#morpheus/reader

[ohraicodoll]

Four Letter Word

Prompt: Declarations/“I really like you” Dream of the Endless/Reader (OFC)

Sometimes the feeling I felt for Dream was too big. Like when you’re a child and decide to put ten pieces of gum in your mouth just to see what would happen only for the mass to get too big and your jaw aches and you wonder if you’ll even be able to spit it out. That’s how it felt to look at him sometimes, to see that soft barely-there smile when he looked at me or when his hands would touch mine in the simplest caress. Too big but wanting to come out so badly. But fear and insecurity kept it tightly inside, lodged it in my mouth like too big bubblegum. So instead other words slid out along the seams.  

Laying across his bare chest, the air was filled with our scent and sweat dotted our bodies as they pressed together on his bed. I couldn’t help but look up at him, his bed-head and burning twin star eyes, and let the words slip out like smoke, “I really like you.” It was dumb. The words were so paltry and juvenile but holding the weight of every bit of my feelings for him. “I need you. I miss you when you’re gone. You’re beautiful. Your skin tastes of moonlight and I’ll never get enough. Please don’t leave me,” whispered underneath the small four word sentence. Like a child on a schoolyard professing her admiration for a boy who gave her a flower once and saying they like-liked them. Small, innocuous, easily spoken. It didn't get stuck like the other words. Those vibrant eyes that held worlds and galaxies and secrets my soul could barely fathom stared down at me, skin pale and made of magic and possibility, and his lips parted slightly almost in wonder as he whispered back, “And I you, little dreamer.” And so the words were spoken into being. A placeholder for this too big feeling that may have had another word for it but refused to dislodge from my throat. These new words seemed to come out so much easier, almost too easy, wanting to jump from my lips whenever possible as if they could brand his skin. 

We would be reading in his work area behind the throne, a small settee having been crafted if only so I could lean against him or lay my head in his lap while he researched through his books. It didn’t stop him from sometimes pulling me onto the throne with him though this was far more comfortable. His fingers would absentmindedly comb through my hair as his other flipped through pages, a small furrow in his brow and the colors from the stained glass shifting over his skin. He was breathtaking, the very embodiment of dreams, and utterly distracting. I could spend hours watching the subtle shifts in his face and the way his eyes traced the page like a finger along my body. All far more interesting than the book in my hands, never published from one of my favorite authors. And before I knew it the words, “I really like you” had slipped from my mouth like a prayer in the midst of an orgasm. Exalting and breathy, unbidden and wanting. Morpheus paused, eyes shifting from the page down to me, hands stilling. His cloak, always a living them, flickered around him in interest and the flames from its hem warmed me. Then he bent down and pressed his cool lips to my forehead, whispering back with the same reverence, “And I you.” There was never an explanation or further elaboration to explain what the words meant or their depths. He took them and the weight I seemed to put behind them and held them as if I were handing him my soul. Each and every time, the pause that would follow as if he had to process and appreciate them before handing his own back. An exchange of vulnerability. The tenors of that beating pledge we had made to each other was stitched underneath. Mine and yours became I really like you and though it felt less grand, less romantic than pledging to belong to one another completely and utterly, it was somehow more. We walked, hand in hand, through Fiddler’s Green and the blossoms would float along the wind as if to say hello from the Major Arcana that welcomed our presence. The flames danced along the bottom of his cloak and the blackness fluttered softly against my legs, wrapping around me as if he wanted every part of him to always be touching and pressed to my skin. 

The twin stars in the abyss of his eyes were warm and gentle in the soft sunlight he created for us and it was so easy to turn to him and say, “I really, really like you,” and release that build up of too much emotion. Like a valve letting off steam to keep from exploding. He paused, stars turning a soft maroon in his eyes, and pulled me to him. A hand cupped my cheek and the other wrapped around my waist to hold me as close to him as possible and I could only think how I never wanted to be without his touch for the rest of my life. How I couldn’t fathom knowing anything better than this. But then the King of Dreams would press his forehead to mine, breath coasting along my lips, and he’d whisper, “And I you, little dreamer.” When his lips touched mine it was fireworks and joy and I knew that really, there was no living truly without him and how could I ever think otherwise? I really like you was easy and enough to declare to him but was only a synonym for something more that terrified me. It choked in my throat and stuck between my lips like too much gum and threatened to destroy me with a single utterance. For what was a mortal girl to an Endless? How could I ever compare to the loves of his past that had pulled more from his lips? If I spoke those forbidden words, would I be found wanting and grasping for more than I deserved only to be left for my selfishness? How could I ever think that ‘like’ could be replaced by another four letter word? So I contented myself with what I could whisper to him and hoped it was enough. And in the moments at the end of my nights when I could feel the call of my physical body pulling me back to the Waking world, when I knew I would be pulled from him and most likely wake up alone in my bed, he would hold me tightly to him. In those moments, Morpheus would look at me as if I was his very salvation and it was so vibrant and bold that I couldn’t breathe. His lips would press against mine and it would be as if I was leaving for years instead of the hours that separated us, mouth hot and fingers tight. Those were the moments that if he asked, I may agree to stay there with him for eternity. And as he pulled back, the barest hint of that devastating smile of his a ghost along his lips, he would whisper to me, “I really like you, little dreamer.” In those moments the words would dislodge a little more, urging to break free. But I would only kiss him hard and desperate, letting him swallow my reply before I was pulled awake. Maybe in the future we would utter another four letter word. But like was enough for now.

