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#Dream of the Endless x reader
thoughtsfromlayla · 3 days
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26 Ways of Taking You: E for Edging
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Summary: Hell hath no pettiness like a woman ignored.
Notes: ~4k words of pure POR-, Dream in this fic can be summed up as "the light is on but no one is home", reader gives big bratty energy and I love that for her honestly (same)
Warnings: NSFW 18+, Sub!Dream, orgasm denial, edging (duh), unprotected intercourse, p in v, handjob, blowjob, riding, takin' it from da back
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How busy could a monarch possibly be? 
You sit on the plush couch, quietly seething like the crackling fireplace that accompanies you. It should be your husband who should be accompanying you instead. The book you were supposedly reading has long since become words on a page, the letters merging together and tangling within themselves. You dejectedly shut the book with a bang as you realize you’ve been rereading the same line with no progress for the past hour. 
You understand that Morpheus’ duties are never ending, as endless as his name, but would it really kill him to spend a few hours a day with you? With a sigh, you toss the book onto the ottoman and stand, your bones groaning as they finally move after hours of staying still. A bath wouldn’t sound half bad right now. 
Another sigh of relief leaves you as you enter the bathhouse. The large communal bath of natural spring waters was completely empty. You still take a quick glimpse around before stripping yourself before submerging into the hot water, the sudden change in temperature making your nipples perk. The temperature burns you for a moment, but you soon become acclimated to it. You completely submerge yourself, the natural hum of The Dreaming deafens as you do, and with all of your pent up frustrations, you scream into the water, watching as the air leaves your lips in large, aggressive bubbles that swim to the surface. 
“Anyway,” You say to yourself when you resurface, already feeling much better. 
You move to the side, grabbing at a bar of soap, and begin to lavish it across your skin, feeling the soothing effect glide over your skin. The water was doing wonders on your muscles and the hum that leaves your lips was that of satisfaction. 
“There you are,” Morpheus’ voice echoes in the empty room. 
You turn slowly as you look at him, your body fully submerged in the water, except for anything above your nose. You stay quiet, too vexed with him to say anything of note. Instead, you turn away and continue washing your body. 
“Are you that angry with me?” He continues and you hear the faint rustling of him removing his clothes and him walking into the bath soon after. The still water sloshes around his waist as he continues his path towards you and you soon feel his cooler limbs wrap around your body. 
“Have you missed me?” He murmurs into your neck as he rests his head there. The comfort of your skin against his revitalizes his tired body. 
The grip you had on the soap turns bone-crushing at his question. Have you missed me? You repeat his question in your head in a mocking tone. He surely needs to be punished for leaving you alone for so long. A plan is quick and easy to form in your head and a sly smile crawls on your lips. 
You turn in his arms, the same smile on your lips as you look up at him. 
“Dearly,” You answer back and press your lips to his. The heat of the bathhouse increases the heat that grows at your core. “Let me show you how much, my love.”
The suds of the soap drips down your hand as you continue to lather the bar with your one hand. The other hand is placed commanded on his shoulder to prevent him from running away, as if he would ever do so from your touch. A smile appears on his face as well as your sudsy hand trails down his chest and closer to his nether regions. 
It is of no surprise to you when you already feel his half erection greeting you beneath the waters. Your slippery fingers grasp around the shaft and a broken gasp leaves Dream’s mouth. You meticulously move your hands along his cock as you wickedly watch as he throws his head back in pleasure. His Adam’s apple bobs with each beautiful sound that comes out of his throat and you don’t restrain yourself from wrapping your lips around the protruding piece.
Slowly, your hand increases in pace, gripping his cock tighter as you do so, the water and soap assisting you as your fingers glide across the skin. His moans and groans soon turn breathless and he’s simply breathing hard and desperate against your hand. The sounds echoed across the walls of the bathhouse. 
His hands shoot out of the water as he grabs the back of your neck, looking deeply into your eyes as your hand continues its ministrations. His eyebrows crease as his dick jumps in your hand, mouth open in a silent plea as his orgasm comes closer to its peak. A whisper of your name like a prayer falls from his lips and both of you know he won’t last long. Morpheus closes his eyes in anticipation as his muscles tense below his skin. 
His eyes snap open as your fingers leave him, pushing yourself back away from his body and he’s left standing on wobbly legs. The water ripples from his trembling and close orgasmed body. 
“What-”
“Would you look at the time? I should go to bed now. Good night, Morpheus,” You cut him off with a firm hand. 
His eyes follow you as you walk out of the bath. Eyes lingering on the roundness of your ass cheeks as they pop out further as you climb up the stairs. His feet stay planted in the bath as you wrap yourself in a towel. He stays still even as you leave the room without a second glance at you. He could finish himself off, but he knows it wouldn’t be as good as your hands.
The next day, you catch Morpheus and yourself by surprise as you see him standing along the aisles of the library. Embarrassment floods your system as you vividly remember what transpired the other day. Never had you defied him so easily… and felt so happy to do so.
You peek over the bookshelf you were half hiding behind. Morpheus had an off-glazed look in his eyes. His finger was resting on the spine of a book and he kept it there for a while. If you squint you don’t think he was even breathing. You walk up to him, his gaze still not noticing you. A tap on his shoulder was enough to garner his attention, and he seemed to snap out of his zombie-like state after seeing you. 
“Are you all right, my dear?” You ask in truth. His distracted demeanor is a cause for concern. 
Almost immediately his eyes harden and a frown grows on his face. 
“You,” He growls down at you. “You left me wanting last night, denying me such a thing like that is cruel.”
You huff at his accusation. If denying one orgasm is cruel, what does he call leaving you alone for days on end then? 
“Want me to make it up to you?” You reply coyly and with a smile. Your fingers go to the lapels of his jacket and smooth over them. 
A quizzical brow raises itself at your compromise but his will dejects with a sigh. “How would you do that, dearest?”
“Well, I could…” You trail off as your fingers down his chest, just like the night before. You feel the sturdiness of the chest and how his heartbeat thrums beneath your fingers. He’s so real for the physical manifestation of a concept. “I could do something better than last night?” 
He hums as your fingers ghost over the hem of his jeans, feeling his happy trail and the depth of the lines that lead itself to his cock. You cup at his growing hardness through the rough material and his hands once again go to you, holding you gently on your waist. 
His eyes hold yours as you sink to your knees before him, a smile still evidently on your face. You don’t bother looking away when your fingers pop the button, nor when you pull at the zipper, his breath growing heavier at each tick of the metal. Your fingers tickle gently over the length of him behind the thin cloth of his underwear. 
His hand grabs at the root of your hair as his hips impatiently bucks into your face. With a flat tongue, you press the wet appendage over the tip of him, wetting the cloth underneath as you trace around his frenulum. The smell of his manhood invades your senses as you do so and your eyes roll to the back of your head at his soft moan. 
A little pull is all you need for his cock to spring out of its confinement, hot and heavy and leaking with excited precum. You feel its warmth as your soft lips kiss his tip, taking your hands around his base. You lick at the precum carefully then and his grip strengthens in your hair. 
“You said it would be better. Enough teasing,” He commands and you feel your lips tug into a barely containable smile. 
Without debate you wrap your lips around his tip, suckling at the supple skin. The bookshelf he leans against rattles as his head slams into the wooden material. You take down another inch while your hand continues to work his base. Saliva drips through your lips, creating a trail down a vein as you continue to suckle. 
A guttural groan tells you to go deeper, and you do until you feel him hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes begin to tear slightly at the large intrusion, but you push through for your master plan. You hollow out your throat, taking him down the tight cavern, and relish in the feeling of his thighs flexing under your fingers. 
Your nails dig into his thigh muscles as you bob your head back and forth on his weeping cock, the filthy mixture of saliva and pre-cum rests deliciously on your tongue. Morpheus has started to curse from above you at the warm fit. The Dreaming around you begins to hum louder as you pull back on his cock, sucking as hard as you could with him in your mouth. 
His dick jumps in your mouth, his telltale sign that he is close to his orgasm. That and your name falling from his lips once again. His hand has yet to leave your hair as his hips try to take over by bucking themselves into your mouth each time you try to pull back. His thigh muscles spasm each second that passes and just as he’s about to see the stars, you remove your lips with a satisfying pop. 
Cold air wraps around his cock instead of your warm mouth and he does his best to stop the whine that almost escapes his lips. Morpheus’ breath is ragged above you and his frown returns as he glares down at you. You looked perfect like this to him, on your knees, cheeks flushed, hair messy, and eyes watery. The only thing wrong with the picture was your satisfied grin that spread across your face and that very obvious fact that your mouth isn’t being put to use satisfying him. 
“What do you-”
“Oh my, I think I hear Lucienne coming. I should go, goodbye, Morpheus!” You cheerfully lie as you stand and briskly walk away. 
Lucienne was, of course, nowhere to be seen in the library. Both of them knew she was out gathering the consensus for the new year. Morpheus groans as he presses his palms into his eyes. You were going to be the death of him, even without trying. He’s starting to finally think that you were up to something, that devious smile of yours still flashes across his mind when he closes his eyes. He carefully puts his softening cock back into his pants as he absentmindedly thinks to himself. He doesn’t even remember why he was in the library to begin with. 
Morpheus’ thoughts trail with him throughout the day and even the Dreaming residents notice the forlorn face that he wore. It was said that while he was attending to his duties and upholding the Dreaming, it was almost barely viable. His attitude turned sour and only answered Matthew’s questions with a simple grunt or resounding “no” (not much of a change there if you were to ask the bird). Lucienne was less than amused but unable to find you to help fix this issue, she kept quiet and hoped it would pass quickly with time. 
That night, you were back on that couch, the fireplace was going again and the book you were reading was back in your hands. You’re freshly washed and enjoying the soft fabric of your summer’s nightgown as your feet tangle with the soft furs of the rug. This time, you did manage to read a few chapters but after a while, your thoughts went to the faces Morpheus made each time you denied his orgasm and a chuckle shakes through you. Surely this will teach him to never leave you alone for more than a couple days at a time. 
The Dreaming this and The Dreaming that, well, next time he will remember that you too are a part of his world if he should ever want to feel the sweet release of his orgasm again. You’re sure the last two days have been Hell for him, but it was all worth it. That desperate look on his face was like sweet victory trickling down your throat, smooth and refreshing. 
The door to your shared room opens with a bang causing you to drop your book in surprise. You look at Morpheus with wide eyes as you’re completely caught off by his sudden intrusion. Words fail you as he swiftly makes his way to you, standing in front of you with his lips tugging downwards. A scoff leaves you as you realize he’s pouting at you. 
“What ever is the matter, sweet Morpheus?” You tease in an almost condescending, sickly sweet voice. 
“You’re punishing me.” It wasn’t a question. He states it loud and clear. It had taken him all day to decipher your actions. The thought had been chasing him for the past two days, but he was always faster than it, jittering from denied orgasms and responsibilities to accomplish. 
“No!” You gasp with exaggeration. “We were simply interrupted!” 
Morpheus stays silent at your blatant lie, if anything you basically smacked him with a sign that read “yes, obviously, you numb-nut of a lover.” He doesn’t bother to move either, his eyes betraying his pseudo-domineering stance at the moment. 
“Well, good conversation then,” You mutter to yourself as you pick up your book again. You turn to the page you left off on and begin to read again. 
Morpheus’ gaze burned two holes into the top of your head as you read. Not before long, another surprised noise leaves you as he plucks the book from your hands and throws it off into some unknown corner of the room. 
“Lucienne is going to murder you for treating her books like that,” You comment with a cross of your arms. 
“She’ll survive,” He growls down at you. He’s met with your brow raising in turn, in which he finally pieces the last piece together. “Are you acting out because I’ve been neglecting you?”
Dang, he really hit the nail in the head with that one. You turn your head to the side, arms still crossed as you respond. 
“Well, I certainly got your attention this time.”
“I’d say,” He muses. He sits down by your feet, the white fur of the rug in stark contrast to his outfit. The fireplace softens his sharpness with its warm glow as you look at him from above. 
You think the conversation was over then, it seemed like the two of you came to a conclusion. Getting up from the couch, you try to walk over to the corner the book was lying in, but are stopped almost immediately as he holds onto your wrist. 
“How can I make it up to you, my love?” He asks and the pout almost makes it to his lips again. And, well, how can you say no to a face like that? 
You join him on the rug, hands cupping at his face. He leans into your touch, the moment endearing as you look at him. 
“Did we learn anything?” You ask.
“Yes.”
“Lay down for me, darling. And let’s get rid of the clothes,” You hum. 
The change is instantaneous as he lays down per your request. The furs caress against your shins as you move to straddle him, picking up the helms of your nightgown in the process. Your arousal starts to drip out of you at the sight before you. Reducing a King to nothing but a needy lover was a sight for fond eyes. It’s the thought of knowing that he could easily overpower you if he so wanted, but relinquishing all his power just so you may touch him? Delicious. 
Your pussy lips slide across the length of him as you get comfortable sitting on his lap. Morpheus’ hands easily find themselves, once again on your waist. How he wished you would strip for him as well, but he doesn’t voice his want in case you decided against touching him tonight. 
Leaning over, you go to kiss him, feeling his soft lips against yours and even you can’t deny your body when it grinds down over his cock. A satisfied hum emits from your throat as his hands wander over the curve of your ass and you leave his lips to give him bruising kisses along his pale skin. You are a painter and he is a canvas where you will show the world how much you loved him. Red blooms across the soft skin, his grip on you tightening. 
His hips thrust upwards with a moan, to which you defiantly sit down harder on him to prevent him from moving anymore. Your name falls from his lips in a hushed whisper, barely audible over the crackling fire. It sends a tug into your core, to hear it in such reverence. With heavy breath, you lean back and watch as his lips try to chase you. 
Morpheus stops himself short when he sees you raising slightly, hand moving between the two of you and firmly grabbing at his cock. You guide himself under you, teasing him a bit more by sliding his tip across the length of your slit. His mouth opens in protest, but before words can come out, you sink yourself onto him. 
Harmonious groans tangled with each other at the feeling. The familiar stretch of him leaves you panting above him. Your warmth was incomparable to your hands or mouth and Morpheus’ nails left small crevices in your thighs. The slight pain grounds you from drifting off into a complete world of pleasure. It takes a few moments for you to start moving your hips, the size of him taking a few moments to adjust to. The first drag of his cock in you leaves you shaking already. It had been too long since you had last felt the touch of his skin against yours. 
With your hands bracing themselves on his chest, you begin your bounces, keeping a rhythm that you like. Morpheus is like putty beneath your fingers, grasping at any part of you that he could in his throes of pleasure. His hair is beyond tussled, his lips dry and parted as noises accompany the slap of your thighs against his. 
Each bounce makes his tip kiss against your cervix, your walls fluttering around him in a vice like grip at how well you took him. It was familiar but exciting each time you took him again and again. The smell of sex accompanies the smell of burning wood on the floor as your thighs shake in exhaustion. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You whine out as you realize your rhythm starts to slow down. 
