could do s/o slaps morpheus on the ass as they walk by and then s/o says "your ass was asking for that honey"
Dream of the Endless x Reader
Summary: "You've got nice cake, what can I say." "I... do not have cake at all."
Word Count: >900
Warnings: The domesticification of Dream of the Endless, Dream's booty gets slapped, saucy insinuations, gender neutral!reader, fluff, typos, etc.
A/N: IM SO GLAD IM GETTING REQUESTS FOR MY GOTH BF YUH LEZ GETIT
gif from pinterest
I rolled out of bed with a grunt after silencing my whiny alarm.
Like clockwork, the moment I got to my feet, I headed to my bathroom and got my toothbrush and toothpaste. Mid brush, I headed to the kitchen to ready myself something to eat.
I stopped when I saw what I did.
Dream, who had been cooking an egg, turns over his shoulder upon feeling the presence behind him, "good morning, my love."
Foam drips from my mouth down my chin.
The man in nothing but black boxers watches this.
I run for the sink beside him and spit out the mix of morning breath and toothpaste.
"You're still here?!" I gasp, turning to Dream, who promptly plated the egg. He chuckles as he places the last of the food he prepared on the table, along with pancakes, sausages, toast, hot chocolate, coffee, oatmeal, bacon, waffles, berries, cream, tea-
"You expressed your desire to eat breakfast with me in the Dreaming. How could I not grant you that?"
I quickly attempt to finish my teeth brushing as I sneak a glance upon the surface of my table. Upon seeing the buffet the man prepared, I finish up, gargle, and wash my toothbrush.
I turn back to him and his idle stance, shoulders relaxed, chest bare, then release a breath, "yes, and so it seems you prepared breakfast for the entire street."
Dream turns to the table as I put my toothbrush away. I walk over to him when he asks, "did you not mention you eat these things for breakfast?"
"Yes," I raise my brows, "but not hardly all at once."
Dream looks back at me while I run my hands up his toned arms. I nibble my lips as I massage his shoulders. I gaze upon his pouty lips and barely knit brows as he mutters, "I see. My mistake."
I snort at him and then grab his cheeks into my fingers, gently squeezing as I press my lips on his pillowy ones. He places his arms around me, palms on my back, and pulls me close, allowing me to deepen our kiss.
I pull away with a pleased smile, "an honest mistake, darling."
"I will help you consume what you do not finish."
I make a twisted face as my jaw drops, "did you mean for me to finish all that myself?!"
"Oh, my sweet boy," I coo, rubbing his cheeks, "my sweet, sweet boy."
His face begins to liken a grumpy kitten.
I pull away and sit down, immediately grabbing a pancake and stuffing it in my face. I then get a sausage and nearly burn my fingers when I pinch the egg. I let out a garbled pained noise because of it.
Dream raises a brow at the sound of whining, "I can get you a plate."
"Mmm," I chew then swallow, licking my pained finger, "that would be wonderful."
I turn over to him to instruct him where to grab the tableware but cut myself off for two reasons: 1) he was perfectly aware which cabinet held my dishes, 2) that round badonky-donk hello, good morning, how are you on this fine day?! I nearly choke on my food but force it down roughly.
I bite on my lower lip tightly as he effortlessly opens my overhead shelf and grabs a plate along with silverware.
When he comes back and places the plate in front of me, I look up at him with wide eyes and release my lips to mutter, "what about your plate?"
He stills, "ah yes."
The moment he turns around, I give his booty a mighty slap, sending a ripple not only on the area, but to his very being, and make him stop in his tracks.
I cannot mask my enjoyment and giggles, even after he looks down upon me in dark offence.
Before he could get a word in, I squeeze his supple flesh and grin, "you've got nice cake, what can I say."
"I... do not have cake at all," he reaches out to my wrist as he raises his brows inquisitively, "are you quite enjoying your violence?"
I hum and nod, "your ass was asking for that honey," I lick my lips, as I continue my massaging, "practically begging, if I may be so bold."
He takes his turn to hum, "I have never begged in my entire existence."
"We all start so-"
I barely catch his rumbling sound that leaves his throat as my chair screeches when he rips it back. All at once, my hand is off him, shooting up at the unexpected shift. I am now facing him.
"I recall your many complaints of not having enough energy in the morning. It is why I cooked for you in the first place," he bends down that our nose barely touch. One hand caresses my neck, "if I hadn't known any better, I would say you lied to your king."
My hands dart up to his cheeks, "it just happens that I'm never too tired for him."
The next moment, I gasp when Dream grabs my wrists. My pulse quickens rapidly and he smirks, feeling it under his fingers, "careful of your hands. I shall have them bound if your brazenness persists."
I chew on my lip, "and what if I want them to be bound?"
He chuckles, "then I would not deny my sweet lover the fantasy."
𓅨 Shifting Wings Masterlist
Shifting Wings: Before the Raven Matthew, there was Jessamy, and Jessamy came with a little sister by the name of Adrienne. Dream adores his two little Ravens, but after over a hundred years of imprisonment and the death of Jessamy, Dream will find that he has not just lost his companion, but his beloved little Raven Adrienne no longer brightens the halls of his Palace. None of his staff wish to speak of where the Raven has gone, but the silent new resident of the palace is cause for question. After all, she was the one who aided in his release. If none of his subjects would help him find Adrienne, perhaps she could lead him to the whereabouts of the missing Raven. If only the woman wasn’t so flighty and hard to track down.
Overall Warnings: Gore Description, Blood, Violence, Inability to Feel Emotions, Deflection, Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a Major No No), Overprotective Dream.
To Note: Morpheus/Dream x FemaleRaven!Reader, NAMED Reader (I like the name).
(Current) Total Word Count: ~k
❗= Explicit Material Rating
🩸 = Graphic Injuries/Descriptions and/or Abuse Injuries.