[arlaina28]

Dream A Little Dream For Me Chapter 4

Fandom- The Sandman Relationship- Dream Of The Endless/ Female Reader Warnings- None Rated PG

CHAPTER 4

I don’t know how long I stay cooped up in my room but eventually I realise I have to get up. I go for a shower and when I walk back into my room, wrapped in a towel, I hear something by the door. I figure it must be Lucienne bringing more food so I open the door. I gasp and freeze as I see not Lucienne but Morpheus, putting a tray of food down on the floor by the door.

“What are you doing here?” I ask in a croaky, unused voice.

“Bringing you food. You need to eat.” He says softly, standing up straight.

“Why? Have you poisoned it?” I snap, frowning at him.

“Why would I do that?” He asks, frowning in confusion.

“Because you hate me and want rid of me.” I state, wrapping my arms around myself.

“You are the one who declared her hate for me, not the other way around.” He snaps, jaw clenching.

“I’m sorry for saying that, it’s not true. I was just upset.” I sigh, wincing as I remember my actions.

“You had no reason to be upset. I retrieved you.” He says softly, eyes roaming from my head to my toes.

“Yeah, after abandoning me in the middle of nowhere with nothing!” I cry, throwing my hands up in frustration.

“Don’t be so childish.” He sighs.

“Childish! Me?! I’m so sorry that I was chosen to be your soulmate! Do you think this is what I would have chosen?! To be stuck with some heartless, uncaring jerk that hates me?!” I shout, turning away from him.

 He reaches for me and accidentally grabs my towel, causing it to come undone and fall.  I yelp and try to cover myself with my hands. He stares at me, eyes darkening. Suddenly he steps close to me, cupping my face in his hands. His lips land on mine and I stiffen. After a few seconds I sink against him, opening my lips to his probing tongue. He hums as his tongue twirls against mine. I moan, hands moving to card through his hair. His hands wrap around my back, pulling me closer to him. I tug his hair and he growls into my mouth. His hands move to my hips and he lifts me slightly, carrying me towards my bed.

“Lord Morpheus?!” Matthew’s vices cries out from somewhere down the hall.

It breaks whatever spell we seem to be under and we pull apart, staring into each other’s eyes. I gasp as I find myself flung onto my bed as Morpheus turns and strides away, slamming my door behind him. I lay there, stunned, gasping for breath. I can still feel his hands and mouth on me. I reach up and touch my lips, shivering with arousal as I remember his kiss.

I get up and get dressed, deciding to find Morpheus so we can talk. I wander the halls, heading towards the library. I smile at Lucienne as I see her. I grin even more when I see my cat friend wandering away from her.

“You’re friends with the cat too?” I smile at Lucienne.

“Cat? That’s Lord Morpheus.” She frowns in confusion.

“What?!” I squeak, eyes widening in horror.

“Did you not know he can change his form?” She asks softly.

 “I’m going to kill him!” I snarl, storming off towards the direction he went.

I find him sitting on the steps leading to his throne.

“How could you?!” I shout at him.

Matthew squawks as I scare him and he falls from his perch on a shelf.

“Excuse me?” Morpheus asks, looking at me with a bemused look.

“You were the cat?! The one that has been sleeping in my room every night?! How could you do that?!” I scream, tears filling my eyes at his betrayal.

“It seemed to comfort you.” He frowns, looking confused.

“Oh, boss, no.” Matthew groans.

 “I can’t believe you did that?! That you betrayed me like that?!” I shout, tears running down my cheeks.

“Betrayed you?” Dream frowns, standing up and walking towards me.

“Yes! I thought that cat was a friend! That my secrets were safe with it!” I cry out, through a sob.

He tilts his head slightly, looking confused.

