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thoughtsfromlayla · 1 day

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A Pirate Quest For Me (Part One)

Moodboard created by: @dragon-kazansky

Summary: Despite the "Kraken incident" you're back on your feet for a new adventure and rare treasure. The inconspicuous map calls for three items: a mermaid's tear, a bottle of lightning, and a dream crystal.

Notes: ~4.5k words, not edited/beta-read *squints as I read the script* Why am I in this story? Wait is this play about us???

Warnings/Tags: Merman! Dream, chaotic bisexual disaster pirate reader, Dream's terrible at communicating (nothing's new), some angst, *squints as I read the script further* I did what?

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The thick jungles of the Caribbean make it hard for you to read your map. You turn the old parchment one way and then the other as you try to make heads and tails of it all. Pulling out your compass you watch the needle point north, but is this north on the map? You scratch at your head, your head is still captain-hat-less after the whole Kraken debacle last month.

Ugh, why didn’t you bring your cartographer with you? Probably because she’d rather die than set foot in a jungle. And you respect that, at this point, you’re debating running for the high seas and never setting foot back in here again as well.

There are rarely any stinging bugs on a ship after all.

But the enticement of rare treasure is too much to ignore. The map was found in some empty barrel in Tortuga and promised the finder of treasure adventures for a lifetime. And, well, how can you pass up that?

The map calls for three items: a mermaid’s tear, a bottle of lightning, and a dream crystal. You have no idea which items you are currently hunting, but you follow the map loyally anyway.

Your long knife cuts through the brushes easily as you determinedly continue on your journey. The sweat you’ve accumulated is slick on the back of your neck. Eventually, you find yourself standing on the shores of a lagoon. You release a sigh of relief and plunge your hands into the waters, cooling yourself as you splash it against your face and neck.

A strong gust of wind blows your map into the water and you sigh. Why must nothing ever go to plan? You slowly wade into the waters, watching the fish dart away from your boots. Your map keeps drifting away as you make your way towards it.

When you finally get your hands on it, frowning at the smudging ink, a sound that’s not natural to the lagoon life around it catches your attention. The sound was definitely human: a soft humming of a lullaby came from somewhere in the lagoon. You looked around but there was nothing but blue waters and high mountains.

You wade your way back out of the lagoon, following onshore towards the sound of the humming. Eventually, you make it to a secluded place with a small waterfall, and after pushing aside a few long leaves, your breath stills as you look at the creature before you.

Her hair and tail were as blue as the lagoon, washing her hair in the cold waterfall that fed into the lagoon. Her ear fins shimmer in the low sun and twitch whenever water enters them. Her tail swings back and forth to the beat of her lullaby as she perches on the stone. The effervescent scales on her arms and torso give her a soft look as they reflect the fleeting sunlight.

You take a step forward and accidentally step on a twig. The sound is enough for the mermaid to turn her head towards you with a surprised look. She finds you easily behind the tree and her humming stops. She stops as fear takes over her body and stays still in shock.

“Hi, my name is Captain Fortune. I don’t want to harm you…” You start and slowly make your way towards her. Your hands are raised with the promise of peace.

Her eyes dart around your body and after landing on the pistol that was secured to your hip, she hisses at you and dives back into the waters. You see her blue tail splash the water into your face as she swims deeper into the cave connected to the lagoon. A few fish friends followed her in her actions.

You sigh and berate yourself for scaring her off. The sun dips behind the horizon and light leaves in the wake of night. You get to work, finding dry twigs to make a small campfire. It’s a miracle you were able to find a mermaid so soon, but it would be hard to get a tear from her no less.

Under moonlight and crackling flames, you entertain yourself by slowly singing some shanties to yourself. A small fish you managed to catch was roasting slowly over the flame, the scales chars against the heat. You’ve shed down to your shirt and pants, even decided to take off your boots and discard them off to the side with the rest of your objects.

“You… sing pretty,” A voice stops you.

You squint as you look towards the voice, and surprise takes over your face as you see the mermaid listening to you at the edge of the lagoon.

“Thank you,” You respond quietly in case she swims away again. “I’m sorry I scared you earlier.”

“It’s okay, I just don’t like… weapons.” She looks at you questioningly, eyes roaming your body for anything that may hurt her. “I am Layla,” She introduces herself to you as she rests her head over crossed arms.

“Can you sing some more, Captain?” Layla asks as she swims closer to you, beaching herself across from your campfire.

“My mother told me, someday I will buy…” You begin to sing as you examine her features. This was the first time you’ve ever seen a mermaid. “Galley with good oars, sail to distant shores.”

Her ear fins twitch as you continue to sing and she begins to harmonize with your song. Her arms had fins, and her fingers were webbed with sharp nails. It was hard to see in the low light, but you’re sure you made out gills across her ribs and on the sides of her neck.

“Where are your sisters?” You ask the mermaid when you are done with your song. Mermaids always traveled in groups, it's what made them so dangerous.

A forlorn look washes over Layla’s face. “I have left my sisters.”

You wait slowly for her to continue her story. She gathers herself with a deep breath, the gills opening and closing as she does so.

“We were being pursued by hunters. They had these… things, made of something colder than stone, harsher than the afternoon sun, one hit and I see my sisters die before me.” She recalls her memory. “A man, dressed in black, granted me a wish, to be safe from the hunters, but I didn’t realize he would bring me here, swept up in a storm and dropped off.”

A man dressed in black, she says. A certain Endless pops into your mind and it would not be something out of his power to do something like this.

You look around at the flickering shadows that dance due to the fire. You’re looking for a silhouette you’re all too familiar with. Is he fucking with you right now? You glare at a particular shadow that seems almost human but brush it off. “The man in black, what did he look like?”

“I’m not sure. He is pale, has black hair, and wears black clothes. The stars seem to be trapped in his eyes. I think I’ve seen him before, he is familiar, but each time I think of him the thoughts leave me like a dream.”

Yeah… that’s him alright. You think, sighing as a plan begins to form in your head. You lean back, resting your back on a smooth protruding rock.

“How long have you been stuck here?” You ask, slowly inching your way closer to the mermaid.

Layla looks towards the moon and thinks. “I have seen too many new moons to remember. Perhaps… 17?” Layla holds up all 10 of her webbed fingers and you raise a quizzical eyebrow.

“I don’t think you know how to count,” You think to yourself. “Can I ask something of you?”

Layla hums, a light, whimsical sound, and you continue. “Has anyone asked you for your tears before?” You ask slowly, unsure of how to proceed. You’ve only just met the mermaid a few hours ago, after all.

“Do you need a tear?” She asks.

You nod in response.

“Thank you for telling me the truth. I can give you my tears but it is difficult to procure one unless I feel like it. In which case, I am sorry to disappoint you. I have shed my tears long ago when I was imprisoned in this lagoon.” Layla gives you a shy smile and a shrug.

When she is met with your silence, she sighs and flops back into the water, her tail splashing water onto your fire. The water hisses as it comes in contact with the heat and adds steam to your face.

You wait for a few hours, hoping that Layla would resurface but steadily the moon rises higher and higher in the sky and you start to lose hope.

With one last look towards the lagoon cave, you redress yourself and extinguish the flames with sand. You retrace your steps back towards your ship, and dawn breaks when you see the beauty beached by the sea.

“‘Mornin’, Captain,” Your first mate greets you when you scale back up the ship.

“Good morning indeed. Wake up some of the crew and tell them to meet me on shore. We’ve got a mermaid to save,” You wave off your command as you make your way to the captain’s quarters.

“A mermaid?” The young sailor questions excitedly.

“Dear Theo, when I recruited you for my ship did I not guarantee you an adventure of a lifetime?” You look back at him with a smile.

“Yes, Captain Fortune, you did.”

“Then, by all means, get me the hands, and let’s save this mermaid!” You turn back around as you hear Theo’s skittering footsteps.

In your captain’s quarters you look around for something large enough to transport said mermaid. Your eyes land on a large glass display that has a miniature wooden model of your first ship, the one Dream’s Kraken so cheerfully destroyed. Carefully, you remove the model and place it gently on your desk instead.

If you tie a few sticks to extend the frame then you and your crew can hammock her back to open waters.

A small voice in the back of your head taps you on your shoulder. Should you be doing this? You know that Layla was sent to the lagoon by Dream and going against his doing is like sending yourself to the gallows with the noose already around your neck.

You hesitate for a moment. Just a singular moment.

Ah, well, what’s the worst that could happen? He kills you? Boooring, he’s tried that already and failed‒several times.

The sun is beating down on you and your selected crew when you return to land. You lead the way as they carry the sloshing glass crate full of seawater. You smack another bug away from your face with a huff of annoyance.

Soon enough, the lagoon comes into view and you look around with a hand over your eyes for the familiar blue you’ve come to recognize. Your crew sets down the heavy cradle with a groan and stands in the shade as they watch you waddle into the lagoon water.

“Layla?” You call out. Nothing. “Lady Layla of the Lagoon?” You sing out this time. The water ripples beneath you and you catch a glimpse of her tail. You follow it with your eyes until she pops up again.

“I like the new title,” She smiles at you and her ear fins twitch with giddy. “Who are they?” She asks as soon as she sees your entourage behind you, her smile dropping. Layla was tense, ready to dive back into the waters.

You stand between her and your crew, blocking her sight from them. “They’re with me, we didn’t bring weapons,” You say quickly.

She visibly relaxes at your words but leans her body to the side to take another look at them. “Then why are they here?”

“We’re here to take you home,” You say with a low voice, in case any non-human entities were listening in on your conversation. You turn to your crew once more and motion to them to come closer with the glass cradle. “It’s seawater, can I put you in it?” You ask Layla as you explain the simple plan to her.

She looks between you and the glass container, then back at you and nods. Words fail her as she reaches her arms towards you. She was heavier than you expected, the weight of her tail and the water that clung to her was not a part of your calculations.

Layla wraps her arms around your neck as you hoist her out of the waters. Her squirming made it harder to carry her, but the smile she had on her face made it all worth it. Her tail was, well, slimy wouldn’t be the right word to use. It was certainly slippery, but it ran smoothly against your bare forearms like silk from the ports of China.

When you get close enough to the glass tub, she leaps from your arms and settles in. Layla is still smiling and looks around with curiosity as the group begins to march towards the sea. Every now and then you would turn around and check on Layla. Her emotions were understandable, if you had to be landlocked for 17 months, you would go crazy as well. How you did so before your time as a pirate is still a mystery to you.

Your thoughts briefly go to where you used to call home, in a large mansion far away from the port. It was full of stuffy dresses and strict manners. What you could say, or couldn’t say, how you should treat others based on their rank, and how they would affect your family.

You think of your older brother who died serving the navy and how his death caused you to be the sole reason why your father ordered an arranged marriage for you. If not only to maintain your status as a noble lady of the state but also to secure you a future when he was no longer around.

What would he think of you now? Plundering the seven seas, being chased by a deity older than the sea goddess herself?

“What will you do first when you return to sea?” You ask Layla as a distraction.

“Find my sisters, of course,” She says. “Or find what remains of them. Either way, I will be home, and severely have I missed it.” Layla tilts her head to the sky and takes in a deep breath. “Can you smell the sea? That salty brine?” She squeals, flicking her tail excitedly, ignoring how the water splashes out of the tub.

The sun begins to dip by the time you’ve reached the beach, painting the water gold. You watch as the waves crash into each other, creating ripples and sparkles in the sea. The ocean looked like the surface of the rarest gem.

“Ready?” You ask Layla, resting your arms on the edge of the glass tub.

She nods once more and reaches out for you. You transport her into your arms once again, this time more prepared for the weight shift. Your footsteps grow heavy into the soft sand as you match towards the sea.

Layla’s ear fins shimmy against your cheek, tickling you as the two of you get closer to the sea. You wade into the water, the salty spray of the ocean sticking to your clothes and hair the deeper you went. When you were chest deep you lowered the mermaid into the waters.

Layla leaves your arms gracefully and sighs, taking a deep breath underwater as the salt filters through her gills. She does a few experimental circles around your feet, her colors grow into a deeper, more vibrant blue in her natural habitat. Layla resurfaces with a blue conch shell that was the same color as her fins. Her smile has yet to falter and only grows bigger by the minute.

“Have this,” She says as she hands you the iridescent shell. “Blow into it when you need my help. Even in your most perilous circumstances, I will hear it no matter where I am.” Her words begin to tremble on her lips.

Cautiously she reaches for your waist, grabbing at the small glass vile you had hanging on your leather belt. She brings the vile to the edge of her eyes and when she blinks, a tear falls slowly into the vile. It shines in the dusk light before she re-corks it, keeping it safe.

“This is the happiest day of my life, so really I must thank you for what you have done, Captain Fortune,” She whispers slowly as she carefully turns the vile in her webbed fingers.

She watches as her tear rolls around in the long tube before she hands it back to you. Your fingers linger over hers when she gives it back and you pull yourself closer to her.

“Thank you, Layla.” You bring your lips to her cheek and kiss her goodbye, tasting the salt on her skin. Layla hums at the warmth before she pulls away first.

She stays quiet for a moment, the two of you enjoying the small moment of peace. "What are your thoughts, Layla?" You probe.

“Whatever you may use my tear for, do so without guilt. It was given lovingly. I will never forget you.” She doesn’t wait for a response before she dives deeper into the sea. It’s not long before you see her jump out of the water, her hair and tail flying in the wind with a spray of water as a final goodbye.

The map changes a month after Layla’s departure, its scribbles and instructions mix and realign themselves for the next item. Though, you wished it didn’t considering the new instructions were nothing more than vague words and instructions.

“When the storm brews and the heavens roar, prepare your vessel of wood and of glass, forged in the heart of a dying star will you find the sizzle of light.” You reread the instructions with a frown. Your eyes scan the words over and over until you think you’ve forgotten how to read. You close the map with a sigh and stick it back in your pants pocket.

Despite the unforgiving temperature of the tropics, the tear never evaporates in your vile. Occasionally, like today, you would stare at the tear, watching it glimmer in the rising sun when the rest of the ship was asleep. Her lullaby haunts the back of your mind, the humming seeming to echo across the vastness of the calm ocean. The Dream King has yet to come for you for what you have done, something that you took as a good sign.

A rumble in the distance shakes you from your thoughts. You refasten the vile to your belt, next to where Layla’s conch shell rested. The wind picks up and whips your hair around like crazy tentacles. Approaching fast on the horizon were gray and angry storm clouds. Thunder booms and lightning cracks across the dark blanket of doom.

Your ship was ahead of it, for now. The smell of ozone and petrichor is strong in your nose as you turn and start ringing the bell to wake up your group of misfit miscreants.

“Lower the sails, let’s outrun this storm, Mr. Theo,” You told your first mate as you took to the wheel.

Theo repeats your orders to the awaiting crew below you and they begin to scramble about. The sails lower, their dark blue colors turning black in the absence of light. Doors were being shut and cannons tied to the ship.

The storm grows fast, and even with the help of the northern wind full in your sails, rainwater begins to belt down on you. Your blouse did little to protect your skin from the harsh raindrops. Still, you steered with shielded eyes. A few of your crew decided to go below deck, only you, Theo, and a few more daring pirates decided to stay above and help maintain the ship.

A large wave crashes into your ship, jolting the vessel relentlessly. For a moment, your fingers slip from the prongs along the wheel, but you’re quick to regain your feet and hands. The winds and waves leave you at the whims of Mother Nature. Each time you try to recourse your ship, the wheel resists you.

The storm was right above you now, ripping large gashes into your sails. It would be too dangerous to pull them up by now, you can only hope for the best. Lightning briefly cracks across the sky and gives light to your next issue.

Your ship starts to circle in the open sea and you realize with a dry throat that you were stuck in a whirlpool. No matter how much you try to shift course, the will of the sea did not listen to your commands.

“Shit! Fuck! Goddamn it!” You cuss all known cuss words under the sun and then some more.

Your cussing grows louder as the wheel splits off its pole and the last bit of your resistance is lost. Screams were heard around you as the wooden vessel flung straight into the vortex. Each person on your crew flashes behind your eyes as your body slams into the ship's walls. You’re trying to regain your breath, instead inhaling rainwater and you’re met with a coughing fit.

The prongs of Layla’s shell presses deeply into your back and a brief moment of clarity washes over you. Trying to keep your balance on waterlogged boots, you reach the rails of your ship. You pull off the blue shell and press it to your lips.

You blow, hard and long, feeling the low hum vibrating across the shell. You blow again, the thought of blue fins and a mother’s lullaby on your mind. You wish for the safe passage of you and your crew back into calm seas. You wish for Layla.

Another sharp jolt and your wet fingers drop the shell. You cuss again over the raging winds as you bend over to pick it up. One more blow into the shell wouldn’t hurt. Before your fingers could wrap around the shell, the ship tips and you fall into the open sea.

“Theo!” You scream as your arms flail around you, trying to grab at anything and everything that could help you.

Your fingers wrap around a stray rope, the twine burning through your skin as you continue to fall. The rain leaves you gripless and even your desperate cry isn’t enough to hold on.

Falling into rough seas is as good as falling onto wooden floors. When you hit the waters, the air is knocked out of you once more. You’re barely grasping at the concept of consciousness as you’re submitted to the commands of the tides.

A familiar flash of serene blue crosses your vision and hands grab at your arms.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Layla sobs out near your ear.

She takes a look over her shoulder, but in your losing war with consciousness, you don’t pay much attention. Her powerful tail swims you towards the surface where air fills your lungs immediately.

Layla swims back underwater before you can thank her. You look around in the storm for your ship or a piece of it to cling onto but all you’re met with is another crashing wave. Sea water enters your nose, the sharpness hits you in the back of the head and you gasp at the intrusion. Water then enters your mouth and you accidentally gulp it down in a growing desperation to breathe. The relentless sea gives you no time to do so as another wave crashes into your body and back underwater you go.

You brave your eyes open, feeling your body being tugged by the whirlpool. You search for her, for your mermaid, and only find her trying to swim along the currents of the ongoing storm. Something black streaks across your vision and you watch it as it catches up to to Layla. The two swim in circles, the whirlpool growing stronger as the two mercreatures chase each other.

You squint in the low visibility of the water and a familiar pale body and slicked-back black hair meets you. He pauses his chase for a moment, sensing your stare at him and he looks back. Dream’s eyes are gone, and in its place a void of black. He frowns when he sees you, his tail flicking in annoyance at your interruption.

Dream closes his eyes and you see his gills take in a deep breath before he returns to chasing after Layla. You watch helplessly as his arms ensnare around her waist. She fights back with the last of her strength, but having used most of it helping you and swimming away from your aforementioned “lover”, she loses the battle quickly.

Dream keeps her in his arms as he dives deeper into the ocean, his black tail disappearing into the depths. The only indication was the small lights that decorated the fins, much like the bioluminescent light you would find on caught anglerfish. You stay for a second longer, your lungs screaming at you for air, but a part of you hopes that you may see the familiar blue come to you again.

The whirlpool calms and with defeat you swim towards the surface. You’re about to break the surface when hands wrap themselves around you. You briefly feel the silkiness of scales against your skin before you’re launched into the air. The force behind the tail gives you enough air for the two of you to land on your ship.

You cough, water sloughing off your figure like raindrops. The sky had cleared and the sea was calm again, as if nothing just happened.

“Layla?” You call out, coughing out the last remnants of seawater from your lungs.

“No.” Came your simple answer.

