfall. 

Not the next day. Nor the next week, nor the month after that.

Not for years, not for decades.

The living realm was in shambles without him. Some went for days without sleep, collapsing only out of pure exhaustion, and others slept in a comatose state for weeks on end. 

Dreams and nightmares looked to you for guidance at first—but you weren’t equipped to rule an entire realm on your own, much less one that wasn’t yours to begin with. 

And not long after Dream’s disappearance, they began to leave the Dreaming, in search of something else. 

The kingdom was crumbling apart, and you tried your best to keep it together at first, you really did. But with so much of your time devoted to the living realm, you began to weaken, and you couldn’t uphold both strenuous duties at once. With time, the Dreaming began decaying and breaking down, until all that was left was ash and rubble.

Lucienne was one of the only ones that stayed in the broken realm, and it shattered your heart to see her so dejected, living amongst the ruins that she once called a home.

And what made it all worse was that you missed him. You missed your husband. His comforting presence, his smooth, melodic voice, his muted kindness, despite his cold exterior. You missed him, terribly so, and to see his world crumbling away filled the cracks within your chest with a thick, tar-like despair.

During your time in the living realm, when you weren’t helping out the frantic mortals, you spent your time scouring city to city, country to country, tribe to tribe—and nowhere was Morpheus to be found. You’d even gotten so desperate to ask your brother, Khonshu, to help, and he’d reluctantly agreed, using his poor sleep-deprived avatars to help search for him. Perhaps you didn’t search hard enough.

Or perhaps… perhaps he was simply gone. 

No. No, it just couldn’t be.

Morpheus wouldn’t up and disappear like that—he loved his subjects, his dreams, his nightmares, all of them—and he loved you, more than anything else. 

He wouldn’t do this to you on purpose, you knew that. He was somewhere out there, in the vast cosmos. 

And he needed your help. 

“I’ll find you, my dearest Dream,” you whispered, still trying ever so desperately to reach him through thought. “Wherever you are… wherever you’ve gone…”

I’ll find you.

[thepaintedlady00]

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

One tender smut piece coming right up my friend! 🥰

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

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

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

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

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

"You will never be as beautiful as them."

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

"He loved them more."

"You're holding him back."

"You will never be them."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Morpheus I'm-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Morpheus," you breathed out.

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

"What are you doing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I could," he admitted.

"But you won't?"

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

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

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

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

You nodded quickly. "Yes."

"Tell me, what thoughts have replaced them?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you."

"As I love you, dreamer."

[just-some-random-blogger]

The Dreaming Estate

Dream of the Endless x Gadling!Reader + Corinthian x Gadling!Reader

Summary: You inherit the Dreaming Estate from your recently deceased mother. She instructs you to perform a ritual for the house every month. One month, you fail to do so and receive a call from... The Dreaming Estate.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: alternate universe, fem!reader, mystery/thriller?/horror? themes, protectiveness, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: lmao if you like this thank @sloanexx for kinda pressuring me to finish this. cross-posted on ao3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @roguelov

12am. A full moon. The final day of the month. The phone begins to ring. Ring! Ring! Ring! No one answers. The ringing stops. It begins again. It rings until someone answers. You finally wake up. You roll over on the bed. Your lover clings onto you tighter. You grab your phone and answer the call from an unsaved contact, "hello?" His voice is deep and rich, "this is The Dreaming." It wakes you up, "w h a t ?" "This is The Dreaming." You pull your phone away. 12:05am. +1230XXXXX. "... who is this?" "The Dreaming." "The dreaming?" you sit up from the bed. "Yes." "What does that mea-" Goosebumps form when he calls your name, "Miss Gadling, you need to come home." "... who is this?" "The Dreaming." "As in the Dreaming Estate?" you sound panicked. "How are you calling me from the Dreaming? Who are you?" "I am The Dreaming." "..." "Come home."

"Baby, can you get me my coffee?" Cori points to the counter. I get his mug and the car keys, then hand him his drink.

"Thanks, sugar," he says, pulling his one earpod out as he turns from his laptop to me. He moves forward to give me a kiss and I knock the glasses off his face when I place my hand on his cheek.

I readjust his glasses as I pull away.

"Call me when you get there," Cori mutters as he turns back to his screen.