“I want to go home.” I gasp out through my tears.

“What?” He growls, eyes narrowing at me.

“Destiny said I didn’t have to be your soul mate if I didn’t want to be. Well, I want to go home. I don’t want to be with you.” I choke out.

“You cannot leave.” Morpheus snaps, looking furious.

“What is wrong with you?! You treat me as if you hate me! Then you abandon me in the waking world! Then you act like a sweet little cat friend! Then you kiss me and now you’re saying I can’t leave?! What do you want?!” I scream at him in complete frustration.

He just frowns at me without answering and I let out a frustrated growl, storming from the palace. I hear Matthew saying something to Dream but I don’t pay attention. I stride along the dreaming, not paying attention to where I’m going. I find myself in a little graveyard and a creature lands in front of me, a little baby creature.

“Goldie!” I hear a man calling.

The creature in front of me coos and lifts into the air with his little wings. I follow him and see him fly towards two men.

“Hello.” One of them says with a friendly smile.

“Who are you?” The other says with a suspicious frown.

“Hi. I’m…” I start.

“You’re Lord Morpheus’ Queen!” The friendly one cries happily, grabbing my hand and shaking it.

“Uh, I’m not a Queen.” I gasp but find myself smiling to him.

“Oh please, we all know how much you mean to him. I’m Abel and this is my brother Cain.” The friendly one says.

My jaw drops as I realise who they are but I find myself being led into their cottage. I spend hours there, laughing and chatting with the brothers and their gargoyle Goldie. When I head back to the palace, I’m feeling happier than I have in months. I ignore Morpheus as I walk past him, heading to my room but I feel his eyes on me the whole time.

“Do you still wish to return to the waking?” He calls after me.

“Nope. I made some friends.” I smile at him and continue on my way.

“Who?” He calls, walking after me.

“Why? Jealous?” I smirks at him, hearing Matthew choke on a laugh. Dream frowns as I walk away.

[pavlovianfuckery]

back on my bullshit

at least for a bit! finally finished this stupid thing, so here it is ig

[eelqueen]

too lazy to do whole posts for my fics -- but i’ve started a new dream/f reader fic!

heatwaves keep freakin’ me out on ao3

[stillinracooncity]

that feminine urge to read something that makes you cry, get angry, scream, laugh like a hormonal teenager, turn up the heat, feel like the most unique and beautiful human being on earth. *sighs*

[taisiabelle]

Therapist: Oh, you definitely have daddy issues

Me: no, I don't

Also, me hours later realizing all my favorite fictional characters are older man....

[attackurheart88]

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you really love me?”

“Yes.”

"Do you really really love me?”

They stop what they’re doing and turn to look at you. An audible sigh is heard.

“If I come over there and kiss you until your lips fall off will you shut up?”

[the-chamber-of-hoes]

Not pleased with the lack of new fics for my fav characters (hyper fixations) lately. The withdrawals are eating me alive

[lovernanaminn]

i hate mischaracterization except when it's with a character so cold and/or reserve in the og material that reading about them being extremely down bad for y/n in plain sight while all the other characters are their normal selfs so they are weird tf out by that demonstration of affection coming from them is satisfying, fills the hole inside of me fr

[hunny-beann]

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

Rest Now, Wife, Mine

Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

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

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

Thankfully, he is all too happy to oblige.

Warnings: None! Just pure and unbridled fluff :)

Word Count: 1,298

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a disastrous little thing she was, truly.

He could never love another.

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

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

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

"You are tired, my dear."

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

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head,

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

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

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

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

He frowned.

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

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

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

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

"You just what, dearest?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Poor thing,"

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

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

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

"Rest now, wife, mine."

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

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

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

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

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

ao3 link

[thoughtsfromlayla]

I'm Sick

Summary: Dream confesses something to you.

Notes: 200 words, scheduled post :P, thanks for the inspo @arunawayheart lol

Warnings/Tags: None, fluff, PININGGGGGGG, queued post

Main Masterlist | One Shot Masterlist

"I'm sick," Dream says randomly one afternoon when you visit him during a well-deserved nap.

You look at the Endless, your eyes scanning his figure from top to bottom. Can Endless get sick? He's sickly pale, that's for sure, but... isn't he always?

"No, you're not," You scoff only half sure of yourself. You return to the task that Lucienne had given you, pushing the leather spine of an old book back into place.

Dream stalks closer to you, turning you around to face him. His finger lifts at your chin and he gazes deep into your soul. "No," He reilliterates. "I'm sick of missing you."

You were too stunned to speak for a moment, your jaw slacking on his hooked finger.