You settle to grind on him instead, loving the way the new maneuver has his tip rubbing against the spongy spot in you. You gasp with your head thrown back as you’re about to reach your peak. 
Morpheus stares at you in awe, sweat highlights your skin in the lowlight and your breasts bounce with each grind you push down onto him. Your hands brace themselves on his thighs as you feel your orgasm impeding slowly into your system. Just a few more like this and you would be done for and Morpheus would soon follow. 
Another mischievous idea pops into your head through the haze of pleasure. With the remainder of your strength, you rise, letting his cock slip out of you. Morpheus whines this time, unable to hold it back as his hands grip your waist trying to pull you back onto him, to let you ride him into oblivion. 
You feel his heat as you hover over his cock, panting into his neck. You may have denied your own orgasm, but seeing his teary and begging eyes was exactly what you wanted. His chest heaves with annoyance as a familiar frown makes its way onto his face. 
“What do you think you are doing? I am going to kill you,” He accuses beneath you. The insult leaves his mouth but both of you know he would never follow through with it. 
“I think… ha…” You’re still panting, cardio has never been your strong suit. “I think I’m too tired. I should turn in for the night, my love.” 
“Surely you are joking,” He laughs void of any actual amusement. 
“No, no, I’m just sooo tired. Yeah.” You fake a yawn as you unstraddle his waist. 
His eyes trail you as you stand on wobbly legs, using the couch as a crutch as a halfway point to your shared bed. 
“Absolutely not,” He comments as his hand brings you down again having you kneeling before the couch.
He’s quick to appear behind you, running his fingers down your spine to rest on your hip. The sensation leaves you weak and limp, bracing on the seat of the couch and resting your head on your arms. A kiss to the center of your shoulder blades is the only warning he gives before he inserts himself into you again. 
Morpheus doesn’t wait as he picks up a brutal pace, each thrust he gives you communicating his frustrations. The legs of the furniture scratch the floor beneath it as it rocks with your body. You’re left, once again, panting in pleasure at the drag of his cock within your walls. 
His grip on your hip is enough to bruise, to remind you of your passionate night the day after. His other hand snakes in front of your neck, pushing your face upwards, scattering your broken moans into the air. 
The orgasm you denied yourself comes back with full force, your eyes shutting as you feel it searing through you. With help from Morpheus, as he thrusts forward into you, your lower lips clamp down onto him, releasing your cum over the front of his highs in a satisfying orgasm. Your back bows forward at the release and you’re left panting into the cushions. 
“Let me cum,” He weakly commands as he feels your slick coating him.
“Please, yes! Cum,” You moan, riding through your orgasm as he continues pumping into you. 
He bites down on your shoulder, his groan muffled between your skin as he climaxes into you. His cock twitches in you as he cum releases into the deepest part of your being. You feel as if your mind is full of cobwebs as he stays in you, keeping you full until his erection turns soft. 
The softness of your shared bed barely registers in your mind as he moves the two of you over. The blanket is placed over your naked bodies and he pulls you close. His lips press into your temple as he chants mantras of his devotion to you as you fall asleep in his arms a satisfied smile on his face. 
This time, Morpheus has learned his lesson as he stares adoringly at your peaceful face. How could he ever forget something like that?
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Time to get back to that angst fic, but we can enjoy this as like... a palate cleanser or something
I'm now on Ao3! The fics are very slowly getting added when I have the energy to. I never knew how in-depth the tagging system went and I get tired looking at it...
♡ Yours, Layla
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hunny-beann · 5 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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swanimagines · 2 months
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LOST DREAMS | MORPHEUS
Summary: Your ancestor was cursed by Morpheus long ago so the women in your family would be plagued with eternal wakefulness, but you don't believe in the curse or that some ancient Greek god was the cause of it, like your grandmother always told you about. Doctors have told you that the only reason they can think of is most likely a severe case of ADHD in the family and that's why you never feel sleepy. But then you get a job at a Burgess mansion and find something in the basement that makes your grandmother's stories sounding not so crazy after all...
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Even on her deathbed, your grandma had talked about the "curse" she claimed the whole family suffered from. You could see how it can be seen as a curse, never feeling sleepy and how you always had energy for everything - because of that, you had had plenty of boring moments every day and it did suck. Not to mention, your friends talking about how funny and good dreams they have had always sparked jealousy within you. It was something you had never experienced.
Doctors had researched you since you were a baby, but they couldn't pinpoint a reason for being unable to fall asleep either. They had you running from test to test, even sent you to another country for more tests with a world top sleep disorder clinic, but nothing worked. Some doctors were afraid that your condition is a type of fatal insomnia, and that you were slowly dying. But those were knocked down too with brain scans, and after your grandma and mother could testify that they had been exactly the same since birth, doctors were facing yet another puzzle. The condition was absolutely unheard of. You heard stories that someone in your family had been burned as a witch for not sleeping, which ultimately made you believe it's something running in the family.
And after some debating between doctors, they too decided that it's an extremely rare type of ADHD, the most severe there is, and your family are the first ones it's been detected to have. They also believed that something in your brains had aligned so perfectly that you not sleeping doesn't affect the brains negatively and expressed their will to be able to take your brains for medical research.
Your grandmother, however, wasn't keen on that thought. She had made up her mind that it's the ancient Greek god Morpheus who had cursed you with it, and nothing would be found from her brains.
"Mother, Morpheus is an ancient Greek god. He's not real," you remember your mother saying as you were visiting your grandma in the hospital. "There's also no thing as curses or magic."
Your grandma had pursed her lips and shook her head. "Oh my dear foolish girl, you just don't understand it. Our ancestor, many centuries ago, was Morpheus' lover, and-"
"She rejected him, we all remember," you interrupted. "He cursed her and everyone in her family to never feel tired."
Your grandma had let out a long breath through her nose. "No, he cursed the women with it. Not men. It is said that he became enraged when his lover refused his kingdom, and when she passed away, he took revenge by striking down all of us with this curse, preventing us from getting proper rest. And now, you're the newest one of our family to carrying the curse. Your future daughters will carry it too, and it will be passed on to their daughters in turn."
You had sighed in chorus with your mother, your grandma had always been clearly delusional about it. Likely brainwashed by her own mother, who had been brainwashed by her mother and so on. But you and your mother were new generation, who didn't believe in such absurd stories and had reliable medical research under your fingertips but unfortunately, you had had to listen your grandma talking about it all your childhood.
When your grandma had passed away, you moved out from your hometown and settling to a nice little town in southern England. You got a job as a cleaner-occasional cook-extra pay caretaker in a fancy mansion owned by an elderly couple, and life was good.
But every mansion has its mysteries, and this mansion had one too. A secret door with a hidden passcode tablet, and only some could go in. No one, besides the guards or Alex and Paul, really knew what was behind it, and no one dared to find it out for themselves. After all, everyone knew that if Alex found out that his servant was going into the room, he would likely fire them, so no one dared to try their luck.
No one, except you. You knew how to get in, and even though you never tried before, you had the feeling that it would work. So you had gone in secretly in the middle of the night, your "curse" as your little helper. You had succeeded in distracting the guards and crept your way down the stairs.
You came to a large, dark hall and you swallowed as you switched the light on. The lights blinded you for a moment, and you raised your arm in front of your eyes, before slowly peeking through and your heart jumped a little upon seeing a figure sitting there. It was a man, who was inside a large glass sphere, not even looking at you gawking at him. Then you realised that he was naked, and quickly turned your head away from his lower regions.
"I'm sorry, I...I..." You stuttered, your voice croaking. "I didn't think there's someone here. Everyone is so mysterious and I wanted to see what is it that is kept here. Wait, you... you aren't kept here as a prisoner, are you?"
The man didn't reply, but his eyes shifted at you, and you felt like a mouse caught in the stare of an owl. His gaze was intense, and a shiver ran down your spine.
You took it as a yes. "Can I help you? Can I do anything?" you continued nervously.
The man kept quiet, but you caught something in his eyes, something which looked like disbelief. You opened your mouth to speak again, but then closed it. You glanced over your shoulder before taking a step towards the sphere, and noticed strange vigils in a circle on the ground.
"What's this?" you asked, still somehow wishing the man would say something. Even when you knew he wouldn't. But his gaze was on the circle now too and he cocked his head slightly at it.
"This sounds stupid, but it looks like a summoning circle. I've probably watched supernatural movies a little too much," you chuckled. The man slowly raised his eyes on you again, and then back down again. You frowned. "Do you... want me to break it?" you asked hesitantly.
The man's piercing blue eyes once again met yours. Then he, very slowly, nodded.
You swallowed hard and stepped forward, fingers trembling as you touched the circle with your foot. It immediately felt like some unknown force was pulling at you, like you were being pulled towards it and you made a stroke, erasing a small segment of the circle.
You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and heard noise from the stairway and immediately panicked, looking at the man and then sprinting towards the light. You turned it off and made your way to the farthest corner of the basement, hoping no one would notice you once lights were on.
After a few moments, you heard a chair scrape the stone floor and carefully peered towards the doorway. The other guard had come back and was reading a newspaper. You watched as the man in the glass sphere slowly stood up, pressing his hands on the glass and suddenly, all hell was loose.
A wind surged through the room, knocking the doors open and making a terrible sound. You covered your ears, before realising it wasn't just the wind. There was a bright light, you saw the figure of that man climbing out of the sphere and you screamed, not knowing what was happening.
Suddenly, the guard was on the ground and another bright light appeared. Then the man in the glass sphere was gone, just like that. The light, the wind and the noise had all stopped the moment that man had gone and you slowly got up. Your knees buckled but you forced yourself to go upstairs, to pretend you were never there. You were shaken. What had happened?
---
Some time after that, you were preparing yourself for another book marathon. You didn't feel like watching Netflix right now, so books it was. But then something happened, something that had never happened before.
You fell asleep. You put your head on the pillow and began reading when you were taken over this strange feeling of wanting to close your eyes, so you did. And sleep came. Suddenly, you were transferred in front of a huge castle, dragons and fairies flying over you and a sweet smell that tickled your nose. And you were sure you had lost your mind.
"Hello," a deep voice said from beside you and you twirled around to see the man from the sphere in front of you. Now, fortunately, fully dressed. He smiled and you stared at him, confused.
"How- How are you here?" You asked, frowning. This was absurd, almost like a... dream?
"You're dreaming," the man confirmed your suspicion. Your eyes widened.
"What? H-how?"
"I lifted the curse. So you could meet me."
You blinked. "C-curse?"
"Yes. A long time ago, I cursed a woman who didn't accept my proposal, when I asked her to be my queen when she died. So I told her that every woman who is born in her family, will be cursed by eternal wakefulness." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "I was bitter and inconsiderate when I did that, taken by my feelings and sadness."
"Wait, so... my grandmother was right? You... you are..."
"Morpheus, the King of Dreams." He smirked. "Your kind thinks I'm just a story, but I exist, in fact. The whole dream realm exists, and we can't tell stories without dreams."
You still stood there, dumfounded. "You lifted the curse so I'm... I'm able to sleep and dream now?"
Morpheus smiled slightly. "Yes. As a thank you for releasing me."
You blinked again, and then took in your surroundings. A dragon sat next to you, its wings spread wide and a fairy sitting on top of it, playing with some sort of crystal ball.
"If I may, I can show you around the realm?" Morpheus offered and you gave him a nod. "Very well. Follow me."
You started walking with him, and in a few minutes, you arrived at a forest. The trees were tall and wide, with red flowers blooming everywhere. On your left, you could hear the sound of water flowing and on your right, a waterfall. A beautiful place, one that you wanted to stay in forever.
"There is a lake not far from here, where the fairies usually gather. It is very beautiful, would you like to see it?" Morpheus suggested and you nodded. "Follow me."
He walked into the woods, and shortly after that, you reached the lake. The water sparkled in the sunlight, and the land surrounding it was green. Many little houses were built around the edges, and you couldn't help but stare at them. They reminded you of dollhouses, and you quickly realised that they were where fairies lived.
"This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen," you murmured.
"It is." Morpheus agreed. "Would you like to see my palace?"
You looked at him questioningly and he smiled.
"The house of the king of dreams is located in the heart of the realm. You need my permission to enter it, and only a few may. But you have earned my trust."
You nodded. "Thank you."
He smiled again. "Then follow me."
You walked out of the forest, and suddenly were met with the palace once again. It was bigger than you expected, even though you had been expecting it to be big. The garden was large and full of flowers, while the inside was decorated in a warm golden colour, with paintings hanging from the walls. He led you to the library, and you looked around at the bookshelves and the many old manuscripts.
"I heard you like books, so I thought you would like this," Morpheus said, smiling. "You can read whatever you want."
"Really?" You gasped, and his smile grew slightly. "Thank you!"
You went through the endless shelves, looking at all the books you could see. Some you recognised, others you hadn't seen before. Morpheus stood there for a moment, before exiting the room.
Dreams were even more magical than anyone had ever told you, and you couldn't wait to see a whole new world of them.
---
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7-wonders · 8 months
Text
Wishful Drinking
Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader
Summary: After Morpheus cruelly dismisses you, you decide that you'll get back at him by staying out of the Dreaming one night for as long as you can. What you don't anticipate is letting your feelings get the best of you and getting very drunk instead.
Or, drunk shenanigans galore!
Word Count: 3.5k
Author's Note: I don't know what this is, y'all. I haven't written anything in more than a month, and it was so tough to even write this, but I wanted to write SOMETHING. As always, hope you enjoyed, let me know your thoughts, and likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.
ALSO! Dream logic applies here, in that you're still drunk when you reach the Dreaming.
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Listen.
You know that certain coping mechanisms, like, say, going out clubbing with your friends and getting crazy drunk for the first time in a long time, aren’t exactly healthy. But things have been difficult for you lately! You’ve been struggling a lot, in both your professional and personal life. These hardships are only compounded by the fact that the one person (or person-shaped being) in your life that you thought you could count on, your Morpheus, has been too busy to have time for you.
Literally. He said those exact words to you a mere three days ago, when you had found him in his personal study (a study that he almost never used) after what felt like a day spent chasing him around the Dreaming. You meant for it to come out as teasing when you took note of the fact that you hardly saw him around lately and that it felt like he was purposefully avoiding you, but he had sighed and glared at you before saying, “I have much to do, and I am far too busy to entertain you right now.”
You glowered, but, as he said, he was too busy to see it. Fine, you thought as you turned around and stalked out of his study. Leave him to his business. 
Cut to today. When your friends asked if you wanted to go out with them, you almost said no, having gotten accustomed in the past couple of months to the routine of going to bed by nine o’clock in order to maximize time spent in your lover’s realm. But then, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you didn’t want to just continue sitting around in the Dreaming and hoping that Morphues would come out of whatever funk he was in. After all, why should you make an effort when he won’t? You’re not about to beg for his attention.
With that in mind, you texted back that you very much wanted to go out with them and proceeded to get ready for a fun night out.
The plan was to have a couple of drinks, dance for a bit, and stay out of the Dreaming just long enough to make Morpheus sweat a bit.
But then shots had been ordered.
And your friend bought you a drink because they knew you had had a tough week.