"I will," I head for the door and turn over my shoulder as I point, "make sure to take out the trash, okay?"

Cori puts the other earpod on and raises a thumb though he does not respond to me, "ah, yes, Mr. Takashi. We opened the branch in downtown New York about-"

The door closes.

I get to the parking and drive out of my apartment building, heading out of the city.

I grunt as I reach a red light, "fuck." This was going to be a long drive.

I can't fucking believe I was going to sacrifice my day off all because of that stupid prank call. I clench my jaw and turn to my bag in the passenger seat. I reach for the book in my bag, rubbing my finger on the browning pages.

It can't be because of this. And yet... I can't shake the feeling.

I drive when the light turns green.

"Relax," I mutter to myself, "the police didn't find anything," I take a left turn, "it was probably someone..." pulling a prank? But how did they get my number? How did they unlock the door? I swear I remember locking it when I left because my coat got stuck the last time.

"Fucking hell," I come to a halt when I am met with a bottle neck, "it's fucking Wednesday. Why is it so traffic?! Geez."

What if- I turn to the book in my bag again - it is because of this?

I take in a breath. Calm down. Forgetting to do the weird ritual last month has nothing to with this call.

And yet when I pull up to the Dreaming, parking just outside the gates, it's the first thing I want to do. I grip my handbag as I walk up the path to the front door. My phone was ringing Cori.

Though I knew the front door was open, I had the mansion's key in my hand. I turn the knob, finding it was, in fact, unlocked. I stuff my keys in my pocket.

Cori finally picks up, "hello?"

"I'm here at the estate," I retort as I step in. As nervous as I was to drive up here alone, I felt nothing while surveying the house. I didn't feel the creeps, didn't feel like an axe murderer was about to pop up. It just felt like home. After all, I grew up here. And although the land was large, it wasn't like I didn't have neighbors.

"Oh, that's good. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I walk into the grand foyer, looking at the large curved staircase that connected to the second floor landing. I look up at the high ceilings and the chandelier that cascaded down like shooting stars. I walk into the kitchen, "everything really just looks normal."

"Well, it better," Cori chuckles, "the police in the area better not play because all the residents there are rich fucking Karens."

I snort as I survey the marble counters and head for the fridge I knew was unplugged and empty. I open the door. Yep, still unplugged and empty. It would be funny had someone left a cake though... I think.

"I'm just gonna do the ritual and come back home."

"Okay, sugar. You still want to cook steak tonight? I can go to the supermarket to buy some stuff."

"Yeah," I place my bag on the counter, "can you buy some cake too?"

"The red velvet one from 15th?"

I look at the empty cake stand from across the room. Its glass was collecting dust, "no. Blueberry cheesecake. I'm feeling sentimental." My mom used to make the best blueberry cheesecake.

"Okay then. See you later, bunny."

"Mmm, bye. Love you."

"I love you too."

I huff as I place my phone down and pull out the book.

The voice of my mother rings in my head: We must love and protect the Dreaming because it loves and protects us. When a bunch of evil men tried to burn the house, Granny Lucy survived because the house saved her.

I clench my jaw as I flipped the pages. I huff as I get to the bookmarked page, "don't question it," I tell myself, "just- just- it's better not to be the one who breaks this weird generational chain-" I look around the room and find a chill run down my spine. I shake it off and look back at the page.

My thumb rubs the paper and my face tightens when I feel something wet on it. I smell my finger, "shit." My hand sanitizer got on the page.

"Fuck," I lean forward and try to wipe the paper. The ink smudges. "Fuuuuck."

I go through my bag but find no tissues. It's fine. It's fine. I kind of have the words memorized anyway. Let's just say this awful Latin hex-shit and be done with it. I take the book in my hand and read the words the way I always did.

For the most part, I don't need the book to know what to recite but then I reach the part where I smudged and, just my luck, I can't fucking remember what to say. I know I'm not supposed to stop- fuck- don't ask why, I'm just not- but a pit of dread bubbles in me over the idea of saying something wrong. I decide to omit the words that were smudged in the end.

I look around the kitchen when I finish.

I grab my bag and my book and check the other rooms.

I go to the living room, the washing room, the study, the library, the main bathroom, all five bedrooms, the garden backyard, the pool-- every place... but nothing. Nothing happened. The house was just the house. And, honestly, I felt nothing. Nothing felt out of the ordinary, so I go home.