You turn quickly and meet Dream’s eyes. He’s still in his merman form, sitting on the railing of your ship. Realizing comes to you too quickly and you pathetically search his face for any form of remorse for what he had done.

“Where is she?” You ask. You feel rage starting to bubble to the surface. Your crew was nowhere to be seen, either hiding under deck or lost to the storm.

“Gone,” Dream answers simply.

Dream watches as you look around the ship for something. In an attempt to prove his point, he moves his tail, revealing to you what you need to see. Not what you wanted, he knew what you wanted, but you needed to understand the truth, now.

You’re searching for blue and when Dream moves his tail over, the bioluminescent lights along his fins dim in the sun. His tail was beautiful and a part of you would’ve loved to have admired it, but that familiar blue catches your eyes.

There was so much blue, shattered and broken into pieces.

You fall to your knees as you scoop up the shattered pieces of Layla’s shell. Your hand curls into fists as you bring it closer to your chest. The pieces cut into your skin and blue mixes with bright red.

Staring at the mosaic of colors, you're reluctant to let go. To let go of the shell is to let go of her. To let go of the pain is to accept the grief that is to come with her death.

“She’s gone.” It wasn’t a question, it was realization.

You look at Dream with slightly teary eyes and he doesn’t bother with a response. He gives you one last look before falling backward, diving back into the depths of the ocean.

♡ Goodbye, Layla

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #pirate au #mermaid au #dream the endless #a pirate queen for me #merman dream brainrot is real

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hunny-beann · 6 months

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

Rest Now, Wife, Mine

Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

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

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

Thankfully, he is all too happy to oblige.

Warnings: None! Just pure and unbridled fluff :)

Word Count: 1,298

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a disastrous little thing she was, truly.

He could never love another.

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

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

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

"You are tired, my dear."

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

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head,

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

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

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

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

He frowned.

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

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

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

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

"You just what, dearest?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Poor thing,"

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

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

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

"Rest now, wife, mine."

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

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

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

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

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

ao3 link

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quackarl · 2 years

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MCYT HAVING A CRUSH • HEADCANONS

A/N: I write for Foolish and Punz now too, everybody cheered! Here’s some (really specific, too!) headcanons on how they would act when reaaallyyy crushing on someone… Any way, please keep sending me requests! May take a while for me to write them, but hey, I’ve been feeling really excited about writing lately 🫶🏻 My next, or one of my next, uploads will be a full-length little fiction piece of Dream having a crush, sooo we’ll continue with this crush theme… 👀

DREAM:

If you were a streamer yourself, he’d definitely gift subs on each stream of yours. Let’s be real, he wouldn’t settle for 20 gifted subs, make it a 100. Sometimes he’d donate and attach messages with them such as “hey nice stream you got there” or just straight up “(sugar) daddy dream is here”. UM, RIP CHAT. AM I RIGHT? Knowing him, it’d be an unnecessarily large amount of money, but he just wants to see the stunned look on your face and hear you thank and praise him for his generosity like no other. Man’s smiling so hard at himself and feeling a little prideful for being able to spoil you like that, in front of thousands of people watching too, and thinking if only he could spoil you as more than a friend.

Giving you piggyback rides! Or more like demanding to give you piggyback rides… Dream would give off such cocky energy when he’d get to carry you on his back, though. Like you were royalty and he was your carriage. I can just imagine him walking around piggybacking you and someone asking him for a favor, to which he’d reply “I’d love to but I’m kinda busy here, and my hands are kinda full so…” and gesture at you on his back and his hands supporting you. You’d hurrily try to climb off of him, to which he’d just yelp a little “no!” and then proceed to throw you a reassuring smile over his shoulder, silently telling you he likes having you so close to him.

Yeah so, those little acts of service are it for him. He’d feel the urge to spoil you, as stated before, and this side of him would strongly come out if you ever were to shop with him around. If you ever wanted to even look at an item, you better do it quick and not let him see. Because the moment he sees you looking a little too hard at or twiddle with something you’re considering buying, he strides over to you and starts asking “you want it? ‘Cause if you want it, it’s yours” and you can already see him taking out his credit card. And before he even gives you time to think, he has already bought it for you. Damn, he’d buy the whole store for you in a heartbeat if you asked. So, better not even joke about it to him…

You know the really cheesy move guys pull when they yawn and stretch and lift up their arm and then put it over their crushes’ shoulder? I feel like Dream would be so guilty of attempting that, successfully attempting that. He’d make it super playful though, he doesn’t want to scare you away, in case you wouldn’t feel the same way about him. After successfully getting his arm around you, he’d blissfully sigh “ah! This is nice, or what?”

He’d make playlists, for himself. And they’d be public for everyone to see. Nothing weird about that, right? Or at least at first, there was nothing exceptional about them, or so did everyone thought, until later a few fans pointed it out that, maybe coincidentally, the first letters of each track spelt out your name. Totally not a coincidence for Dream, even though that’s what he tells to the curious public: it’s all a coincidence. He wouldn’t be afraid to make his crush on you obvious to the world. Because no one would know just how serious he was about it, instead he’d just play it off as playful banter between two close friends. It’d be just for him to know that he did it out of true affection. Maybe someday for you to know as well, he hopes. But for now, he settles for playing it cool and laughing off the people online freaking out.

Even more of being close to you. Like in forms of giving you massages. Yep. He’d sneak up behind you and just start massaging your shoulders. In a totally friendly way. Or so he hopes it seems like, because again, he doesn’t want to scare you away. So a friendly massage. And who are you to turn down a free massage? And so he’s massaging away and relishing in getting to be close to you again. He’d get super into it though and probably make a few dramatic “Ohh! Ahh! Oh yeah!” sound effects of his own. He’d ask you then “you feel good now?” You know damn well that Sapnap would fight the urge to ask Dream does he like making you feel good.

SAPNAP:

Congrats, now that he’s (still secretly) hardcore crushing on you big time, you have a hype man of your own (that’s him). If it came to video games and watching you play them, he’d (sometimes lewdly) comment on every move you’d make in the game, such as “you’re so fucking good at that. You know what being around a good player, who’s also hot, does to me”, he’d scream “YEAH!” a little too loud whenever you’d win. Others hearing it will point out his constant praise with a “yeah, we get it already” to which he’d mumble a quiet “shut up” and bite back a smile. Like Dream, he just wants to like you loud and proud, but not give it away that he’s actually being serious and doing more than just platonic flirting. He also finds you being skilled attractive, no matter how small the said skill is. Even when it comes to mundane things, he’s still rooting for you. It could be something as simple as cooking with him and his need to praise you would get triggered by something as simple as you working a blender perfectly. Yeah… He cheers and claps when you’re done blending and then explains himself when you question what got him so excited, “n-no, nothing, it’s just that, that can be pretty tough, y’know? Especially avoiding spillage. Dream usually doesn’t know how to do it the right way so-“ “Yes, I do!” Dream would interrupt and yell from the living room. Sapnap just hopes he shuts up so he doesn’t blow his cover. He knows that Dream knows damn well how to use the blender, but in his eyes you’re just superior at everything, so even if it takes throwing Dream under the bus to make you feel superior, he’ll do it.

Okay, so, he loves praising you but he also likes hearing you praise him. He’d trick you into it though by asking you questions such as “don’t I just look so good today?” or “do you like this new hoodie I bought?” You’d have no choice than to agree and tell him that yes, he looks nice. It literally has him falling asleep with a smile on his face that night, wishing that the more you tell him that, the more you’ll also convince yourself that he is indeed pretty cute, and hot, and handsome, and all that. He’d do anything to convince you that he’s the most handsome thing you’ll ever see.

God help him if you’d ever talk to him about someone other than him, any other guy. Yeah, his heart would break a little, but it’d also make him super competitive and, well, petty as hell. You could even harmlessly compliment Karl and he’d instantly get into a “but I’m better” mood. And that’s also exactly what he’d ask you, “but he’s not as cute as me, right?” You’d be taken back a little and tell him that “I think there’s no reason for that,” which should be enough to reassure him and his petty mood, but he’d just pout and grunt back “we’ll see about that.” He can’t sometimes stand anyone else than him hearing those compliments from you, especially if he was in a grumpy mood to begin with. Talking about compliments, he’d also learn any skill just to impress you. And to be better than everyone else. Simp behavior…

He’d also be sooo whiny. He’d use that whiny tone to convince you. Trying to convince you to stay over at his house for a little longer. Or trying to convince you in voice call to play one more round of a game with him on stream when you’d have million of other important things to do instead. He’d talk in that tone only for you, but he wouldn’t really care if others heard him. Usually if any of the boys would hear him, they’d definitely gag at his sweet talk. All in good fun, of course. If you were to deny him and his attempt to get you to join his team for just one more round, he wouldn’t stop whining for the majority of the stream nor the call. 30 minutes later and you can still occasionally hear his voice whining, “whyyyyy? But why would you say ‘no’? Pleaseeeee....” aaand cue to Karl gagging.

Sapnap would be so slick when it comes to spending more time with you, or initiating to spend more time with you. He’d ask you “hey, do you remember when we went to that arcade?” and you’d be a mess of confusion because, you have never been to an arcade with him, so you’d tell him with a nervous laughter “no? I don’t think that ever happened” to which he’d smirk at you and say “well, should we make it happen?” And that’s how he took to you an arcade. And to many other places. He pretends they’re dates. But shh, that’s a secret. He wouldn’t want to ruin a great friendship. He just hopes you like the slick ones if he ever was to ruin it.

Letting you borrow his hoodie and then claiming that you can keep it when you try to give it back to him? YES. This actually would happen with a couple of his hoodies. Very gentleman-y of him. You wouldn’t even have time to finish your sentence about how cold it is outside, when he already is handing you his hoodie. You’d go through the bickering back and forth of him insisting that you put it on and that he’ll be fine without it, that he’s not cold at all, and you telling him that he doesn’t need to give it to you. He knows he doesn’t, but he wants to. So let him, please. Let him enjoy the cute view (he secretly enjoys) of you in his clothes. Later on he then tells you to “just keep it”, because he has ‘plenty of hoodies anyway.’ Oh boy, he just hopes you wear it around him sometime…

Sooo quick to defend you. Sometimes it’d be a little unnecessary how strongly he’d react, but he feels that it’s now (that he’s absolutely smitten by you) in his blood to defend and protect you from anything that could make you feel bad about yourself. It could be something as simple as someone pointing out that you bite your nails as a bad habit and Sapnap would open his mouth and tell them “bro, stop. Leave them alone.” Everyone would be a little stunned and tell him to calm down, to which he’d mutter “yeah, whatever”, but no, he wouldn’t let himself calm down just yet. For the remaining of the day he’s on high alert, ready to defend you some more.

GEORGE:

My God, he’d get so giggly and blushy around you. He’d definitely argue back that no, he doesn’t, but he does. Just hearing you laugh, he’d start laughing and giggling along, even when he’d have no clue what’s so funny and what exactly it is that you’re laughing at. And the blushing! If anyone was to point out the blush on his cheeks, he’d just shake his head, roll his eyes and assure that no, his face is not red (while he is visibly red). At his weakest, he wouldn’t even be able to look at your way without blushing. How much longer exactly will he be able to hide his feelings like that?

Sometimes when he’d feel extremely bold and brave, he’d take things to Twitter. Or someone would do it for him. What I mean is that, George would look up or come across a video of let’s say, two cats cuddling or kissing, or whatsoever, and tag you and tweet “Me and you?” Twitter has a meltdown. Meltdown is an understatement. Maybe he’d get cold feet almost immediately and delete it before too many people would see it. (Too bad that there’ll still be hundreds of screenshots of it.) Sometimes someone else like Sapnap would instead tag you and George in a similar tweet and say “this @y/n and @GeorgeNotFound???” Yeah, you may be blind to the massive crush George has on you, but Sapnap isn’t…

Filming totally pointless TikToks with him... Yeah, they’re pointless and it’s his ideas that usually are just causing confusion amongst anyone watching them. There’s no plot, just vibes. But he can’t ignore how happy and comfortable he feels with you even on camera, even when you’re doing some stupid TikTok dances. And in a way, he also gets to show off your friendship, he wishes it was more than friendship, to the world. So yeah, most of the time they were spontaneous clips that we’re just filmed in the heat of the moment, a little humorous, definitely chaotic. What anyone watching would see on the screen is just two friends hanging out and having fun, but it’s totally different from what he feels. And he totally plays them back and watches them alone afterwards, smiling at his phone, smiling at you on his screen. And then checking you out a little bit too, “wow…”

Sure, he’s able to gently joke around with you, but then somehow end up feeling a little bad for it. He could offer you a snack and ask you “you want this?” and when you’d say yes, instead of feeding it to you, he’d instead eat it himself and laugh at you “hah! You can’t have it!” Soon he’d start feeling bad for you, even though there definitely was no harm done with that little prank, but he feels bad enough to go above and beyond to get you your own snacks that no one can steal away from you, not even him. He’d present them to you with a “woo-o! Look what I have!” and wow, he’d be so red in the face again when you stare at him with your mouth agape in surprise and ask him “you did this… for me?”

Whenever someone in the room told a joke, he’d always look at you first to see your reaction, your smile, your laugh in response. That’s such an adorable little habit he has formed now that he has a crush. For him, seeing you happy and content comes first. He’d also laugh at pretty much anything you’d say. Maybe it’s nervous laughter, for how he always feels a bit nervous around you. You could be saying the most normal things, such as “I took a walk today,” and he’d burst out laughing at that. Yeah, don’t even ask... He thinks laughter is the way to your heart, as dramatic as it sounds.

But he’d also have that side of him to be loud and… annoying around you. Maybe it’d be to keep your attention on him, to keep him on your mind at all times, even when he’s not with you. So he’d find the most bizarre ways to find his way into your days. Like, prank calling you out of nowhere. He’d call you and when you’d pick up, he’d just scream down the phone and then hang up. So romantic… But then he’d get you to call him back, to ask him if he has something to actually tell you, and then manage to keep you on the phone for an hour, just chit-chatting about nothing in particular. After you’d tell him that you have to go, he’d shriek at you “nooo! But I am so bored! Don’t leave me die of boredom! And what would you do without me then, hmm? What’s even more important to you than talking to me right now? Are you scheming to get rid of me? ‘Cause you won’t!”

He’d usually turn to you for advice, he really trusts you to not screw him over. I mean, why wouldn’t he? You’re a savior and an angel in his eyes. You could give him the worst advice and he’d still blindly follow it, just because it’s advice that came from you. And in his eyes, you could never be wrong about anything. He could text you “should I get a haircut?” and you’d tell him “sure but it’s really up to you?” and yeah, he knows it’s up to him but at least he got an opinion from you so he just texts you back “yeah I guess :]”. You best believe that he goes ahead and gets the haircut, that you technically agreed with, and only hopes you like it.

KARL:

When Karl is crushing on you, he’d be genuinely offended if you did stuff without him. Stuff that usually the two of you would do together, like watch anime, or cartoons. Or any TV -show. He’d ask you if you’ve seen the newest episode of an anime you’ve both been hooked on that just came out a few days ago, thinking that it’d be nice if you could watch it with him, but when you’d tell him that “yeah. I watched it last night,” he’d let out a frustrated sigh and tilt his head back in annoyance and tell you “nooo! I really wanted to watch it with you! Now, why would you do that and watch it without me?” Of course, he wasn’t actually mad at you, but he was really hoping he could’ve made it your thing to keep up with that anime together. So yeah, he’s a little annoyed you’d watch it without him. He likes the nights when you’re both cozy on the couch, watching it, commenting on every plot twist. Big sigh.

He’d talk to you, like a lot. Even when there was nothing to talk about. Because, in his (secret) opinion, there is always something to talk about with you. He makes conversations out of anything just to get to talk to you. You could be sitting with him in his room, looking out the window, watching birds fly by and he’d just ask you “what’s your favorite bird?” and then smile at you like he didn’t just ask the most random question and like he actually doesn’t genuinely seem interested in knowing the answer. Because he does. Well, you’d end up talking about birds, flying, nature.... and he is so happy. Because all that matters is that he’s talking to you.

He’d insist on making secret handshakes with you, that no one else knows and can learn except than you two, and then feeling so proud about them afterwards. He’d remember them even after a long time, you’d ask him how does he still remember and he would just blush and stutter, “I- it’s just kind of special. Of course I remember.”

Okay, so... Fan-fiction. He’d definitely read the fan-fictions people would write about you (there already are shippers out there, even though he has not admitted crushing on you). Maybe that’s adding fuel to the fire when he’d read them on stream. Bad idea? Maybe... He’d put so much effort into the reading, making it all feel as real as possible, voice acting to the best of his ability and all. It makes chat question though, why is he so into it? And why is he giggling every five seconds? Any possible kissing scenes... He would not even skip over them, but instead he’d make literal kissing sounds into the mic... Someone stop him.

For some reason, I can imagine him casually showing up when he knows you’re around in a shirt that says something like “if you’re reading this, I have a crush on you” and look out for your reaction. Well, yeah, you read it, and so did everyone else that talked to him that day. You laughed it off and joked that “everyone already knows that he’s a homie hopper” and so did everyone else. He’d dream about the day he could eventually confess his crush on you and also tell you that he has actually told you about it way before, and when you’d confusingly ask him when did that happen, he’d tell you that “you read my shirt, that one day when you called me out for being a homie hopper, didn’t you?” And then it’d all click.

Aww, you’d get to model for his merch! He’d ask you, no, he’d beg you. Is there really anything he’d enjoy more than seeing you in his brand new merch, before anyone else sees it? And have those pictures plastered all over his social media accounts and website? No way. Between every shot he’d take of you, he’d giggle and mutter a little “perfect”, his eyes gleaming and cheeks blushing. Every minute he’d resist the temptation to tell you how perfect you really look, because 1. he doesn’t want to get too sappy now, and 2. he still has a secret to keep... Yeah, he’s crushing on you harder than ever after that.

Whenever there’d be a group gathering and not enough seats for all of you... do I even need to say it? This man would immediately get up and give up his seat for you. A few hours later you’d call over to him, “Karl, you’ve been standing for two hours now. Don’t you want your seat back already?” and he’d shush you with a “nonsense! I’m a big man. What’s a few hours more!?” Actually, he’d give up on everything to share with you if you needed, like earbuds. Or food. Anything. If nothing, it’s always the seat he saves for you or gives up for you.

QUACKITY:

Mostly you would play Minecraft or Roblox with him, if you’re into it. And oh man, he’d enjoy that a lot. He would not leave you alone even in the game, he’d follow your character around for the majority of it. You’d turn around in the game and boom, he’s right there on your tail. He’s actually been there the whole time. When it’s not only you and him, but also other boys in the game and in the voice chat, he’d sometimes just... act like it was just the two of us talking. Listen, he’s not rude like that, but he just really likes talking to you. You just get him, he’d think. And sure, you have a similar sense of humour. He likes. He’d crack so many jokes and funny remarks throughout the whole game. Just trying to be the funniest person in the call for you. Every time someone else, like George, would laugh at his joke that he told to you, he’d shut him down with a “bro, the fuck? That joke was obviously meant for (Y/n). You weren’t supposed to get it.” All in good fun, again. He just likes having his moments with you.