𓅨 Chapter One
𓅨 Chapter Two
𓅨 Chapter Three
𓅨 Chapter Four
𓅨 Chapter Five
𓅨 Chapter Six
𓅨 Chapter Seven
𓅨 Chapter Eight
𓅨 Chapter Nine
𓅨 Chapter Ten
𓅨 Chapter Eleven
𓅨 Chapter Twelve
𓅨 Chapter Thirteen
𓅨 Chapter Fourteen
𓅨 Chapter Fifteen
Date Published: x/x/x
Date Completed: NOT YET FINISHED
Last Edit: 11/23/22
Crew boys + Y/n
Y/n:If you bite it and you die,it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venomous
Dream:What if it bites me and it dies?
George: Then you're poisonous. Jesus Christ, Dream learn to listen
Sapnap: What if it bites itself and I die?
Quackity: What if it bites me and someone else dies?
Dream:That's correlation, not causation
George:What if we bite each other, and neither of us die?
Quackity: That's kinky
Y/n: Oh My God
[Child of the Endless]
[Published: Wednesday, November 23, 2022]
Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F. Reader
Word count: 3k+
Warnings: Light spoilers for the comic, a bit of a slow burn, implied child abuse/neglect (not with Morpheus), slight yandere themes/tendencies, also soft Morpheus (is that even a warning?), maybe a tiny bit of OOC Morpheus (who knows, you decide)
Notes: This is longer than I intend this to be, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Also, who else loves the idea of a darker version of Morpheus loving you platonically?
Eh? ...anyone...? Don't leave me hanging here... (༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)
Any comments, theories, and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated and very much welcomed! Especially since this was my first time writing headcanons...
I also would appreciate it if you REBLOGGED my work instead of liking them. It helps not only me but others' works to be put more in the top spots of the tags algorithm, so our works can get seen by as many people as possible. Thank you for understanding!
╔═ ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ════════════╗
What it's like being Morpheus's, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams, adopted human daughter (unwillingly, mind you)... [Part I]
╚════════════ ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ═╝
⋅✦⋅ Dream isn't a being known to be friendly or open by nature, appearing cold, abrasive, and oftentimes self-obsessed. To most people and even his own subjects, he's a distant and somewhat intimidating guy, and they are right in a way. Even with his past relationships and the passion he had felt for each of them, it's so very rare for him to get attached to someone or simply show any kindness to anyone in general. Especially if we're talking about Dream before his one-hundred-year capture.
⋅✦⋅ After what became of his only son, Orpheus (and Calliope leaving their marriage because of this), he became colder and more reserved than he previously was. Of course, the pain he felt when each of his relationships had ended had hurt him, but practically losing a child (given his son was now just a head and disowned Dream as his father long ago), it's a pain that words can not even express. And because of this, Morpheus couldn't imagine seeing himself getting attached to someone ever again, let alone someone that, dare say, could bring about something he thought lost long ago…
⋅✦⋅ However, all of that drastically changes when he meets you. An ordinary human girl, of all beings.
⋅✦⋅ Your meeting with the Dream Lord could either go one of two ways. The first was that your father was working as a caretaker for Alex Burgess, and he didn't want to leave you alone with a sitter, so he decided to bring you with him to Fawney Rig in Wych Cross. There, you would hear rumors that Alex Burgess's Father captured the devil, and it resides in the basement. Sometimes you'd catch the guards carelessly talking about the supposed 'Dracula' they're being paid to watch over, intriguing you immensely. Not long after being in the mansion, you made a plan to sneak into the basement, where you were met with a pale naked man in a glass dome. His eyes were the first thing you noticed, they shined and burned like distant stars, slowly dissolving into a pale icy blue color the longer you stared at them.
⋅✦⋅ Or, after Morpheus had successfully retrieved all of his tools, he found himself sitting at Waterlow Park in North London, pondering on what his purpose was outside his function. The Lord of Dreams felt empty whilst he fed the pigeons and ducks with a loaf of fresh bread he brought with him. You were just a simple passerby, wanting to take a break from school work and the 'drama' that always occurs in your household between your parents, and that's when you randomly came across a man dressed in all-black moping. You raised a brow at the sight, curious about his sullen expression, but then saw him feeding the birds with the bread he had, which made you point out that he wasn't supposed to feed them bread, since it's bad for them. With that, you sat on the bench and began to talk to him, which earned you a weird look from him.
⋅✦⋅ You, for some reason, had immediately grabbed the Dream Lord's attention unlike any other being had before. There wasn't anything particularly special about you, just an average teenage girl. Because of this fact, it left Morpheus entirely confused, yet somewhat intrigued. Trapped inside his glass confinement, he watched with a careful gaze as you slowly approached him, looking around the place as you started to question him. Albeit you were a bit hesitant, more so confused if anything. At first, he had tried ignoring you and your questions just as he did with Roderick and his son. However, he couldn't ignore the genuine concern when you looked at him, someone who was but a stranger to you. It was the first time in his captivity that someone showed him any kind of concern for his well-being, someone who showed him kindness, even if it was small. In the park, Morpheus was less on guard now that he was free and more powerful than he was before, but instead of fully ignoring you and the questions you would ask him, he would answer vaguely, which ended up frustrating you, and to his surprise, he found your reactions quite amusing (he also found your little pouts adorable, not that he'll ever admit it, out loud anyway-).
⋅✦⋅ After your first visit to him, he found himself surprised by the gentle warm feeling slowly swelling in his chest. With imprisoned Morpheus, he was wary of you and your intentions, knowing that humans were all selfish creatures, and eventually you would ask him for something, just like his captors. But the more time you spent with him in the basement, talking to him even though he never answered, slowly softened his wariness of you. The more he thought about it, the more he understood that you being there with him was a great risk you were taking, not only for you but your father. You always set a timer on your wristwatch, and immediately leave once it went off, not before sending your goodbyes to him. With pigeon feeding Morpheus, he was curious about your random interaction with him and became more so at the thought of speaking to you again (even if you were the one doing most of the talking).