"You see me every night, Dream Lord," You sigh, your eyes fluttering close as his thumb strokes the curve of your cheek. The books in your arms are long forgotten.

"The hours between are too vast," He confesses between the smell of leather books and ink. "Yet, I know dreamers cannot stay here, allow me to be selfish."

"I understand, Dream." You smile, your hands ghost over the one covering your face, interlacing your fingers with his.

"I'm sick of missing you."

[dragon-kazansky]

Heart of the Dreaming

Morpheus x Female Reader

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

☆☆☆

Chapter One - See you in my dreams

Chapter Two - Take my hand

Chapter Three - Mr Sandman

Chapter Four - Pocket full of sand

Chapter Five - What we are

Chapter Six - Blood and bonds

Chapter Seven - Burgess curse

Chapter Eight - Our purpose

Chapter Nine - Piece of me

Chapter Ten - Our two hearts

Chapter Eleven - Cracks in the glass

Chapter Twelve - Deep rooted nightmares

Chapter Thirteen - Make it count

Epilogue

☆☆☆

Queen of the Dreaming - Coming soon!!

[arlaina28]

Dream A Little Dream For Me Chapter 3

Fandom- The Sandman Relationship- Dream/Female Reader Rated- General Warning- Panic Attack

CHAPTER 3

I’m walking along the library isles, looking for a new book to read. I head towards the sounds of voices and find Morpheus talking to Lucienne.

“Are you sure you must go, My Lord?” Lucienne asks, sounding worried.

“You’re leaving?” I ask before I can think.

“Yes.” Morpheus states, barely glancing at me over his shoulder.

“Why?” I ask, walking up to him.

He frowns at me with his jaw clenched and I can tell he’s trying not to be mean.

“There is a rogue nightmare but I have already said there must be another way. Especially after the last time.” Lucienne tells me with a pointed look at Dream.

“I’m coming with you.” I state, looking at him.

“No.” He snaps at me.

“Yes.” I snap back at him, remembering how he suffered when he was captured before.

“I’ll be back soon.” He says to Lucienne.

He throws sand into the air and it begins to swirl around him. I act without thinking and grab his arm. Suddenly we’re in the waking world and I stumble.

“What did you do?” He snarls, grabbing my arm in a bruising grip.

“I told you I was coming with you.” I snap, wincing at his grip.

He releases me as if my arm burned him and looms over me. His eyes go black and I can see stars glowing in them.

“You are going back. Now.” He declares.

“Not without you.” I state, crossing my arms over my chest.

“The waking world is not safe.” He states softly.

“I know, I used to live in it! I am not letting you get caught again!” I shout, stepping up to him.

“I will not allow that to happen again!” He growls.

“Oh yeah, coz you managed to save yourself so well last time.” I reply sarcastically, rolling my eyes at him.

“I won’t risk you dying like Jessamy!” He snarls, grabbing my arms again.

We both freeze in shock at his words. I’m shocked that it makes it sound like he cares about me. He seems to be shocked that he said it at all. He pulls away and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was blushing slightly.

“Uh, guys? Hate to break the moment but the nightmare is running away.” Matthew says from atop a streetlight.

Dream swirls round and his power lashes out. The nightmare freezes and Morpheus pulls them in to his shadow where they disappear. He turns back to me, looking furious.

“Fine, if you wish to be in the waking world so much, stay here.” He hisses before vanishing.

“Dream!” I call out but he and Matthew are gone.

I look around, feeling abandoned. I wrap my arms around myself and begin to wander. I have no idea where in the world I am. I come across a store with TVs in the window and realise that I’ve been gone from the waking world for six months. Tears fill my eyes as I realise that my old life really is gone and now I’ve just been abandoned. My breath begins to come in short gasps and the world narrows down to a small tunnel of vision. What am I going to do? Where am I going to go?

“Are you okay?” I hear from behind me.

I turn and see a handsome man walking over to me, looking concerned. I shake my head, still unable to breathe properly. He comes closer and suddenly Matthew swoops down and slashes at him. A hand grabs my arm and I look up and gasp in relief as I see Morpheus there.

“She’s mine.” Dream states angrily.

The man opens his mouth but gets chased off by Matthew. The world swirls and suddenly we’re standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to Morpheus’ throne. I drop to my knees, sobbing harshly. Dream crouches down in front of me and I push him away from me.

“You left me! You left me there on my own, not knowing where I was! You just left me!” I shout at him, heart breaking at his callousness.

“I came back for you.” He frowns, moving closer to me again.

“Stay away from me! I hate you!” I scream, scrambling up and running to my room.