Phone calls! So many phone calls. He just wants to talk to you and hear your voice. Isn’t that sweet? When it’s time to hang up, he’d tell you “ah, I’ll talk to you again soon, okay?” and you’d agree, thinking that he’ll call you again in a few days. But he calls you exactly a minute later. You’d pick up and he’d excitedly tell you “I said I’ll talk to you again soon, didn’t I? What do you mean this is ‘too soon?’”

Would, gently, make fun of you. This doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone. Maybe he’d try turning the tables a little bit, when people online would get a little suspicious of his sudden fondness towards you, he’d make it seem like you are actually the one crushing on him, and not the other way. Maybe that would be also a way for him to test the waters a little bit, to see how you’d react to the thought of it. He’d just make ridiculous posts online, like tweeting a poll that says “Is (Y/N) down bad or down good for me ?? Idk about you guys but they seem a little obsessed lately” or post a picture of the two of you and caption it as “after this picture was taken (Y/n) told me they like me 😳” (You definitely didn’t and the people online seemed to side with you).

The words “I like you” has actually come out of his mouth a few times around you. In a friendly way. He knows he does like you, definitely as friends, but also definitely as more than friends. But for now, liking you as a friend is the most he can do and he wants to seize it. It was when he has done a nice favour for you or given you advice on a tough situation that’s been bothering you, when you’d thank him for what he did for you, he would reply with a “yeah, of course. I fucking like you, and care about you, so..”. It was a friendly reminder and affirmation and that’s how you perceived it. So he does tell you sometimes, not just in a way that it’d make you realise he likes you more than as a friend.

So, back to him gently making fun of you, or mocking you, he’d imitate you, your gestures. I can imagine he’d pull that with any of his friends, but you are definitely not safe from that. He’d know the limits though, he’d know not to be too harsh, but you know, from spending so much time with him and the others, you’ve kind of grown into it that there’s a lot of joking around and poking fun at each other. He’d also comment on your height, like so much height talk! If you were shorter than him, then bless you, he’d love it. Always teasing you, using you as an arm rest or asking if you need a ladder. Or you could be doing absolutely nothing and he’d tease you, “what? Do I make you nervous? You have a crush on me or something?” Orrrrr you could accidentally just mispronounce a word and he’d never let you live it down. Just reminding you of it and repeating it back to you like a parrot. But, don’t take any offence, it’s just his love language.

He’d make over-the-top fan-cams or edits of you, and purposefully make them as ridiculous and exaggerated as possible. Usually he’d also include himself in them. Making sure that everyone knows that he is your #1 shipper, but also at the same time not wanting everyone to figure it out that he’s got it bad for you. He’d put them up on Twitter regardless. You’d reply to him “wtf ???” and he’d just reply back to you “😎😎 😎” He’d dare to be more bold and confident online. And I know what you’re thinking, Alex shy in real life? Well, around you, yes, a little. But online, he’d be thriving, tweeting unhinged things at you, or of you.

He definitely has some gentleman-y in him. He’d express that by, for example, offering to carry your things for you. You’re carrying a rather heavy looking bag? “I’ll take this,” he’d just announce and snatch it out of your hands. You don’t have anywhere to put your phone or keys? Swoop, same thing, but they’d go in his pocket. A few times fans has gotten glimpses of him emptying his pockets for you and handing you back your phone and other little essentials, and it was a pretty adorable sight.

WILBUR:

I mean, the way he’d even look at you gives it all away, it’d almost be a little intimidating. But he can’t help it. The way he listens to you talk and then smirks at himself, glancing piercingly at you, occasionally glancing down at his lap trying to hide his lovey-dovey smile, trying to collect his thoughts, because God, he thinks you are so adorable. I feel like his eyes can tell more than a million words could. It’s just too bad you haven’t figured out the real emotions behind his eyes.

He’d memorise pretty much every little habit of yours, no matter how little, and then slyly smirk at himself every time he’d catch you doing them. One of those days, he’ll definitely tell you that he has taken notice of them. You’d be caught off guard and ask him “you really notice them?” and there comes that smirk on his face again, as he just nods with a quiet “yeah” and then carries on the conversation like nothing happened. But not without adding on that “it’s really cute”.

A little cliche, a little predictable, but he’d definitely all of a sudden start writing down some new mysterious, a little mushy, song lyrics... He’d run them by you and ask if they’re any good, you’d then end up asking him the important question, “who is it about?” (because, how could you not ask when it’s literally a love letter in form of a song?) and he’d sigh and say it’s about “unrequited love”. You’d leave it at that, not wanting to intrude too much, since he looks and sounds so vulnerable. He’ll wish you would’ve intruded a little more though, since he literally wrote it about you, his crush! He just doesn’t leave it at one song, but writes a couple of them. All of them about you. He dreams of being able to play them at a gig, with you in the audience, telling you they’re all about you right before going on stage... Someday, he sighs.

As a person, and especially as a person who’s really crushing on you, he would be keen on sharing every little detail with his family and close friends. So, some of his family and friends would be aware of how he feels towards you. He trusts them not to spoil the secret and hey, he could never keep his mouth shut when it comes to talking about you anyway. Sometimes while hanging out with you, he’d keep checking his phone and just smiling at it, occasionally typing long paragraphs, or so it seemed to you. You’d wonder if it’s about something you said, or if there’s someone special texting him, someone who he really cares about and really wants to talk to instead. But actually, it’d be him blowing up his friends’ phones, telling them how adorable you’re being right now. He’d be doing the whole keyboard smash thing as well. That’s how gone he is for you.

Boom, his energy and happiness levels would suddenly rise whenever you’re in the room. He’d feel super playful too, like sneaking up behind you and then whisper “boo” in your ear in a low tone, trying to playfully frighten you, and when you’d turn around to face him, you’d come face to face with the brightest eyes and smile you’ve ever seen. He’s like the happiest he’ll ever be when he’s around you. No matter how many times he has already done that, he does it almost every time he catches you alone in the room. It had almost became your thing now. You’ve learned not to get as frightened anymore as you used to, and he has learned how much he really likes getting to come so close to you and getting a reaction out of you, whether it’d be you scolding him for scaring you again or laughing at his antics.

Strumming something on his guitar for you. I know, again, very cliche, very cheesy, very romantic, very predictable of him, but no, he doesn’t do that just for anybody. But you’re very special. (Even though you don’t know how special yet). And to spice things up a bit, he’ll make it a little more lighthearted, he’d literally play you memes, or vines. Yeah, for example, you know that “I love you bitch, I ain’t never gonna stop loving you bitch” vine? Mayyyybe he’d replace the word ‘bitch’, with some platonic pet name, if he was feeling generous, lol. But yeah, just not to make things seem too serious, he’d try to make you laugh with those amusing private performances, and also try to flex a little with his guitar playing, of course. If you’d admire him in his element, strumming away on his guitar, a little too much, he’d get super cocky and yeah... Cocky Wilbur is a whole different breed.

Everything you’d ever feel embarrassed about, he’d embrace it. He’d never let you dwell on something embarrassing that happening to you for too long. If you’d totally mess up your words, or stumble and fall over, or be caught talking or singing to yourself, he’d reassure you that he finds it “very cute” and not embarrassing at all. In some situations, if you’d mess up and embarrass yourself in front of a lot of people, or in public, he’d intentionally mess up with you, just to take the attention away from you and make you feel better about it. You’d fall over? He’d make himself trip too. You’d bump against a glass door? He’ll be right there behind you to walk into it as well. He’d just never let you feel like there’s ever anything worth feeling too embarrassed over and, in his thoughts, how could anyone as adorable as you even be embarrassing? If anything, it’s just cute.

FOOLISH:

Oh man, he’d be an awkward one at first when he’d realize his strong feelings towards you, but he does get a lot smoother with time. And, he’s trying his best, okay.

He’d also be someone who would find it very important to make you laugh lots, be an entertainer just for you. Because he doesn’t think there is anything more attractive than someone he’s able to laugh with over the most ridiculous things, things that always wouldn’t even make sense to others. And yeah, also seeing you laugh is attractive to him, even more attractive if you’re laughing at a joke he made. Basically just whenever you’d be hanging out, it’d be an ongoing urge for him: must make you laugh. Sometimes it’d be him just squatting down to your level and starting to make random noises in your ear. That’s literally his sense of humour... And it’d be even more hilarious for him, if you’d do the same back to him. The most random noises he could think of, chirping, squeaking, beeping.... anything. Or suddenly starting up a game of tag with you, running around chasing each other, and the only way to tag each other was to tickle them. He’d squeal and wiggle like a worm when you would tickle him. It’s always something silly with him...

Protective Foolish would suddenly become a thing when he’d realize his feelings for you, and also realize that there’s nothing more he wants to do than protect you and your feelings. Keep you away from anything or anyone that could make you feel even a little uncomfortable, or hurt. His way of protecting and defending you would be just a chunk of sarcasm coming out of his mouth. He’d turn sarcastic any time when he’d feel like it’s time to protect you. If there was someone badmouthing you, he’d put on the most spiteful face you could think of and with his voice dripping with sarcasm, he’d ask them “is it so? Is that what you think, now? Was there a little shit talking there, or what?” You could tell that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need to do this, but he wouldn’t give up. He’d be so intimidating, with his tone and height and all, that he could get an apology out of anyone. And he usually does get the people badmouthing you to apologize to you, while Foolish just stands there with his arms crossed examining that it’s a genuine apology, feeling like he has accomplished another mission of his, which is to make sure that in the end your feelings are unharmed.

Now, he’d be definitely someone who would mess up his hair a little on purpose, in hopes that you would fix it for him and smother the strands sticking up back in place. He’s so desperate for some touch from you that he’d go to such extreme lengths. God forbid if anyone would catch him doing that, he’d be so embarrassed. You’d turn around from him for a few seconds, which would give him time to very aggressively ruffle his hair with his hands and when you’d look back at him, his hair would suddenly look like it’s been through a tornado, and so you’d laugh a little and ask him “what happened? What’s going on with your hair?” and then laugh some more because he looks so ridiculous. He’d chuckle a little bit too, a little out of embarrassment, because he still can’t believe himself for the things he’s doing just to have you touch him and pay a little extra-attention to him. But regardless, he just shrugs and bends down to your level and asks you “I don’t know what happened? What? Is it bad? Fix it for me?” and you’d be a little taken aback because, did he really just ask you to do that? But of course you’d agree to it.

Every little thing or favour you’d do for him, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem to you, he’d appreciate the heck out of them, and you. Because, was there a better feeling for him than having the person he truly, genuinely likes, to be willing to help him out with anything? He’d thank you a trillion times, and a trillion more if he could. Something as simple as you turning on the coffee machine for him, he’d tell you “seriously, thank you. That helped me like, a tons. It saved my day,” and you’d giggle and reply to him “you’re welcome. But all I did was just press a button.” He wouldn’t have that belittling, so he’d be a little more dramatic just for you and proceed to tell you how much easier it made his day, “no, like seriously, that was the best thing you could’ve ever done for me.” Okay, then.

A crushing Foolish would be so sweet that he’d totally blew off his other plans to be with you instead. You’d know that he’s been looking forward to seeing this movie with a couple of his friends that one night, but when he’d become aware of how you have no plans for that night, he’d declare how he’d rather spend the night with you anyways. You’d tell him that “Foolish, you don’t really have to do this. I thought you were supposed to go the mov-?” and he’d interrupt you “now, that’d a silly thing for me to do, I don’t know why you’re thinking like I’d leave you alone. That’s crazy thinking right there.” And so, you’d just settle for smiling coyly at him and accepting that he’s not going anywhere, and that for some reason (that’s still unclear to you), he’d even blow off his friends for you. And he’d do it over and over again. And he does.

PUNZ:

Ouch, he’s a tough one to get to. But once you breakthrough the walls and the sort of intimidating facade he has, he is all soft for his crush.

Usually he’d be a little reserved and keep to himself, maybe a little closed off. But whenever you’d be around, it’s a whole different thing. He has never smiled so much than he did that one day when you hung around, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the other boys who were also there. Karl would text you about it after you had all gone home and ask you “What did you to punz ?? This man won’t stop cheesin” and Quackity as well would text you “punz today be like ‘😃😃’”. You’d make him happy, you’d just make him love life, just purely by existing and especially when you’d exist in his presence. He’s also extra observant around you, and so you’d catch him looking at you a lot. He’d just rest his chin on his hand and not take his eyes off of you. You’d wonder if there’s something wrong, something on your face perhaps, by the intense way he’s staring at you, but no, he’s just admiring. So let him.

Every picture of himself he’d consider posting on social media, he’d send them to you first and ask you “u like??”. Kind of like a test run. He’d do it ritually almost each time, but if you ever were to call him out for it, asking how come you’re the one he sends them to, he’d claim that it’s just all a coincidence. Sure is... But you better reply back to him as soon as you can, or he would start feeling a little insecure and think if you really like them, because if you do, why haven’t you replied yet? It’s been 20 seconds. Yeah, so, he’s a little clingy too. He just wants to talk to you as much as possible, have you see as much of him as possible, from all of his best angles as well, and maybe fish for a few compliments? Maybe. After you’d reply to him “yes, it’s good”, he’d text you back “nice. now your turn”, and you’d ask him that it’s your turn for exactly what? He’ll tell you then that it’s only fair that you send him a picture of yourself too in that exact moment. And so, it kind of really then becomes a whole ritual that after approving of his picture, you send him one back with a thumbs up or something.

Unlike with anyone else, now that he has taken a massive liking towards you, he’d actually share his food with you. And that’s major. Or, even more major and better, he’d sometimes get you food without you even having to ask, or even without mentioning that you’re hungry. He’d order takeaway for himself, or so you’d think, but he’d then turn up with an extra large portion of food and you’d ask him “damn, are you feeding the whole town?” He’d chuckle a little and then casually tell you that “nah, it’s um, it’s for you.” At that, you could’ve fallen off your seat. Let’s call it his love language to serve you even when you don’t ask for anything.

This man, he would sometimes not show up to plans if you weren’t there. He’d tell his friends that he is only willing to come if you’ll be there too. And if they tell him that you’re not going to be there, then, too bad. He simply just wouldn’t come. Any plans that you’d make without him, he’d call them ‘boring’ and ‘lame’. Sooo, he only is your good time?

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writethrough · 2 months

Note

Can I request a morpheus x reader where his s/o has curly/wavy hair? Or just reader being obsessed with touching his hair and he absolutely love it and he likes to do the same

Mid-Afternoon Dream

(Morpheus x Gender-Neutral Reader)

Synopsis: Morpheus enjoys his moment of peace with you.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 430

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me! I went with the second half of your idea since I like to try and keep Reader as up-to-interpretation as possible. I hope you enjoy!

You were lying on your couch, music playing softly from your record player. Spring was slowly shifting into summer, enough that you had opened your windows to feel the breeze drift through your home.

The early afternoon rays filtered in, and everything seemed brighter and newer in that way only the warm weather brought. For this moment, everything was peaceful.

Even Morpheus couldn’t find fault in it. Not when his head rested on your chest, and you were carding through his hair to the base of his neck. Your nails gently dragging down his scalp to the ends of his strands would’ve made him shiver if he were human.

You’ve been like this for some time now, relaxing in each other's arms. It was a rare moment for the Dream King. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt this content. Though, it’d been happening more frequently since he’d met you.

When he’s working, his mind often wondered to you, what you were doing, when he would see you, it’d become ever the distraction—be it a welcomed one.

He hummed as your nails traced his neck, and you giggled lightly. He squeezed your side in return.

Never had he thought he’d let anyone see him like this, not after all those years in that cage. But there was something in you that called him. He could let his guard down around you. And it was easier than he thought.

You opened your arms to him and all he had to do was step closer.

You placed a kiss on the top of his head, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Have I put the Sandman to sleep?” you teased.

He answered with his eyes closed. “You are the only creature capable of such a feat.”

“You deserve some rest.” He could hear your smile, but there was seriousness, too. It made him lift to his elbow to look at you.

You stared at one another a few moments until you reached out a hand to cup his cheek. Your thumb grazed his skin reverently, seemingly amazed that he was before you now.

The corner of your lips ticked up as you took him in. This otherworldly being that wasn’t really a being at all. He was too perfect. It only made sense that he was a concept, one that provided all with the ability to escape, to wrap themselves in imagination, to set themselves free.

“My Dream,” you whispered, almost like you hadn’t meant to.

His eyes softened. His own hand reached up to caress your hair.

“My heart.”

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avtrbee · 2 years

Text

love game. i

summary: he has never been a good husband, but a century in captivity might change his mind

pairing: morpheus x love!reader

tw: dark!morpheus hehe, mention of rape is you squint but i kinda emphasized that its not? toxic relationships (?)

a/n: gif aint mine. idk where this is fic going. this is the literal example of head empty, no thoughts just my love for men groveling at my feet. hopefully you like them too

“Where is my wife?” he asked, glancing at Lucienne. “Had she abandoned me too? Surely she has sensed me by now…”

His librarian gives him an uncertain look. “My lord, my lady will only come if you summon her. It has been that way for centuries.”

He looks up the ceiling of his palace. There were holes where the roof has fallen, letting sunshine through the throne room. On the damp corners, weeds had slipped through the pristine walls that he had built. His palace looks like a broken heart, thrown away and abandoned. He wonders if this is what she felt like. “Then I summon I shall summon her.”

You came a few seconds after he had said the words.

Lucienne is the first thing you see. She is standing up straight with her hands behind her back- the perfect picture of formality except on her face was a smile wider than you have seen her in a century. Lucienne does not cry, professionalism forbids her so, but you know that if she could he would have tears running down her face in joy. Her heart tells you so. Lucienne’s heart tells you more- the love for her master who has some back.

She bows to you, and steps aside. You cannot help the relief in your face as you see your husband. You blink twice waiting for him to fade away just to be sure. “You’re back,” you whisper in awe, walking towards him quickly. “Forgive me for not coming sooner, my lord, I had to make sure.” Your eyes widen a fraction at your mistake. “Not that I doubted you, husband, I-”

You meet his eyes and you halt. “Are you alright?”

The Dreaming stills. Even in its decaying form its realm remembers its master. Not a single dust threatened to fall, and every speck of dust held its breath. “I was captured.” Dream stares at the ground as he speaks. His voice was a quiet rumble with anger evident in his face.

Captured? You wanted to ask, along with the thousands of questions that bombarded your head. How in the world did an Endless become prisoner? But you held your tongue. Knowing your husband, his pride is wounded and irritable. He is frustrated to retreat to the Dreaming to lick his wounds, and even humiliated that he came back significantly weaker than when he left.

Instead, you swallow the concern down your throat and settled for the sight of him. He looked the same as he had always been, but something has changed. This you are certain.

“Welcome back, Dream Lord.” You greet with a smile and a small bow. It was a smart statement. No mention of his time in absence or your misplaced concern, only your relief that he is back in the Dreaming. You turn your heel to leave, when he spoke up.

“You’re leaving already?”

Your eyes snapped back at him suspiciously. From the corner of your eye you see Lucienne exit the room, but you did not dare to take your eyes off the Dream Lord. He has never complained of your departure before. Some days you think he wishes you left as soon as you arrived. “Yes,” you nod. “I have my duties to attend to. You have called and I have come. I have done your bidding.”

“I-” Something passes in his face, like a shadow of sadness. “That is not what I meant.”

You look at him, confused, but smiled and nodded anyway. “Then how can I serve you, my lord?”