⋅✦⋅ Not before long, with each visit from you, the warmth within his chest seemed to grow bigger until he became extremely fond of you. At first, he tried to deny his care for you, then resenting you for unearthing a piece of him he had previously believed didn't exist as an Endless being (not that lasted very long. With one look at your face, that anger immediately demolishes into nothing but a distant memory). In truth, even with his previous relationships, he wasn't used to loving anything, and when he (not so) surprisingly found himself doing so, he firmly believed that he would eventually lose them in the end. Everyone that he had loved, that was supposed to love him back, had either one way or another abandoned or forsaken him, and it left him with a deep ache in his heart. However, with each visit from you, he realized this feeling, this fondness for you was the best for him. That you were the best of him, that caring for you was what made him painfully, yet so wonderfully human. Along with this, you had brought him hope, something he thought he had lost long ago. After everything he has been through, with his relationships and the tragedy that befell his son eons ago (and also his imprisonment), he never thought himself to be able to undoubtedly care for someone again, let alone a human child of all beings. You had quickly made your way into his Endless heart, without even knowing it.
⋅✦⋅ You became a constant figure in the Dream Lord's life, and he couldn't stop himself from seeing you. Not that he could in his imprisonment (nor did he ever want to). You were a very curious child, always showing how much you cared for him and his well-being, eyes shining brightly whenever you would talk to him as if his presence brought you happiness. And during this whole thing, Morpheus found himself unconsciously smiling more around you, staring at you with a soft look in his starry/icy blue gaze.
⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he remained silent but would listen intently to you ramble about whatever topic you had in your mind, making subtle movements and being sure you knew he was listening to you. One particular memory was engraved in his mind where his stoic demeanor shifted and you had seen a smile gracing his lips. At first, you appeared slightly shocked, but then, your entire face lit up at the sight of his smile, however small it was. He remembered so vividly how excited you had gotten, how proud you were to achieve making him smile, and promising that you'll make him smile again, but even bigger. Morpheus wanted to see that expression on you again, the pure joy you had, and it was all because of him simply letting out a smile. When he was left alone in the basement once more, he was quite taken aback at the thought that he was the one to make you beam so brightly.
⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, he'd quietly listen to you talk, and would sometimes ask questions, and he couldn't help but feel pride swelling in his chest whenever your eyes would brighten up at his very simple questions. You'd become more lively, your smile widening with joy, and he noticed this particularly happened whenever the conversation was about your hobbies or the thing you found yourself enjoying recently. While you excitedly spoke, Morpheus quietly observed your expression, wondering when was the last time he had made someone this happy, had someone smile up at him with the brightest of smiles, eyes nearly glimmering with stars that were almost similar to his.
⋅✦⋅ As much as he cared for you, he was still careful to not get too attached to you. However, (surprise, surprise) that didn't end up happening. When Morpheus began to regard you as his child, seeing you as his daughter, he knew he had to quickly sever his connection with you, however great the ache in his chest hurt to just consider the idea. For he knew getting close to any human was a dangerous thing, not only for himself and his realm but for you. If he didn't, he'd have to watch you grow into the fine young woman he knew you would become, slowly growing older and older until his sister Death finally arrived and took you away to the Sunless lands. Or, the universe would see his affection for you as some sort of crime and end up punishing you, an innocent child, for his selfishness of not wanting to be alone once more. He didn't think he could live with the pain of losing another child again, having to be forced to watch you wither and die just like every other human that has ever existed before you.
⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, he could sever your relationship instantly, yet found himself hesitating when he was in your presence, waiting for the 'right time' to do it. Imprisoned Morpheus however didn't have that luxury. Instead, he forced himself to build up walls around his heart, for he knew the moment he was finally free, he had to immediately leave you and wanted to lessen that pain. He recognized that if he didn't do this, the pain would be too much for him to bear.
⋅✦⋅ However, all of that changed, depending on which path fate decided for you and the Dream Lord to have.
⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he instantly knew there was something wrong when you entered the basement with the lack of your usual bright greeting. Not even a smile was being shown his way. You quietly took a seat in front of him like you usually did, and that's when he noticed an old book in your hands. When he glanced at you in question, he found that you were avoiding his gaze, which confused him but more so worried him, especially when you finally did meet his gaze, you looked completely lost, guilty even.
⋅✦⋅ You apologized that you didn't realize it sooner, apologized for the wrongdoings that Roderick and his son did to him, and most importantly, that you were sorry for being so blind. Morpheus sat there, completely stunned by your little speech, but more so when your tearful gaze turned into determination as you declared that you were going to get him out of there. Morpheus felt his starry eyes water, his hope of being free, of going back home to his kingdom that had once seemed so far from his reach was now so very close, and that was all because of you. And you, a child that possessed such a rare and beautiful heart didn't ask anything in return, just for him to set things right for everyone. He slowly placed his hand on the glass, watching with a tender look as you placed your smaller one on the glass, smiling up at him.
⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, you two were walking through the park, the Dream Lord silently cherishing his last visit with you. You then suddenly pushed him aside, causing him to stumble for a very brief second. He heard you let out a noise of pain and saw you on the ground, along with a male and his bicycle on the ground beside you. The sight of you hurt, blood seeping from your now scrap and dirty hands caused something dangerous to take hold of him. That feeling grew, even more, when he saw the man that had slammed into you with his bike reach out to help you up. If looks could kill, the mortal that dared hurt you would have been dead right where he stood. And if his glare wasn't bad enough, his voice was.
⋅✦⋅ It was so cold, so full of barely contained wrath as he commanded the man to not touch you. Not only did this leave the cyclist and the people around you frozen in place, but it also left you feeling afraid of Morpheus, being unable to recognize the man in front of you. Without another word, he quickly yet gently picked you up (bridal style) and carried you out of there. You were surprised by his actions but mostly embarrassed as you tried hiding your face in his chest, from the eyes of the people there. You asked him about it, but he isn't say anything, bringing you to a quiet area where he carefully tended to your wounds.
⋅✦⋅ Morpheus knew then and there that he couldn't leave you, your love for him was far too precious to abandon. He made a promise to himself that very day that he was going to love you for all eternity, that he would do better, for you deserved that and much, much more.
⋅✦⋅ Whenever you had to leave him, to avoid getting caught by the guards or to head back home and start on your homework (or how you would put it, to avoid your parents arguing about your whereabouts), it left him feeling immensely saddened by it. However, you would always playfully tease him, asking if he was sad, which would either have him send you a pointed look or quietly scoff, denying such a claim of being sad, even though you both knew it to be untrue. You'd reassured him that you would always come back, and you did
Would anyone be down for a more detailed version of the two different meeting scenarios? Separately, of course. I think it's a pretty neat idea, considering I would have more freedom to further expand the relationship between Dream and the Reader in the different meetings, whichever fate has decided for them to have.