I collapse onto the bed and sob into the pillows. I hear Matthew tapping on my window, calling for me to let him in but I ignore him until he leaves. Eventually my tears dry up but I stay curled up there. I hear a scratch and meow at the door and open it to allow my cat friend in.

“Hey Kitty.” I sniffle, bending to lift him up in my arms.

He purrs as I carry him to the bed and curl up around him, cuddling him tightly.

“Why? Why does he hate me?” I whisper into the fur of the cat before sobbing again.

The cat stays with me for hours before wanting out again. Lucienne brings me food and leaves it outside the room as I refuse to let her in. I stay curled on my bed, losing track of the days. I refuse to eat and to let anyone into the room except the cat. The cat stays with me every night, purring as he curls into me.

[7-wonders]

Wishful Drinking

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

Summary: After Morpheus cruelly dismisses you, you decide that you'll get back at him by staying out of the Dreaming one night for as long as you can. What you don't anticipate is letting your feelings get the best of you and getting very drunk instead.

Or, drunk shenanigans galore!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: I don't know what this is, y'all. I haven't written anything in more than a month, and it was so tough to even write this, but I wanted to write SOMETHING. As always, hope you enjoyed, let me know your thoughts, and likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

ALSO! Dream logic applies here, in that you're still drunk when you reach the Dreaming.

Listen.

You know that certain coping mechanisms, like, say, going out clubbing with your friends and getting crazy drunk for the first time in a long time, aren’t exactly healthy. But things have been difficult for you lately! You’ve been struggling a lot, in both your professional and personal life. These hardships are only compounded by the fact that the one person (or person-shaped being) in your life that you thought you could count on, your Morpheus, has been too busy to have time for you.

Literally. He said those exact words to you a mere three days ago, when you had found him in his personal study (a study that he almost never used) after what felt like a day spent chasing him around the Dreaming. You meant for it to come out as teasing when you took note of the fact that you hardly saw him around lately and that it felt like he was purposefully avoiding you, but he had sighed and glared at you before saying, “I have much to do, and I am far too busy to entertain you right now.”

You glowered, but, as he said, he was too busy to see it. Fine, you thought as you turned around and stalked out of his study. Leave him to his business. 

Cut to today. When your friends asked if you wanted to go out with them, you almost said no, having gotten accustomed in the past couple of months to the routine of going to bed by nine o’clock in order to maximize time spent in your lover’s realm. But then, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you didn’t want to just continue sitting around in the Dreaming and hoping that Morphues would come out of whatever funk he was in. After all, why should you make an effort when he won’t? You’re not about to beg for his attention.

With that in mind, you texted back that you very much wanted to go out with them and proceeded to get ready for a fun night out.

The plan was to have a couple of drinks, dance for a bit, and stay out of the Dreaming just long enough to make Morpheus sweat a bit.

But then shots had been ordered.

And your friend bought you a drink because they knew you had had a tough week.

And you bought yourself two drinks.

And a group of guys bought you another round of shots, and though you all laughed at the fact that they were not getting anything out of this, you still took them because you weren’t about to turn down free alcohol.

This leads to you and your friends stumbling out of a bar at two in the morning, holding each other up as you do. Definitely not the plan, but what’s that one quote about plans and mice and men?

“What about a mouse?” your friend asks from beside you, making you realize that you said that out loud.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” you say.

Somehow, you make it into a Lyft (thank the gods for friends who don’t get carried away), and somehow, you make it into your home. Not without its difficulties–you dropped your keys multiple times on the walk to your front door, and there might be a you-shaped indent in the entryway wall from where you fell into it when trying to kick your shoes off. 

When you reach your bedroom, you decide that actually, the floor looks comfier than your bed does. You’re so drunk that the room feels like it’s spinning when you lay down, and you close your eyes to enjoy the ride.

“Fuck, I’m so drunk right now,” you say out loud, laughing at the sound of your slurred words.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, really. You know that you need to crawl to the bathroom to wash your face and find enough dexterity to change clothes before hopefully sobering up just enough that you can make it to the kitchen to grab painkillers and water for the inevitable killer hangover you’re going to have tomorrow. The floor is just so soft, though, and you work yourself into a trance-like state by staring up at the ceiling fan and watching it go around and around and around. On one blink, you’re staring at your ceiling.

And on the next, you’re staring at another ceiling, one that’s not really a ceiling at all, but an entire galaxy above your head.

It’s easy to get lost in the magnificent colors swirling above you (especially in your current state), and you do, until you hear someone calling your name. When you look away from the universe, you see the love of your life looking at you, though at present, he is not reciprocating the heart eyes that you are always looking at him with.