The dream lord looks at you like you had caused him pain. “Love,” he says, and you almost flinch in surprise. He had never said your name so gently before. In fact, you realize that this is the first time you have even heard him say your name. You were only ever ‘wife’, never ‘Love’, you were…nothing. “I…I apologize. I have not been a good husband to you.”

Your mind flies back to the wedding you have blessed before he had summoned you. The groom and the bride looked so happy, so in love. With your blessing you knew their marriage would be a successful one, the kind that would last until the end of their lifetime. If only yours were the same.You quickly shook the thought away from your head. You are not the naive girl you once were.

Instead, you shake your head. For a moment, you wonder if he would forgive you for taking a step towards him, but you decided against it after recalling what had happened last time. “You are not a cruel husband, Dream.”

You have seen first hand what cruelty is. Men and women pray to you constantly to make their spouses love them, if only they would stop hurting them. But your husband had never hurt you. He wouldn’t dare. And you would not let him.

He gives you a rueful smile. “Then what kind of husband am I if my wife can’t even take a step towards me?”

You suck up a breath. So he had noticed that. The king of dreams is not cruel, but he is cold. You had tried once, when you were first married. Arranged marriages rarely bared fruit to love, but there were some exceptions if they tried enough. You had greeted him, every day, sat beside him every morning to break your fast, walked along with him despite his obvious annoyance. For a few years you visited his realm everyday, had greeted his mornings with the sweetest kiss and at the end of your night, opened your legs when he saw fit, letting him take you whenever he wanted. But eventually, you have resorted to only come when he calls you. He never calls because he misses his wife. More often than not, he has a command to give and expected you to obey.

“I realize now that you did not ask for this marriage, and I had forced you into it.” In a surge of courage, he held out his hand silently asking for yours. For the first time in a long time you saw nervousness in his eyes, anxious to see your response. You knew that you had every right to stand still, and no one would fault you for it. But you slowly gave your hand anyway.

You were surprised to know that your husband’s hand was warm. Had you expected him to feel cold? When was the last time you had even touched him? When was the last time he had touched you?

Relief was splattered in his face. Dark eyes lock with yours as he ever so slowly raised your palm to his lips. “How callous have I been to subject Love to a loveless marriage?”

“You did not force me to do anything,” you insist, eyes locked at your hand on his, at the spot his lips had kissed. “You didn’t wish for this marriage either.”

“But I did not have to be so unkind.” Slowly, he dropped your hand to your side and took a step back. You did not know how to feel at the loss of his touch. “In my cage, I had plenty of time to ponder on the things I have normally ignored. I had often wondered how cruel my captors were for keeping me inside my cage for so long but haven’t I done the same to you?”

You gulped.

“Have I not made you feel unwelcome in a realm that is yours as much as it is mine by law? Haven’t I made the Dreaming your cage, Love?” He asked, eyelashes touching his cheek.

“My lord,” you say in alarm as you process his words. “The Dreaming is a haven compared to what you’ve went through. The Dreaming is a haven compared to anything.”

It did not go unnoticed by you both that you did not deny Dream’s first statement. The Dreaming has never felt like home to you for it has given you nothing to be tied down to it. Its wonder had never failed to welcome you every time you visit, but you do not stay too long. Home is warmth, and the Dreaming has always been so cold to you. Home is your own realm, an endless pink sky like a never ending sunset across the horizon.

“Forgive me,” your husband whispers. And to your horror, you watch in shock as the King of Dreams bend down on one knee followed by the other. This time you touch him, not caring about the consequences. You grip his arms and attempt to pull him back up, but he stubbornly remains rooted on the ground.

Your head whips to the exit Lucienne left at and to any other possible entrances to his throne room. It is simply unheard of to have an Endless kneel to someone who is lower to them. You have never even heard of an Endless kneeling before. Your mind races at the thousand possibilities of who might witness your husband beg. Oh, what if Desire came in- ?

“There is no one here, they’ve all gone away in my absence” Dream says, his voice steady like he wasn’t down on his knees for you. “Lucienne is in her library absorbed in her work. You’re all I have left. You’re all I’ve always had. Forgive me, Love.”

Flashes of forgotten cooked meals, cold nights, deserted company and a millennium worth of loneliness flashes in your mind. You have always been so neglected. Is this it, then? Were you to throw away everything because he learned humility after a century?

“There is nothing to forgive, my lord.” You say, eager to get this conversation over and to have your husband just stand up.

“Morpheus,” he corrects with a sad smile. Your response echoes in his head and he did not need confirmation to know that it was a lie. How are you still so loyal? “Then forgive me anyway.” He compromises on your behalf, even when kneeling. He knew you would deny your lie if he asked.

“Alright.”

Your shoulders sag and sigh in sheer relief when Morpheus finally stands back up. You can him from head to toe just to be certain he is well before reminding yourself that your hands are still gripping his leather sleeves. You release them immediately, but he caught you wrists before you could pull away.

You flinch, and his eyes soften in regret. I am not scared, you want to say, I’m just not used to you touching me.

“Have I made you fear me so?” His grip on your wrists in gentle. If you wanted to pull away he would let you. But you let him hold your wrists at the thought that this might be the last time in a long time you will feel him. Might as well relish in it. “I will do better,” he vows. “I will be kinder, more gentle. I will do right by you this time.”

You tug your wrists away from his grasp slowly. “I must return to the waking world, my lord. My duties await me.”

Lie. You hear no prayers, no human calling for your help.

You’ve seen this trick before. You’ve seen mortal men promise the same sweet things to their wives only for them to hurt them once again. A few pretty words is not enough to erase a millennium of memories.

You turn your heel and walk out of his throne room. Morpheus lets you.

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next- love game. ii

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

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shakirawastaken · 1 year

Text

dsmp if... you were a romance trope

i got inspiration (sapnap, dream, george, karl, quackiy, wilbur)

sapnap (hockey x figure skater): - im in the middle of heartbreaker rn and SHUT UP - i LOVE THIS TROPE - IM NOT EVEN A FIGURE SKATER I DO TAEKWONDO BUT I STILL FROTH OVER THIS SHIT - and then in addition to that one tommyinnit is a figure skater and everyone else is on a hockey team “ice these hurts” or smt h like that - i love this trope. - anyway i think that this trope comes hand in hand with enemies to lovers - his hockey team and ur figure skating group are at the same winter sports competiton - and you have to share a rink - booooo - so everyday you end practice with the sight of a bunch of hockey buffs roughhousing in the stands, waiting for you to finish - and everyday a certain brunette one sneers and smirks at you as you walk off the ice - “had a nice practice ice queen/king?” he asks you teasingly - “shut up, yeti” you mutter back gratingly as you bump your shoulder into his build as you pass him - and he comes up with a new one everyday - and you quip right back at him, unphased - one day, he comes into practice early just to spite you - what he wasn’t expecting is to see how good you actually were on the ice - he sat there like “ :O” and just watche dyou glide across the ice with what seemed like barely any effort - and he watched how passionate you were in your craft and the dance - and bro was whipped right then and there - so that day as you were leaving he said “you were amazing out there” and it took u jumpscared - you were like “no insult today?” - and he was like “dang, didnt know u liked them that much ;) but not today, not for something as beautiful as that” - and i think you can guess where it went from there... :)

dream (ceo and employee romance): - AKAIAKAKAHAKH TELL ME YOU SEE THE VISION - i mean hes a ceo alr so its like one step in the door you know - anyway hes a ceo - bro wears those fancy ass suits everyday and has like a wine cellar mini fridge shit thing in his office - any way you pull up to his headquarters one day for like an interview and you were so fucking nervous - you ran into him in the elevator (and no clue who he was) - and you basically vented to him for the 30 second elevator ride before scurrying off to your interview - bro didnt even get dreams name or anything - he kinda just smiled and wished you well as you ran away - he thought you were so cute - and you thought dude was hot as fuck - anyway you got the JOB!! LETS GOO - the next day, your supervisor is like taking u around showing u the works - ....and you meet the ceo - its dream - and youre like :0 and he’s like *smirk wink* ;) “hey” - and youre like “well fuck hes the ceo i cant be in love with him” - and you avoid him - but he makes it his life’s mission to get on ur radar - in the break room, in ur cubicle, in the cafeteria, in the parking lot man is ON YOU LIKE A MOTH TO A LIGHT - eventually he convinces you to go to fancy dinner - and WOW hes paying?? so that shit was FIREEEE - fancy wagyu steak and 102379182 year old wine i mean cmon - it was good ok - he asks you out after dinner and assures u ur job wont be at risk and everything - ba da bing ba da boom - now youre dating happily and he spoils the FUCK outta you - lmk if you want this one as a big fic with dialogue

george (neighbors): - tell me why whenever i have my delulu daydreams with george he’s always a neighbor - very much boy next door vibes - omg HES YOUR COLLEGE ROOMMATE NEXT DOOR - stoppppp - on move in day he pulls up with his family and u with urs and youre like - “hi ! nice to meet you im so exicted to move in!” and bros like “same!” - sometimes hes loud bc hes talking to his friends but you dont mind - hes a cs major and ur whatever u want major - one day you decided to start singing rlly loud while cleaning - ur singing taylor swift - and then george could hear you from the room next door to yours - so he writes up a little post it note that was like “loved the concert! when’s the next one?” and stuck in on your door - you found it and started mad blushign - you had a crush on him since day one awwww - anyways you two started communicating via post it notes and songs played loudly through the walls <3 - till one day you hear boyfriend by big time rush - and then you play girlfriend by avril lavigne back - and then he slips you a post it note under the door and you open the door before you could read it - and its an unspoken like thing that you start dating - its so romantic how you can saw you guys starting dating because of taylor swift !!

quackity (academic rivals): - DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON THIS TROPE IT BRINGS ME LIFE ALRIGHT - alright - two law school students FIGHTING IT OUT ACADEMICALLY - you guys met in ur freshman year english class or some shit - clashed together in a discussion group - and its been game on since then - your texts with each other are flaunting texts - “hey alex, guess who got a 97 on the last midterm?” - “guess who got a 99 ;)” - over time, the texts started getting more and more hostile - people started to thing you two actually hated one another’s guts - but in reality it was more for the thrill - but this continued throughout your law school careers - and you both become successful lawyers in the end!! - and when the headmaster calls you both into his office and says - “youre both valedictorian! congrats! you have to give a speech together” - well its like all the hatred faded away - you grinned and cheezed at each other before giving each other the biggest hug ever - so you both wrote a speech together - and soon the day of graduation came - and q goes at the end “i wouldn’t be here without the person who motivated me through it all, so thank you (y/n)” and youre like “hey man *sob* wtf *sob” - and you kiss him on the cheek and cheer to all the graduates - after the ceremony he catches up to you in the parking lot, grabbing your wrist before you could go off with ur family - and blurts out word soup - and ur like what - and hes like “i really like you, and law school wouldn’t have been the same without you. can we be more than friends?” - and youre like “duhhh” and kiss him right there karl (best friends to lovers): - YOU ARE IN LOVE BY TAYLOR SWIFT - that is the song for this SCENARIO - you two met when you were little kids in like first grade - your friends werent there on that day so you hung out with each other - hooked to the other since then and there - it was always “karl and you” and “you and karl” - you came as a packaged deal - through ups and downs you were there together - you graduated high school together and were going to the same college together now - while karl barely got into any romantic relationships, you seemed to be going through a few of them - you were desperate for a love connection and honestly i aint blaming u - one day after a horrible date he came over to your dorm and u had an impromptu sleepover - you were in karls old shirt and some pajama pants and he was in his pajamas - and you two were just watching a movie together - before he turns to you abruptly, and you turn to look at him - and he’s like “you’re my best friend” - and you saw a switch flip in him - since then, the dynamic between you two changed (for the better) - you became more flirty more touchy - you started to act like you were a couple more and more - one day you saw him open his wallet to pull out his card - and u saw that he has a picture of the two of you in his wallet - and then you knew that he was it for you - you ask him out that night - and hes so happy hes picking you up and spinning you around - <3 wilbur (musician x fan trope): - okay this is inspired by those tik toks that are like “did you see the way he looked at me” and its harry styles staring and eyeing down a fan in the audience like YES - and he’s a musician so it fits! - imagine lovejoy is like a HUGE HUGE Band so maybe this is in the future - anyways you and ur friend go to a lovejoy concert - for the sake of the story, youre not that big a fan of lovejoy just familiar with hits like sex sells and one day - the whole time ur friend is like “theyre so good hes so good its all so good” - you two end up a few rows from barricade - and you and ur friend start screaming it up as you should - youre not oblivious to the way the lead singer keeps looking over in your direction, winking and smiling - imagine a sweaty, singing wilbur glancing over at you during sex sells and giving you a smile as he rasps out “you know sex sells i know that” - brb ascending to heaven - anyway a time comes when he stops to speak to the audience - he wastes no time - he struts over to your side of the stage and points at you - “what’s your name?” - and you scream it at him - “what a lovely name!” - the crowd cheers - “ahre you single?” he asks with a grin on his face - the grin grows when u nod at him - “give me ur number!?” he asks and you nod at him as ur friend is dying next to you - he gestures u and ur friend to the front of the stage by the barricade - and he passes you a marker and make syou WRITE YOUR NUMBER ON HIS GUITAR OR HIS SHIRT OR SOMETHING - oh yeahh go you go you thank yoU! let me know if you want any of these to become a bigger story/imagine and LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART 2 WITH OTHER PEOPLE :D reblogs appreciated

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beeindaclouds · 2 years

Text

DSMP reaction to being kissed when they ramble

Includes: Dream, Georgenotfound, Sapnap, Badboyhalo, Quackity, Karl Jacobs, Wilbur Soot, C!Technoblade, Nihachu, Eret, Punz, FoolishGamers, Awesamdude

Click here before requesting, please ^^

Reader: GN - They/Them

A.N: Did I get this idea from watching Heartstopper again? Yes.

Dream: He just rambles more. Like full on panicking, stuttering and blushing. Man isn't used to someone being overly confident and/or flirty to him cause he's usually the one doing that;

💙💛

Georgenotfound: I take everything I said about George back. He'll be flustered at first, but hide it after with his cocky little attitude. The blush is noticeable tho 👀;

💛💙

Sapnap: Quickly hide his face, you don't need to see him in this state. Even if you try to, man will have his face burried into your neck until his flaming cheeks cool down;

💙💛

Badboyhalo: Bad gets all smiley and happy, and will proceed to pepper your lips w/ happy kisses!;

💛💙

Quackity: I feel like he cherishes these moments w/ you more then anything in the world. So he'll just hold onto your face and stare into your eyes just for a bit...letting time fly by as he gazes in the eyes of his lover

💙💛

Karl Jacobs: Giggles. Just the happiest, cutest ones and will then begin to kiss your entire face for hours w/ no end

💛💙

Wilbur Soot: For some reason I see him being a gentleman in moments like these, so he'll take your hand just so he can leave a soft kiss onto it;

💙💛

C!Technoblade: Techno will pull you into a tight hug right after, as a way to keep you close but also to hide his face. You two will stay like that for a while as the voices make fun of his "soft" side;

💛💙

Nihachu: your kiss last more then you expected and then you'll both pull apart but keeping your forehead on one another. As a way of calming down your beating hearts and taking in the beautiful moment;

💙💛

Eret: They give you a small smile and connect their lips to the top of your head, lingering them longer then they should just to make you feel how much they truely love you and all you do for them;

💛💙

Punz: Man doesn't let you pull away, no sir, he'll pull you right back into the kiss and will pull away only when you are both out of breath. Literal breathtaking kiss 🤭;

💙💛

FoolishGamers: In moments like these he is usually caught of guard, but instead he just holds onto your face so that your kiss could last a little longer. He's a needy boy when it comes to kissing you;

💛💙

Awesamdude: Sam holds onto your face as you two pull away, his lips quickly going for your cheeks and covering both of them in kisses. Mumbles of how much he loves you being thrown in between them.

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dragon-kazansky · 23 days

Text

Heart of the Dreaming

Morpheus x Female Reader

Soulmate AU

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

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Four - Pocket full of sand

☆☆☆

You had been locked away in that house for so long that you had no idea just how much the world had changed. You had never really been to London before, but you were sure even then it had been much different to the London you are in today.

You turn around to see Dream composing himself. He looked a little... tired, dare you say. He looks at you silently.

"You alright?" You ask.

He nods and then turns around. It's dark out, not many people around. He would know Constantine when he saw her. She had his sand.

You stand a good few steps away from him, holding yourself. You didn't bring a coat. You didn't exactly have time to bring anything. You were in a city you couldn't navigate, and your only companion was a strange man who had told you you were his soulmate.

It was a lot to take in one night.

"Constantine."

You turn around to see Dream looking at a woman in a long coat. She doesn't exactly hang about. The conversation is short as she directs his attention to a raven that has landed on the bench behind you. You find yourself confused at its sudden appearance. It seemed to be watching Dream.

"I do not need a raven."

You look at Dream, confused. The man was talking to a bird. Of all the crazy things you've seen so far in regards to this man, this was the craziest.

"Lucienne said you'd say that," the raven spoke.

You stare at the bird with wide eyes. "It's talking?"

"Uh, I'm Matthew," the raven replies.

"It's talking!"

Dream stands beside you and looks down at the raven. He doesn't act like he heard what you were saying. His attention was fully on the bird. "I do not need a raven," he repeats.

"Respectively, sir, you do." Matthew caws.

"Go back to the Dreaming."

"Look, she's got away!" Matthew exclaims, looking behind Dream.

Morpheus turns and finds Constantine has completely vanished from sight. She's made sure to put distance between them.

Dream turns to you. "Fine. You stay here with him. Don't move."

"What?" You look at him with slight panic. He can see it in your eyes.

"Just wait for me."

Dream walks off, and you scoff in disbelief. This man, who is supposedly your soulmate, has the audacity to "rescue" you from your family home and then abandon you in an unfamiliar city? The universe could have chosen someone with more dignity at least to tie you with.

You sit on the bench with a huff. Matthew cocks his head to the side, looking at you intently. You turn and glare at him, causing him to take a few steps away from you along the back of the bench.

"So, uh..." He snaps his beak gently, making a clicking sound, "who are you?"

"No one important," you sigh.

"That can't be true. Wait, are you the woman Lucienne mentioned? She said he had gone off to rescue someone."

"Does everyone know about this?" You ask.

"No? Not that I know of."

"I'm sorry, but how are you talking? You're a bird!" You look at him.

"I don't know. I just... am. I wasn't always a bird, mind you. I was like you once."

"Like me?"

"A human." He cocks his head again.

"Oh... What happened?"

"I, uh... I died."

"Oh... I'm sorry." You frown.

"It's fine. This is my life now." He ruffles his feathers a little. "So, uh... Are you just gonna sit here?"

☆☆☆!!!!!!!

Morpheus finds Constantine within her nightmare. He'd standing there when she woke. She states at him for a good few moments and then speaks. "For fuck's sake." She sighs. "How did you find me?"

"You were dreaming. But it wasn't only a dream, was it? It's a memory. No wonder you do not sleep."

"Maybe I don't deserve to."

"Perhaps not." He says to Constantine. "But I could make it go away."

"Only if I help you find your sand."

"Though finding anything in this place may require more magic than even you can muster."

Joanna falls silent for a moment and then gets up. "I'll look in the office. Try not to clean up while I'm gone."

"I'm coming with you," he says. "You have a gift for disappearing."

"All right. But if the mess in here offends you, wait till you see my office."

The office was so much worse.