⋅✦⋅ Until one day after growing completely attached to you, you suddenly stopped appearing.
⋅✦⋅ At first, he thought you were late since it wasn't the first time it had happened, which you'd apologize for it. But as time continued to pass, with no sign of you coming, Morpheus began to grow worried.
⋅✦⋅ Even if you were late, you never missed a meeting with him. What could have possibly happened to cause you to miss it? But Morpheus, with the hope you gave to him, allowed himself to calm down, believing that you'll show up the next day. He knew you wouldn't just stop out of nowhere, especially if we're talking about imprisoned Morpheus. Yet that didn't stop the ache from building deep within his chest at the thought of something bad that could be happening to you.
⋅✦⋅ One day turned into two, then three, then four, and by the time he knew it, it had been a week since he last saw you. His concern grew to the point where he was nearly distracted from his duties, mind clouded by endless thoughts of you.
⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he'd silently sit in his glass confinement, his thoughts always circling back to you, to your silly little rambles, your quiet and adorable laughs, your precious smiles. He was so used to being alone in the basement (alone in general, let's be honest here), sitting in the silence he had forced upon himself. However, the longer you were away, it started to become torture for him. And this can be said for free Morpheus. He'd quietly sit on the same bench you two always sat on, mindlessly watching the people there as his thoughts would go to you. Sometimes his raven Matthew popped in because Lucienne, his librarian, sent the male bird to check up on him.
⋅✦⋅ Perhaps you had simply grown bored of him, finally finding someone willing to spend time with you and listen to your conversations. Someone better, someone who wasn't him. It wouldn't be the first time. If we're talking about imprisoned Morpheus, he would feel even worse as those thoughts plagued his mind. Why would someone, let alone a human child, want to spend your time with him, someone who's trapped in a glass prison and doesn't say anything in response to you and your questions? Or maybe you have possibly changed your mind about freeing him. You didn't owe him anything, you only stumbled upon him through your own merits. That last thought alone sent him down a deep, almost dark spiral.
⋅✦⋅ Morpheus had tried finding you through your dreams (even if his powers in the basement were very weakened), yet he couldn't find you. By this point, the Dream Lord was beginning to become quite desperate to see you again, if only it was for a second. He never felt like this before in his entire existence, as if his Endless being needed you by his side for him to continue onward.
⋅✦⋅ When you were, one way or another, back in his life once more (and imprisoned Morpheus no longer in his glass confinement), there was a heavy weight lifted off his chest, as if he was allowed to finally breathe again. Upon seeing your face, nothing can ever compare to the enormous joy he felt, and at that very moment, Morpheus would make certain that you would never leave his sight again. Your unexpected absence from him for the first time since knowing each other made him understand that he simply couldn't live without you, his precious child. He couldn't bear the pain of you being far from him, where he couldn't find you or make sure that you were safe. You are far too important to the Endless.
⋅✦⋅ After that whole incident, the Dream Lord began to send his raven Matthew to watch over your waking life, sometimes even watching you through his companion's eyes (much to the raven's annoyance). When you went to sleep, Dream would personally watch over your dreams, making sure no nightmare dared to enter the beautiful dreams he carefully crafted especially for you.
⋅✦⋅ Too many times the Dream Lord found himself being affected by the thoughts of you one day leaving him as everyone he had ever loved did, disowning him as his own son had done eons ago. It all had hurt him at that time (though, he'd never admit it), but just the thought of losing you, of you hating and abandoning him, causes him a great deal of pain at just the mere thought. He couldn't possibly imagine going through that again, knowing that there would be nothing felt of him…
But what do you guys think? I would absolutely love to know!
Until next time my dear readers!
reader gets some unwanted attention and dream gets really protective? smut afterwards?
protective | dreamwastaken
requests are open! I write everything (smut, fluff, angst, you name it) and for anyone:), just let me know if you want it to have smut or not!
warnings: protective/possessive dream, smut, unwanted attention,
,,Oh wow such a pretty girl and she's all alone? Such a shame`` You heard a stranger's voice behind, so you turned to him. As expected, you've never seen this person, but you noticed he had the organizer/staff card around his neck. He was way older than you, and his eyes were traveling along your body, making you shiver.
,,I am not alone though``You smiled at him and turned back to the bar. You were at a YouTube related event with your boyfriend, and he was just answering some questions about his career to the interviewers. That meant you had an hour all for yourself at the all you can drink bar. So far you've only drank soft alcohol drinks, not wanting to get waster.
You felt a hand wrap around your waist, and you tried to move away from him. His hand was tightly wrapped around you. You felt his fingers painfully digging into your skin.
,,Let me buy you a drink``He whispered with a disgusting smirk. You tried to push him away, but that was no good. You desperately looked around, but there was currently no one behind the bar and only a few people in the big room, all busy with something.
,,I told you I am not here alone and now let me go`` You said through your teeth, still trying to push him away. His other hand reached to your cheek, but was quickly stopped by Clays hand. You looked at him with fear in your eyes. He wasn't looking at you. He was killing the man in his head, knowing that he couldn't actually hurt him. Not here at least.
,,I think you heard her``He said with calm voice, still painfully holding his hand, almost braking it. The man looked super scared. Clay let go off his hand and the man started to rub it. You knew that would leave a bruise.
,,I will make sure to ruin your life`` Clay said after he took a step closer to him, looking down at him, since he was so much taller than the stranger. The man apologized and rushed away. Clay was looking after him for a few seconds, before turning to you, cupping your cheeks.
,,Did he hurt you?`` He asked you, worryingly scanning your face. The situation was scary, but not cry, worthy. However, when Clay asked if you were okay, tears appeared in your eyes. You hated crying, only because he showed he cared. You sniffed and nodded your head. Clay dried your tears and looked around the room.
,,Let's go home, hm?``He put a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you quickly shook your head. You didn't want to ruin his night like that.