“Where have you been?” Morpheus demands.

“Morpheus, my love!” You throw your arms out and grin. “I’ve missed you.”

“Do you have any idea how worried I have been? I sent Matthew to find you hours ago when first you were late, only for him to report that he could not find you at your home.” You’re a little surprised that Matthew hadn’t managed to track you down; your little raven friend was almost scarily good at finding people/places/things.

“Aw, you’ve missed me?” It makes sense, of course; after all, you’ve missed him, so it’s only natural that he would miss you in return. Still, the sentiment makes you feel all warm and melty on the inside.

 It’s obvious to anybody who actually takes the time to know Morpheus—a tiny list of people and beings, two of whom are in the room with him right now—that he’s fighting a war between wanting to scold you and wanting to hold you and check you up and down for wounds. Morpheus crosses the room towards you, and you ready yourself for the inevitable lecture you’re about to get, about how you’re just a fragile little human and he worries every moment that you’re away from him (y’know, now that you have the clarity of a drunk person, you’re actually annoyed that this is constantly coming from the being that’s meant to be your lover).

But that’s not what happens.

Instead, you find his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in your neck. He’s hugging you, not the other way around. He’s never done such a thing before, and you don’t know how to react. What you do know is that any of the residual anger you had been feeling drains out of you like water from an unstoppered bathtub. You really didn’t think that being away for—the math isn’t mathing for you currently, and you don’t actually know how long it’s been—a couple of hours would affect him this much.

“You are the one most dear to my heart,” he mutters into your ear, cognizant of the fact that you are not alone in this throne room. “Of course, I missed you.”

“Oh. When you said you were ‘too busy to entertain’ me, I just kinda assumed you wouldn’t notice I was gone.” Though you don’t mean to weaponize your words, the poison darts make contact with their target anyway, and Morpheus stiffens in your hold.

“Are you alright?” he asks instead, choosing to wait until a later time to have this particular conversation.

“Aw, dream boy” you coo, snaking a hand up to clumsily run it through his hair. “I’m okay baby, swear it! Like, absolutely, one hundred percent fine.”

Morpheus pulls away from you so that he can look you up and down to confirm that you really are okay. “You smell like a pub,” he notes. 

“How can you tell that in the Dreaming?”

He ignores your question when a realization seems to hit him. “Are you inebriated?”

“No, I’m drunk,” you correct very matter-of-factly.

“That is–” he stops, choosing instead to just shake his head.

“Oh, dear,” Lucienne mutters from behind Morpheus, reminding you of her presence in the first place.

“Lucienne! Hi! How have you been!” 

You crane around Morpheus to be able to see your favorite librarian, but you almost fall over in the process. Before you can tip too far over, Morpheus is there to right you again. When he does, he looks down at you with quite the serious expression on his perfect face.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, ready to punish whoever put you in such a state.

“Vodka. Rum, maybe?” You think back on your drinks for the evening, though it’s hard to think back that far. “Yeah, the second round of shots was definitely rum.”

“You put yourself in this state?”

“Yes?” Has Morpheus never heard of the concept of going out and getting shitfaced with your pals? “To be fair, I didn’t think that my drunkenness would…” You search for the word that you want to use, but it’s just not coming to you! “Uh, carry over?”

“Please tell me you managed to make it home safely?”

You nod. “Sure did! Pretty sure I fell asleep on the floor, though.”

Lucienne slowly begins to back up towards the door, and Morpheus stares at you for a long moment before sighing heavily.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask nervously, starting to get upset the longer the silence drags on. Did you say something that you shouldn’t have? Is there a rule you don’t know about against sleeping on floors?

Instead of answering you, Morpheus waves a hand in the air and says, “This dream is over.” 

You’re awake and once again staring up at your ceiling fan, only this time, Morpheus is also in your line of sight. It’s impossible to stop yourself from touching him when you’re sober, so it’s not at all surprising that your hands go up to caress his face now when you’re drunk.

“Hi cutie,” you greet, laughing in delight when he flushes just the slightest amount.

He grabs your hands and kisses the back of both before setting them against your chest. “Why are you sleeping on your floor?”

“Because,” is your simple, childish reply.

“That is not a good answer.”

“It’s the one you get because it’s the one I have.” You throw in a peace sign to be extra spicy, but Morpheus, unfortunately, doesn’t comprehend your 21st-century humor, and instead just segues into the next order of business.

“Might I help you up, so that we can get you properly ready for bed?”