And you bought yourself two drinks.
And a group of guys bought you another round of shots, and though you all laughed at the fact that they were not getting anything out of this, you still took them because you weren’t about to turn down free alcohol.
This leads to you and your friends stumbling out of a bar at two in the morning, holding each other up as you do. Definitely not the plan, but what’s that one quote about plans and mice and men?
“What about a mouse?” your friend asks from beside you, making you realize that you said that out loud.
“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” you say.
Somehow, you make it into a Lyft (thank the gods for friends who don’t get carried away), and somehow, you make it into your home. Not without its difficulties–you dropped your keys multiple times on the walk to your front door, and there might be a you-shaped indent in the entryway wall from where you fell into it when trying to kick your shoes off. 
When you reach your bedroom, you decide that actually, the floor looks comfier than your bed does. You’re so drunk that the room feels like it’s spinning when you lay down, and you close your eyes to enjoy the ride.
“Fuck, I’m so drunk right now,” you say out loud, laughing at the sound of your slurred words.
You don’t mean to fall asleep, really. You know that you need to crawl to the bathroom to wash your face and find enough dexterity to change clothes before hopefully sobering up just enough that you can make it to the kitchen to grab painkillers and water for the inevitable killer hangover you’re going to have tomorrow. The floor is just so soft, though, and you work yourself into a trance-like state by staring up at the ceiling fan and watching it go around and around and around. On one blink, you’re staring at your ceiling.
And on the next, you’re staring at another ceiling, one that’s not really a ceiling at all, but an entire galaxy above your head.
It’s easy to get lost in the magnificent colors swirling above you (especially in your current state), and you do, until you hear someone calling your name. When you look away from the universe, you see the love of your life looking at you, though at present, he is not reciprocating the heart eyes that you are always looking at him with.
“Where have you been?” Morpheus demands.
“Morpheus, my love!” You throw your arms out and grin. “I’ve missed you.”
“Do you have any idea how worried I have been? I sent Matthew to find you hours ago when first you were late, only for him to report that he could not find you at your home.” You’re a little surprised that Matthew hadn’t managed to track you down; your little raven friend was almost scarily good at finding people/places/things.
“Aw, you’ve missed me?” It makes sense, of course; after all, you’ve missed him, so it’s only natural that he would miss you in return. Still, the sentiment makes you feel all warm and melty on the inside.
 It’s obvious to anybody who actually takes the time to know Morpheus—a tiny list of people and beings, two of whom are in the room with him right now—that he’s fighting a war between wanting to scold you and wanting to hold you and check you up and down for wounds. Morpheus crosses the room towards you, and you ready yourself for the inevitable lecture you’re about to get, about how you’re just a fragile little human and he worries every moment that you’re away from him (y’know, now that you have the clarity of a drunk person, you’re actually annoyed that this is constantly coming from the being that’s meant to be your lover).
But that’s not what happens.
Instead, you find his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in your neck. He’s hugging you, not the other way around. He’s never done such a thing before, and you don’t know how to react. What you do know is that any of the residual anger you had been feeling drains out of you like water from an unstoppered bathtub. You really didn’t think that being away for—the math isn’t mathing for you currently, and you don’t actually know how long it’s been—a couple of hours would affect him this much.
“You are the one most dear to my heart,” he mutters into your ear, cognizant of the fact that you are not alone in this throne room. “Of course, I missed you.”
“Oh. When you said you were ‘too busy to entertain’ me, I just kinda assumed you wouldn’t notice I was gone.” Though you don’t mean to weaponize your words, the poison darts make contact with their target anyway, and Morpheus stiffens in your hold.
“Are you alright?” he asks instead, choosing to wait until a later time to have this particular conversation.
“Aw, dream boy” you coo, snaking a hand up to clumsily run it through his hair. “I’m okay baby, swear it! Like, absolutely, one hundred percent fine.”
Morpheus pulls away from you so that he can look you up and down to confirm that you really are okay. “You smell like a pub,” he notes. 
“How can you tell that in the Dreaming?”
He ignores your question when a realization seems to hit him. “Are you inebriated?”
“No, I’m drunk,” you correct very matter-of-factly.
“That is–” he stops, choosing instead to just shake his head.
“Oh, dear,” Lucienne mutters from behind Morpheus, reminding you of her presence in the first place.
“Lucienne! Hi! How have you been!” 
You crane around Morpheus to be able to see your favorite librarian, but you almost fall over in the process. Before you can tip too far over, Morpheus is there to right you again. When he does, he looks down at you with quite the serious expression on his perfect face.
“Who did this to you?” he asks, ready to punish whoever put you in such a state.
“Vodka. Rum, maybe?” You think back on your drinks for the evening, though it’s hard to think back that far. “Yeah, the second round of shots was definitely rum.”
“You put yourself in this state?”
“Yes?” Has Morpheus never heard of the concept of going out and getting shitfaced with your pals? “To be fair, I didn’t think that my drunkenness would…” You search for the word that you want to use, but it’s just not coming to you! “Uh, carry over?”
“Please tell me you managed to make it home safely?”
You nod. “Sure did! Pretty sure I fell asleep on the floor, though.”
Lucienne slowly begins to back up towards the door, and Morpheus stares at you for a long moment before sighing heavily.
“Are you mad at me?” you ask nervously, starting to get upset the longer the silence drags on. Did you say something that you shouldn’t have? Is there a rule you don’t know about against sleeping on floors?
Instead of answering you, Morpheus waves a hand in the air and says, “This dream is over.” 
You’re awake and once again staring up at your ceiling fan, only this time, Morpheus is also in your line of sight. It’s impossible to stop yourself from touching him when you’re sober, so it’s not at all surprising that your hands go up to caress his face now when you’re drunk.
“Hi cutie,” you greet, laughing in delight when he flushes just the slightest amount.
He grabs your hands and kisses the back of both before setting them against your chest. “Why are you sleeping on your floor?”
“Because,” is your simple, childish reply.
“That is not a good answer.”
“It’s the one you get because it’s the one I have.” You throw in a peace sign to be extra spicy, but Morpheus, unfortunately, doesn’t comprehend your 21st-century humor, and instead just segues into the next order of business.
“Might I help you up, so that we can get you properly ready for bed?”
“But I’m comfy,” you groan. Morpheus is not buying what you’re selling, unfortunately, so you sigh. “Fine.”
Morpheus holds his hands out for you to take and helps you to your feet. Too fast, apparently, because the room begins to spin and your stomach tilts dangerously, making you clap a hand over your mouth.
“Oh no. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy,” you chant, squeezing your eyes shut and laying your head against Morpheus’s shoulder while you try to breathe through sudden nausea. You will not throw up on your super hot eldritch nightmare king boyfriend, you command yourself. Not tonight, and not ever.
“What is wrong?” Morpheus sounds panicked, and you want to reassure him, but you hold up a finger in the meantime.
When the nausea finally passes, you take a deep breath and slowly look up. “Okay, I think I’m good now.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Sometimes drinking too much combined with moving too fast makes people feel sick. It’s my fault, but I’ll be okay.”
“Are you well enough to move?”
“Yes, I promise.” 
To prove your point, you let go of his hand and start walking heel to toe as the police require during field sobriety tests (honestly, you’re a little surprised that you can actually do this right now). You can practically feel your lover's amusement behind you, but it proves to him that you are capable. Morpheus lets you walk to the bathroom on your own power, and you think the only reason he doesn’t sweep you off your feet is because he’s worried you’ll throw up if he does. He watches you intently the entire time, though. 
You sit on the lip of the bathtub, watching Morpheus move about your bathroom as though he knows where everything is; he probably does, you realize, whether it be from that endless wealth of knowledge about everyone and everything that he possesses, or just his familiarity with your home. After rummaging around for a few moments, he comes back with a washcloth and your favorite pajamas. The sight of the familiar material makes you tear up, and you sniffle loudly.
Morpheus looks up in alarm. “Are you okay?”
“You remembered my favorite pajamas,” you say, trying to not start crying. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s come directly to see you off to his realm, and you’ve probably worn those pajamas twice. Yet he remembered the one-off comment you had made about how they were your favorite because of course he did.
His face softens. “Of course I did.”
You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. “Sorry. I’m okay! Just drunk.”
Morpheus hands you said pajamas before turning the faucet on and letting the water run. He seems to realize something after a moment and looks at you helplessly. “I do not feel temperature as you do. Is the water alright?” 
You grin and stick your hand under the faucet, moving the tap just a smidge hotter before nodding at him. “It’s good now. Thank you for asking.”
He begins to run the damp washcloth gently over your face, a barely-there smile appearing on his own when you wrinkle your nose at the cool sensations. Where this situation would be awkward with anybody else, it feels entirely natural with Morpheus. You’ll take these little moments of domesticity with him whenever you can get them, even when you’re still half drunk.
Even if you wanted to, you can’t hold yourself back from saying, “You’re so beautiful, do you know that? Seriously, you’re the prettiest man-slash-anthropomorphic-personification I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” The words are heavy on your tongue, but you’re pretty proud of the way you only barely stumble through ‘anthropomorphic’.
“You are still under the influence,” he notes.
“So? Drunk words equal sober thoughts, right?”
“‘A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.’ Jean-Jacques Rosseau,” he supplies.
“Sure, that. I’d tell you how pretty you are even if I was sober, and you know that.”
“Perhaps.” He says it in that infuriatingly sexy way of his, the one that makes you want to tear his clothes off.
Instead, you’re the one taking your own clothes off, though not for any fun reason. Getting changed is not as difficult a task as it would have been when you first arrived home, with the benefit of time naturally sobering one up on your side. Morpheus still keeps a hand held out, just in case you lose your balance and need something to grab onto, but after you’ve finished changing, that hand slips under your shirt and caresses your side.
“Thought you were supposed to be helping me keep my clothes on,” you say with a shiver, grabbing his wrist and pulling the offending extremity out from under your shirt.
“Apologies.” His tone implies that he’s not sorry at all, not that you would want him to be. “I simply couldn’t resist.”
He looks down at you with so much love in those blue eyes of his that you feel like you don’t think your mortal mind could ever truly comprehend it. Nobody has ever loved you the way that Morpheus has—all-consuming and passionate. He told you once that many of his relationships had ended because he had been seen as too intense, too obsessive in his love. Bring it on, you had told him when he expected you to back down. To date, you haven’t regretted that.
You don’t think you ever will.
Now that you can see the end of your night in sight, tiredness begins to seep into your bones. Though your bed is just right through the bathroom door, it feels miles away. With that in mind, you ask,  “Will you carry me?” 
“Were you not worried that you would feel sick?”
“Yeah, but I’m tired.” You pout (on purpose because you know what it does to him), and you can practically see his resolve break. “Just be careful?”
“Always,” he promises.
And careful he is, slowly picking you up and waiting until you nod to carry you to your bed. He sets you down gently, You’re thrilled to see a glass of water already waiting for you on your bedside table, Morpheus anticipating your needs before you’ve even realized you have them in the first place.
Crawling under the covers after finishing your water, you motion for Morpheus to sit next to you on the bed. He does as you ask, and you move your pillows so that you can sit up and lean on him. When you’re comfortable, you say, “Thank you for everything tonight. I know taking care of me wasn’t what you had planned.”
“You need not thank me. I enjoy caring for you, no matter the situation.” 
Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his hand carding through your hair, and you start to feel yourself inching closer to the Dreaming. Something keeps you from truly falling asleep, though, and when Morpheus shifts next to you, you realize what it is: the conversation’s not over. Morpheus is trying to figure out how to say what it is he wants to say.
Finally, he figures it out. “Might I ask you something?”
You open your eyes to give him your full attention and nod.
“Earlier, when you seemed surprised that I had noticed your absence. Did you do this,” ‘this’ being getting very drunk, “because of what I said?”
“No. I mean, I went out because I was mad at you, and I figured that me being a couple of hours late would make you learn your lesson, but I got drunk because I wanted to have fun with my friends and let loose.”
“And did you?”
“Maybe a little too much,” you admit cheekily.
“I apologize for my harsh words the other day. I have been…feeling burdened under the weight of my realm, and I took it out on you for no reason.”
“It’s okay, Morpheus. You’re busy running an entire realm and overseeing the collective unconscious. I shouldn’t be so needy.”
He shakes his head. “It is not okay. I should never talk to you in such a way, and you should never feel as though I do not want you around. I do want you around, always.”
“People say things that they don’t mean. That doesn’t mean they’re not worthy of forgiveness. But you gotta talk to me, okay? When you’re feeling stressed, or when things get to be too much. I’m here for you, and I want to support you however I can.”
“I love you,” he says. The fact that he’s being so open with his emotions is a pleasant surprise; it took him so long to be the first to say it, and even longer to be comfortable with it. You smile up at him.
“I love you, too. Stay with me until I fall asleep?”
“Of course.”
Morpheus turns your bedroom light off without you needing to ask (seriously, you love him so much), and you close your eyes. Then, a thought hits you.
“Hey,” you say, staring up at him in the dark and waiting until he looks at you to continue. “Can you get drunk?”
“No.”
“Why not? I mean, isn’t there special alcohol for preternatural beings? You’d think gods and goddesses would’ve figured out a way to get turnt by now.”
Though he doesn’t want to give in to your rambling when you’re meant to be trying to fall asleep, he can’t help but indulge you. “Gods and goddesses can. We, the Endless, cannot.”
“What? That’s so fucking lame. No. That’s–that’s an injustice! I’m so sorry.
“I promise, it is okay. Now, please go to sleep.”
You nod, but close your eyes for maybe thirty seconds before they snap open again with a realization. “Wait.”
“What?”
“You mentioned other gods and goddesses. How many are there? Are they all real? Is actual God real? I mean, I know the devil is real, you kicked their ass for your helm, but for some reason that’s more believable than–”
“Go. To. Sleep,” Morpheus commands.
“Ugh, you’re no fun!”
“I am not afraid to use my sand if need be.”
“You wouldn’t.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and he raises one right back. After a brief stalemate, you’re the first to give in. “You have to understand how world-altering this information is to a regular human like me, I mean–”
You’re asleep before your head hits the pillow.
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withoutyouimsaskia · 6 months
Text
Don't Stop (Sandman One-Shot)
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​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
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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.
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Tag List: @herfantasyworldd @shadowqueen1318
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dyns33 · 3 months
Text
For a smile
Dream of the Endless x female reader, sweet fools as ever
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Following the formalization of their relationship, Morpheus had been very clear with Y/N on two points.
He wasn't dancing, and he wasn't laughing.
Regarding the first point, he never gave a real explanation, simply refusing to move as Y/N spun around him to the music, frozen like a statue and calmly repeating that he didn't dance, ever.
Concerning his laughter, she had managed to make him laugh several times, and it quickly became apparent that he was simply ashamed, because this laughter was quite peculiar, to use simple and neutral terms, since the dreams master was easily hurt. It was likely that he was also simply ashamed of the way he danced.
Y/N had made the decision not to force him to do things he didn't like or that made him uncomfortable. It seemed normal in a relationship after all, even if Morpheus had some difficulty with the concept at first.