,,The event barely started and-``Clays lips stopped you from continuing, and you closed your eyes, enjoying his lips. He placed his hands on your hips, which made you jump a bit. You still saw the man's face.
,,Wait let me help you`` You've been struggling with untying the strings of your dress for a hot minute now, you started to be frustrated, but thankfully Clay came to the room, now wearing only his jeans and white shirt. He removed your hair from the back and started untying the dress that he tied few hours ago. His fingers were hot against your skin, and you closed your eyes. Once he was done, he kissed your neck and then turned you at him. He helped you out of the dress, leaving you only in your panties. Clay has obviously seen your boobs many times, but he acted like his eyes were glued to them. You grabbed his hand and walked him to the bed with a smirk on. You got on the bed, playfully opening your legs. His eyes immediately fell to your pussy. He took off his shirt and unzipped his pants. You bit your lower lip when he roved his boxers and got on the bed as well. He got in between your legs, kissing you hungrily. You put your fingers in his hair, tugging on it gently. He removed your panties and teasingly put his cock against your pussy. You moaned into his lips, and he bit your lower lip. You were watching his face as he guided his cock to your entrance and slowly pushed himself in. His cock always felt so good, you closed your eyes and whined. Suddenly he felt very possessive over you. He imagined you moaning under someone else. He wasn't blaming you for what happened, but he absolutely hated the idea that other men even remotely thought about you. He started fucking you hard and fast, making your mind go foggy.
,,You're mine`` He said through his teeth, and you quickly nodded, unable to answer him. Clay didn't know where to look first. He wanted to watch your moaning face, your boobs that were on full display and his cock quickly sliding in and out of your tight pussy.
,,Clay...``You moaned his name, once you felt your orgasm coming.
,,Be a good girl and cum for me``He said, and you let the feeling consume you, quickly grabbing his biceps, for some support. Your pussy clenched around him, pushing him over the edge soon after you. He groaned and gave you a few more thrusts, filling you up with his cum.
When you felt him pull out and got out of the bed, you smiled at him. He put his boxers and brought you some new clothes. You needed to rest in the bed for a bit, so he filled the tub and went downstairs to make you your favorite meal.
This is...exactly what you’re expecting it to be. Funeral angst and acceptance, general Sandman stuff. Recently I’ve realised I’ve been narrating bits of my own life which is strange to say the least but I’ll blame it on the amount of writing I do in third person. Anyways... warning for Sandman spoilers. Very slight Daniel Hall X Reader.
The Kingdom now lies in the hands of the Queen, and it will remain so until the ceremony is complete, the wake and the funeral. And then it can be passed over to the new Dream of The Endless, not Morpheus, no, but Daniel feels all he felt and remembers all he lived through. After the procedures it is up to The Queen of The Dreaming what she wishes to do. Whether she wants to be put to rest by her husband, continue as a monarch of The Dreaming or be freed from the reigns of royal duty, she isn’t sure. Y/N has yet to make her choice.
At the moment she stands at the gates of The Dreaming, dressed in black and lace, thinking of the last time she saw her husband. She had known his choice to die from the very beginning, it was something he had been mulling over for a while - should the opportunity present itself - and when The Furies came and reigned terror across The Dreaming the Queen could simply nod and smile, kiss her lover, as she knew what must come next. The end.
She had yet to meet the new Dream of The Endless, an internal storm raging on inside her. Should she love him as she had loved her husband? - No it wouldn’t be right. She had to no right to be angry at him, it wasn’t his choice. Morpheus had made his decisions and that was that. That was that.
The Queen of The Dreaming was interrupted from her thoughts by the arrival of Five figures, all of which she recognised: Death, Destiny, Despair, Desire and Delirium. She greeted them gracefully, expecting formality and poise. But then Death pulled her into a hug, Desire crossed their arms and Despair’s eyebrows scrunched together, Delirium pouted like a child on the edge of tears and Destiny flipped through his book, as the Queen of The Dreaming clutched her sister in law and the two women began to cry.
Y/N watched as The Endless built the wall, taller than any creature or citizen, she watched as they picked up bricks and placed them, her neck bent to the sky, her hands folded gracefully and Matthew, perched on her shoulder.
He ruffled at his feathers for a minute before speaking, “Have you made your choice?”
“No, not yet. And you, dear bird?” She raised a hand to gently stroke his feathers, run a finger down his beak. The raven simply shuffled about and huffed before responding, “No.”
“The Guests will arrive soon.”
“All those Dreamers...” The raven sighed, “That many people in The Dreaming must have quite the toll on you, no?”
She nodded gently, “True, Matthew. But it was the burden Morpheus had to bare and as his wife, I must too.” She stated and that was the end of the conversation as the two of them watched The Endless build the wall the doors of The Dreaming began to open.
But the Raven managed to slip a few last words in, “You’re allowed to be sad y’know. Everyone’s sad...but you deserve it more than most.” And then he was gone.
By the time The Endless were done all the guests had arrived, and those killed by The Kindly Ones were resurrected through, if she had to guess, Daniel. He wasn’t Daniel, she knew that, but it felt wrong to call him anything else because Dream of The Endless was a title reserved for Morpheus, her Morpheus.
Once everyone had arrived and offered their condolences to the wife and family, it was time. People shared stories of The Dream Kind and the chatter of the crowd seemed to go on and on with stories and wine and laughter. A joyous occasion for most, to celebrate the existence of someone who inspired many.
But the noise silenced when the great gates, built by the endless, swung open, and on the other side stood the only five Endless in attendance. The Queen stepped forwards first, taking each Endless by the hand, sharing solemn looks with steely eyes before they all turned and walked forward, leading her kingdom and people into a new reign.
The area that had been crafted was beautiful, a place for eulogies to be spoken and stories to be shared. The onlookers watched as an avatar of desire spread a cloth over a slab of marble and slowly, Morpheus appeared under the sheet, his silhouette as sharp as ever. The sight took Y/N’s breath away and her fingers itched to tear the sheet back and see what was under there. But she composed herself and listened to the words of her husband’s siblings, all of them with their own opinion of Morpheus. The only one who didn’t speak was Death, and when they were all done it was her turn.