Constantine started going through her things, hoping the pouch would pop up somewhere and she could get this over with. She didn't particularly want him hanging around.

"Why do humans love objects so much?" Dream asks.

"They do come in handy sometimes." Constantine tells him. "You seem pretty attached to your sand."

"It's not just an object. It's a part of me."

"If that's true, how'd you happen to lose it?" She asks, looking at him.

"It was stolen by a magic user called Burgess."

"Wait, not Rodrick Burgess? The old demon king himself, eh? Everyone used to say he was a fake. Said he had the Devil locked up in his basement. How the fuck did you..."

She looks up.

"Shit." She walks over to him. "Were you down there? All this time?"

His lack of response was in itself an answer.

Morpheus plucks a set of photos from a box and looks down at them. They picture Constantine and another woman in them.

"Is this you?" He asks.

"Why? Do I look that different?"

"No. Happy."

A moment of silence passes.

"Shit." Constantine whispers. "I know where your sand is."

☆☆☆

Dream had gone all the way to Rachel's apartment. He had first gone to Constantine's, assuming she had the sand there, but it became rather complicated quickly.

Turns out the sand was at her exes. An ex she hadn't seen in quite some time. He was ready to go inside with her, but she told him to wait outside.

She needed to do this alone, apparently. However, he was reluctant to let her out of his sight. She had a tendency to disappear.

While he waited outside, he turned to see you walking around the corner.

"I told you to wait," he scolded. Though you wouldn't say you felt overly threatened by him.

"We got bored."

"We?"

In that moment, Matthew flew down and landed by your feet. Dream was far from pleased. "I told you to wait for me."

"If we're soulmates or whatever, shouldn't I help?" You ask, looking at him just as unimpressed.

"No."

You scoff softly. "You're hard work, you know that?"

Dream says nothing as he stares at you, hands in his pockets. It's Matthew who breaks the awkward atmosphere between you both. He really doesn't know what's going on, and there was very little time to ask about it.

"You know you can't trust her, right? You should really go in there."

Dream shifts his eyes away from you. Matthew had a point.

"Wait here."

This time he was wanting you both. You cross your arms and watch him go inside. You stand there for a moment before slumping down onto the ground.

"That bad, huh?"

"I've known him less than a day, kind of. Well, I've known of him a while. It's complicated. Soulmates or whatever. I don't care about some stupid divine bond." You sigh.

"So, it's legit? The soulmate thing, I mean."

You lower your wrist to his level and show him the scar. "I got this the day I first set eys on him. Sometimes, it burns. Though it hasn't for a bit. It's what binds me to him, I think."

"Hm. So, why do I sense so much anger toward him?" Matthew caws.

"He's insufferable. We have this weird bond, and he has the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. He rescued me less than an hour ago, and now we're off on some strange quest to get... sand?"

"Well, yeah. Lucienne told me about that. He's getting his tools back," Matthew says.

"His tools?"

"His sand, his helmet, and his ruby."

"I'm so lost."

"How do I put this? Lord Morpheus is the dream lord. He is king and creator of the Dreaming, his realm. His tools include a pouch of sand, a helmet, and a ruby. Without them, he doesn't have much of anything."

You listen to Matthew speak. "I see."

"It's important he gets them back."

"I've gathered that much. I just... I don't see why I have to be part of any of this. Fine, I'm not going to grow old and die, but do I have to stay with him?"

"I don't think he's going to just let you go," Matthew caws.

"Why not? He doesn't need me."

Matthew goes quiet.

Constantine leaves the apartment and walks off, looking not so perky anymore. Not long after, Dream comes out and follows the direction she went in slowly.

You rise from the ground and watch them. He hadn't even glanced your way. Matthew goes on ahead to join the two. You keep your distance, watching them talk.

Constantine says something to Matthew, and then she looks up at you. She stares at you for a while and then turns and walks away under her umbrella.

Dream looks at the pouch in his hand and then looks up at you. "You're still here."

"You told me to wait."

"You could have run," he says flatly.

You glance at Matthew, who looks up at you. What he said earlier flashes before your mind. Dream probably wouldn't really let you go. "Yeah, well... whatever."

Dream stares at you in heavy silence. You hate it. You hate the way he looks at you. You hate the way he doesn't say anything. You can't say you're all too fond of him either.

"Stop looking at me."

Dream turns his eyes back to the pouch. "Come here."

You sighed and walked over to him, standing where Constantine had been standing just moments before.

"So, where are we going next?" You ask.

"Hell."

"Hell? Like metaphorical Hell or... Hell Hell?" Matthew caws.

Dream stares at you silently, and you swallow nervously. "Hey, I didn't agree to... that!"

"My helm is in Hell."

"I don't care. Hell? That's crazy." You yell at him quietly.

He just stares. He slowly raises his pouch and opens his other hands. He gives you time enough to walk away, but you don't. You know what he's doing. He pours the sand into his waiting palm, and it flows around the three of you in a blanket.

There really was no going back now.

☆☆☆

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

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

@rubyrose2014 - @lorkai - @roxytheimmortal - @star-maker-rain-dancer - @intothesoul - @gemini-mama - @whotperlinda

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

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 - @hopshusushi -

#heart of the Dreaming #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman #female reader #dragon writes

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withoutyouimsaskia · 7 months

Text

Don't Stop (Sandman One-Shot)

GIF: Originally posted by @imironstark

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Smut. You and Morpheus are in the exploratory stages of your relationship. Morpheus asks to worship you, and all is going well. At least, that is, until you start to wake up...

Warnings: Minors DNI. Smut. Porn with plot. Kissing. Oral sex (AFAB receiving). Slight dominant Morpheus.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: So I watched Sweetbitter. With my partner. Maybe not the best idea because suppressing the squeaks of excitement whenever Tom came on screen was tough and not always 100% effective! The hyper fixation is still going strong... Hope you enjoy this one. All my love, Saskia xxx

Sandman Masterlist

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

It is only when the violent spinning not only stops but holds for several minutes after, does Morpheus make steps in allowing his guard to drop.

He straightens elegantly out of his crouching position, withdrawing his hands from the scree smattered earth. He looks to his left, to Lucienne, who is warily regarding the ground and sky, wondering if they might start to rapidly switch places again.

She meets Morpheus' gaze and adjusts her round-framed spectacles with a steady hand.

"I might be speaking too soon, sir, but I truly think it is over now."

Morpheus takes one last steely appraisal of the horizon, almost daring it to misbehave.

He nods once. "I believe you are correct, Lucienne."

"Will you be requiring anything else from me, my lord?"

"Not at present."

"Very well," Lucienne replies with a warm smile. "I will return to the palace now."

She does a little incline of the head in deference and goes to start the winding walk back towards the glowing lights of the Dreaming's seat of power.

Morpheus calls to his friend.

"I thank you for your persistence in supporting me to resolve these issues. I suggest you take some extra hours to rest."

"I suggest you do the same, sir."

Though her reply is innocuous, the knowing gleam in Lucienne's brown eyes hints at an alternative interpretation, one that Morpheus cannot help but notice.

It was becoming generally well known that he was in the early stages of courtship with a dreamer, you, and there was no doubt that Lucienne was aware of how far the relationship with you had recently gone.

He raises an eyebrow in response, earning a grin from Lucienne and then he watches her walk away.

Once alone, Morpheus allows his eyes to flutter closed as he sifts through the myriad of dormant minds and tunes into the space occupied by yours. He takes a reading of your emotions, thankful to find that you are contented and have not been rendered feeling neglected by his absence.

There's a faint undercurrent lingering below the surface level of your emotions that he is also able to lock on to given the familiarity that you share.

Desire.

They are present, filling you with neediness and longing.

A longing to be touched, to be touched by him.

Morpheus is with you in seconds, appearing in the doorway of the room you have chosen to conceal yourself in.

You are curled up in a large armchair by a panoramic window that frames the mountainous vista beyond. The torches that mark equidistant points along the bridge leading to the palace project a soft gleaming warmth over your skin. You are gazing softly at the landscape, the fingertips of one hand combing through your hair, the others trailing up and down your inner thigh.

Such an innocent yet provocative display. It makes Morpheus' voice drop to an even deeper and more sultry register than usual as he calls to you.

You are out of the chair instantly, meeting him at the threshold of the room. Your heart pumps out an allegro drum beat, the sound of the blood rushing in your ears like a waterfall.

You are pulled into a searing kiss, arms encircle your waist to ensure you are flush against his hips and chest. It is a relief that he is holding you in such a way for your knees are threatening to give out within seconds.

The power he has, in his body, his actions, through his words, in a metaphysical sense; you are helpless against them all.

When Morpheus pulls away from the kiss, you follow him on instinct, aching for more. He smiles faintly at your eagerness but maintains the gap in order to explain his length of absence.

"I must apologise, Y/N. The issue was a little more complex than Lucienne and I had anticipated."

He's looking down with a tint of shame in his aquamarine eyes.

You slide your hands up his forearms, gripping tightly and angling your head so you can capture his gaze.

"There is nothing to be sorry for. Your work and the safety of your dreamers take priority."

He simply nods. Your unwavering understanding is always on the side of overwhelming for him.

You register this in his stance.

"You feel a little tense. I can help with that if you want. Like I did last night?"

You move a hand up to stroke the hair on the back of his head. It is a form of touch that never fails to release tension.

Morpheus indulges in your attentions for a bit, leaning into you and sighing deeply, before staring at you directly with sudden seriousness.

"I cannot deny that what you did for me yesterday was beyond exquisite," He leans in to speak by your ear. "But it is my turn to worship you."

"Oh," you swallow down your surprise. "Okay."

Morpheus wastes no time in guiding you back towards the armchair and sits you on the very edge of the seat pad.

He carefully removes his long sweeping coat and then drops to his knees before you.

His rosy lips are parted, eyes dark pools, both standing out against his beautifully pale skin.

"Where can I touch you?" He asks urgently.

"Everywhere," you reply as the flutterings in your stomach warble your voice.

He begins by trailing his hands up your legs. The patterns he draws are intricate and intoxicating.

"May I have the honour of tasting you?"

"Yes," you consent, breathless already.

You remove your trousers and underwear in the same movement and allow Morpheus to adjust your position.

The image of him looking up at you with lust and intent as he parts your legs is immediately imprinted deep within your memories.

He trails innocent kisses up your left calf to your knee. A long-fingered hand is hooked under it and once Morpheus slips your leg over his shoulder, he continues his path along your inner thigh.

Wisps of his midnight hair tickle your skin and make you squirm in the most delicious way. You whimper when you feel his cool breath hit your pulsing core.

Morpheus speaks your name reverently, a taster of what was about to come.

He leans in the last few inches and kisses your vulva. You melt with an ecstasy-filled exhale. His tongue gently licks at your labia, encouraging them to part and expose your clit. He laps at you with precise strokes before sealing his mouth over the nub.

It's like a direct current has been shot into your body; you jolt into him, moaning his name with abandon.

He hums against you, lips curling into a naughty smirk. You are completely at his mercy and he knows it all too well.

He manipulates your clit between his plush lips and the pleasure reaches a higher ground.

"Whatever you do, please don't stop," you beg.

Morpheus obeys, slowly increasing and decreasing the pressure of his suckling until you are almost unable to think clearly anymore.

Then, suddenly, you are distracted by a strange feeling radiating through your body. You recognise it with immediacy. It's like you are being dragged upwards by a marionette string. You are waking up.

You stiffen, falling silent, hoping above all hope that if you stay still, you can stave off the pull back to consciousness.

Morpheus, noticing your change in demeanour, stops his attentions and pulls away.

He speaks your name in a caring tone, "Are you alright?"

You grab the arm rests in a further attempt to keep yourself in the Dreaming. The sensation isn't letting up.

You respond with haste, "I think I'm waking up. I don't think I can stop it."

Waking had been the cause of cutting short your time with Morpheus many times before. It was to be expected; you were a human being with things like sunlight and birdsong and routines to contend with. The worst had been mid-way through a conversation, one that you were able to pick up again the next time you passed the Dreaming threshold.

Right here while Morpheus was working on you so perfectly, however left you with one thought: Why did it have to be now?

Your surroundings flicker and all sound becomes warped. The support of Morpheus' body and the chair vanish.

"I'm sorry." They are the last words you speak before you disappear.

You come to in the semi-darkness of your bedroom. Your chest is heaving and wetness has spilled onto your pyjamas from the dream of Morpheus lavishing your aroused core.

Your phone is blasting out a morning alarm, its shrillness the clear root of you disappearing on him.

It turns out though, initially unknown to you, that Morpheus was having none of this separation business. That is until you notice him sitting between your splayed legs.

"Morpheus?! What are you -"

"You asked me not to stop, my dearest dreamer," he interrupts, pouring every ounce of seductive energy into the words as he can muster.

Morpheus' eyes bore into yours as he climbs up to fully straddle your body. He reaches over you to turn off the alarm with a precise tap on the screen of your phone. He takes a deep breath.

"Much better," he purrs. The pitch of his voice is pleasure enough on its own, even without the fact that his hips are subtly grinding against yours.

"Now, would you like to resume with what we were doing before we were so rudely interrupted by that repugnant tone?"

You nod.

"Verbal consent, please."

It's suddenly so hard to speak now he is in your bedroom, your domain. You hope that a clear display will be an acceptable alternative. You reach your hands down to rid yourself of your pyjamas only to have each wrist pinned either side of your head.

You gasp.

"I need to hear you say it out loud, Y/N."

Another wave of hot, stifling arousal is released between your legs. You shiver in reaction to it, to his dominance.

Your mouth is open but no coherent words leave it, just the starts of failed sentences. Morpheus comes to your aid:

"Will you allow me to taste you here, in the waking world, just as I did in my own realm?"

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes, Morpheus. Please. Put your mouth on me."

He hums his approval before lowering your shorts and beginning to feast on you once more.

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

Tag List: @herfantasyworldd @shadowqueen1318

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lilywastaken · 1 year

Text

⇝ SICK DAY SCENARIOS !

CC!DreamWasTaken, CC!Sapnap, CC!GeorgeNotFound, CC!Quackity, CC!Karl Jacobs x GN!Reader.

SUMMARY: taking care of CCs when they're sick :( <3.

WARNINGS: SFW, a few spicy moments here and there, illness, a tiny drop of angst in Karl's part!

A/N: I'm alive!! The brainrot is real for these guys so I just had to write something, even if it's a bit crap LMAO. It's my first time writing for Karl/Quack, so they might be a bit weird/stiff, apologies! Once again, requests are open!! Please don't forget to reblog/comment if you enjoy the post, it helps a lot!! Thank you for reading! <333 If you see any mistakes, do not hesitate to let me know, please!!! I wrote this quite late so there might be a few!

MASTERLIST.

DREAM:

"Feeling a bit better?"

You whisper softly as you open the door to your boyfriend's bedroom, noticing that he had made his way off his bed and onto his chair, legs up and pressed to his chest with his knees tucked under his chin, the bright screens of his monitors reflecting onto his sad face.

"Mm…"

His broken whimper makes you sigh, walking over to him carefully and placing the bowl of chicken soup next to his keyboard, leaning down to press a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

"You should be resting."

You're about to lean back until Dream grabs your arm, his pointer finger coming up to tap his lips, hopeful eyes staring up at you.

"Clay. You're ill."

"Which means you're refusing to kiss your poor, suffering boyfriend?" He sighs dramatically, his voice deep yet nasally due to his stuffy nose, leaning into your touch as your hand comes up to cup his cheek.

"Are you ready to take care of me when I inevitably get sick, sweetheart?" You coo back, watching his expression morph from one of self-pity to one of dread.

"O-of course." He mumbles, hoping you don't remember how stressed he was when George had gotten sick a few weeks ago, running around the house looking for medicine in hopes that his friend wouldn't die. "Still… What if the cure to my sickness is a kiss from my beautiful partner?"

"Oh?" You play along with a smile, your hand coming up to play with his hair and run your fingers through his dirty blond curls, watching him flutter his eyes closed to enjoy your touch with a smile, half expecting him to start purring. "Well…" You sigh dramatically in defeat, leaning down so that the tips of both your noses are bumping. "I guess if it helps."

Dream makes a soft noise of excitement before you press your lips to his, his soft hand holding your head to his to slot your lips together easily.

"Now get to bed." You snap as soon as you pull back, causing him to huff and pause whatever video he had been watching.

"Fine." He grumbles like a child, lifting himself up and taking a few moments to make sure he isn't about to collapse before turning to you, letting you lead him to his mattress, onto which he immediately collapses on with a loud groan.

He situates himself under the covers and outstretches his arms to you expectantly, yet instead of your warm body he finds himself holding the bowl of soup you had brought.

You press a kiss to his forehead as he begrudgingly starts to sip on the soup, his gaze softening as he realises you're not about to leave his side.

Needless to say, the next day you were as ill as he was.

SAPNAP:

A loud groan resounds across the house.

You try your best to ignore it, going back to scrolling through your phone and scratching behind Patches' ears.

Another groan, louder this time, finally brings your attention away from social media and back to reality, frowning at the unending dramatic groans that come from your boyfriend.

You sigh, carefully pushing Patches off and starting your trek upstairs, listening to the borderline fake sounds coming from inside the room.

"You sound like you're dying."

You comment as soon as you push open the door to his bedroom, rolling your eyes with a smile as you meet your boyfriend's gaze, his lower lip curled into a pout as he makes grabby hands at you, his bed covered in what you assume to be snotty tissues.

"I am dying, darlin'. Feels like I'm being ripped apart."

You laugh, making your way towards him and sitting on the edge of the bed, and placing your hand onto his forehead, frowning instantly at how hot he feels.

"Wait, are you actually sick?"

"Yes!" Sapnap whines, throwing his head back and slamming it accidentally onto the wooden headboard, whining at the additional pain. "You thought I was fakin'!?"

"I wouldn't put it past you." You grumbled, wiping some of the sweat on his face with your sleeve, watching him try to adjust in his bed just to be closer with you. "What hurts?"

"Everything." He sighs out, closing his eyes in pain as his head throbs.

"Everything?" You repeat, unamused, already getting up to retrieve an ice pack from downstairs, hoping to cool down the fever he seems to have caught.

"Yes, every-" his eyes snap open as soon as he feels the bed shift, whining. "No, don't leave!"

"Nick, I need to get you something for your fever!"

You struggle against Sapnap's grip as he pulls you into his lap, arms wrapped around your waist and stubble scratching against your cheek.

"No… all I need is you, darl'." He grumbles against your skin, peppering sloppy kisses onto your neck.

"You're delirious." You sigh, melting into his warmth as he pulls you under the covers, sniffling and whining with every move he makes. "You'll take some medicine later, right?"

"Mhm … yeah." He says drowsily as he starts to fall asleep right there, listening to your breathing as a means to calm himself down. "Anything for you, sweetheart."

GEORGE:

How can George still be asleep?

You think to yourself as you stare mindlessly into the TV, the plate of food you had been eating abandoned on the coffee table as you take note of how long it had been since you had seen your boyfriend after last night.

You know he's prone to sleeping in for long, but not this long. Especially now in Florida, where the sun rises earlier and helps him wake up at the same time as you and your roommates.

Once you give your half eaten plate to Dream, you carefully push open the door to your boyfriend's room, stopping for a few moments so your eyes get used to the darkness his room was covered in.

"George? Are you awake?"

Treading carefully so you don't trip on any loose cables or stuff that he might have tossed onto the ground, you finally reach his bed, kneeling next to him and placing your hands on the body beneath the covers and shaking softly.