Fortunately they had talked about it, and he had come to accept his mortal lover's requests, even if he didn't understand them all.
“Why do you want me to knock on your door to enter your home ?”
"Because maybe I'm busy or with someone."
"… Do you have things to hide from me, agápi mou ?"
"No, but it's just being polite. I know I enter your kingdom every night without really asking you, but you sense that I'm coming. For my part, I almost have a heart attack every time you appear behind me without making a sound."
"I can send Matthew to let you know I'm coming so you won't be surprised."
"Dream. The door."
“Very well, agápi mou.”
"… I'm really not hiding anything from you, you know ?"
“I know, I was just saying that to tease you.”
It was sometimes difficult to know what Morpheus was thinking.
Not always, because the Dreaming reflected his mood without him being able to do anything about it, and he had difficulty with certain feelings, like sadness or anger.
But joy. Dream of the Endless had difficulty expressing joy.
It wasn't just the laughter that was the problem. He rarely smiled. So rarely that Y/N almost jumped the first time she saw this wonder appear on his face, and he had no excuse to hide this sweetness from her. His skin hadn't cracked, his features hadn't distorted, he was even more handsome than usual.
Y/N dreamed of seeing him smile more often, if not always. But his lips remained frozen in a flat, imperturbable line most of the time.
The few times the smile appeared, it was sudden, so vivid that you only had to click your eyes at the wrong time to miss it, and each time it was as if Y/N was seeing it for the first time.
A pure marvel.
In order not to scare Morpheus, who tended to act like a wild cat, Y/N tried not to stare too much or show interest. As discreetly as possible, she nevertheless did everything to make him offer her this spectacle.
Most of the time it worked, but Dream also smiled without her needing to do anything, simply because she said or did something he found charming.
“Are you still trying to hear my laugh ?”
"Not at all ! I swore I wouldn't do it again. Why ?"
“You’ve been terribly distracted and affectionate lately, agápi mou.”
"I'm just happy to be with you." She said, resting her head on his shoulder, her arms around him. "You're very distracting, and huggable."
"It is rather you who deserves such adjectives. I have a lot of difficulty concentrating on my task. Your presence in my domain monopolizes all my attention, and I only think of you when you are awake, waiting for your returning or fighting the urge to visit you in the Waking."
"Flatterer."
Her response made him smile again and Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach.
When Morpheus talked about needing to see her, Y/N could understand the feeling. She felt the same way about him, but also about his smile.
She asked the inhabitants of the Dreaming for advice. Lucienne thought poems might help. Abel had time to respond that talking about old stories would give him pleasure, before Cain planted an axe in his head, saying that she could confide secrets to the nightmares master. Mervyn made some rather indecent comments about strawberries and a bed. Matthew simply begged her to keep the Dreaming from raining again.
“It’s adorable that you try to make him smile, but you know him, I know him, if he misunderstands something, it will be a disaster.”
“Why would he take it badly that I wanted to make him smile ?”
"He might think you're mocking him. He's very sensitive, this guy."
"I don't know what he went through before we were together, but I would never make fun of him. I just want him to be happy."
"I know, kid. But does he know that ?"
She should have listened, and remembered once again that Dream was a big, timid cat, unaccustomed to receiving signs of affection. He didn't hate that she surrounded him with love, but he seemed lost that it was so common.
Such an outburst of passion could only be linked to madness, and he knew that Y/N was not in his younger sister's domain. Maybe she wanted to get something in return.
After some time, Y/N then got the exact opposite of what she was looking for. Each of her romantic or generous actions received an almost frightened look from Morpheus, his entire face resembling that of a marble statue, devoid of a smile.
She might have been afraid if she hadn't known he would never hurt her. Following the many mistakes he had made in the past with his lovers, Dream had ended up learning certain things, like keeping calm, and trying to communicate.
The key word being 'trying'.
"Ilie mou, you offer me so much affection, what can I give you in return ? Is your sleep disturbed ? Are you lacking inspiration ? Do you have a particular need ?"
"No. Everything is fine." Y/N replied, not understanding that his questions were full of confusion and fear.
"… I see. Is it honey then ? A little sweetness before having to announce something bitter ?"
"If it's a poem, it's quite strange. I don't have any honey, Morpheus. Would you like some tea ?"
He ended up believing that she wanted to leave him, but without knowing how to tell him, too kind or worried that he would react violently like with the others before her.
The thought crossed his mind that the process was far too cruel for Y/N. It seemed absurd to shower him with love in order to protect his feelings, only to tell him right after that she didn't love him anymore.
But it happened that some beings were thinking with their hearts, not listening to reason, and it was always possible that his beloved had not seen that far.
"I knew it… It's raining."
"Why do you say that like I'm responsible ? He might be saddened by something else, Matthew."
"He would have talked to you about it. Or he would have talked to me about it. He would have talked to someone about it. He loves to complain when it concerns his family or his work. Everyone needs to know that he is the poor wretch who has done nothing wrong and is trying to save the world. But for private matters ? He hides in a corner."
"… But he has no reason to be sad. It's true that he seems worried lately, but everything is fine between us."
It was a conversation as surreal as it was depressing, having to explain to the dreams lord that all the attention he had received for several weeks had no hidden meaning, no tragic end, but only the desire to make him happy and to see him smile, without expecting anything else in return.
That, he could understand. Morpheus loved seeing Y/N smile. It was just the fact that someone might care about him that was new to him. Absurd. Not deserved.
"Besides, agápi mou, I am happy in every moment spent with you. I tell you as soon as you ask me. Why so much fuss about my mouth ?"
“Don’t say that sentence again in that voice, I might faint.”
"So it's a question of aesthetics ? Don't you like my 'sulky goth teenager look' ?"
“I never said such a thing.”
“No, Matthew said so.”
"Hmm. I won't deny that you look beautiful when you smile and that's a plus. But I love you, even when you pout."
“I’m not pouting.”
"Of course not."
“I love you too, Ilie mou.” he said, kissing her.
Y/N’s response was to stare at him with wide eyes. Dream stared back, raising an eyebrow. She raised both, as a challenge, continuing to look at him, before she couldn't suppress her smile.
He rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop his lips from curling. The message was clear, even though they knew they were happy together, it was still nice to see their loved ones' faces lit up like that.
As with many things, it wasn't usual for the Endless, but smiling came naturally in Y/N's presence, so it shouldn't be too difficult to please her. Maybe one day they will even dance.
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Text
heavenly. ~ morpheus x reader (18+)
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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
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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.
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thank you for reading! <3
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auroraborealyss · 2 years
Text
𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬' 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐈.
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⊹ 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
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⊹ previous part: morpheus' love languages part i.
⊹ now playing: take me to church by hozier
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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 𝗉����𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀.
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╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!
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𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @aurorarevenclaw1927
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5K notes · View notes
darklinsblog · 2 years
Text
Sexy times with Morpheus would include…
Author’s note: Yes, I mean sexual activity I didn’t want to be too explicit with the title but filth ahead, be aware 👹
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Morpheus is a highly sexual being but he does believe any sexual act to be a truly intimate moment, so if he wants to go at it, congrats! The Endless trusts you
Before you actually do the deeds, he wants to know exactly what you like and what you don’t, the more specific you are, the better. He wants to make sure your needs are being met
Once he’s had you for the first time, he just can’t stop thinking about you
So he comes up with any excuse he can think of to get you two alone
“Y/N? Would you mind helping me with some research?”
You were the object of research
He enjoys foreplay, because of the power you are able to give him over you, to feel your knees buckle at his touch.
Enjoys taking his time with you
His favorite thing is to undress you and take a minute to admire your naked figure
You know he’s horny when he kisses your neck
He is vocal asf on sex
Loves to kiss your whole body
He’s the love making kind of guy
Constantly makes sure you’re enjoying it as much as him
Careful not to hurt you
“ Are you okay, princess?”
But he DEFINITELY knows how to play rough
King of praising
“You’re exquisite”
He likes you to be loud, but he would much rather you moaning in his ear
Has a thing for doing it on his throne
Likes to pull your hair
Also likes you to pull his hair
If you’re a dominant, he will practically beg for you to ride him, he loves to see you have that sexual confidence.
If you are more submissive he isn’t afraid to take charge, he will treat you like one of his dreams, a creation made for his pleasure.
He uses your dreams to know and fulfill your deepest, darkest desires.
He isn’t a selfish lover, in fact, quite the opposite
Puts your pleasure before his, he makes you cum at least one time before he does
He is a master at eating you out like you’re a feast
He goes deep
Just being inside you is enough to make him lose his mind
Loves to mark you in places nobody but else him can see
Let’s you mark him as well
He may not actually say it, but he loves when you scratch his back
Speaking of not actually saying things… he also likes you to go down on him but he’s too polite and correct to actually vocalize it
When you do go down he’s careful not to get too excited and pull you down roughly
His guilty pleasure is hearing you gag on him
Dream likes when you try to keep quiet but you fail miserably
He will do anything in his power to have you say his name like a prayer for hours
Overstimulation
“Morpheus- I can’t anymore”
“Just one more, my love”
He gets turn on by the slightest shit, like the clothes you wear, the way you cross your legs together or if you just brush your fingers slightly over his crotch
Morpheus likes to kiss you while taking care of you so he can take every moan, gasp and breathe in his mouth
Likes to have you cum with his fingers alone
He doesn’t do much teasing but when he does…
“I’ve barely even touched you and look how drenched you are, my love”
Prefers positions in which he can see your face clearly
Possessive asf
He likes you to acknowledge yourself as his as he acknowledges he is yours
Likes to hold you close for a few seconds after you cum
Aftercare is the most important thing for him
Would read to you while caressing your hair as a form of aftercare
Complete sucker for you wearing his clothes afterwards
He leaves small gifts behind if you fall asleep and he’s not there
“You looked so peaceful I didn’t want to disturb you, I’ll be with Lucienne if you need me”
4K notes · View notes
roguelov · 1 month
Note
Imagine sitting on Morpheus’ lap while he is sitting on his throne reading a book🤭
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It’s the best spot in all of the Dreaming 🫠
He will pull you close to his chest, slowly wrapping an arm around you as his lips brush past your ear. He will gently murmur the words in your ear which try to lull you to sleep. And when you fully relax into him he has this soft smile.
‘Sleep, my dear,’ he whispers
If you try to protest that you want to be awake and spend time with him, he will place a few kisses on your neck and side of your head.
‘We are spending time together, now rest I can feel how exhausted you are’
He will cradle you as you sleep soundly in his lap.
Now if you stay awake, you may crane your head to look at him just to admire and be in awe that he’s in your life. He will give you a sly smile already knowing what you are thinking about because he is thinking the same
‘Yes?’ He hums
‘Nothing,’ you rest your head on his shoulder. ‘Keep reading’
‘As you wish’ he says as kisses your temple
274 notes · View notes
thoughtsfromlayla · 1 month
Text
If I Dream Hard Enough
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Summary: Morpheus' daughter Elise wants you to become her mommy against every odd in the world. Will you?
Notes: ~8.1k words. Happy birthday to @givingmyhearttoyou, this is for you, you fabulous human. Also, this fic was supposed to be like 1k words long and now... well! Hope you guys like it, sorry it took so long
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, ModernAU!Dream, DaughterDad!Dream, slow burn(?), smut, P in V, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, slight angst all comfort, don't worry you guys get together in the end
Masterlist
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You knew of Morpheus several months ago when he stopped at the restaurant you worked at to pick up an order for his daughter. At that time, you didn’t officially meet him, you just thanked him as he left the door as the other two waitresses did. Then for the past few months, he has been a regular, always sitting in your section right after dinner rush. You thought it was planned out by the way the two other waitresses snickered whenever they saw him there. 
You didn’t mind. He was a great customer and always left good tips and he often brought his daughter along. And while she was still young, about 7 years old since the last time you asked her, she was often a highlight of your week. Elise often brings you a wildflower she finds, growing in her garden to bring to you. Each time you accept with a smile and Morpheus is there watching. 
The day that Morpheus came in without Elise, the restaurant was dead silent. The other two waitresses had left early and you were left to defend the shack. So, you sat down with him and had a meal with him. He asked you about your life and you asked about his. You learn that his wife and he had separated after the unfortunate death of their first child and that he works as a psychiatrist for those who have trouble sleeping. He has a pet Raven named Matthew and for Halloween last year, his daughter made him dress up as a scarecrow named Mervin. 
After that conversation, the two of you grew closer as friends instead of your previous professional relationship. The first time that you met with Morpheus outside of work was when Elise invited you to watch her theater performance. She was cast as Wendy in the year’s show Peter Pan and you couldn’t have been happier to come along.
Morpheus had picked you up at 6:30 PM on the dot later that week. You wore something nice and comfortable for the early spring winds. Your heeled boots clacked against the concrete pavement as you made your way from the front door to Morpheus’s car. He was waiting for you by the passenger door, leaning against the sleek black design that matched his outfit well. 
When he saw you approaching, he smiled and offered the door for you. 
“Thank you,” You smiled as you got into the car. It smelled nicely of leather and a hint of McDonald’s french fries, probably a small lunch for Elise before her show tonight. 
“Did you have dinner yet?” Morpheus asked after he put on his seat belt. 
“No, not yet,” You say. It was a bit too early for dinner for you. Plus, you told yourself that the show would only last an hour so, you could just make something when you got home anyway. 
“Great,” Morpheus practically beams, in his nonchalant way. He places his hand on the back of your headrest and looks at you. “Elise wanted to go out tonight after her show, you should join us.”
Heat blooms across your cheeks and ears at how close he was to you. You smell his cologne and you feel like you’re going to go dizzy. But you bravely push through it. 
“Y-yeah, that sounds lovely.” You say, turning your head to look straight ahead. He looks behind you as he backs out of the driveway of your small house. 
When the two of you arrived at the school, it was surprisingly packed. Quite a few other parents were waiting in line to get a spot for their car in the limited parking lot. And luckily, Morpheus was able to find a spot near the middle. When you opened the door, Morpheus was already waiting for you on the other side, he held his arm out and offered it to you. 
“Why, thank you very much,” You smile, going along with it. The wind blew a bit harsher as the sun’s final rays disappeared from the horizon and you subconsciously huddled closer to Morpheus for a bit of extra warmth as the two of you walked toward the school entrance. 
Morpheus removes his arm from you and you frown a bit. You recover quickly, maybe he decided against it, and that’s fine. The next moment, his long wool peacoat is draped over your shoulders. The smell of him envelopes you as the warmth seems through your clothes. The warmth of your cheeks returns and you feel like you’re blushing to the highlands
“Won’t you be cold?” You ask, your hands grabbing at the opening of the coat to keep it closer to you.
“No,” He says and hands the lady a five-dollar bill for two tickets. His arm extends out again in invitation and you take it happily. 
The tickets gave you two some good seats, not too far back and not too close to the stage where you would have to crane your neck for the whole show. Before you took your seat, you took off Morpheus’ jacket and folded it in your arms. Then a lady stops the two of you in the aisle of the auditorium, right before your seats. 