She cleared her throat, “People of The Dreaming, I stand here before you today, not just as a Queen but as a sister, a lover, a wife who has lost her husband. Dream - Morpheus - meant more to me than I could comprehend and now that he is gone, his absence feels like the loss of my heart.” She steadied herself, “My husband was a loyal king who learnt much in his time and still had much to learn. The only thing that can come next are better days than this one.” She nods, a sad smile and tears in her eyes, “He loved us all in his own unique way, and he has made many sacrifices for The Dreaming. So, the most we can do is respect his decision and let him go peacefully into the night.” She finishes her speech and steps gracefully of the podium. And as someone takes her place, Lucienne, she knows this is a pain she will carry with her forever.
Y/N sits in the library, Lucienne across from her, a glass of wine in both their hands. For the first time today the two women are allowed to relax, and they sit and sip their alcohol while reminiscing. They know things will change in The Dreaming, and they make a point to savour the way things were before everything becomes different.
But the two know it is small conversation, a distraction from the nerves that eat Y/N whole. Because at the moment, Daniel Hall is meeting his new siblings, and then he will meet the person who was once his wife and then the kingdom will be his. There’s something sad in the idea of the handover - Morpheus and her had planned forever, until the universe ended and Death kissed them both goodnight - but he had let her take him earlier than they had agreed on, and it had lefr her in a compromised position.
She sighed, swilling her wine around her glass before leaning her head on her palm, “I don’t know what to do Lucienne...”
Lucienne pushed her glasses up her nose and sighed, “You must do what a King would do.” She told her, “You must do what your heart tells you to. If your heart says “stay” then stay. If it says that your time as a ruler of The Dreaming is done then so be it - and we shall say goodbye to you too.”
Tears sit in the Queen’s eyes, “I don’t want to go Luc. I’m not ready to go. I love this kingdom so much, my friends - family - but I know it won’t be the same without him.”
Lucienne’s eyebrows furrow and then she is also crying, standing from her chair and approaching Y/N. She gets down on her knees and takes her hand, “Perhaps it is time for me to go too... I am a relic of the past. We don’t have to die, but just know, my Lady, that where you go I will go too. This I swear.”
Y/N nods, “And I to you, Lucienne.” She says, and then she is pulling the librarian up and into a hug, tight and loving. And it’s just the comfort that both of them need right now as they cry into each others shoulders and savour the embrace of true, unsullied friendship.
That is until there is the clearing of a throat and the squawking of a raven.
Y/N quickly pulls away and both women face their new ruler, Daniel Hall. He looks so much different than Morpheus did. Whereas the previous Dream Lord had taken to wearing blacks and had sharp features, Daniel was covered from head to toe in white, and his face was soft... even friendly.
“My Lord.” Both ladies echo and bow to him. Lucienne splits off from the two of them with a quick, “I shall give you two a moment.” And then she has slipped through the doors of The Dreaming’s Library, leaving the Old Queen and The New King alone.
The moment is tense and awkward, two sets of hunched shoulders and stiff hands, flickering eyes and nervous glances. And then Daniel Hall speaks.
“He loved you too much.” He says, the ghost of a fond smile on his lips, “I can feel all he felt for you burning away inside me, like a forest fire but so much stronger, so much brighter. What he felt for you could never be put into words. He tried, you know, he tried so many times.” She knows the words he is saying are cruel comforts and validations but it melts away the awkwardness and she smiles lightly.
And deep down she knows that this is the end. Visions flash behind her eyelids of Lucienne and her in a small cottage by the seaside, the picture-perfect life where they spend the rest of eternity, as planned. They bake and craft and volunteer and read books and eventually open up a little cafe off the side of their house. She can smell the lightning as he speaks, the burning and extinction of a thousand stars, birth and death all at the same time.
And Y/N, Queen of The Dreaming, looks at Daniel Hall, and in a single blink, a single breath, hands over the The Dreaming. He tells her she is welcome to come whenever she wishes, and she will always remain as The Queen, in title and honour. But she’s not sure she’ll ever take him up on his offer.
She knows what waits for her at the end of her life - how her bones will melt into stardust and Death will pick up the sand in the palm of her hand and gently blow, until she has found a place in the night sky, right next to her husband. And then, her story will be over.
I’m not sure I like this... but the idea is sweet.
drabble or whatever. Morpheus x Reader angst time. No real thought put into this, just impulse writing to get something out finally.
Main idea hit me is Dream lied to you about the status of your world and family/friends there. Telling you they were fine and all. Yet never could you see them for some reason. Until finally the truth was revealed to you over what has happened to them. Now the both of you are experiencing the aftermath of this painful truth coming to light, that should of been told to you from the beginning.
Silence was shared between the both of you. Dream sat across from you, his gaze away from you while he was trying to come up with multiple excuses for his actions.
He was trying to protect you, do what he felt was best for you, it was out of love he thought, he kept trying to tell himself...
Though nothing could fix what has happened now. What has occurred. The dream lord lied to you, and broke your heart and trust in the process.
"I'm leaving." You finally said, getting up from you seat, your mind set to finally leave this realm, to leave him, once and for all.
"Leave to where? You have nowhere else to go." He said in a harsh tone, his words cutting deep as you knew that was the truth.
"ANYWHERE! I WON'T STAY HERE ANYMORE! YOU LIED TO ME, MORPHEUS! YOU TOLD ME MY FAMILY, MY FRIENDS, MY WORLD WAS FINE!" Tears started to fall as your words came out in cries. Anger mixed with sorrow, you let out a scream as you fell to your knees while knowing you'll never see any of them again.
Your family, your friends, the place you used to call home. It was all gone because of some disaster that even the greatest of super heroes couldn't stop apparently. Though the worst of it all, you didn't even have a chance to say goodbye.
"I have no where to go...I don't have a home anymore...I'm alone...I'm completely alone." You continued to weep as you hid your face in your hands, wishing to hide yourself from everything and everyone around. While same time wishing this nightmare would end, and you would wake up to see everything was okay after all. Though this was no dream, this was no nightmare. Dreaming in the dream lord's realm rarely to never happened now.