“But I’m comfy,” you groan. Morpheus is not buying what you’re selling, unfortunately, so you sigh. “Fine.”

Morpheus holds his hands out for you to take and helps you to your feet. Too fast, apparently, because the room begins to spin and your stomach tilts dangerously, making you clap a hand over your mouth.

“Oh no. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy,” you chant, squeezing your eyes shut and laying your head against Morpheus’s shoulder while you try to breathe through sudden nausea. You will not throw up on your super hot eldritch nightmare king boyfriend, you command yourself. Not tonight, and not ever.

“What is wrong?” Morpheus sounds panicked, and you want to reassure him, but you hold up a finger in the meantime.

When the nausea finally passes, you take a deep breath and slowly look up. “Okay, I think I’m good now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Sometimes drinking too much combined with moving too fast makes people feel sick. It’s my fault, but I’ll be okay.”

“Are you well enough to move?”

“Yes, I promise.” 

To prove your point, you let go of his hand and start walking heel to toe as the police require during field sobriety tests (honestly, you’re a little surprised that you can actually do this right now). You can practically feel your lover's amusement behind you, but it proves to him that you are capable. Morpheus lets you walk to the bathroom on your own power, and you think the only reason he doesn’t sweep you off your feet is because he’s worried you’ll throw up if he does. He watches you intently the entire time, though. 

You sit on the lip of the bathtub, watching Morpheus move about your bathroom as though he knows where everything is; he probably does, you realize, whether it be from that endless wealth of knowledge about everyone and everything that he possesses, or just his familiarity with your home. After rummaging around for a few moments, he comes back with a washcloth and your favorite pajamas. The sight of the familiar material makes you tear up, and you sniffle loudly.

Morpheus looks up in alarm. “Are you okay?”

“You remembered my favorite pajamas,” you say, trying to not start crying. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s come directly to see you off to his realm, and you’ve probably worn those pajamas twice. Yet he remembered the one-off comment you had made about how they were your favorite because of course he did.

His face softens. “Of course I did.”

You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. “Sorry. I’m okay! Just drunk.”

Morpheus hands you said pajamas before turning the faucet on and letting the water run. He seems to realize something after a moment and looks at you helplessly. “I do not feel temperature as you do. Is the water alright?” 

You grin and stick your hand under the faucet, moving the tap just a smidge hotter before nodding at him. “It’s good now. Thank you for asking.”

He begins to run the damp washcloth gently over your face, a barely-there smile appearing on his own when you wrinkle your nose at the cool sensations. Where this situation would be awkward with anybody else, it feels entirely natural with Morpheus. You’ll take these little moments of domesticity with him whenever you can get them, even when you’re still half drunk.

Even if you wanted to, you can’t hold yourself back from saying, “You’re so beautiful, do you know that? Seriously, you’re the prettiest man-slash-anthropomorphic-personification I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” The words are heavy on your tongue, but you’re pretty proud of the way you only barely stumble through ‘anthropomorphic’.

“You are still under the influence,” he notes.

“So? Drunk words equal sober thoughts, right?”

“‘A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.’ Jean-Jacques Rosseau,” he supplies.

“Sure, that. I’d tell you how pretty you are even if I was sober, and you know that.”

“Perhaps.” He says it in that infuriatingly sexy way of his, the one that makes you want to tear his clothes off.

Instead, you’re the one taking your own clothes off, though not for any fun reason. Getting changed is not as difficult a task as it would have been when you first arrived home, with the benefit of time naturally sobering one up on your side. Morpheus still keeps a hand held out, just in case you lose your balance and need something to grab onto, but after you’ve finished changing, that hand slips under your shirt and caresses your side.

“Thought you were supposed to be helping me keep my clothes on,” you say with a shiver, grabbing his wrist and pulling the offending extremity out from under your shirt.

“Apologies.” His tone implies that he’s not sorry at all, not that you would want him to be. “I simply couldn’t resist.”

He looks down at you with so much love in those blue eyes of his that you feel like you don’t think your mortal mind could ever truly comprehend it. Nobody has ever loved you the way that Morpheus has—all-consuming and passionate. He told you once that many of his relationships had ended because he had been seen as too intense, too obsessive in his love. Bring it on, you had told him when he expected you to back down. To date, you haven’t regretted that.

You don’t think you ever will.

Now that you can see the end of your night in sight, tiredness begins to seep into your bones. Though your bed is just right through the bathroom door, it feels miles away. With that in mind, you ask,  “Will you carry me?” 

“Were you not worried that you would feel sick?”

“Yeah, but I’m tired.” You pout (on purpose because you know what it does to him), and you can practically see his resolve break. “Just be careful?”