“Morpheus!” She exclaims and walks towards the two of you.
“Oh, Jesus,” Morpheus mutters under his breath and hides it with a cough. “Hello, Becky.”
“Why, I haven’t seen you in years, not since my little William’s birthday those years ago.” She goes in for a hug, all-embracing and big grins. Her hoop earrings jingle with the rest of her jewelry: a big statement necklace, and bold silver bracelets on each arm. She sported a leopard print blouse and her round hips had some brown slacks to match the spots. 
Her hair had large curls, just recently blown out as she flicked it behind her shoulders. When she finally notices you, her smile drops for a brief moment before it broadens again. 
“Morpheus!” She exclaims again, her hands with fresh manicures going up like a surprised red panda. “I can’t believe you brought a girlfriend!”
“Um, she’s not-” 
Becky interrupts him and grabs onto your shoulders. “Let me take a closer look at you, sweetheart.” 
“Uh, hi,” You say as she gleams at you, looking you up and down and nodding. This was awkward. 
“You. Are. A. Gem!” She annunciates. “You know, I was beginning to worry about how long it was going to take this guy to get into a relationship again.”
“Oh… that’s…” You drift off your words, Becky was starting to make the both of you uncomfortable.  
“Let’s find out seats,” Morpheus interrupted us and you couldn’t have been more grateful. Becky nods as well before passing the two of you to sit somewhere near the back of the auditorium. Morpheus leads you with a warm hand on the small of your back. 
Eventually, the curtains draw back and the lights dim. A tiny Elise is in a makeshift nightgown and pretends to wake up from her bed. Almost immediately she spotted you in the audience and the grin she gave you made your heart clench. You give her a small wave and she waves back before remembering she had lines to deliver. 
===
You and Morpheus wait outside the school auditorium with the other parents and friends who came by to support the elementary play. You had fallen into easy conversation while waiting for Elise to get out of her costume. 
“She looked lovely tonight,” You comment, peaking over shoulders to see if she had come out yet.
“She sure does,” Morpheus says by your side and you miss the way he looks at you. When you turn to look at him again, his direction is directed forward instead. 
“Daddy!” A squealing voice giggles as it comes barreling toward the opposite of everything she embodies. Pink and glitter clashed against midnight black and pale skin. A rare smile pulls at Morpheus’ lips at her hug. 
“Hi, starlight,” He pulls Elise up until she is hoisted on his hip and her arms are securely wrapped around his neck. “Are you hungry?”
Almost comically, her stomach rumbles and she hides her face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. The two of you laugh and you place a reassuring hand on Elise’s back. After little debate, the three of you are off to some local Italian restaurant. 
After dinner, which Morpheus kindly paid for, it was well past Elise’s bedtime but the little one was as hyper as if it was only noon. The drive back to your house consisted of her talking about rehearsal, her school days, her lunch yesterday, and a project on magnets that she has to finish by next Wednesday. 
The night ended with Morpheus walking you to your door. You stared at him, the fun you had from the night still evident on your face. You find that your cheeks are starting to hurt from how much you’ve been smiling. 
“Goodnight, Morpheus,” You say, one had already on the doorknob. 
Morpheus answers a few seconds later, almost lost in thought. “Right… goodnight,” He whispers and neither of you realize the unconscious step he takes closer to you. His face leans down and you can see the complicated colors of his eyes. 
You give him one last smile before turning the doorknob, unable to break eye contact with him. Before you could enter your house though, Elise rolls down her window from the back seat and shouts at the top of her lungs. 
“Goodnight Mommy!”
Your face snaps towards her, jaw unhinge and remains gaping open at her outburst. You turn to look at Morpheus, shock still evident on your face and you are greeted with a similar expression. His shoulders raised and stiff and if he were to open his eyes anymore, they might as well have popped out of his sockets.
“Elise!” He hollered from your doorstep. “I’m so sorry.” He quickly apologizes before briskly walking down the long driveway. 
Elise giggles from her backseat and the light heart sound fades as she rolls up her window again. Morpheus stares at her through the tinted backseat window before sighing and climbing into the driver’s seat. He gives a small awkward wave before leaving your driveway for the night. 
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Somewhere along the year that you had known the two, you had caught feelings for the tall brooding act. But, love is difficult and while you love the both of them dearly, it is not his love to accept if he didn’t want it. You wouldn’t blame Morpheus for not being ready for that type of relationship, even if his daughter were to think differently. You overthought to the brink of exhaustion, but time waits for no one. You had rent to pay and customers to serve. 
A couple of weeks after, it was dead again. Just one customer sitting in your section, their refilled drink in your hands. The cool night air blasted through the front door and your heart clenched in your chest when you saw the new customers. Elise stands behind Morpheus, hand holding onto his much larger one. 
When she sets her eyes on you, her eyes glimmer in excitement.
“Hi, Mommy!” She giggles and runs towards you, hugging you around your legs. 
From your peripheral, you see Morpheus sigh and your heart sinks. You adore this child, but at the end of the day, she’s not yours to adore. Your smile drops slightly at the realization. 
“I thought your dad told you not to call me that?” You say to her jokingly, even if, to you, it was no joking matter.
“Well, my daddy says that if I dream hard enough, you will become my mommy.” She states, matter of factly. Her hands release from your legs and prop themselves on her hips. She looks up at you with adoration fit for a king and a toothy smile full of braces. The confession takes the breath out of you and gives you a breath of relief in the next inhale. 
“Is that so?” With a smile, you quirk up an eyebrow and look past her small figure on Morpheus. Blush looks great on his skin, you think to yourself when you see the blood creep up his neck and over his cheeks. 
He avoids your gaze, instead finding fascination in his not-so-new shoes. Wow, they sure look like shoes tonight, he thinks to himself as he puckers his lips in deep thought. You smile at the sight, of a large daunting man turned into almost nothing by his daughter’s comment. 
You seat the two and go about your job for the rest of the night. When Morpheus was ready to leave you bring his check to him and he pulls you aside. 
“Do you have time this weekend?” He asks while taking out his credit card. 
“Yeah, I do actually. My friend canceled at the last minute on some plans we had, why?” You ask back. 
Before Morpheus could respond, Elise pops into your field of view. She stands on the booth, hands propping on the table almost spilling over her kid’s cup of lemonade. 
“Daddy has to go to a… um, conserferants. He’s going to teach other doctors about something he learned!” 
“Yes, that,” Morpheus confirms. “I will be gone for the weekend and will not return until late. Elise wants to know if you would be willing to babysit her?” 
You look between the two, Elise giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster - and it was working. 
“I will pay you, of course,” Morphes quickly adds when you don’t answer immediately. 
“Please, pleeeease?” Elise asks, she goes in for another hug, arms wrapping around your chest at her new given height, and looks at you again with a pout. “Please?”
“Oh, alright,” You can’t say no to her. Squeals fall out of her mouth as she jumps on the booth, the cheap springs squeaking underneath. 
“Here,” Morpheus says handing you a napkin with his home address on it and after a few more exchanges of pleasantries, the two were on their way. You were to be at Morpheus’s house on Friday at 3:00 PM. 
The rest of the week goes by fast, each day that brings you closer to seeing Elise again and taking care of her for the weekend has your heart pounding in your chest. What if you set the house on fire? What if you accidentally serve her a knife in her sandwich or something? These thoughts follow you until you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Morpheus’ house and a trembling finger presses the doorbell. 
When the door opens to tall, dark, and mysterious, it is quickly subdued with the aggressive cawing of a raven. Its black wings spread as it flies onto Morpheus’ shoulder and caws at you again. Confusion clouds your mind for a moment before you remember about the pet raven he mentioned a few months ago. 
“Matthew, right?” You smile and give a small wave to the bird. 
Morpheus sighs and nods. “Yes, but you need not worry about him. He will be coming with me.” 
“I’m Matthew!” It caws and your eyes go wide.
“He talks?” You unapologetically point at the bird as it stares at you with a turned head. 
“Ravens raised in captivity can learn to imitate human voices, yes. Though, I would not go as far as to brag about talking. More like… mocking.” 
He stands to the side and allows you inside. Morpheus’ house was, well, the best way to explain it was an organized chaos. Toys were everywhere, breakfast plates were still on the dining room table, and Matthew’s enrichment toys were in places you never thought a bird could drop things. That being said, the hallways were clean, the house smelled of fresh air, and the interior decoration was deliberately placed. 
Morpheus gives you a quick tour of his house, the first stop being the kitchen, everything has a place and everything is in place. The fridge and pantry were both stocked and you could immediately think of a few easy recipes to cook for you and Elise for the next few days. Next was the joined sun room, and you stared in awe at beautifully displayed stained glass. It shined a rainbow of colors over the entire wooden room. Ivy plants swung from the ceiling and sunlight covered floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in a coat of warmth. 
The rest of the tour was simple, Elise’s room which was an explosion of pink and ocean blue with Barbies and legos on the floor, and lastly Morpheus’ room. 
“You are permitted to stay in my room.” He says as he enters the space with you following closely behind. The entire room was based around a midnight blue color which you found comforting. It was neat, unlike a certain daughter’s, and has a lone suitcase sitting on the bed, already packed and ready to go. 
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” You’re quick to interject. The king-sized bed and soft duvet call your name, but it felt personal. And are you that personal with Morpheus yet? 
“I insist,” He says, hand on his suitcase and Matthew swoops down to stand on the box instead.
“No, really, I can sleep on the couch or-”
“I insist,” He repeats and it didn’t seem like much of a choice. 
“Fine, you’re very persuasive, you know?” You joke and you see his lips twitch into a smile for a moment. 
The squealing of rusty wheels and then the collective commotion of children stop your tour a bit short and the front door bursts open to giggles. You knew that laugh like the back of your hand, and you both went into the living room to greet Elise. 
“Daddy! You’re still here!” She exclaims and throws her backpack onto the couch, the shimmering glitter of princesses catching briefly on the sunlight from the large windows. 
Her hands reach up and does a grabbing motion to which Morpheus picks her up and props her on his hip. It doesn’t last long as she soon lands her eyes on you. 
“Mommy!” She squeals in excitement and starts squirming in her dad’s arms until he relinquishes her.
She barrels her way towards you and launches herself into you, giving you no choice but to grab and pick her up so she doesn’t slam into you. She’s soon holding on to your neck as you hold her and your smile grows bigger. 
“Elise,” Morpheus warns and at his sudden shift of tone, Elise buries her head into your neck, knowing that she got in trouble again for calling you that. The mood of the house sudden brought down and seemingly so did the temperature. 
You hold onto her tighter as Morpheus’ frown deepens. “Elise,” He calls out again, this time his arms folded over each other. “We’ve talked about this.”
“La, la, la, I can’t hear you,” She murmurs into your neck, holding on tighter to you. 
Morpheus sighs and comes closer, placing a hand over her back, and starts rubbing smooth circles. Wetness soon coats your skin as you realize that Elise has started crying. Her trembling shoulders and hiccups were soon to follow and you and Morpheus shared a concerned look. 
“I want a mommy,” She chokes into your shirt. “She’s my mommy…” 
Morpheus and you share a look again. His face was apologetic and worried at his daughter’s sudden confession. Children have no filter and what they say is what they mean. How can you leave her like this when she so clearly expresses what she wants?
“Okay, Elise,” You soothe as you pet her hair. “Let’s say goodbye to Daddy first and then we can grab a snack.” 
Elise peaks out from the little hidey-hole of your neck and gives a small wave to her dad which he reciprocates. Morpheus leans in close to the point where you can smell his subtle cologne and aftershave and he gives a quick peck to Elise’s hairline. 
“Be good, Elise. I’ll be back in a few days.” He says and brushes her hair away from her face to reveal red eyes and a runny nose. 
“Bye Daddy,” She says back but doesn’t find the courage to meet his eyes. 
He sighs again before going into his room to grab his suitcase. You follow him to the door, Elise still latched onto you, but now her breaths have evened out. 
Morpheus looks back when he’s just outside the door, storm clouds are rolling in and you can smell the petrichor in the late spring winds. He gives you another look of concern to which you simply nod in understanding. Matthew caws impatiently as large drops of rain start to make their descent. 
“We’ll be fine,” You say as an unconscious hand wraps around Elise again.
Silence is shared between you two, an understanding that there is going to be a heavy topic to talk about when he returns. Until then, Morpheus comes closer and wraps his long arms around the both of you and you stand there stiff. You feel the warmth of his lips press to your cheek before he pulls away. 
He doesn’t explain and instead turns away quickly to get into his car, leaving behind the shocked look on your face. The two of you stand at the entrance as you watch him pull out of his driveway. Elise waves a small hand goodbye as he disappears down the street in fog and rain. 
When Elise sees the last glimpse of her father’s car leaving the horizon she slides off of you and walks to the kitchen. She sits patiently at the kitchen table when you find her again. 
“Can I have a snack?” She asks and swings her legs back and forth. 
The sudden change in her emotions gives you a bit of a whiplash but did as she asks and made her a small snack. After which you clean up the kitchen a bit while she munches away. When she was done, she asks for some help on her weekend homework which you didn’t help much, just guided her back to the paper when her thoughts started to wander. After homework was a simple dinner of chicken parmesan and then you sent Elise off to shower. 
The rain still hadn’t let up and continues to pelt down in harsh drops against the roof. The longer it goes on the more you grow anxious. You never did well in thunderstorms, rainstorms were fine, but as soon as you heard that boom of thunder, you were nothing but a child again, hiding underneath your bed. The monsters under the bed were less scary than the bright flash of light across the sky. 
When Elise comes back out to the common areas after her shower, freshly scented with bubblegum body wash, she finds you in the sunroom. The once cozy space grew cold when the weather changed. You huddled yourself against the corner and stare out the window, absentmindedly looking at the wildflowers that grew in their backyard. Thoughts cloud your mind just like the weather outside, and just like the rain slamming against the glass, you were beating yourself over.
Morpheus seems adamant about not letting Elise call you her mother, so that means he must not want you to be her mother. Your feelings for him had bloomed into something more over the months that you had known him. You subconsciously began chewing on your nails, some odd habit that you still haven’t broken since your high school years. 
Maybe, it would be best for you to stop being friends with Morpheus. You could never ask him to make that kind of decision and instead make that decision for him. It would be easier for both of you, you told yourself - lied to yourself if you wanted to be honest. 
The tugging motion on your shirt pulls you out of your thoughts. Elise stares at you, hair still wet from her shower, and now cozy in her pajamas. 
“What are you thinking about?” She asks you and climbs into your lap. 
Your hand goes to her back to support her as she makes herself at home. 
“Adult things,” You reply vaguely, hoping that she takes the answer. She doesn’t, because of cause she doesn’t. Elise is too bright for her age.
“Is it about how daddy doesn’t like it when I call you mommy?” She questions.
A sharp inhale comes into your lungs as you stare at her. After a few silent seconds, you respond simply. “Yeah.”
A few more seconds go by.
“Do you… want to be my mommy?” She asks again.
“...Yeah, but I don’t think your dad would allow it.” You confess to her. Guilt clouds you, someone as small as her shouldn’t be in the middle of all of this. 