"...That's not true." Dream said softly, who now was standing before you, slowly taking a kneel to be face to face with you. "...This realm, my realm, it is your home now. It always has been now ever since you started to live with me here. Ever since you became apart of my heart and life." He hesitantly reached his hand out to your face that you finally revealed to him again. As he gently wiped some of your tears away. "As well...you're not alone. I'm right here. You'll never be alone. I promise you, I'll never leave you, my beloved."
"...I can't trust you." You lowly choked out, your tears falling more but desperate for comfort you lunged forward to hug him. "I can't--You lied to me--Dream you--" Your sobs made it hard for you to get anymore words properly out as you cried into his chest.
"...I know. I know...And it's a mistake of mine I will have to live with for the rest of my existence. One though, I hope in time, I can make up to you..." His words came out lowly yet softly as he wrapped his arms around you to pull in close for a hug. While his hands rubbed your back in a attempt to comfort you however he could now. "...I know apologizing won't fix what has happened but...
Ughh but just imagine you on your knees looking up to him with doe eyes while sucking him off
fine i caved
*this is not proofread i made it at 3 in the morning but take it as u please*
nsfw! also this is my “first” fanfic written where it’s actually being published so sorry for any mistakes please feel free to give thoughts or ideas for more!
word count; 284
he felt such euphoria after seeing you take all of him. you took your hands and starting stroking the parts that your mouth couldn’t fill. you looked up only to be met by his eyes slightly glistening like he wanted to cry, his mouth agape with the most loveliest moans coming directly from him. dream almost lost it just by making eye contact with you. god you were hopeless. you needed him so bad but you wanted to make sure he was taken care of first. the way his hands held your hair up not wanting to stop your pace. you kept prolong eye contact with him, wanting to see him up close which drove dream nuts. his desperate groans and grunts indicated he was close. you stopped and swiped the spit lingering around your lips back into your mouth. dream whimpered from the lack of contact and you noticed his desperation the second his eyebrows scrunched up when you stopped. “wait please don’t” you cut him off because you knew if he begged for any longer you would’ve came then and there. he quickly melted onto the kiss in desperate need to be engulfed by you. sharing sloppy kisses with one another as well as soft moans coming from the both of you. his hands stroking every piece of you, slightly lifting your shirt up and going over your back. you took your own hands and put them over his, guiding them to his clothed dick, him gasping at the contact. “let’s take care of this yeah?” his pupils grew every time you talked him through. he loved the way you demanded him although he doesn’t show it he’ll do anything for you.
me personally I just think that Dream would fuck reader as hard as he can to get them loud just so he can see sapnaps flustered face the morning after
omg I absolutely agree
maybe he’ll let sapnap join next time as well
i can imagine Dream, with his hand on your thigh as you two sat together. eventually you pushed your thighs together slowing pulling Dream’s hand away in the process. He wasn’t having it though, he puts his hand right back onto your thigh and forcibly pulls your thighs back apart. 🤭
exit light, enter night. || [1.]
morpheus "dream" of the endless x f!reader.
He’s determined to hate you. Unfortunately, fate has other plans. There’s only so long that one—even Dream of the Endless—can stave off the inevitable.
Reluctant Allies to Lovers. Grumpy x (Somewhat) Sunshine. Unwilling Soulmates.
WORD COUNT: 7.6k
WARNINGS: Explicit 18+ ONLY; Enemies to Lovers Elements; Slight Tinges of Toxicity; Angst (Honestly, These Two Will Give You Whiplash); Mentions of Blood; Biting/Marking; Vaginal Fingering; Oral Sex; Other Potentially Non-Exhaustive Warnings: Read at Own Risk; The Sandman (2022) Spoilers; Not Beta Read.
MASTERLIST || NOTIFICATIONS
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A/N: Let’s be very clear up front. I am only halfway through the season and I’ve never read the comics. All of this could be extremely innacurate in the lore— but a reminder that this isn’t to be taken too seriously. It’s fanfiction. A bit of fun. I’ve given you this little PSA so you know what you’re getting into.
"Are you going to let me go yet?" It's a question, but not you're not scared of the answer.
Dream of the Endless may be a god. Silent, mysterious, and most likely still vengeful— but right now, he needs you. It's not often that one comes across someone with the gift of True Sight and Travel. You’re a Lucid Dreamer, as unpracticed as any might be, but it still gives you power in all realms. The ability to untether one's own soul is rare, and all too useful.
So, his reply is not a surprise. "Your Order still has a debt to repay."
That's true. The Magus can't keep a god locked in the family basement for almost a century and expect to get off scot-free. Even you, here and now, can see the sense in that in the immortal’s eyes. And you'll do anything to earn the release of your old mentor from his dream prison.
But that debt nor your power is likely not the only reason that the Endless keeps you at his side. You know that as well as Lord Morpheus does... Even if he won't say it aloud.
It whispers underneath your skin. Simmers in each moment that your eyes lock. Deep and inexplicable, the bond tethering you both waxes clearly when you use your Other Sight. Bathed in moon-silver, and sifting like sand— unignorable since unveiled by the Fates.
They’d called it a gift. Free of charge. You couldn’t help but feel like his turmoil is already paying the cost.
Knowing that you're looking again, Morpheus visibly tightens his jaw. But still, he can't stop his melancholy eyes from flickering over to look at you once more. Despite the fact that he's never truly touched you, the mere brush of his stare alone makes you shiver.
Soul ties are rare. Even the Endless don't fully understand them. But the Lords of the Realms are not meant to be bound in such fickle ways, yet there it is. With a mortal, no less.
He, obviously, isn't. That is why, you have quickly come to know that while he doesn't quite understand that while you might be powerful in magic, just as much rest and re-fuelling is required to function as with any other human. Given this, you sigh, running a hand down your face and desperately wish for a shower. Shooting another quick, assessing glance at the Endless’s way, it seems that he might be in a better mood right now.
Johanna Constantine had said her goodbyes only moments ago. His bag of sand now lies firmly within his white-knuckled grasp. Perhaps it will be enough for tonight.
Now is as good a time to try as any.