"Georgie?"

"Hmng."

You feel him turn around, meeting his gaze despite the darkness around you, watching as his pained expression turns into one of relief.

"Hi…" He mumbles, voice coarse as if he had just finished screaming for over an hour, reminding you of that one time he had lost his voice after a particularly long stream. "Time…?"

"Almost 4." Your hand comes up to push back his bangs, a shiver racking through his body as your cool touch makes contact with his atypically hot skin. "What th- do you have a fever?"

"I think." You feel his arms creep around your waist, pulling you closer with abnormal strength and placing his head onto your lap, snuggling himself into your thighs, letting out a shaky sigh at the warmth. "Tried getting up this morning and I think I passed out."

That would explain the crash Sapnap had claimed to have heard early in the morning.

"You passed out? Why didn't you call me?" You whisper back, running your fingers through his hair and massaging the back of his neck, a spot you know always gets him weak. "We could've brought you downstairs so you weren't cooped up like this."

George laughed as the image of Dream and Sapnap dragging him downstairs came to mind, but the sudden stabbing pain that attacked his lungs caused him to start coughing with a whine.

"I'd rather just stay up here with you." He started to manhandle you to lie under the covers, his hands warm on your hips as he quite basically shoved his face into your chest, trying to calm his raging headache. "We can order something later… I just want to be with you for now."

You chewed on your lower lip before your hands came up subconsciously to bury themselves in his soft locks, a whine leaving his lips as your nails started scratching at his scalp. "Fine. Just for a bit, okay? You still have to eat, we got to get you medicine, and you probably stin-"

You squeaked as he nipped on your skin in an attempt to get you to shut up, rolling your eyes at the smirk on his pretty lips before he fluttered his eyes back closed, a silent way of telling you that he was going back to sleep.

QUACKITY:

"You're an idiot."

Your boyfriend sputters out a confused sound as he walks into the kitchen, not having expected to be instantly insulted first thing in the morning.

"Huh?"

"Why are you half-naked!? You're sick!" You point at his feet and then his shorts with your spoon, making him groan and roll his eyes.

"It's hot!" He throws his arms up in the air as he sits down at the kitchen island, ignoring the way you frown at him. "And I'm not sick. I'm fine. It's just a cold."

"That still counts as being sick." You mumble under your breath, pushing a plate of food in his direction before pulling off your hoodie (which casually happened to be his) and handing it to him. "Put it on. I don't want you getting worse."

"...fine." He mumbles, starting to eat once it's on. "Thank you, mi vida."

Your face heats up at the casual nickname, nodding as you start on your own breakfast, too busy scrolling on your phone to notice the way your boyfriend starts squirming in his seat, sweat dripping down his forehead as he tries to focus on his food.

"You alright?" You finally realise how sick he looks despite having looked fine mere moments before, face flushed and skin sickly pale as he wipes the sweat away with his hoodies sleeves.

"Mhm. Okay." Your hand reaches over to cup his cheek, almost flinching back at how hot his skin feels. "Jesus! You're so fucking hot!"

You instantly regret what comes out of your mouth at his cocky expression, watching him m lean into your hand and sigh dreamily, eyelashes fluttering open and closed as he speaks.

"You think I'm that hot, babe?" He purrs out, despite the absolute pain that's racking through his body at the minute. "Damn, didn't expect you to be bold."

"Shut up." You pinch his cheek, forcing a high pitched cry to leave his mouth as you turn around to look through the medicine cabinet. "I meant you're literally hot, Alex."

"So you think I'm not figuratively hot?" You refrain from the urge to groan at his teasing, pulling off the cap to some medicine and dropping a pill into a glass of water.

"If you keep acting like this, you'll be less than hot to me." You snap, handing him the drink and waiting for him to down it like he usually does when it comes to ill-tasting medicine. "Go lie down, I'll make you some soup."

Before you can leave, he grabs your arm, pulling you into the space between his open legs and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"With me?" He mumbles into your hair, causing you to roll your eyes at how clingy he's become. "Come on, cielo. We can just order soup."

"But will it be as good as my soup?" You brush some of his longer strands of hair away from his eyes and trace the invisible lines between the beauty marks on his face.

"No… but I'd take cold soup any day of the week if it means having you in my arms."

KARL:

"Your nose is running."

You comment as you watch your boyfriend sluggishly make his way towards the fridge, eyes barely open and sweatpants almost falling down his waist.

"Mhm."

He doesn't even acknowledge your words, digging through the countless cans in the fridge to pull out some orange juice, instantly downing it without a second thought.

"Sorry. You want some?" He slurs, extending his arm and offering you the carton.

"Just finish it, Karl. I'd rather not get sick."

You notice that instead of his normal sleeping shirt he has a button up on, the buttons all messed up from probably trying to do it on his own in the bathroom mirror.

"You going somewhere, baby?" You comment on his appearance, frowning as he instantly nods, throwing the carton into the bin before looking for some snacks.

"Filming with Jimmy." He casually says, as if he hadn't been battling with a fever for almost a week. "I volunteered yesterd-"

You slap your hand over his mouth, stopping him from talking and meeting his shocked gaze, feeling his hands immediately find place on your waist out of instinct at how close you are.

"You're not going anywhere, Karl. I don't want you to get worse." You comment with a frown, having half expected him to lick at your hand when you had covered his mouth, but the sad look in his eyes feels worse than how that would've. "Please. You've been in pain for almost a week, I just want you to get better."

You let go of his face, moving your hand to cup his cheek and watch him press into your touch, nodding solemnly.

"Just don't like being useless. I wanna do stuff, I want to help!" He whines, closing his eyes as if afraid of your reaction to his complaint.

"You're not useless, though. You're sick. I'm taking care of you because I love you and I want you to get better. Jimmy's your friend, he'll probably won't want you working while you're sick, either." You lean up to press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a comforting hug, his cool hands roaming your skin under your shirt. "So get back into your pyjamas and get to bed and I'll bring you some food, okay? Then we can watch a movie, whichever one you want."

He nods enthusiastically, taking his turn to cup your cheeks in his hands and pepper kisses all over, brushing your lips with his before pulling away, aware of how sick you'd get if he gave you what he had. "I love you!" He says before rushing back upstairs giddily, not even waiting for you to say it back, aware that even without saying it, you do.

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thoughtsfromlayla · 3 months

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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.

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

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“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.

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

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

Until the next fic,

♡ Yours, Layla

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman fanfic #the sandman x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x reader #morpheus smut #lord morpheus #morpheus x reader smut #the sandman x reader smut #dream x reader smut #sandman smut #sex pollen #aphrodisiac #no plot whatsoever

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 2 years

Text

heavenly. ~ morpheus x reader (18+)

Summary: There are no words for how heavenly the sight of Morpheus falling apart underneath you is. II smut

Words: 719

Warnings: smut smut smut

Pairing: Morpheus x fem!Reader

Head thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted, hair tousled – a memory of your hands gripping it when he slid inside of you –, Morpheus is a sight for the Gods as you move on his lap.

The sounds escaping his mouth when you leave a trail of kisses on his neck are downright heavenly and the way he grabs your thighs, fingers burying themselves into the softness of them, makes you shiver.

The moonlight dimly illuminates his pale face and the stars and galaxies move slowly in the inside of his coat that he spread underneath you. When your name falls from his lips, soft and murmured like a prayer not meant for your ears, he shows you his true essence for the first time, becoming the very definition of a dream.

You lean back, looking for support on his legs, to see him better, to drink up his presence, drown in his sounds, melt in his touch.

“You’re distracted.” It’s a statement or an accusation, you’re not sure but it bothers you nonetheless. You don’t want him talking, you want to hear what sounds you can draw out of the Endless with the simple movement of your hips.

His eyes are now open, hands holding on even tighter. You don’t stop and feel him shudder. “I’m watching you,” you whisper into the night, a smile tugging on your lips. “Not such a bad idea after all, wasn’t it?”

He hears the challenge in your tone, the spark in his eyes tells you and the raspy tone confirms it. “I still prefer you underneath me, my love.”

You roll your eyes and your rhythm changes. You speed up, hips moving in the most delicious way and it makes him fucking moan. “Keep telling yourself that,” you chuckle, knowing full well that he will get back at you for this later on. But now, he is too occupied with the way you feel all around him.

Your breath hitches when he presses you down onto him and his hips rock up. A curse leaves your mouth that turns into whimpers and soft moans as he moves with you. One of his hands travels down but you push it away. He groans.

“Later,” you murmur. Now, you want to see him being lost in you, want to see him unravel. The thrill that rushes through your body feels unreal – it’s the pure thought of the God of Dreams, an Endless, falling apart from your touches, that turn you on even more.

Morpheus is close, you can feel it. His voice grows darker, his moans louder, and in your own body, the knot tightens. It tightens and tightens and when his movements begin to lose control, become more erratic with each thrust, it doesn’t take long for you to see stars in front of your eyes. You come, soft and trembling, back arching and with his name on your lips. He follows you shortly after and fuck, you just know that the image of him will never leave you again.

The waves of your orgasm wash over you and suddenly you lack any strength to hold yourself up any longer. He wraps an arm around you when you sink down to rest on his chest. He’s still breathing heavily, even when his fingers trace lazy lines on the skin of your body. You smile.

“You are awfully proud of yourself right now, aren’t you?”

The smile only widens at his words. “I have every right to be, Dream Lord,” you tease him. “I proved you wrong.”

He laughs silently underneath you. “Did you now?”

“Mhh,” you make and prop yourself up on the elbows. “Admit it, you loved having me on top of you.”

He watches you, mischief in his eyes. “Not more than having you underneath me.”

“As if. I believe the whole Dreaming heard you just now.”

He moves quick. So quick that you can’t help but yelp as he flips you over, pinning your wrists above your head. His lips hover about yours, his breath a ghostly touch, and your heart starts to beat faster. “My love, it doesn’t matter if they heard me. They didn’t hear you,” he murmurs, “and I believe that is the true shame here.”

They hear you after that, Morpheus makes sure of that.

thank you for reading! <3

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#the sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #sandman x you #sandman fanfiction #morpheus imagine #sandman imagine #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman morpheus x reader #the sandman morpheus x you #the sandman dream of the endless x reader #sandman x reader #dream x you #sandman x reader smut #morpheus x reader smut #the sandman x you smut

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auroraborealyss · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬' 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐈.

⊹ pairing: morpheus x reader

⊹ summary: the much awaited, i-went-to-hell-for-inspiration, morpheus' love languages part 2: nsfw version. how he expresses his love languages when fucking you

⊹ tags: nsfw, morpheus is an adoring, reverent, woman-worshipping Endless who's always on his knees, the king of dreams is a giver

⊹ warnings: explicit language, explicit content (obviously), minors stay back (not that ever stopped me. if you are a minor, just know that sex might not be like this and do more research)

⊹ word count: 3027

⊹ previous part: morpheus' love languages part i.

⊹ now playing: take me to church by hozier

words of affirmation though he isn't the most vocal as an Endless, he does become vocal as a lover. or, specifically, he wants you to be. remember when i said he likes it when you talk to him? this applies here. (of course, by the time he's done with you, you won't be able to form words. but he'll accept desperate mewls of his name.)

call him by his name

not dream, but morpheus

gasp, groan, grunt, scream, whimper, murmur — every adjective of ‘said’ — say it in that way. he loves when you say his name and he the different ways you say it is akin to music. and if you whisper it right in his ear, his name hot against him so he can feel your desperation, he might just give you what you want and fuck you harder and faster

you tried to hold your moans back once

biggest mistake of your life

it doesn’t matter if you were only trying to hold back because you were in the library and mervyn, lucienne, and matthew were just three shelves down having a very serious meeting

though normally private in pda, perhaps that day morpheus was too frustration in being king and just wanted to be your lover. only a king had to worry about looking good in front of others. as your lover, all he had to worry about was pleasing you, and hearing the sounds you make was his signal that he was doing well

you thought that the sound of the shelves being rocked, your heavy breathing, and a book falling every now and then was telling enough what you were doing, and yes, you were a bit embarrassed to be found in such a compromising position with your skirt bunched up to your waist, one leg hooked around morpheus, and your head tilted to the sky as he attacked your neck

so when you bit down on your lip and slapped a hand over your mouth to hide your moans?

he is insulted (and you know how petty he gets) and fucks you even harder and faster than before

hoists both of your legs around his waist so he’s even closer and hits a spot in you that has you moaning obscenely and seeing stars. there’s no use hiding or explaining that away, but you don’t even think of the others anymore. all you can focus on is how he slams repeatedly into you again and again, one had rubbing furious circles on your clit, whispering orders in your ear to never deprive him of your sounds ever again

that as his lover, he owns every part of you (he definitely owns me), including those delicious sounds he purposefully and rightfully earns

and when you start making those sounds again, he is so fucking pleased with himself that he gets even harder

your hand falls from your mouth on its own and finds his hair, tugging on it, harder and harder as you reach your peak and he follows shortly after when you clench around him—all done with a loud cry of his name from you and your name coming out as a pleading grunt from him

when the two of you finally catch your breath, you peek around the shelves and find them gone

morpheus smirks at you before dragging you to the table for part two since “they’re not here anyway.”

always asks for consent

no matter how caught up he is in his emotions or pleasure, always asks you if you’re doing alright and if he’s doing alright touching your body

this man has a praise kink. tell him he’s doing well

tell him he’s fucking you so good as tears run down your cheeks and he’ll all but cum in you in that moment

tell him you were made for him as he bottoms out in you, and he’ll flip you over to your stomach and have his way and ruin you, leaving you a rambling mess who’s only coherent thought is his name

“you can take a little bit more of me, can’t you?” he whispers against your ear as you bite your lip to hold back your whimpers as he pushes inch by inch further, deeper, closer, into you. “you’ll do that for me?”

“you’re gonna make me cum” > “i’m going to cum”

he’ll make you squirt in thanks for reminding him that you’re orgasm is a product of his hard work

did you see how he pleaded with calliope to let him help her? imagine him begging to let him make you feel good

"i can make you feel so good, my love," he whispers as he puts one nipple in his mouth, suck and bite it gently, tugging on it, before releasing it and going to the other one. "let me?"

praise talk is his dirty talk. more into overstimulation and praise rather than edging and degradation cause he’s too in love with you to ever say those things or have you think, even for a second, that you are anything less than too good for him

type of person to say “i love you” as he fucks you

at the most intense moments, like when he’s about to orgasm, he mindlessly rambles out pleads for you to always stay with him and he needs you and you’re the only thing he needs (say less)

so tell him you need him. tell him only he can make you feel this good. because he’s definitely a giver, and the best compliment you can give a giver is to thank them for their service and tell them they’re doing a good job

physical touch this is an Endless who falls hard and intensely in love, as we see with his past lovers. it stands to reason that he'd fuck the same way. he makes sure that he is touching every inch of your body and you are touching every inch of him

has a thing for walls

likes to fuck you against them. either your back to it with your legs wrapped around his waist, or the side of your face pressed against it with your hands on either side as he takes you from behind

he will also eat you out with your back against a wall. makes it his personal mission to make your legs woozy enough that you literally collapse and he has to hold you up or you’re falling on the ground

overstimulation

worships your body

kissed every inch of your body once

on the days that you don’t feel the most confident, he’ll whisper his gratitude towards those parts against your skin until you believe him

is still a sucker for eye contact

looks up through his lashes as he eats you out

looks down at you as he fucks into you

but just because he wants to be gentle and passionate with you, doesn’t mean you can’t be rough with him. in fact, he welcomes it

tug his hair hard as he eats you out and you’ll hear the most guttural groan which you’ll feel vibrate in your cunt

dig your nails down his back and his hips will snap against yours in a speed that reminds you your lover is not a man, but an Endless

suck and bite his neck and enjoy watching him gasp and tighten his grip against your hips, enough to leave his handprint on your skin

however, there is one time you can elicit some roughness from him, and that’s when you ride him

you’ve ridden him on his throne

it was your idea the first time, and his idea every time after

legs on either side, his arms wrapped desperately against your waist as you slam down onto him and he slams up against you

he grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs your head backwards (see gif as example), exposing the column of your neck which he can mark and litter with kisses and bites

a very passionate lovemaker and puts emotions other than lust into it. when you two have sex, he doesn’t just do it to get rid of frustration or because he feels lust for you, but because he loves you enough to want to share this other part of him that so few get

is the type to link your hands together while he slides in and out

presses his forehead against yours when on top of you. he expects you to do the same when you’re on top

if he’s not waiting at your cunt with an open mouth as you orgasm, then he’s kissing you, as if to swallow the sounds of pleasure you make and further drowning in you

can unclasp your bra with one hand

pulls your underwear down with his teeth

bites on thighs

and neck

and chest

i’m not saying this man cries during sex (not that there’s anything wrong with that). but he does constantly have glassy/teary eyes during the show, so don’t be surprised if he gets a bit overwhelmed with his feelings for you and shed a tear or two

just kiss it away

acts of service he's always worshipped you before his capture, but after, he turns into a sinner looking for absolution from the only higher being he'd beg from. and the first step to absolution is looking for it on his knees

the first time you have sex after you reunite, he begs for forgiveness for being gone from you so long in his throne room

sits you on his throne and sinks to his knees before you

doesn’t even bother locking the door because he has no shame in anyone seeing him beg for absolution to you

and he doesn’t hold back from it either, alright? this Endless is making the most obscene noises as he loudly slurps and groans at the taste of you and moans at the sounds of you and ruts against his throne at the feeling of you, you, you

the first time you cum, he doesn’t stop and keeps fucking you with his tongue until he triggers a second one less than a minute later

he’ll add a finger soon enough

crooks it at just the right spot that it presses against the spongy part of you that makes your back arch off the throne and cum for the third time. at this point, your cum has started to drip off his throne, and he thinks about adding it as a design to his chair (you slap him on the back of his head as a no)

inserts another finger and starts pumping it in and out, in and out, even doing a scissor motion every now and then. you come the fourth time

the fifth time, he does all that plus play with your clit with his tongue. flicks at it, sucks on it, does everything you can possibly imagine be done with a tongue and two fingers until you squirt

and he still drinks it all. he takes those two fingers and uses it to scoop up all your cum and drinks it all

he always swallows whatever he’s able to draw out of you and whatever you’re willing to give him

and don't forget to sit on his face

he'd be more than happy to die underneath you, smothered by your thighs and cunt

if you try to do hold back and hover over his face, he'll ask you first if you like to squat over chairs rather than sit on them, before grabbing your things and pulling you down and not releasing you until he's done

if it isn’t clear yet, this man is a giver. gets genuine pleasure when he is the one to give you pleasure and can probably cum just from seeing you orgasm from his ministrations (he has and has no shame in it)

it might be how his possessiveness shows. knowing that only he can give you orgasms that intense is something he prides himself on

probably why he doesn’t mind when others look at you. all he’s looking at is your reactions, and you never show interest. you never give them the looks or sounds you make with him, and that’s enough that he just sits back, smirks, and pities the poor person who tried to hit on you

quality time as kim namjoon says in all night: "we keep all the party in this room all night. we don't wanna put it on the brake, hold tight."