“I want you to be my mommy, too.” She yawns this time and her eyes begin to droop. She leans her head against your chest and her breath starts to slow. 
“I know,” You whisper and when you look at her again, her eyes are closed. You kiss her on her forehead and pet her hair. A sigh leaves you again, decisions, decisions. 
Picking up Elise carefully to not wake her, you make your way to her room and set her carefully in her bed. You tuck her in, extra tight, and turn to leave her room. 
“Mommy,” She calls out groggily.
“Yes?” You say as you turn your attention back to her, kneeling so that you are on the same level as her. 
“I think,” She yawns again. “I think daddy thinks he doesn’t deserve to have a mommy… after what happened to my brother. I think he thinks he did something bad, so he can’t have something good again.” 
Yeah, she’s too bright for her age. 
“Let’s not think about it anymore tonight,” You conclude the conversation with another forehead kiss and she falls back asleep. With one last look at her sleeping form, you leave the room, leaving the door slightly cracked, just in case. 
Your shower was just how you liked it, but your thoughts come back to haunt you in the quiet house. The thoughts follow you, nagging you, as you unpacked your clothes and stacked them on top of Morpheus’s drawer. It still hasn’t left you alone when you changed into your sleepwear and did your face routine. 
You stare at the large empty bed and sigh. It was still relatively early, only 10:00 PM, yet your bones were tired and even though Morpheus said you could use his bed, it still felt wrong. The couch was just fine, but who were you kidding? You climb into the bed and pull the blanket up to your chin. 
The bed smelled like him, the pillows smelled like him, and everything reminded you of him. Perhaps this was a mistake. Oh, but the bed was so comfortable and the rhythmic splattering of the rain lulls you to sleep before you even knew it. 
You wake up to a phone call, and the blinding light makes you squint at the notification. Morpheus was calling and your heart rate skyrockets. You answer and put the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?” You greet and even you can hear the grogginess of your voice. It made you cringe for some reason. 
“How are my girls?” He responds.
Morpheus’ voice is something else and it makes you giddy. It certainly made you feel like a teenage girl again, wanting to kick your feet and scream while running around the house. His voice was somehow better over the phone. Tired, low, and seductive almost - you could fall back asleep to it. 
“We’re doing good,” You start. “Elise has been asleep, homework’s done and all that.” You update him. “How’s your conference?”
“It’s tomorrow, so I can’t say yet.”
“Mhmm,” You reply and you feel sleep tugging at your eyes again. 
Morpheus keeps talking about his day, something about giving Matthew to another friend to look after and the drive to the next few towns over. The words go through your ears on one side and out the other as his voice lulls you to sleep. 
“Are you asleep?” You hear him say from far away. You don’t have the energy to respond. A few seconds later, on the verge of consciousness, you hear his voice again. 
“Goodnight, my dove.”
The three-tone dial is the last thing you hear before you finally release the last of your waking hours. 
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The next day, the rain still hadn’t let up and you ended up driving your car into the garage so as to not have any damage done to it. Elise was bummed out as she was supposed to go to the local park with her friends from school, but for obvious reasons, it was canceled. The two of you ended up making a pillow fort in the living room and watching Barbie movies for the rest of the day. It was low maintenance and cozy and everything you’ve ever wanted, not that it would have been much different if you were home by yourself instead. 
Elise hadn’t brought up the conversation you two had last night and you were grateful for it. The insights that the kid’s little brain could understand were astounding to you. She spends the day glued to your side while singing along to the movie’s songs and eventually falls asleep mid-movie with a cold popcorn bowl in her lap. 
You carry her back into her bed just like the night before. This time watching her sleeping form for a little while longer. After which you went back to the living room to clean up. There was a tough teriyaki sauce stain that was stained onto one of the blankets in the pillow fort that you ended up just throwing into the laundry instead of trying to spot clean. While the laundry runs, you put away leftovers and cleaned up the dishes. 
After the chores are done, you find yourself in the sunroom again, finding it ironic that the two times you have used it were when the sun was away. You run your hands across the spines of the many books that Morpheus kept. Many of them were scientific journals on the mind as you would expect regarding his job. A few were fairytales for Elise and a few seemed to be picked up from local libraries or garage sales. 
You select one from random, a short novel about a princess who sets out on a quest against the Greek gods to find her missing brother. An easy enough read for tonight, you think to yourself. You find annotations from handwriting that you didn’t recognize as Elise’s or Morpheus’ and come to the conclusion that it must’ve been his ex-wife’s. A bittersweet conclusion that he kept her books all this time.
Her handwriting was beautiful and so were her thoughts. They were eye-opening, sweet, and romantic, and through her annotations, you come to love her as well. If it were a different world, you would’ve loved being her friend. 
You are on the last few chapters of the book when your eyes became droopy. You set down the book, hoping to pick it up again tomorrow morning, and head to take your shower. The warmth of the shower only solidifies your tiredness and was a great way to relax your muscles before you grudgingly climb into bed, hair still damp as it hit the pillow. 
Everything about you was tired, but that damn rainstorm just had to test its luck and turn into a thunderstorm. You lay on your side, paralyzed, pulling the blanket as high as it can over your chin without suffocating you and squeeze your eyes tight. You imagine the blanket was the arms of your deceased mother hugging you again. You think of summertime by the lakeside, flowers blooming and butterflies flying. Your father is fishing on his small boat and is trying to catch something fresh for dinner. You think of your mother in the lakeside cabin making freshly baked bread and your breathing slows. You could relive this moment every day if it only allowed you. 
You’re playing with the weeds that grow by the stairs of the cabin porch, ripping at them and releasing the earthy scent, throwing them off into the lawn when you were successful. Your palms had several thin cuts from stubborn weeds that didn’t want to be uprooted. 
The smell of rain is heavy in the air as the temperature cools drastically and storm clouds roll in. Your father tries one more time to catch something and lightning cracks amongst the horizon. The wind picks up and creates aggressive currents along the lake, rocking his boat back and forth. You hear your mother shouting at you to get inside the house as cold, fat drops of rain pierce your skin. But your eyes don’t leave your father’s boat and soon your mother joins you on the porch, hand shielding her eyes to look out. 
Lightning strikes the lake, blinding you, your mother screams and thunder booms and hearing is lost. One moment your father is on the lake and the next he isn’t. The boat is on its side before the water fills it and drowns it, too. 
Your mother moves past you in a blur and you follow quickly. The rainwater mixes with your tears, hot and cold, running down your cheeks. You scream for your father, choking as the water comes into your airway instead. Is this what your father felt as he drowned? All you saw was your mother, in her perfect summer dress that stuck to her figure double over on the dock as she screamed, the rain drowning away all of her grief. 
A terrifying boom jolts you awake into a sitting position, your heart pumping at a mile a minute. You feel sweat coat along your browline as you lay back down, the back of your hand over your forehead. You hadn’t had that dream, or more accurately, that memory in a long time. You find the courage to get up and head to the connected bathroom to splash your face with some cold water in hopes of calming yourself down. 
You are so consumed by your own thoughts, that you don’t see the tall figure standing in the middle of the bedroom. A scream crawls up your throat before another lightning bolt lights up the room, making you jump as the thunder follows. You could recognize the disheveled hair anywhere. His confused face relaxes as he realizes that you are still here. 
You swallow some air, pushing your own feelings aside for a moment. “What are you doing back so early?”
“We were sent home early in regards to the storm. It would have been too dangerous to travel the next day,” Morpheus explains. On cue, another crack of lightning follows his words. 
“Well, welcome home,” You say, hospitality gone from your system at the late hour. You grab a pillow from the bed and head out the door. 
“Where are you escaping to?” He asks.
You quirk an eyebrow, not entirely understanding the question. “The couch?” You answer with a question as if it should be obvious. He’s home so he should be using his bed. 
You think you see his jaw tick at your answer but you’re not sure due to the dark. Another strike of lightning had you stiffen and you walk out of the room without another word. You managed to lay back down with a throw blanket that was in a basket near the couch and cuddle with yourself as much as you could. The blanket didn’t provide as much warmth or heaviness as the comforter did. 
You toss and turn back and forth but no matter how you position yourself, tiredness nor comfort found you. The thunderstorm had gotten worse and after much debate with yourself, you give in with a huff. You grab the pillow and hug it to your stomach as you stand and make your way to Morpheus’ room. 
You give a quiet knock and open the door, feeling almost childish at how you are going about this. You should have gotten over your fear a long time ago and yet here you were, standing vulnerable in your pajamas, staring at Morpheus as he sits up in his bed.
Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. They’re lodged in your throat at what they’re about to say. Before you can find the courage to do so, Morpheus speaks for you.
“Are you afraid of the thunder?” He asks. 
You nod your head yes, and the grip on the pillow increases. 
“Do you want to spend the night with me?”
You nod again. 
He lifts the blanket on his side that you took the pillow from and you slip in. Warmth envelopes you immediately and you let go of a restrained breath. You turn to him and whisper your thanks as you face each other, your body deflating as stress leaves it. Silence fills the air and awkwardness follows after. Sleep is on the back of your mind and it tugs hard for rest. Your fear gets the better of you and you’re left lying awake, looking at Morpheus’ sleeping forming. His breath is rhythmic and his face is peaceful. A deafening boom of thunder jolts you and a small shriek leaves your lips. Unconsciously you snuggle closer to Morpheus and his eyes snap open. 
He feels you shaking and wraps a protective arm around your figure, one hand snaking under your neck to wrap itself around your head. He brings you closer to him as if shielding you from the raging thunderstorm outside. 
“Shhh,” He hushes as the rain pelts against the windows. “I am here.”
Your fingers are clutched to his shirt, knuckles white when he speaks to you. At another crack of lightning, you pull yourself closer to him, bracing yourself for the boom of thunder that follows. His hands cover your ears and you feel the sting of tears threatening to fall. The rain continues and after a few long minutes of only rain, you relax again. You lay in the comforts of his arms as you realize the thunder had stopped. Sleep pulls at your eyelids again and with a hiccuped breath you close your eyes. 
Morpheus’ cheat rises as he inhales before he speaks. 
“I am consumed by thoughts of you,” he confesses in the dark light of the night. Lighting cracks far away and you almost miss the confession. Is he trying to distract you? The thunder that follows isn’t as loud as your beating heart. 
He lays still with you over his chest and you hear the way his heartbeat accelerates. When the words finally, finally, register in your head you perk up and look at him. 
He opens his eyes and tears form along the bottom. “I cannot deny it anymore. Everything of me is filled with you. Your laughter, your scent, your voice. It has filled the crevices of my heart and healed the wounds of the past.”
You whisper his name, nothing else comes to mind for his confession. You sit up now and he follows after with his legs on either side of you. You cannot bear to look him in the eyes, his love for you is too strong to face head-on in the middle of the night. His fingers run across your back and you can’t deny the goosebumps that follow after. 
You feel his lips, just as warm as the first time, on your shoulders and he leans into you. He peppers kisses up your shoulder to your neck and you lean your head away to give him room. His arms snake around your waist again to hold you still, feeling the leftover tremors from the passing storm. 
“Tell me to stop and I will stop,” He promises in a whisper in your ear. 
His voice, oh so heavenly, has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “No, don’t stop,” You assure breathlessly. His hands slip under the thin fabric of your shirt and move upward, fingers featherlight and ticklish. Heat shoot straight to your cunt at his administration and your nipples perk as he runs a cold finger over them. His other hand travels lower and brushes against the rim of your shorts. 
He stops, only to continue when you whine in rebuttal and grind your ass into his front, feeling the heat and hardness of his arousal. Your heat clashes with his cold fingers as he runs them along the length of your slit. A moan escapes you at the feeling, it’s been too long since you last had a good sexual experience and your fingers are just not the same. 
His fingers part your lower lips and another runs circles around your clit. You clench around nothing, head thrown back and leaning against his shoulder as he continues. He’s stopped kissing you now, just watching your expressions trying to figure out what you enjoyed most. 
You needed more, something, anything. Before you could ask for it, he sinks a long finger in and your mouth falls lack. His hand comes to cover your mouth, muffling the wanton moans that fall out shamelessly.
“Shhh,” He hushes against your ear, sending shivers through your body again. You feel his teeth nibble at the shell of your ear, something so simple, and yet it felt so perfect. 
You feel his lips tug into a smile as your cunt clenches around his finger, to which he adds another, moving them in and out, in and out. His pace was calm, and collected, but you’re greedy. You want to bargain with him, another finger? His mouth on your cunt? How about a little bit of everything?
“Do you want more?” He asks, his voice low in timbre like the faraway thunder that rumbles. 
You nod, a small squeal leaving your lips as his fingers push up into your G-spot. You hear him groan behind you when your tongue darts out to lick his fingers that cover your mouth. He nips at the junction of your neck before he backs away. 
“Turn around for me, dove,” He directs you with a hand. 
You find yourself on your knees and you want to place your head back down on the pillows but Morpheus stops you.
“No.” He holds you up, his body flushed against your back. “Like this,” He pulls you up and holds your hand on the headboard, his fingers intertwining with yours as he keeps you there. 
His lips follow your spine, kissing down, inch by inch. His hands leave you and go to pull down your pajama pants, leaving the heat of your core bare to the cold late-night air. Your back arches as his fingers find themselves into your cunt again and you feel the wetness of your pleasure dripping down the back of your thighs. The rapture feeling makes your head dip down, but you don’t dare to let go of the headboard as Morpheus had instructed. 
Morpheus’ hand comes around your mouth again when your moans grow louder, your eyes roll to the back of your head as his fingers grow slicker and faster. You find yourself at the brink of your orgasm, cunt spasming as you clench on his fingers and your fingers gripping hard on the headboard, knuckles white, and head thrown back. Morpheus’ hand leaves your lips and gently wraps themselves across your throat, gently restricting the air that you want to breathe. White and blinding lights flash across the back of your eyelids as the searing pleasure of your orgasm shakes through your core. His fingers slow down as he helps you ride through your orgasm, leaving you panting and spent. 
You feel his lips against your ears again, whispering sweet nothings to bring you back down to earth. Your teeth are still buzzing from the orgasm when you feel something hot and hard press against your entrance. He presses forward and you feel the pressure of it, but he doesn’t enter, not yet. You’re shaking your head no, mumbling for recovery from your previous orgasm. 
“I can’t, not yet. I can’t,” You plea between pants. 
“Yes, you can, darling. I know you can,” Morpheus says. He runs the pad of his finger down your spine, making your ass perk up higher into the air from the sensation of it. “Yes. Just like that,” His praise continues. 
He sinks into you and the stretch is foreign. He’s girthy, bigger than you have taken before, but it’s not too uncomfortable. He has you panting without him even starting to move. He stays still as you squeeze your cunt around him and you’re further spurred on by his groans. Morpheus silences himself by pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, fingers intertwining with yours again on the headboard. His brows furrowed in concentration to give you time to adjust to him, but it’s hard, especially when you keep sucking him in like that. 
Morpheus only starts to move when you push back against him, taking him in another inch. 