Ring! Ring! Ring! Your eyes widen at the caller contact. "the dreaming guy". You instantly pick up, "hello?" "The incantation didn't work. I am still here." Your stomach drops, "what?" "Come home." You suck in a breath. He had to call during your lunch break. "I will wait for you in human form." Your heart drops. "What?" "I will wait for you to return to me in my human form." "..." "Unless the thought disturbs you." "..." "..." "..." "..." "... are you... Dream?" "I am." I shudder, "the Dreaming..." "I am also." Fuck.

I drive to the Dreaming Estate after work. I try calling Cori to tell him about it, but he didn't pick up. I don't blame him though. He was swamped at work. I mean I was too, which was why this was insane of me to do right now. I left him messages though. Hopefully, he'll call.

I pull up outside the gates again, but this time, I sit in the car, clenching the wheel. My body is unwilling to get out. Why? Because of him.

A dark figure walks over to me. He is tall, pale, and dark haired. My heart races as he nears. I check to see if my door is locked. It is.

As he gets closer and I can finally make out his face, I rack my brain, trying to think if I've seen him before. The longer I look, more I am convinced this is the first time I've seen him.

He stands in front of the gate; he opens it for me.

"Miss Gadling!" he calls, "would you like to drive inside?!""

That was definitely the caller.

I don't respond to him. I do nothing but stare at him.

"Will you stay in the car the whole time?!"

I stare at him for a moment. He stares right back at me. I undo my seatbelt and grab my bag. I peak my head out of the window. I don't know why, but I find myself asking, "what were the missing words in the ritual?!"

The man tilts his head. He leans on the metal grill. A wind blows his coat back, "in luce et tenebris!"

I pull out my book and look at the page. I examine the blotted area, "it does look like that."

"You cannot perform the incantation outside!" the man calls, "please, come in!"

My eyes dart up to him. I suck in a breath. This was probably the worst idea ever. I look at my phone. No calls or texts from Cori. I huff and step out of the car.

The man is pleased to see this.

I slowly walk over to him.

He smiles. It is warm. As I examine his expression, it feels free of malice. And though his aura did not feel eerie, I am skeptical of him.

He reaches a hand out to me, "would you like for me to carry your things?"

I clutch my bag to my chest as well as the book still in my hand, "I got it."

"Very well," he says, making way for me to enter.

I watch him as he closes the gate, I watch him as he motions to the front door, I watch him as he walks off first and leads me in, I watch as he opens the door to my home, I watch him as he peruses through like it was his.

"I apologize that was unable to prepare anything for you," he says.

I knit my brows, "what do you mean?"

"You have not stocked food in the kitchen. I was only able to gather some strawberries from the garden."

See, any sane person would have called the cops by now, if they had a moment of stupidity not to do it before arriving here. But the thing was, he took strawberries in the garden, which means he knew where the strawberries were. The strawberries were behind a hedge in the backyard; you would have to go over the hedge to see them.

"How do you know where the strawberries are?"

The man straightens, "I know where all things are in the estate."

"Pah. Everything?" I raise a brow.

"Everything," he nods.

I scoff, adjusting the straps of my bag on my shoulder, "then do you know where Grandpa Hob was buried?"

"He was not buried. His ashes were scattered in the garden."

My breath hitches. I take a step back.

The man merely looks at me.

He's- no... He must have... how could he have-

"Where is the garden gnome placed?" I find myself blurting.

"In the attic. Behind boxes."

I give him a look. Nah... he could have looked there. "What about my diary?"

"Which one?"

"What?"

"You have one diary stuck in the gutter by the pool, and you have one hidden in the floorboards in the bedroom that used to be yours."

My skin pricks with goosebumps. My heart is racing. I take more steps back. I gasp and jolt when the floor creeks.

"Please," he raises a hand, "do not be frightened. I know you and you know me," he steps forward, "I am the Dreaming."

"Stop!" I bark, raising a finger, "don't come any closer."

He stops.

I breathe heavily and bring the book to my hands, opening it. I look at the page where the ritual is. I begin to read it.

"It will not work."

I ignore him and continue to read.

"You spoke it once before. It will work only at the end of the month now."