the first time you reunite, he eats you out for hours

only stops because your body literally cannot go any longer and you might pass out (he debates whether he wants you to but lets you rest)

but the first time he fucks you, he doesn’t stop until you’re a whimpering, drooling mess who’s only thought is morpheus

and you do pass out

he’s there when you come to, and he starts again

morpheus rarely does quickies. he’s too intense and long-term for that. he likes to take his time to worship you and he doesn’t want to end because he ran out of time or he has an appointment with someone else. when he’s with you, you’re all he’s thinking about

however, he does like to take his time teasing you

and by that, i mean he can give you little teasing touches all day to get you worked up

hand on your upper thigh when eating with others

presses his front against your back as he reaches for something in the cabinet

might even touch you through your underwear without giving you too much—just to keep you wanting and waiting

he can last a pretty long time, and sessions with him usually involve you cumming so many times that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to cum again (you will. he’ll show you)

always engages foreplay. involves a heavy make out session coupled with groping that leads you to being wet enough that he can just slip inside you

likes to fuck you where its comfortable for you—bed, a couch (walls are his guilty pleasure, though)

will fuck you anywhere in the dreaming, though, cause it’s all him

might even be more intense for him since he can feel whatever surface he’s fucking you on and how hard he’s fucking you or how tight and desperate you’re holding on to the edge of that table

morning sex isn't as common since that's when you wake up from the dreaming

night is definitely prime time for sex

you know you're in for a long time when you have sex before you're even in the dreaming. when that happens, you better hold on, since you'll wake up more exhausted than before you slept

gift giving could be into toys, but he has to be the one who made it and he has to be the one using it on you. but why would you need toys anyway when you can have his cock

might be offended if you think he needs to use a toy to get to orgasm, as it suggests that he’s not enough

and if you say you want a toy just for the times he’s busy, he’ll tell you that he’s never too busy to give you an orgasm and proves it to you in that point

you’ll have to tell him that you can’t take enough if you want him to stop

rather, he uses toys to overstimulate

vibrator on clit while his tongue searches deeper in your fold or vice versa

the gift he does like to give you is lingerie

he gives you an assortment of different colours in different materials

his favourite is whatever makes you feel the most confident

gives you lingerie that is meant to be ripped off you

when he rips a set of lingerie that you actually really liked, he’ll apologize with kisses and promises that he’ll make you more before fucking you senseless

buys you lingerie from la perla. when you wear it to sleep and you arrive in the dreaming in it, he preens in delight

sometimes, he’ll give you lingerie from the dreaming while you’re in the dreaming. that’s completely under his control, and he can make it disappear in an instant

speaking of giving you toys in the dreaming, if he makes it, that he can get behind cause he has absolute control over it. his finger becomes the remote

that little underwear he gives you? with no warning, starts to fucking vibrate during dinner with lucienne. doesn’t ease up until you get up, flushed and with wobbly knees, and run to the hallway where you cum with a poorly concealed moan

when you return to the table, he looks to you with a knowing smirk. thankfully, lucienne remains unaware (or at least has the courtesy of pretending to be)

in the waking world, you like to wear his clothes after you wake up. in return, he takes your underwear

when you fuck in the dreaming, you wake up drenched and with a wet spot on your blanket. he sends you a new blanket as an unfelt apology which he’ll ruin the next night anyway

back to his greatest gift to you being his cock

i see him longer than wider (but not long enough to hurt you. 27-inch dick fanfic writers, stay back). you know, keeping in theme with his whole lean yet lanky physique

might be long enough that you can’t deepthroat him completely, though he appreciates the attempt

but the one time you steel yourself and manage to take him in all whole

nearly cums in your mouth immediately

wouldn’t expect you to do that all the time, of course. but on the special occasion that you want to put the focus on him, that’s the way to go

the way to morpheus’ heart is not through his heart, but through swallowing

all in all, this Endless is guaranteed to find his pleasure in yours, so make sure to tell him that he's doing well, keep your moans loud and uncontrolled, and he'll fuck you out of this universe

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗂𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗆, 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾 — 𝗎𝗇𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗋, 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝖾.

𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅-𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍-𝗍𝗒𝗉𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍, 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾 (𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌). 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌. 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀.

╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @aurorarevenclaw1927

#the sandman imagine #morpheus imagine #morpheus x reader #dream imagine #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman fanfiction #dream fanfiction #sandman imagine #sandman headcanons #morpheus headcanons #the sandman #morpheus smut #dream smut #morpheus love languages #i'm not going to hell because i'm already here and wrote it in hell #written in hell

5K notes · View notes

roguelov · 2 years

Text

Only in Dreams

Summary: Married to Dream of the Endless, for centuries, you never expected to feel neglected. Yet even after his return, his attention turned to the Dreaming and ensuring its stability and future. While, your own needs and wants pulled at you. And soon your dreams were slowly filled with pleasure. Just not exactly from Morpheus.

Word Count: ~4k

Reader: Afab

Warning: smut (unprotected sex, oral receiving (afab), switch!reader, switch!dream, dirty talk, fingering), bits of angst, and some fluff

Tags: @lizajane2, @layla2-49

MINOR DNI/ 18+ ONLY

Soft light filtered through the tall windows. Specs of dust glowed in the light, casting a dreamlike hazy in the air. The royal library was a spectacular sight. Endless floors, and winding mazes of shelves, continued to grow and grow.

Comforting, and welcoming.

Yet, a squeaky cart echoed, disrupting the peace. Or it would if anyone else were here enjoying the thousands and thousands of books.

It was you, and you alone. You wheeled around the infernal cart, shelving new books added to the Dreaming. While, Lucienne was off collecting a new census, and as you suspected, a reason to step outside the library’s walls.

But, company soon appeared.

“And what are you doing?” A presence loomed behind you.

Smiling to yourself, you barely turned your head in acknowledgement. “Shelving books.”

Morpheus hummed. “Care to have some company?”

“I would love some,” you smiled. You continued to move down the bookshelf with Morpheus trailing along like your shadow. “So, what have you been up to, my king?”

Morpheus moved to the side of you. “Usual business.”

“How vague,” you teased a bit.

A smile twitched on his lips. “I do not wish to bore you with all the details on how to run a kingdom.”

You hummed, twisting to shelve another book. A mistake. Instantly, like a spring loaded viper, Morpheus pressed himself against your back. His hands curled around the shelves above, white knuckling it. Still facing ahead, you smirked to yourself, “Yes, my king?”

His hand fell from the wooden shelves, and circled around your waist. “Why do you address me as such? Call me by my name, sweetness.”

You leaned your head back and whispered in his ear. “Morpheus.”

A groan rumbled in his throat.

Your heart skipped. It was such a beautiful noise. You laughed through your nose. “I think you have lied to me. I think you are the one in need of some company.”

“Is that a problem?” He buried his face into your neck.

“No.”

“Good.” He pressed a gentle kiss, almost desperate to refrain himself, in the crook of your neck. “Oh, how I have missed you.”

“Have you?”

“Yes,” he breathed into the shell of your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “You have tainted my thoughts all day, I could not focus at all.”

You spun around in his grasp. Books and shelves dug into your back. But, you didn’t mind. “Oh, have I? And what have you thought about?”

His lips skimmed over your neck. “Treacherous things.”

You bit your lip, and craned your neck. “Tell me.”

“Where do I start?” He nipped at your skin, eliciting a low hum from you. “One was you, your lovely bare body, laid out for me on our silk sheets. And you were squirming under my constant touch.” His hands travelled over your body. A hand snaked up, skimming over your breast and wrapped around your throat. He lifted his head, gauging your reaction. Your eyes were glassy with lust. A mimic of his own. He laughed through his nose. His hand trailed down and gripped your hips. “And you were making the most wondrous noises.”

You sighed, lost in his touch and spellbinding words. Your hands latched into his hair, needing him closer and needing to ground yourself.

He hummed as you carded your fingers through his hair. His thumbs rubbed teasing circles on your hips. All of it calculated, all of it to pull you in. It was so far, yet so close to where you truly needed him. “One was us on my throne with you on top. Your head was thrown back as you cried out in pleasure.”

You let out a shaky breath. Fuck. You rubbed your legs together wishing for some sort of relief.

“Another was here in the royal library,” he pressed his forehead to yours, “tucked away in a corner, like now. And we have to be, oh so, quiet but you, my love, could barely contain yourself.”

You tugged on his hair, making him moan quietly. You laughed, “I could not contain myself? Are you sure it wasn’t yourself you were mistaking?”

His eyes sparked with hunger, his lips curled into a devious smirk. “Shall we test this theory?”

You opened your eyes.

Black silk drapery. Not the captivating blue of a certain Endless. Soft cushioning hugged your back. Not sharp, somewhat uncomfortable, edges of books and wooden shelves.

It was a dream.

A idiotic dream.

You laid here in bed, and not in the royal library about to have a battle of wits and pleasure. Yet, you couldn’t shake off the dream. His voice still echoed through your head like a siren’s call. You rolled over. Empty. You reached over touching the spot where Morpheus would sleep.

Cold.

You sighed, frowning slightly. He must have left a while ago. It was sweet he did not wish to disturb you, but you wished he did.

You needed him.

In many ways right now.

However, you did not blame Morpheus. He had finally returned after so many years away. He had regained his tools, and had more power which he hadn’t had in ages. He was stronger, and wiser too. But, the years away, also brought paranoia. He didn’t want the Dreaming to fade as it did. Rebuilding it all from ruins was a long tiring journey, and now the Dreaming was thriving. Dreamers rejoiced. But, he still worried. He had busied himself with every detail, with every minor issue, to ensure an everlasting success.

And in doing so, he had started to neglect you.

His love.

Of course, in the first week of his return, he hardly left your side. He worshiped you like a fallen devotee begging for your forgiveness, he murmured his love on every square inch of your body, and he showed you again and again how years away had ruined him.

But, a kingdom needed their king.

His attention drifted back to the Dreaming, and ever so slowly he drew away from you.

You sighed, sitting up.

Your hands rested in your lap. You fiddled with the black band on your left hand. A simple band dipped in an inky onyx black, yet when you twisted it, it shone like far off galaxies: purples, blues, flecks of green, and twinkling stars. It resembled Morpheus, and his love, in every way.

You softly kissed the ring. “Morning, my sweet king.”

With a heavy heart, and a droop in your shoulders, you got out of bed and went off to find work.

Day after day.

Night after night.

The fissure between you and Morpheus grew. And so, those dreams became more and more frequent, and more intense.

And you couldn’t turn away from it.

Morpheus slid down your naked body. His eyes, once a delicate enchanting blue, now sharp and filled with a dangerous hunger. His lips dragged the curves of your body. Goosebumps chased after him. You wiggled, and hummed.

His lips skimmed further and further then -

He darted around where you so desperately wanted him. He peppered butterfly kisses across your inner thigh. Fleeting and soft, all of it left you wanting.

“Morpheus,” you whined.

He chuckled and nipped at your thigh. You gasped. “Patience, my love,” he whispered.

He moved to the other side, leaving a new trail of kisses, and marks, on your thigh. You bunched up the bedsheets. “Please, Morpheus.”

Off, in the outer edges of the Dreaming, a king heard his love call out his name. Morpheus, who was diligently working on new dreams and nightmares, spun around. He cocked his head. Did he truly hear you?

“Morpheus.”

His eyebrows knitted together. Why did you call him? Why now? Has something happened?

Curious, he stepped away from his soon to be creations. The bind that connected the two of you, tugged at his chest. Taking a single step, the dark sandy beach vanished like wisps of fog. It was all replaced with a bedroom: your shared bedroom.

And a sight was there to greet him.

You sprawled out on the bed, legs spread, as himself - a copy - buried his head between your thighs.

A dream. You dreamt all of this.

The fake gently blew on your needy core. His eyes flickered up. Your face was turned and buried into the pillow. Your lips parted. Your heavy breathing filled the silence, anticipating - begging - for his next move.

Morpheus stared stunned. His mouth agape.

The fake swiped over your folds with the flat of his tongue, then sucked on your clit. Your jaw dropped as your eyes shut in pleasure. The fake finally dove in. His expert tongue swirled and stroked all the right spots.

“Morpheus,” you moaned.

Your hands flew to his tousled hair, gripping it for dear life. Your back arched in pleasure. The fake hummed, sending your mind spinning. You squirmed. His firm hand pressed on your stomach forcing you down and still.

Morpheus, the real one, couldn’t look away.

Emotions clashed inside of him: anger, sorrow, jealousy, and also spikes of desire. Each one desperate to dominate him, yet he couldn’t grasp on one. He could only watch numbly as a poor copy of himself pleasured you.

You bucked your hip, trying to ride his face. The fake chuckled. The vibrations sent another wave of pleasure through you. You began chanting his name over and over like a broken prayer.

“Come, my sweetness,” the fake mumbled against you.

Morpheus left.

He didn’t wish to see anymore.

Now, he had something he must do.

The next morning, you still woke to an empty bed. The dream from the night before was muddled and hazy but a dull ache lingered in your heart. Yet, you continued on. You put your head down and got to work. Lucienne mentioned something the other day about needing assistance, so you went there.

Hours passed.

You never saw Morpheus. Unfortunately, as you predicted.

You and Lucienne chatted and laughed. Your own sorrows were forgotten for a fleeting moment. However, neither of you were aware of the shadow looming around you. A certain someone who still couldn’t comprehend what he saw last night.

He watched as you smiled and laughed as if nothing happened.

And in a way, nothing did.

Morpheus simply saw something he wasn’t supposed to. But, it continued to dig at him. Why? Why didn’t you come to him? Why did you act as if everything was fine? Why were you hiding this?

Later, he decided. He would address this later.

In the waning hours of the day, snuggled in a plush chair in your grand bedroom, you mindlessly flipped through a book. One, you weren’t truly reading. Your eyes scanned over the pages. Letters barely formed words. They skittered over the page and swirled tirelessly in your mind.

You huffed, setting your book down. You turned your attention to the flickering fireplace. Its heat warmed your cheeks, surrounding and filling you. As you stared at the whipping colors, your mind drifted to where it wished to go since the beginning.

Your dreams.

Your damned dreams that ran rampant.

You couldn’t free yourself from them. Morpheus now consumed your every thought, consumed your every needs. Physically and emotionally.

A door creaked open.

You peered behind you to see Morpheus. You smiled easily, your head resting back. “Hello, my sweet king.”

“Hello, my love.”

Not expecting any more of this conversation, you turned back to the fire. You suspected Morpheus to go to bed, weary from a day’s work. However, he surprised you. He sat down in the chair across from you. His coat wiped and flourished. His fingers threaded together resting them on his lap. His matching onyx band twinkled in the fire light. His eyes slid over to the flames.

The crackle of fire filled the pressing silence.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze was solely on the fire. His lips puckered in thought.

You may not have been physical in weeks, but it was daunting seeing how in recent days you hadn’t properly spoken to one another. It was awkward, and a little unnerving. It felt as if a stranger sat across from you.

“Are,” you began, getting Morpheus’s attention, “are you okay?”

Morpheus cocked his head in minor confusion. “Am I?”

“Yes, are you?”

“My sweetness, I am perfectly fine.”

You nodded.

“It is you who I worry about.”

Now, you were confused. “Me? Why?”

He sighed. The time has come. He got up and strolled over to you in three easy strides. Standing over you, he cupped your face. “Have I truly made you feel so abandoned?”

You scrunched up your face. “Abandoned? No, not -“

“My love, please, do not lie.”

“Morpheus, sweet Morpheus,” you hummed, smiling at him. Despite the obvious ache in your heart. “I don’t feel abandoned. I know of your duties and everything you must do.”

“But.”

You smiled softly. “I’m okay, I swear. You simply worry too much.”

The Dreaming is more important, you thought.

“Worry? Is it wrong to worry when I have forgotten the one I love?” He huffed. His thumb began to rub soothing circles on your cheek. “Yes, I do worry but, right now, I am more upset than anything.”

“Morpheus -“

“You needn’t lie for my pride. I already know the truth.”

You blinked.

He sighed, dropping his hand. “I have left you alone - needing - so you sought pleasure elsewhere.”

“What?” Your heart skipped. Fearful and slightly ashamed.

“You have used the Dreaming to create another me to fill your needs. I heard you calling out and to say I was surprised at the sight I saw is an understatement.”

Your cheeks warmed. You didn’t think he - “Morpheus, it’s fine. Honestly I don’t know why -“

“Tell me what you want.”

“Excuse me?”

He cupped your face with both hands, gently tilting your head back. He bent down. His lips brushed over yours, instantly drawing you in. “Tell me what you want, my love. Use me to fill your needs.”

“Morpheus -“

“Don’t,” he murmured against your lips. “A husband should care for the one they swore to love for eternity. And I have put my attention elsewhere. I’ve hurt you.”

Your hands slowly moved up bunching the front of his shirt. You haven’t had him - the real him - so close in a while. “You didn’t hurt me.”

It was the truth. You still loved him, always will.

He laughed once through his nose and smiled. “You are too good for me.”

Your hands wandered up further threading into the ends of his hair. You curled your fingers softly, nails scraping against the base of his head. He closed his eyes and hummed.

You bit back a knowing smirk. “It seems you have also neglected your needs, my sweet king.”

He chuckled. “I suppose I have.”

You finally pulled him in.

Your lips melded together. Like two puzzle pieces. Electricity ripples through your body. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss. He greedily followed your lead. You forcibly yanked on his hair. He moaned, opening his mouth. The perfect opportunity. Your tongue snuck in.

He groaned.

Your heart jumped. Oh, how you loved the noises he made. It drove you crazy. Each hum, each moan, seemed to go through you.

He smirked against you.

Although he may give himself over to you, he did enjoy teasing you. As your tongue swirled around, soon Morpheus quickly gained control. He knew exactly what to do and knew your own body better than yourself. In seconds, you were a puddle in his grasp.

You whimpered.

He gently guided you to your feet. His expert fingers trailed down your spine leaving sparks. Morpheus’s hands moved to your hips. You threw your arms over his shoulders bringing him impossibly close. You both clumsily stumbled around. Yet, your chest started to constrict. Your lungs burned. Air, you needed air. You broke the kiss and rested your forehead on his. Your chest heaved in chaotic unison.

Morpheus drawed your hips closer.

The simple friction was fire across your starved skin. You bit the inside of your cheek, humming.

“What do you want?” He whispered.

“You,” you breathed out.

You walked forward, pushing Morpheus backwards until he hit the edge of the bed. He flopped. His arms sprawled out to the sides, his coat draped behind him, his hair pointed in all directions, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted and swollen, and his eyes - oh his eyes - were soft in absolute adoration.

He smiled lovingly up at you. “Use me as you wish, my love.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You crawled up on top of him. You pulled him into another deepening kiss. He hummed, his hands flew up gripping your hips.

But, you ended the kiss quickly.

He groaned, disappointed.

You kissed the corner of his lips, down his face, over and up his jaw, then to his neck. He craned his neck back. You peppered kisses up and down his neck, and when you hit a certain spot, right at the crook, Morpheus’s hands tightened, possibly bruising your hips.

You smirked against his skin.

You nipped at him, starting to mark his perfect skin. He groaned, “(Y/N).”

It sent shivers down your spine, and directly to your core. His deep resonance, his pleas, it was dizzying.

Your hands snuck under his shirt tracing every taunt muscle. Your lips moved over his neck to the other side. He leaned, giving you easy access to nip, bite, and mark more of his skin. Your palm laid flat over his chest. His heart thrummed.

You leaned back.

He breathed heavily. His brilliant eyes darkened.

You grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him up. Your lips smashed together, hot and heavy. And now, he decided to return the favor. His lips ghosted over your neck. Such a simple touch made your head fall back as you groaned.

He smirked.

Needing more, you grinded down.

Morpheus moaned, dropping his head on your shoulder. “Do that again, my love, and I won’t be able to control myself,” he mumbled.

You smirked, grinding down again. He chuckled darkly. He pulled back looking at you in the eye. His index finger and thumb wrapped around your chin, bringing you closer. “Is that what you want?”

Your pleasure meant the world to him. He wanted it to be about you.

“Yes,” you murmured.

“As you wish, my sweetness.”

You feverishly tore off each other’s clothes. Each layer fluttered to the bedroom floor, piles upon piles. Morpheus laid you gently on your back on the dark sheets. He hovered over you. He bent down kissing you softly. You hummed, knotting your fingers in his already messy hair. He pulled away, licking his lips.

Biting back a smile, you slowly pushed him downward. He smirked, taking your not so subtle hint. His lips trailed down your body.

His talented mouth kissed down the valley between your breasts then over to one. Slowly, taking one his mouth, he swirled his tongue over your perked nipple. You sighed, tightening your grip in his hair. His hand kneaded your other neglected breast. Working you, sending you into pleasure. He pinched your nipple.

“Morpheus.”

He popped out your breast and switched, working on the other one. You arched your back, moaning. He knew exactly what to do. He knew how to rile you up in the most delicious taintilizing ways. All of it, leaving you needing and begging for more.

His eyes flickered up. Your eyes were closed, as you fell apart to his touch. Smiling against your skin, he moved farther down, kissing and nipping at your skin. He nipped at your hips, then down your inner thigh.

You squirmed.

You were dripping, desperate for any friction, for some sort of relief. One finger dragged between your folds collecting your wetness. “Morpheus, please,” you begged.

“Patience, my love.”

One finger slid in, soft simple strokes. He was teasing you. Not offering you enough. You bucked your hips begging for more, desperately trying to ride his one finger.

Then he dove in.

His tongue swirled around your clit. You sighed in pleasure, and tugged on his hair. Another finger slid in. He pumped you, a soft rhythm, gently stroking your walls.

He curled his fingers, beckoning you.

You gasped. Your eyes flew open, and peered down at him. His dark eyes met yours. Buried between your thighs, he stared unwavering up at you. Heat spread throughout you. He curled his fingers again.

You moaned, your head falling back.

Each stroke brought you closer and closer and -

He stopped.

He removed his fingers and pulled away completely leaving you feeling utterly empty. You whined. Looking down at him, he put his two fingers, covered in your juices, in his mouth. He moaned at your taste. His tongue swirled around his fingers leaving you wishing it was you.

You bit your lip, whimpering.

He chuckled. “Do not worry, my sweetness. I’ll help.”

Crawling over top of you, he paused. He stared lovingly down at you. You smiled reaching up, cupping his face. He turned his head kissing your palm and down your inner wrist. He brought your hands over your head. Your fingers intertwined together. Your band and his clacked together.

He lined himself up.

He bent down kissing you.

Without warning, he slid in.

You moaned against his mouth, and he eagerly swallowed the noise. Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours. His dazzling blue eyes bore down at you. You smiled softly at him.

He rocked his hips.

Your face twisted in pleasure.

Slow and steady pace. Each movement filled and stretched you, each movement a show of his undying affection, each movement an apology for leaving you.

“Morpheus,” you whined.

“I know, bear with me, my love.” He dropped his head onto your shoulder. He kissed your skin as he gently rocked his hips. “You are truly too good for me.”

You tightened your hands in his. “I love you, Morpheus. Nothing will change that.”

“And I love you.”

He bucked his hips at a different angle. You moaned, arching your back. “Morpheus, please, faster.”

He smiled, and teasingly said. “If that is what you want.”

“Yes, more than anything.” You mewled.

He snapped his hips.

A new relentless pace. A string of curses left your lips. You instantly wrapped your legs around his hips. Pressure build and build. Your walls hugged his cock wonderfully, as he hit all the right spots. Like before, he knew your body well.

His heavy breathing fanned across your already hot skin.

He slipped one hand free from your grasp. Tracing down between your molded bodies, his finger circled around your clit. “Fuck,” you hissed, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Ah, look at me, my love.”

You cracked open your eyes to see the endless blue. He expertly swirled his finger again. Your mouth fell open.

“You are divine,” he whispered. Your wall fluttered around him, warning him. He groaned. He knew you were about to reach your end, and soon so was he. “Come for me.”

You whined.

“Come for your dear husband.”

His words fueled the already burning fire.

You cried out his name as you clamped down around him.

He smiled to himself.

He continued to work you through your orgasm sending you higher than before. Until, you were completely filled with ecstasy. You writhed beneath him, repeating only his name. Your mind clouded in only absolute pleasure.

Morpheus soon followed after. Your name tumbled off his lips in a low groan. He hovered over you, breathless. You smiled lazily, brushing his hair out of his flushed face.

He smiled down at you.

He fell down into the sheets. You instantly crawled over to him laying your head on his chest. Your ear pressed to his heart listening to its erratic beat as it began to slow down. His arms wrapped around you, unwilling to let you go. Not ever again. His finger drew lazy shapes on your still hot skin.

“If you need anything, do tell me,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Of course,” you whispered against his skin.

His index finger titled your chin back. His eyes connected with yours, and he smiled softly. “Please,” he repeated, “do not think your needs are less than. You are more important in every way.”

You matched his smile. “Do not say that or I’ll have you trapped in here.”

He laughed once. “Please do from time to time.”

You laughed.

He bent his head pressing a loving kiss to your lips. You sighed, closing your eyes. Slowly, he pulled away and whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#the sandman #Morpheus #dream of the endless #morpheus smut #dream x reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus imagines #dream imagine #the sandman imagine #smut #afab!reader

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avtrbee · 2 years

Text

saving grace

summary: morpheus is captured by roderick burgess, but is swiftly rescued by his wife

A/n: yeah ik, ik, i should be working on love game but hehe this was way too irresistible. basically a Love game au where morpheus treated you right and you save morpheus from his imprisonment at the height if burgess’ power. Think of this as what could have been is morpheus was a better husband from the beginning. gif not mine !!

Jessamy was your final warning that Roderick Burgess is not your normal opponent. He was such a ridiculously luck-favored individual that despite failing to capture Death, he had imprisoned the next best thing. He stole his tools, bringing him prosperity. The magician Burgess became renowned in the waking world, a man of miracles, blessed by the gods who created magic themselves, and- some say, has a demon locked in his basement.

You had tried to enter it once, thinking that you could just pop by and drag Dream from his cage, but someone had tipped Burgess to write runes around every entrance and exit in his house that weaken you and can ban you from entering, unless someone wanted you in. You have a strong hunch that they were the same person to warn the magician not to break the summoning circle, and enclose Dream inside a glass sphere.

You were with Jessamy, helping her dodge every bullet Burgess had tried to aim. It is through Jessamy that you finally get your first glance of the mansion’s inner lodgings, preening forward as Jessamy lights up a fire and hides in the corners of the mansion until, finally, you are greeted with the first sight of Dream in a year.

His unruly hair was the first thing you saw, before he slowly lifted his head up in hope. Morpheus is stripped bare, without his helm, ruby and pouch of sand. Without any robes. He looks at Jessamy with adoration. Wherever Dream the Endless goes, there will always be his loyal raven not too far behind. But there was a quick lift of his lips as he spots his bird- a private smile. That one is for you.

Though you were far, far away from Earth, you could hear the small clink Jessamy’s beak made as she frantically pecked on the glass orb that holds your husband. You watch in devastation how the hope in Morhpeus’ eyes faded away, replaced by a look of utter resignment. Still, he lifts his hand to touch his glass cage to his precious bird.

While in her head, you could feel Jessamy’s emotions, how she was as desperate as you to set her lord go, her utter relief at how she finally entered the house after months of trying, and her overwhelming fear that something was going to go wrong. You feel how Jessamy pushes and fails to push this lingering fear of death that she senses in the air, trying her best to focus on the glass, to keep pecking, and pecking until-

Until nothing.

You open your eyes with a start and mouth agape, grasping your sheets in freight as you feel a phantom pain at your back. You try to remember where you are as you get up from bed. You feet touches a lush red rug that stretches a little more after the bed ends, a floor with pristine marble walls that shimmer as you walk, and a mirror on your right that if you go through would take you to your own realm.

Home. This is where you are, home in the Dreaming, home to the private chamber you share with your husband, Dream. Dream, who is not here. Dream, who is in the waking world, held prisoner by some amateur magician who got lucky.

You know what you must do. You exit your room and walk towards his throne room in a hurry, up the stairs to his seat of power uninterrupted until you sense a quiet presence with you.

Lucienne is at the foot of the steps, looking at you in both sadness and fear as she spots your bow and quiver with your person, your trusted weapons that will aid you in whatever comes next.

“My lady,” she starts, and her warm dark gaze falls on you as you stare at her eyes back. Somehow there is an entire conversation that was said in silence as you look at each other's gaze. You can hear her warnings, her hesitations on your leave, her worry on the slowly deteriorating state of the Dreaming. You can hear her attempts to persuade to stay, that perhaps Morpheus would free himself soon. In your ears, you can also hear your replies, your attempts to soothe her worry, your promises to come back. It is not lost to you that you may be repeating the exact same thing your husband said.

“Safe travels.” She says instead and you know you have gotten her blessing.

You slip into the waking world without a moment’s thought.

There are three facts you recite to yourself as you approach the Burgess Manor in all its splendor. First, there is a party tonight. The Burgess monarch seems to love these parties, having one at every month, each growing more extravagant than the last. There is a growing crowd of eager party goers hoping to catch a glimpse and the favor of the Burgess monarch. Two, thanks to the runes carved above every entrance of the house, you must be invited inside.

You walk towards the crowd in confidence, putting on a show to anyone who is looking. You glance to your right as you see yourself in the reflection of a car window- utterly gorgeous. Lips as red as the blood you will cry tonight, eyes as dark as sunless sky and your smile as deadly as your fury. Three, you are the most beautiful girl in the party.

Not that it matters, you think to yourself as you walk through the crowd who parts as you strut. They will all see who they want to see.

You catch a boy guarding the front door as he lets other guests in. You follow the line of people, before catching the arm of an unsuspecting man, halting him from entering the door.

“Wha- oh. Oh, hello, may I help you?” His initial anger has immediately faded as he saw you, replaced by an infatuated grin. You squint your eyes when you realize he is not a reminder of his lady wife when he looks at you, but rather a girl from a whore house a couple of blocks from his home.

“I can’t help but to notice you were unaccompanied on this lovely night,” you start, tugging his arm closer until you are hugging it. “I was wondering if I can keep you company tonight…?”

The nameless man smiles easily. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

You giggle in delight and the man leads you towards the door. As you passed by the carved runes of the door, you felt a wave of fatigue run over that almost made you stumble. The man you are thankfully does not notice, as his head was still in the clouds of scoring a woman so beautiful.

But despite his luck, the man quickly announces his leave as soon as he sees Roderick Burgess on a chair. He is more eager to save his dying company than to have the presence of Love themselves, it seems. You do not mind and laugh comfortingly as he mournfully apologizes as he takes his leave, giving you not one, but four longing glances as he approached his target. You do not mind. The nameless man had let you inside and led you to Roderick Burgess in less than five minutes. You would have considered blessing him if only he was faithful to his marriage.

You slink behind people, accepting a glass of champagne to blend in but never leaving your sights off the man who had imprisoned Dream. He is constantly surrounded by different people, some part of his household, but most were his fellow amateur magicians and cultists, eager to get his acquaintance. You wait until he is finally alone. He stands to walk, and you follow.

“All that talking must be tiring.” You have heard that he has a lover already, a young blonde girl that is often seen hanging on his arms in these types of events. But the fact that you had not seen her yet tonight makes you optimistic. That and how you wear his old wife’s face, the one that face that Randall inherited- its why he loved him the best, you know you have won. “Isn’t it tiring?”

It takes a second for him to reply, too taken aback by a dead face. “It is but a necessary evil of the powerful,” he says, offering you his arm. You happily accept and cling to it. “Do you drink, fair lady?”

“I do, but I am not as fond of wine, sir.” You reply. You place your hand on his chest as a spur of red magic ignites out of your palms. You feel his heart and squeeze. “I’m afraid you must drink twice as much for the both of us tonight.”

Love me, love me, love me, your magic inside him chants.

Roderick Burgess smiles and laughs like a happy man, and you knew you spoke like his dead wife came to life. Despite his sins against Morpheus, you find comfort to at least provide him this brief fantasy. A human’s grief has always hit you a hard, and you would have felt bad for exploiting his mourning if he did not have you husband locked under his house. You know what you must do.

You patiently wait with a smile getting harder to hide as the hours pass by. You watch as Roderick Burgess receives drink after drink, never declining a glass of wine that was offered. You wait until he is stumbling in his walk, until he needs you by his side to keep himself from falling.

The party was long over when he was finished. All guests had retreated home, or had passed out in the living room. Roderick Burgess clings on your shoulder as he thinks you are leading him to his bedroom. He is too drunk to notice that you have not climbed the stairs, but rather down to the hallway, towards the door to his basement.

You halted at the door that Jessamy had previously entered. “What is behind this door, sir? Surely not another one of your living rooms?”

Roderick took a glance at the door and laughed. “A great failure,” he replies. “But a blessing in disguise nonethelessh.”

His voice slurs and you smile. “Impossible. Failure does not know Roderick Burgess,” you say and he laughs even harder. “After all, they whisper of the demon you keep in your basement.”

He shrugs himself off your grip as he stumbles towards the door. “Failure? I know it well, girl. My son, gone. My wife-“ he mournfully looks at you before quickly looking away out of grief or lust, you do not know. “-is dead. You think I do not know what you are doing? You’re just like the rest of them! So hungry for power, so hungry for what I can give.”

You seethe. He cannot give anything. Every single blessing that was brought forth to his life was because of your husband's stolen tools.

“You are jushh like the rest of ‘em,” he declares, his words getting louder and sloppier. “But tonight, I shall show you, thanks to the wonderful company you’ve given me tonight.”

You did not give him good company. Roderick had fun by himself drink after drink. You had merely waited.

He swings the basement doors open and enters and you follow quietly behind him like a silent shadow. There is a stone hallway that you go through before finally, you see your husband’s sphere cage. At the sound of your voice, Morpheus lets out a small grin. His eyes were curious, head tilting in confusion on what you were doing down here. You make it a point not to look at him.

“He is not a demon,” Roderick starts, walking to Dream. He stops before the summoning circle. “He is Endless. More than a God, but less than Death.” Roderick turns to you and beckons you with his hand. You accept his hand gracefully, and Roderick leads you beside him. At the corner of your eye, you see Morpheus look at your conjoined palms. “I had tried to summon Death for my Randall. I got him instead,” he spits angrily.

“Then what does he do?” You ask, eyeing at the summoning circle. You see Dream’s prison, but you do not know how to break it yet. You must be smart. “And this?” You ask, your foot gesturing to the runes written on the floor.

You were tugged back harshly before your foot could even touch the circle. “Break that circle and he will kill you.” Roderick hissed in an angry breath. Morpheus’ eyes darken at Roderick’s grating action, but dared not to move.

“He does not bargain,” Roderick starts, looking back at Morpheus and you take it as your cue to move back slowly. You feel your bow appear in your hands, strong and steady just like how you must be. There is already an arrow ready on it waiting for you. “nor does he show any sort of emotions.”

You nock the arrow, keeping your eyes on the man. Before you, Morpheus eyes your weapon but keeps a passive face giving nothing away from your scheme.

“He cannot do anything at all.” Roderick raises a hand and gestures for you without turning. “Come, love. Say hi. Don’t be afraid, he cannot even speak.”

You look at Morpheus in the eye and raise your bow to Roderick’s head. “Hello, Dream.”

Morpheus looks at you now with all the fondness in his eyes and the softest smile on his lips- the rare kind of look reserved for a selected few that you receive in bulk. “Hello, wife.”

You could see Roderick’s confused frown reflected on the glass sphere before turning his head to you. As if in slow motion, you watch his eyes darken in fury and embarrassment as he realizes he has been tricked. He opens his mouth, but your arrow hits his head first. You watch as your arrow disappears as soon as it hits its mark, and you wait for Roderick Burgess to hit the floor before you scramble to the floor and erase as much of the summoning circle as you can. You frantically scrub every written symbol you can reach until there is a wide gap.

“My Love,” Morpheus calls, halting your action. You turn to him, relishing to see him through your eyes. You raise your hand against the sphere and Dream does the same. So close and yet so far.

“I am sorry about Jessamy,” you whisper, guilt lacing every word. Your husband closes his eyes in pain, as if reliving the exact memory of his trusted bird dying in front of him. “What must I do?” You look around quickly. “Morpheus, we don’t have much time and I- I am weakened here. There are runes, and if you want to get out you must do it now.”

“I cannot break this cage from the inside, my Love.” Dream says with the same resigned look on his face. “Leave me, if you must-“

“No!” You shriek. “No, please, Morpheus-“ You look around again, searching for the room for anything that might help. There were two desks before the sphere, probably for the guards stationed around Dream, but you do not see any firearms. There is nothing strong enough to break his cage, until the thought finally dawns upon you.

“I must cry,” you realize.

You drop to the floor as soon as you say the words, squeezing your eyes shut as the familiar pain of your blood tears start streaming from your face. You have felt fire burn before, but nothing will ever compare to the poisonous magic your tears bring. Your head feels like it's frozen and on fire at the same time, but your eyes carry the most damage your tears bring, making them feel like a hot white pain. It is a burn, poison and freezing at the same time.

Despite your weakened state, you managed to clutch a single arrow out. You grip on it like it's your lifeline before putting it’s tip under your eye to catch your blood tears.

“Love, why must you weep for me?” Morpheus asks, kneeling down in his cage, trying his best to be as close as he could.

You try to laugh. “I have been deprived of my husband for almost a decade, my lord,” you reply weakly, still bowing at your burning eyes. As soon as you know the arrow is coated fully with your blood tears, you halt crying and weakly nock the arrow immediately. “He was taken from me.”

Morpheus, familiar to the power your blood tears hold, had backed away as far as he could in his glass cage. You waste no moment aiming your arrow towards the glass and shoot. The glass explodes with a loud boom that echoes across the room, shaking the basement and the house above you. Distantly, you hear screams above and you wonder if you had accidentally caused an earthquake. Your arrow makes you fly across the room, hitting the stone wall that you were behind before.

But all thoughts leave your head when a familiar touch holds your face gently. Morpheus is finally in front of you, his hands feeling so warm despite not being human. He looks at you with stars in his eyes and a smile of adoration on his mouth.

“But crying pains you.”

You feel his thumb wipe your blood tears away, staining your cheeks even redder. “I would cry rivers of blood if it means having you back.”

You smile in his hands, eyes bloodshot and cheeks stained red. Morpheus has never seen you so beautiful. Slowly, he leans forward and gives you a kiss on your head before cradling your head again to look at you.

Your husband is not one to say his words aloud, but you heard thank you, I’m sorry, and I love you through his kiss all the same.

“Let us go home,” you say, grasping his hand and kissing his palm.

“As long as Dream of the Endless is with Love, his wife,” Morpheus starts. “He is already home.”

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

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