“Fuck,” You hear him murmur in between your shoulder blades. One simple word and he has you palpable and jelly-like in his hands. 
Morpheus starts his thrusts slow, but much like how he loves, they soon become more - harder, better. Your moans go from soft to loud to muffled until he’s inserting himself over and over with such force that you’re left soundless. His power of his thrusts makes your shirt rise up until it just barely covers your breasts and the spaghetti straps fall from your shoulders. He snakes one of his hands down the sweat-dewed skin of your stomach and makes contact with your enlarged clit. 
He moans into your ear, unembarrassed when your cunt clenches harder around him when the finger pushes onto your clit. He starts to move the finger in slow circles around the nerves and your thighs start to shake. The rest of your body grows taught as his finger and cock slowly brings you to your second orgasm. 
Your mouth remains open, whines and whimpers falling out, Morpheus had long given up on keeping you quiet and only the brief remembrance that Elise was just down the hall make you bite your lips to silence yourself. Your orgasm was there again, just a little bit more and you’ll feel euphoria again. But no matter how much Morpheus keeps thrusting into you, you don’t get any closer. 
“Come for me,” He growls into your ear. 
“I can’t!” You whine out. You’re trying! Can’t he see that? You want it just as bad. 
“Yes, you can,” He huffs. His sucks a hickie on the peak of your shoulder blade and presses harder onto your clit. 
“Now,” He commands and you do. 
The snap was instantaneous and you taste blood on your tongue as your lip breaks open from the force of your bite. You feel each pulse of your orgasm rippling through you and then the sudden loss of Morpheus within you. You push your ass back into him, hoping to take him back into you. His cock instead rests between your ass checks when you feel the hot splurge of his cum splatter onto your back and the sound of your shared pants. 
You’re not entirely sure how long the high of your orgasm lasts but you come back to you laying on Morpheus’ chest except this time completely naked. 
“Did that really just happen?” You ask as sleep tugs on your eyes for the third time that night. The thunderstorm was long gone, and soft rain concludes the weekend long storm. 
A soft chuckle leaves Morpheus’ lips and it shakes your head. “Yes.” 
“What does this mean for us? For Elise?”
It takes a moment for Morpheus to answer and you think you fell back asleep. 
“It means that we can be a family, shall you want it,” Morpheus says. 
“That sounds perfect,” You smile and you know Morpheus could feel it on his chest when you do because when he speaks next, the happiness in his voice is genuine. 
“Then how about a date tomorrow, my love?”
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Ngl, this was so fun to write you guys. Thank you to [redacted] on hmmm, "helping" me with the smut inspiration. If only you knew this blog existed.
Working on a couple more fics! 26 Ways of Taking You is basically going to be my own version of the NSFW Alphabet so they'll be short, porn no plot fics with our lovely Endless.
Don't be shy! Request a prompt or ask a question :D
Have a lovely day
♡ Yours, Layla
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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 2 months
Text
How to Unintentionally, Get An Endless To Marry You EXCERPT!
An excerpt from one of the 1-shots I am working on:
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“Please be my husband.” You stated boldly. For a few moments silence stretched between you, and finding it uncomfortable, you spoke again. “I need you to be my husband. My mother won’t stop harassing me about getting married and I really need her off my back. She’s making me visit for the weekend and I can’t show up without…” You trailed off.
“A husband.” Morpheus finished for you, unblinking to your demand. It was a rather, simple, demand for the great debt he owed. Nonetheless he would do so to his best ability. “Very well, I shall be your husband.” The relief on your face caught the endless off guard as the stress seemed to slip free from your facial features and you physically relaxed.
“Oh thank you, thank you,” You breathed out. “You have no idea what she is like and I just need her off my back about this. She keeps trying to set me up with these mediocre guys I’ve never met before. She doesn’t understand that I don’t want or need her help in that… department…” While you trailed off, Lucienne came striding into the throne room.
“My lord, your presence is requested—” She paused mid sentence at the sight of you standing so intimately close to Morpheus. “I was not aware you had an audience, shall I return?”
“No,” Morpheus replied, his eyes not once straying from yours. “We have finished our business.” You tilted your head to the side, wondering what would happen now.
“So should I leave?” You asked, looking around in confusion. Wherever you were, was positively beautiful! But you had no idea how you had ended up there in the first place.
“That will not be necessary,” He reassured you, “I am sure you are curious about this place. It is only right that you are shown our realm.” You blinked off his word choice, thinking that he was referring to him and the lady. “Matthew, will you please introduce Y/N to the realm?
A raven popped up from behind Morpheus’ shoulder and cocked its head at you.
“Sure! Hi! I’m Matthew and Morpheus’ raven!” The bird chittered, much to your surprise. Then again, this was a dream! Dream of the Endless. You should probably try to figure out more about him.
“Uh, sounds good, lead the way,” Following the talking raven, you headed out of the throne room while Morpheus and Lucienne had a stare down you were not privy to. The moment you were out of earshot Lucienne’s eyebrow went up.
“May I ask who that was, sir?”
“My wife,” Morpheus answered simply.
“Your wife,” Lucienne repeated slowly, making sure she had heard correctly. “And when did this happen.”
“Three minutes ago.” Three minutes ago?? Lucienne was going to need to hear how exactly this came to be. Immediately.
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writethrough · 24 days
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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!
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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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162 notes · View notes
7-wonders · 4 months
Note
whenever the fates called morpheus love or dear it just gives me this image of morpheus coming to meet reader at their volunteer job at an old peoples home and all the elderly ladies giggling and calling him such a handsome man and why if they were a few decades younger they'd have him for themselves you're standing in the background not knowing how to reply to any of that
(This was like pulling teeth. When will my ability to write return from war?)
There are many little quirks when it comes to being in a relationship with a primordial, all-powerful being such as Dream of the Endless. One such instance is that time does not run the same for an Endless as it does for a human. Morpheus can lose minutes, hours, days to his duties between one blink and the next.
The Dreaming, that fantastical kingdom that your lover rules over, runs on the same logic. You can spend what feels like an hour in the Dreaming, only for it to be an entire day later in the Waking. Likewise, weeks in the Dreaming can be merely an hour in the Waking. It's disconcerting to creatures that have lived far longer than you.
All of this is to say that your meetings often don't have a specific date or time when they're in the Waking, simply because Morpheus doesn't know. He tries, though it's difficult: clocks do not work in the Dreaming, and Matthew is too important a raven to be constantly flying to the Waking to check the time so that Morpheus can "run off" (Matthew's words) with you. You've actually started to look forward to the spontaneity—it helps that he usually gets lucky and catches you when you're home or alone and don't have to worry about explaining how he just randomly appeared out of thin air.
Though it's rare, him coming to the Waking to see you and you being in public has happened before. This time, he shows up when you're just finishing up at the retirement home you volunteer at a couple times a month—you're in charge of what's supposed to be a crossword puzzles group, but what is mainly just a gossip group.
Most mortals aren't able to see Morpheus when he doesn't want to be seen. You're not most mortals, however, and you've gotten pretty damn good at sensing when he's around, which is why you're the only one that notices him lurking in the corner closest to the door.
"Hi," you mouth, trying and failing to hide your grin as you give him a discreet wave.
Your excitement must be palpable, because the women quickly pick up on it and thus catch sight of a tall, dark, and handsome stranger across the room. Ethel, the boldest of the group by far, grabs your arm and yanks you down to her level. "Is that the boyfriend?"
"Yes, that's the boyfriend."
They all know about the boyfriend because you've gushed about your beloved to this little group more than a few times. How can you not, though? Especially when you're surrounded by those who enjoy living vicariously through you and thus cajole you into sharing such stories about your love life.
"She thought he was fake, y'know," Ida informs you.
"Did not!" Ethel retorts. "I was just curious because you never showed us any pictures!"
"I've told you before that Morpheus is a little camera-shy." You don't actually know if that's the case or not; you just haven't yet figured out how to ask the anthropomorphic personification of dreams and nightmares if he wants to take a cute couple's selfie.
"Morpheus! Oh, how exotic." The little group titters, thrilled at having learned his name.
The man (-shaped being) of the hour has moved, placing a hand on your lower back so as to not frighten you when he suddenly stands next to you. You smile up at him and are greeted with the smallest of smiles in return while the sounds of your seniors oohing and aahing fade into mere background noise. Surroundings tend to become meaningless when you see Morpheus; all that matters then is you and he.
Morpheus is the one to remind you that you have an audience when he turns his attention upon said audience. He bows his head politely and says, "I greet you, ladies."
As you expected, they go absolutely nuts when they hear his voice.
"Oh my!" Ida blushes.
Ethel beams. "Aren't you a handsome one!"
"Why, if I were a few decades younger..." Shirley, who has absolutely no filter whatsoever, winks at Morpheus.
You sputter, your eyes wide and blood rushing to your cheeks. "Shirley!"
"What? I have eyes!"
While you're ready to hide your face in your hands and die (maybe you should see if Death has a cell phone), Morpheus simply hums in amusement. "You are very kind."
"And you are a sweetheart."
"Okay, that does it for me today," you interrupt. It's not a lie; you were literally saying your goodbyes and on your way out before Morpheus arrived! "I'll see you guys in a couple of weeks."
"You bring Morpheus around any time, alright?"
You can't get out of there fast enough, and Morpheus lets you practically drag him towards the parking lot. Once you're out in the fresh air (and away from any of the windows that your favorite gals could be spying from), you bury your head in Morpheus's shoulder and groan.
"I'm sorry. That was so embarrassing," you lament.
"Why? They were...sweet, if not a little overt in their affections."
You lift your head up to meet his eyes. "That's why it was embarrassing, my love."
"You are very clearly dear to them. They simply want to see you happy."
"I'm assuming you know that with your super special dream magic?"
"Daydreams and hopes are quite loud, starlight." He smirks because you know damn well just how loud some daydreams can be (specifically yours when you're thinking about Morpheus) before pressing his lips to your forehead.
"Well, you're certainly in their good graces now. They've been so nosy since they found out I'm seeing someone."
"So I lived up to their expectations, then?"
Now it's your turn to smirk. "Baby, you were beyond their wildest dreams."
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withoutyouimsaskia · 2 months
Text
Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 2)
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4
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​GIF: Originally posted by @harleytudinous
Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader
Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)
Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dream manipulation. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Plot related cigarette use. Dubious consent.
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: So I know I initially billed this as a two shot but the story has run away with me in the most lovely way. Part 3 will be coming soon. Thank you for all your kind responses to part 1, it honestly means so much to me. Hope you enjoy this one too. All my love, Saskia xx
Sandman Masterlist
---------------------------------------------
The veil of sleep comes down upon your weary body with a feather-light touch, trying to coax your mind back into the world of dreams.
Dreamscapes have been a whole new experience for you in the past month of your life. Before, you would wake with no recollection of what had played out. Not even the slightest inkling. Now, you remember everything.
They are staggering; bursting with details and ideas beyond your most outlandish daytime imaginings. The emotions that are conjured by them, both when asleep and also awake are just as bold.
And even though it's been 23 nights since it started you are still finding them predominantly jarring and disorientating. You are baffled by how other people cope with the sheer vividness. The unpredictability. Maybe they have become desensitised. You can only hope that the same will happen for you in time.
One thing you tell yourself with each sunrise:
Thank goodness they weren't nightmares.
At least, you don't think they are. There's no resemblance between yours and what you have heard others describe over the years, nor to those outlined in a dream decoding book you had checked out of the library last week. There's no obvious threat or fear. No re-living of traumatic events. Just weird subtext.
The first dream found you standing barefoot on a beach. A mirage distorted the particulars of the scene making it impossible to see further than half a meter in front of you. The temperature of the sand under your soles was verging on painful and as such, it forced you to walk into the unknown before you.
A groaning wind started to brew and lifted the sand into sparkling flurries. You shielded your eyes from the abrasive particles.
The sun was at its apex when you heard the ear splitting bangs. Unmistakably gun shots; you didn't last much longer in the dream and woke with a start.
For the next week, your dreams had been like a series of video clips edited into a supercut.
Raven wings. Black cats. Hellfire. Ruby red glow. Sprawling library shelves. Landscapes hewn by earthquake fissures. Hotel corridors. A handsome, blond haired man wearing sunglasses, holding a blood covered knife.
If you didn't know any better, you would begin to suspect that your new box of tea bags had been laced with a psychedelic. Alas, no. Your hypothesis was unequivocally disproved when you friends had been completely unaffected after stopping by for a Sunday afternoon catch up.
This quick fire of snapshots eventually stopped, transforming into lucid long form dreams. You often think back to the first one where it happened.
Standing in the the empty room, and the appearance of the figure dressed in black. The colour that had flashed in their midnight eyes had the quality of liquid silver. Sometimes you wonder if you see the same image in other dreams, standing in amongst a crowd.
From that point on, regardless of what dream you are in, you cannot shake the intuitive prickle down your spine that tells you someone is watching you.
You reason that it is nothing to be concerned about. Humans dream, and you cannot deny that some of them - swimming in a sea of clouds, re-visiting childhood haunts, trying out superpowers - have been quite fun.
You roll over on to your left side and close your eyes.
You dream.
The room you see is expansive in breadth and depth. Impressive windows bring brilliant light into the space which bounces off the ivory stone of the floors and walls. There are statues positioned at equidistant intervals, implying that the chamber is a gallery of sorts.
One effigy, fashioned from bronze, and rich in colour draws your attention. The lines and curves of its form intrigue you, despite not knowing the creature it was portraying.
You are about to move on when the feeling of being watched sparks through your skeleton.
Everything changes.
Clarity gives way to haze. Sun is swapped for moon.
You see a man across the room. He stands with a perfect posture. Graceful, powerful. His elbows are bent, fingers interlaced, palms facing upwards. Sheer black fabric floats around his frame. It moves languidly, giving glimpses of his bare body beneath.
The man's face is imperceptible. The distance between you too great but somehow you know you are the focus of his attention.
His robes fall to the floor with a gossamer sigh. The pale, unmarked skin of his slight form glows beautifully in the moonlight. You look down in embarrassment as arousal flushes through you, and you see that you are suddenly as naked as he is.
You gasp, and snap your gaze back up.
The sight you see is rather unexpected. The man is intimately touching himself.
You feel compelled to mirror him. You immediately reach between your legs. The man groans as you make contact.
All it takes is a little bit of attention on your clit before you are ready to slide two fingers into your core. The noise you make at the feeling of the stretch is salacious. The man echoes you with a sound that is just as dirty.
It spurs you on and you burrow deeper.
You curl your fingers until your legs are weak and quivering. You long to sink to your knees so you can finish in a more comfortable position yet you can't. An invisible force is preventing you.
It keeps you on display.
Just like the statues to your left.
You wonder if it is for the man's benefit.
You try to focus on him but it is impossible to do so through the trembling glaze over your eyes. All you are able to sense from him now is the sound of the rhythmic pump of his palm around his cock and his panting breaths.
Desperate whines escape your lips. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm but you can't seem to lose your balance and fall into the abyss. The unsteadiness in your legs is too much of a distraction. You rub at your clit again in the hope that it will bring the satisfaction you need.