“Always,” he promises.

And careful he is, slowly picking you up and waiting until you nod to carry you to your bed. He sets you down gently, You’re thrilled to see a glass of water already waiting for you on your bedside table, Morpheus anticipating your needs before you’ve even realized you have them in the first place.

Crawling under the covers after finishing your water, you motion for Morpheus to sit next to you on the bed. He does as you ask, and you move your pillows so that you can sit up and lean on him. When you’re comfortable, you say, “Thank you for everything tonight. I know taking care of me wasn’t what you had planned.”

“You need not thank me. I enjoy caring for you, no matter the situation.” 

Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his hand carding through your hair, and you start to feel yourself inching closer to the Dreaming. Something keeps you from truly falling asleep, though, and when Morpheus shifts next to you, you realize what it is: the conversation’s not over. Morpheus is trying to figure out how to say what it is he wants to say.

Finally, he figures it out. “Might I ask you something?”

You open your eyes to give him your full attention and nod.

“Earlier, when you seemed surprised that I had noticed your absence. Did you do this,” ‘this’ being getting very drunk, “because of what I said?”

“No. I mean, I went out because I was mad at you, and I figured that me being a couple of hours late would make you learn your lesson, but I got drunk because I wanted to have fun with my friends and let loose.”

“And did you?”

“Maybe a little too much,” you admit cheekily.

“I apologize for my harsh words the other day. I have been…feeling burdened under the weight of my realm, and I took it out on you for no reason.”

“It’s okay, Morpheus. You’re busy running an entire realm and overseeing the collective unconscious. I shouldn’t be so needy.”

He shakes his head. “It is not okay. I should never talk to you in such a way, and you should never feel as though I do not want you around. I do want you around, always.”

“People say things that they don’t mean. That doesn’t mean they’re not worthy of forgiveness. But you gotta talk to me, okay? When you’re feeling stressed, or when things get to be too much. I’m here for you, and I want to support you however I can.”

“I love you,” he says. The fact that he’s being so open with his emotions is a pleasant surprise; it took him so long to be the first to say it, and even longer to be comfortable with it. You smile up at him.

“I love you, too. Stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

Morpheus turns your bedroom light off without you needing to ask (seriously, you love him so much), and you close your eyes. Then, a thought hits you.

“Hey,” you say, staring up at him in the dark and waiting until he looks at you to continue. “Can you get drunk?”

“No.”

“Why not? I mean, isn’t there special alcohol for preternatural beings? You’d think gods and goddesses would’ve figured out a way to get turnt by now.”

Though he doesn’t want to give in to your rambling when you’re meant to be trying to fall asleep, he can’t help but indulge you. “Gods and goddesses can. We, the Endless, cannot.”

“What? That’s so fucking lame. No. That’s–that’s an injustice! I’m so sorry.

“I promise, it is okay. Now, please go to sleep.”

You nod, but close your eyes for maybe thirty seconds before they snap open again with a realization. “Wait.”

“What?”

“You mentioned other gods and goddesses. How many are there? Are they all real? Is actual God real? I mean, I know the devil is real, you kicked their ass for your helm, but for some reason that’s more believable than–”

“Go. To. Sleep,” Morpheus commands.

“Ugh, you’re no fun!”

“I am not afraid to use my sand if need be.”

“You wouldn’t.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and he raises one right back. After a brief stalemate, you’re the first to give in. “You have to understand how world-altering this information is to a regular human like me, I mean–”

You’re asleep before your head hits the pillow.

[roguelov]

Imagine sitting on Morpheus’ lap while he is sitting on his throne reading a book🤭

It’s the best spot in all of the Dreaming 🫠

He will pull you close to his chest, slowly wrapping an arm around you as his lips brush past your ear. He will gently murmur the words in your ear which try to lull you to sleep. And when you fully relax into him he has this soft smile.

‘Sleep, my dear,’ he whispers

If you try to protest that you want to be awake and spend time with him, he will place a few kisses on your neck and side of your head.

‘We are spending time together, now rest I can feel how exhausted you are’

He will cradle you as you sleep soundly in his lap.

Now if you stay awake, you may crane your head to look at him just to admire and be in awe that he’s in your life. He will give you a sly smile already knowing what you are thinking about because he is thinking the same

‘Yes?’ He hums

‘Nothing,’ you rest your head on his shoulder. ‘Keep reading’

‘As you wish’ he says as kisses your temple

[stillinracooncity]

here, waiting for updates on the 999 fanfics I follow without thinking that people have to socialize, study, work, eat, go to the bathroom and sleep.