I ignore him still and continue reading, making sure to add the part I was unable to say last time.

"Those were not the words."

"SHUT UP!" I snap and turn to him.

He stiffens and looks down, "apologies."

I huff and lean against the wall. The man looks up at me as I do this. I bring one hand behind me and use my nail to pick at the wall, "when I asked if you were Dream and you agreed, what were you agreeing to?"

The man fidgets then rolls his shoulders back, "this. My human form is Dream."

He even knew that. My uncles used to tell me that the house was sometimes a man called Dream. I take in his features, the curve of his nose, the gleam of his eyes. To be honest, I didn't know what Dream should look like, save for the fact he was apparently very strong. This man looked like a he could barely lift things with how scrawny he was.

"What does the ritual do?" I clutch the book in one arm.

"It binds my spirit to the house."

I give him a look, "so you're a spirit?"

"I am," he nods.

"So you're a ghost?"

"I am not. I am the Dreaming."

"But you said you were a spirit."

"I am the spirit of the Dreaming."

I straighten up and release a breath. I go through my bag and pull out a pen, "so if I do this," I chuck the pen at him, "it'll go through you-"

It his him on the cheek and he grunts. He rubs his cheek and gives me a look, "that was most disrespectful."

"... ... ... sorry."

Dream sighs, "all is well."

I chew on my lip and begin to pace around. My eyes never leave him once. His don't either. He watches me walk around him. He places his hands behind his back. I raise a brow, "why did you call me here then if I can't... bind you back?"

"You are my master," he tilts his head back, "my function is to serve you. I will fade if I have no function."

I stop in my tracks and furrow my brows, "what does that mean?"

"It means if my spirit fades and someone breaks in, nothing will stand in their way."

"So you saying you're the protector of the estate?"

"Indeed."

"I thought you were the estate?"

"Is it not instinctive to protect oneself?"

We stare at each other for a moment.

I am meant to question him some more, but then Dream turns around and looks outside of the window. He mutters lowly, "someone is trying to open the gate."

"What?" I run to the other window.

"He is calling your name."

I look outside and see the man, "it's Cori!"

Dream turns to me, "who?"

I turn to him, "did you lock the gate?"

"I am barring him out."

"What?!" I shake my head and make a face, "let him in!"

Dream furrows his brows at this. I give him a look. He relaxes his expression and sighs. I turn to the window when I hear the telltale creak of the gate. I then run out the door and meet Cori halfway.

The moment I'm close enough, I hug and kiss him.

Cori embraces and kisses me back. When he pulls away, he looks at me with worry, "I saw your texts. What happened? Did you call the police? Is someone-" he stops himself when he looks up.

I turn around and look where he was. There was Dream, staring back at us.

"Who the fuck is that?" Cori mutters as he grabs and pulls me behind him.

And I don't know why, I really don't know, but I retort, "he's the butler."

Cori turns to me, "what?"

I look at him, "turns out... we have a family butler and he-" I turn to Dream back to Cori, "-he's the one who called."

Cori shifts in his spot, "you mean he's the guy posing to be the fucking house?"

I shake my head, "no. It was a misunderstanding. I-"

"Greetings, sir."

The both of us turn to the dark haired man who was now in front of us. Cori raises a brow at him while looking him once over. He bows, eyes not leaving Cori as he does so, "I am Dream," he straightens up, "keeper of the estate, in servitude of Miss Gadling."

Cori chuckles, "Dream, huh? Funny you should say that," he extends a hand, "Corinthian Dream," he tilts a head towards me, "Miss Gadling's beau."

Dream stares at Cori's hand for a moment. He looks up at him when takes it, shaking it once before pulling away.

"Shall I prepare bedrooms for the two of you?" Dream asks, turning to me with a softer expression.

"Nah," Cori answers, "I just need you to explain this mess of a prank call and we'll be on our way," he places his hands in his pockets.

A dread builds in my stomach as I watch the two stare at each other. Dream's expression darkens. Cori's face hardens as he adjusts his shades.

Knowing him, I was getting nervous. "Cori," I tug at his arm.

He ignores me as Dream gives a pinched smile, "of course," he motions to the house, "shall we talk inside?"

Cori tilts his head and smirks, "sure thing, butler."