It does nothing.
You are so frustrated by your body's disobedience that it is almost painful.
"Please. Please. Please," you mutter under your breath.
A voice suddenly speaks next to you ear. A velvet voice with the timbre of a thunder rumble. It pours like a soothing syrup into your brain and commands you to do exactly as it bids.
"Let go."
You climax intensely, crying out in relief, squirting all over your fingers and onto your hand as you legs finally give way.
The fall jolts you back into consciousness and you wake with a barely contained scream of pleasure in your throat and adrenaline lighting up your nervous system.
Daylight is peeking through a little gap in the curtains. You take a deep, grounding breath.
That was obscene.
The context, the actions, the sounds. That sultry voice at the end. From the throbbing in your vulva and the twitching of your legs it seems like you didn't just finish in the dream.
There is really no point in looking it up in the dream decoding book.
You were clearly horny on a subconscious level. Or craving attention, hence the exhibitionist behaviour. The latter is not usually in your nature to seek out but if it is the reason, you might not have to wait long before the desire is fulfilled. There is a work event happening this evening that may require you to accept an award and address the crowd.
You love this time of year where community projects get recognition; a nomination alone is a sure-fire way of garnering publicity which in turn helps the charity's outreach.
But first, a normal day at the office. You throw back the covers and go straight to the bathroom to rinse off the evidence of your wet dream.
---------------------------------------------
Your right hand connects with the metal push plate of the function space's front door. The heels of your boots click and clack as you cross the threshold, moving from floor board to paving slab.
It's fortuitous that you brought a long, thick coat with you this evening for the wind is wintery and unforgiving. You stay close to the wall of the building to try and shelter from it as much as possible.
The pavements are slick with recent precipitation, streetlamps bouncing off of the water with caustic white light.
Then you see him; a figure cut from shadow.
He's breathing in such a laboured way that you wonder if he is sick.
Your phone is still inside the venue, currently being guarded by a colleague along with your bag but it wouldn't take long to retrieve it and call for medical assistance.
"You okay?" Concern colours the simple question.
His reply comes quickly and assertively, "I am well, thank you."
You nod, not entirely convinced for the stranger's response was as stiff as his posture, and reach inside the pocket of your coat for the box of cigarettes and lighter stashed within.
You settle one of the sticks between your lips and use your thumb to bring forth a flame. The crackle of smouldering paper and tobacco perforates the damp air and you take a needy drag. The nicotine taints and tantalises in equal measure, filling you with guilt and relief. You've been trying to give up but the little voice inside your head had won this evening. You close your eyes and focus on the pleasure it brings before flicking some ash into the tray mounted to the wall.
Your attention now back on your surroundings, the stranger steps into the scope of the streetlight. The angles of his cheekbones, jaw and nose are accentuated to an incredible extent in the gleam. His dark hair is being buffeted about the wind, locks of it very close to falling in the blue eyes that are unwaveringly trained on you. He begins to talk again, showcasing his deep baritone.
"I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you just now. It is not how I envisaged our first interaction transpiring. I hope that you can forgive me for my deception."
You laugh nervously and take another quick drag. "It makes no difference if you're honest with me or not. I don't know you."
"You are correct. You don't know me. Not yet -"
"Oh," you cut in quickly. "I'm not looking for a hook up."
While you cannot deny that he is arrestingly beautiful, you are technically working and have never been one for one-night stands.
"You mistake my meaning. I have been searching for you for so long. I oftentimes doubted your existence however I was wrong and I find myself humbled to be in your presence at last."
The grandiose declaration is one of the stranger things you have heard in your life and you used to deal with drunken patrons when you worked at a university bar. Maybe he was intoxicated; it would explain a lot.
"Look, this might work on other people but I just came out here to have a cigarette -"
It is his turn to interrupt you now. "You will have no need of those going forward. Your addiction to them will be replaced by me."
"Excuse me?"
You are trying to sound incredulous, however, inside you are rather frightened by the turn the conversation has taken. His gaze is not helping either.
The crystalline eyes are embodying every part of the descriptor; a hard, chill inducing blue. Ash drops from the smouldering cigarette as a tremble of fear rattles through you. The man sees this and the ice suddenly melts to a warmer hue.
His tone turns soft and gentle. "We are supposed to be together. Our union is fated."
He's staring at you expectantly even after your two attempts at rejection. You swiftly stub out the part-finished cigarette and take ownership in ending the interaction.
"I've had enough of this. I'm going back inside now. If you try and follow me, I will speak to the venue's management. If you are still here when I leave later, I will call the police."
You turn towards the door.
He calls your name. Your full name. Middle name too.
Despite your brain chanting at you to go inside, you can't stop yourself from looking back at him. "H-how do you know my full name?"
The profound rumble of his voice resonates deep in your ears. "I know everything about you, Y/N."
He's right in front of you now. His posture is bordering between desperate and predatory. Like he can't quite decide if he is seeking comfort from you, or if he wants to consume you.
You are fumbling behind you to find the door handle. "Please get away from me," you say hoarsely.
He reaches for your hand.
You jump back and struggle to get out of his grip but his strength is inhumanly strong. His skin of his palm is glacial against yours and yet somehow, the touch makes heat snake up your arm and settle in your chest.
You become aware of an internal feeling that you've always had, like that of chapped lips. Low level but something that constantly nags. Something that existed every minute of your life until the moment he touched you.
You grip his hand and look up at his face in astonishment.
"Good. That's it. Look into my eyes. See what you know is there."
You do as he says, totally stunned by the depths that seem to reside within them. It's as if there are universes suspended inside. Maybe there are. Perhaps you could float among the celestial bodies if you asked him to show you how.
You feel so alive and overstimulated that you welcome the delirious thoughts taking over your mind.
You welcome him.
It's like there is a cord connected between your heart and his that is shortening in length. The intensity scares you.
You obey, feet moving of their own accord and then you are standing before him, just centimetres apart.
"Give into the pull," he urges darkly, sensing your anxiety.
He smiles triumphantly and presses you flush against his body.
His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. More heat sears through you from the additional skin-on-skin contact.
Your peripheral vision closes tighter and tighter with every passing moment. The outside world is gone.
He leans in further and you wonder hazily if he is going to kiss you or break your neck. Both options are equally viable given the behaviour he has exhibited. You keep staring at him regardless.
His irises flash silver as he intones his next sentence. "Y/N, I claim you as my soulmate."
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Taglist: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt
"Am I your dream girl? You think of me in bed. But you could never hold me. You like me better in your head."
179 notes · View notes
dyns33 · 10 months
Text
Feeling rainy
Another Dream x female reader 
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      “Honey, you look cloudy today. No, rainy."
     "I confirm, he is very rainy at the moment."
     "Matthew. Leave us."
     "Right away, boss. But I'm sick of being wet all the time when I fly in the Dreaming, thank you very much."
It had taken a little time, but during their relationship, Y/N had acquired several certainties about Morpheus, especially about his mood.
The master of nightmares was not very good at expressing his feelings. Mainly because he didn't always know them himself. Partly because he was stupid and not very good with people.
His emotions were like a storm inside him. And therefore, a storm inside the Dreaming, especially when he was nervous, angry or sad.
Happy or neutral sentiments were preferable, with the sky remaining blue, the sun lighting up the whole realm, and the wind seeming to sing melodies.
 Sometimes it was a little too hot, when he was in love and excited, but that was no big deal. Also, it never lasted very long.
Like the weather, Morpheus' mood was changing very quickly, and very easily.
And even though he was doing his best to hide his feelings behind a straight face, the Dreaming never left any doubt that something was bothering him.
     "Is it because of last night ?" Y/N asked calmly.
     "I don't wish to talk about it, love."
     "Not even to please me ? I don't like it when you rain, especially because of me."
     "... It's not because of you. I probably overreacted."
     "Kind of like always, darling, but that doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid. Do you want a hug ?"
     "... Maybe."
The tall, terrible prince of the stories certainly didn't like being seeing as weak, but when Dream was in Y/N's arms, he looked like a cat desperately trying not to purr with pleasure, totally at her mercy.
It wasn't a problem since they were alone, but dreams and nightmares guessed what was going on, as the clouds disappeared and a rainbow formed over their heads.
     "She has to cuddle him all the time."
     "Hush."
     "Merv is right. I may be his more or less emotional raven, but he clearly needs her as an emotional human."
     "Get out of my library."
All of this could have gone quite well, since Y/N had managed to decode the functioning of the Dreaming, and therefore of Dream, but sometimes he was visibly lost and upset by her emotions, not knowing how to help her, and beginning to feel them with her.
Which was not a good thing, for him, nor for his kingdom.
Y/N therefore asked for advice around her, knowing that it was useless to ask Morpheus directly. Morpheus never really answered questions. That being said, his subjects weren't necessarily better for it.
Lucienne, loyal intelligent Lucienne advised her to speak to the Lord, as communication was important, although she had to be careful how she wanted to express what she wanted to say, as the Lord could misunderstand things.
Merv and Matthew thought that they should say nothing and just cover him with kisses and compliments so that he would always be happy. Because everyone wanted him to be happy, and everyone loved rainbows.
The Corinthian had a different opinion.
     "You have to do exactly like him." he declared with three huge smiles.
     "What do you mean, like him ?"
     "You want to help him by doing anything so that he doesn't get overwhelmed by emotions ? So don't show any emotion yourself. Keep them inside, act neutral, use a monotonous voice, express your love with ridiculously complicated little sentences, and it will be perfect."
Normally, it would have been strongly discouraged to listen to a nightmare. But despite their bickering, the Corinthian was arguably one of the creations that knew Morpheus best, so Y/N thought it wasn't a bad idea.
After all, Dream was a bit like a sponge. Absorbing all the dreamers' hopes, fears, desires, emotions, and though he was a separate being who felt distinctly, he couldn't completely cut himself off from the rest of the world.
So it seemed logical that he was sometimes troubled by others, and therefore by Y/N, with whom he spent the most time.
It didn't cost much to imitate him. It wasn't necessarily easy, but she could do it, for him, so it wouldn't be rainy or stormy too often.
So she trained in front of a mirror, doing her best to remain impassive as she thought about a joke, her deceased grandfather, an adorable kitten, her boss whom she wanted to strangle, and lots of things that never left her indifferent.
Part of her had thought Morpheus wouldn't notice. Another hoped he would see it, that he would be happy, and that she could smile to herself.
While they were watching her favorite movie together, a funny scene played out and she didn't react. Then another, and another, until Y/N felt that Dream's attention was no longer on the screen, but on her.
     "My love, you seem distant."
     "Not at all. I'm enjoying a pleasant evening, with you." she said with a neutral tone.
     "... You didn't laugh. Would you like to see another movie ?"
     "No, I like this movie. You weren't laughing either, do you want to change ?"
     "I never laugh."
    "Because you're too melancholic to find aything funny ?"
     "... No. My laughter... I was informed that my laughter could be frightening."
Y/N then turned to him, and at that moment, she almost smiled, finding the revelation ridiculous and adorable,  wanting to hear that laughter that her lover was so ashamed of, out of curiosity, but above all to reassure him.
Except that for that, she would have to show emotions, and make him feel emotions, and the goal was to remain as neutral as possible, so Y/N forced herself to remain neutral, looking at him straight in the eyes so that he knew that she was serious, while looking for the right wording.
"I'm sure your laugh is sweet." was the best thing that came to her, patting Morpheus' hand, before watching the movie again.
There were many other moments like this, at the New Inn, at the park, in the Dreaming, and Y/N really thought that everything was fine, that she was doing a good job. The weather seemed calm, with a few distant clouds, but no storms in sight.
Still, there was something in Morpheus' eyes when he looked at her. Curiosity mixed with fear. She didn't dare tell him about it, thinking it was nothing, and he didn't tell her either.
Until Matthew came to visit her as she was getting ready to go to sleep.
     "I don't know if I should ask you to go to bed quickly, or advise you to stay awake."
     "Why ? What's going on ? Morpheus is in trouble ?!"
     "Uh... That depends. Is everything okay between you two ?"
     "Yes, perfectly fine. Why ?" she asked, suddenly worried.
     "I don't know. It's foggy at the moment. We've had a few rains, a few tornadoes, but Lucienne managed to calm it down. Except that... Hmm... I don't know if I should say it."
     "Matthew."
     "He thinks you don't love him anymore." sighed the raven, lowering his head.
The news hit Y/N straight to the heart. For a moment, she wondered how Dream could have come to such a conclusion. Then she remembered how Dream was, his difficulties in understanding people, emotions, and even if he himself didn't often show what he felt, he clearly needed others to show him.
For a month, Y/N thought to make him happy. For a month, Morpheus thought she wanted to leave him.
     "... This is a terrible misunderstanding."
     "Glad to hear that. Can you tell him, please ?"
Falling asleep when stressed might take a while, but Y/N needed to see Morpheus quickly, so she closed her eyes thinking hard about him, and she arrived on the balcony of his palace.
It was raining.
Obviously, Matthew had come to see her before Lucienne went to speak to her master.
Dream stood in the rain, motionless, watching his realm. He didn't move when she came close to him, resting her head on his shoulder.
     "I love you, you know that ?" she asked shyly.
     "I hope so."
     "In wanting to please you, I made a mistake. Your mood changes so easily, you can be so fragile, so sensitive."
     "I'm not fragile." he muttered, continuing to stare into the distance.
     "You are, but that's neither an insult nor the question. I thought... The Corinthian told me that if I don't show my emotions, I won't upset you with them and that you I would be happy. I wanted to help, really. Since you know that I love you, I imagined that it wouldn't change anything. It would be inside, like for you. Sorry."
Finally, Dream turned to her, looking surprised and solemn. He stared at her for a long time, before taking a deep breath.
     "I see. So you made several mistakes, indeed."
     "Dream..."
     "You listened to the Corinthian, a nightmare."
     "I know."
     "You thought it would be good for you to keep your emotions inside, like me. Knowing that my emotions are never really inside, but entirely outside, in the Dreaming, while you should keep your storms in your little heart."
     "I get it, I..."
     "And you believed that I would like you to deprive me of your smile. Of your laughter. That you hide your sadness from me, which I could erase with kisses. Your anger, which I could appease with poems. Your love, which I carry in my chest. All this to make me happy ?"
So Morpheus did something that Y/N hadn't imagined.
He laughed. 
And like he said, his laugh was a little scary. Inhuman. A sound that mortals weren't supposed to hear, that no one was supposed to hear. But he was laughing, and he was smiling, and he came over to kiss her, and Y/N thought she liked that sound a lot.
     "My love, your emotions, all your emotions, are my joy. Do not hide them from me."
     "Okay. But promise me you'll tell me when it's rainy, and why."
     "Very well."
     "And I was right, your laugh is very sweet."
     "Yeah, I guess love makes you blind and deaf."
     "Matthew. Leave us."
     "Yes, boss. Glad it's not raining anymore."
Indeed, the sun had returned as he spoke, a bright sun, and even if the weather could never be perfect, like their relationship, Y/N would do everything to make Morpheus as bright as possible.
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