Moving a bit quicker to keep pace, you turn to him. "If you're not going to let me go, can you at least let me sleep? Or even just let us stop to get a cup of coffee?"
He doesn't answer, just turns to sweep that cold stare across your face once again. It’s always so heavy. Under it, you sag slightly. The exhaustion of the last few days weighs a little wearier in your bones.
"As soon as I wake up, you can whisk us off to Hell and I won't complain a bit. I'll even set an alarm to make sure we’re on time. Just a few hours.” A swallow constricts your throat before you finish, “Please."
Maybe it's the plaintive note in your voice, or the sudden waver that infiltrates the tone. Whatever the cause, something in the shadowed recesses of his expression gives ever so slightly. Morpheus dips his head into the fraction of a nod. You almost smile in response - just before catching yourself.
Whatever. He's still a stoic asshole at the best of times. Not that you'll ever say it to his face.
Yet, as one dark eyebrow lifts in silent challenge, it's clear that it might be a bit late for that.
"Your thoughts could remain more gracious," Morpheus says calmly, and sweeps past you once more. “Remember your place, girl.”
Girl— as if you are lesser somehow. It stings.
Head lowered in embarrassment, you hurry after his long strides. Yet, under your breath comes a muttered response. "Still learning the ropes, your Highness. I've never exactly been a god’s soulmate before."
His back visibly stiffens at the 's' word, but the Lord of Dreams doesn't comment again. Shoving your hands in your pockets, you shadow his wake - lost in your own head. The bond ripples with agitation.
And then—thankfully—a series of rustling flaps sound beyond your ear. One-sided weight settles upon your right shoulder. Your lips twist upward in a soft grin, hand already rising to stroke lightly down a feathered head. "Hi Matthew."
"My lady," the raven replies politely, trying his best at propriety. “It’s pretty cold out here tonight for a human. Don’t you think?”
“A little.” Agreeing, your eyes fall somewhat enviously on Dream’s long coat. No doubt the Endless don’t feel this mortal cold— so why does he need it? It looks far more snug than the pitiful blazer you’d thrown on before being dragged to the Dreaming more than two days ago. “But, his most gracious Majesty has agreed to stop, so I’ll be out of it soon.”
Up ahead, his head swivels, eyes narrowing at the undoubtedly mocking undercurrent of your tone. Instead of admitting another trespass, your gaze widens in mock innocence. Matthew chortles as your hands lift in a ‘what?’ motion. Despite the intent, Morpheus can’t fault the delivery. It sounds all too deferential, even if it isn’t.
A low growl rumbles from the depth of Morpheus’s throat. “Just around the corner.” Pale blue eyes flash as his attention turns to Matthew. “And she’s not your lady. The human holds no titles.”
Ridiculously, the bird opens his beak to argue. “But she is your—”
Swiftly, you pinch it shut with two fingers. His speech muffles, wings flapping in surprise. Morpheus looks at you again. Stilling, you hold his stare. This whole thing is so bizarre.
A slight smile twitches at the edges of your lips.
The hard lines of the Endless’s face become less stern, and just for a split second— it seems like he might almost return it.
But then a bus blows past at the top of the street above, horn blaring. He snaps back into cold disapproval at the sudden sound, withdrawing from the moment instantly. A low ache radiates in your chest.
Once more, Morpheus turns from you. This time, though, it's with finality.
He doesn't speak again until you're mounting the steps of an archaic hotel. Matthew flies off, circling above. Following his upwards track, your eyes take in the facade. Stone exterior. Carvings on the front.
It's obviously stood for many centuries, and you wonder how many times he's been here before. And with how many people.
No. You're not jealous. You barely know the guy.
Inside at the reception desk, you have to dig around in your pockets to find your wallet. Morpheus just stands blankly beside, making no move to cover the cost. Gritting your teeth, you wonder if Endless are just tight by nature, or if he doesn't understand the concept of money.
Some damn stingy boss he is, not even financially compensating your overnight work trip.
His admonishment flares upon instantly reading that thought, and you can't help but think that this little one-way peek into your mind is completely unfair. He's already a god. Does he really need more advantages? But, whatever. It's not worth the headache.
You don't like to fight, after all. Never have. Arguments give you a migraine, but it's harder to resist with him. You have this need when it comes to Morpheus— a burning urge to prove yourself. It can turn the most even temperament into something sharper.
The clerk gives you the card to the room, and off you go. Riding up in the silent elevator, the tension that ticks in the air finally grows too much. Half-turning to face him, you try not to appear too eager. "I can just meet you tomorrow. You don't have to stay."
"Yes, I do," he replies simply.
"I won't run. We made a deal, I'll see it through until my end is finished."
Surprisingly, his head dips in a nod. "I know you will. The possibility of you attempting to flee is not what concerns me."
"Well, then. What is it?"
Another beat of hesitation. It's clear in the sudden tightness to his jaw. Whatever it is, he's uncertain—or perhaps hesitant—about how exactly to voice it.
Finally, he does. "The Fates have unveiled a connection between us. It's going to make you a target. You’ll have more to worry about than this quest. I won't leave you alone here until we’ve succeeded."
"Awwh,” you say, flashing a teasing smile. “Stop it. It's beginning to sound like you care."
Eyes narrowing in pronounced disdain, Morpheus doesn't retort. It matters little, as his unamused glare is more than enough. Thankfully, the elevator bell choses that moment to ding, cogs grinding to a halt as the lift stills. He steps out quickly, as soon as the doors open— and you cover another laugh with a pretend cough.
The room they gave you is large and cast in shadow. Neither of you bother to reach for the light, but those filtering in from the street allow you to see well enough. Hardwood floors stem across the ground, leading to four bay windows along two sides of outward-facing wall.
It’s at the corner of the building. Intricate gratings protect the lower fringes of the panes, for safety as well as decoration. You can tell that it’s recently been furnished, but the high ceilings still feel old.
An enormous bed looms against the wall. It’s an antique thing— mahogany headboard reminding you of your room in Fawney Rig. Such thought brings back memories of Alex, of Paul, and your hand instinctively creeps upward to grasp at the amulet hanging from your neck. The pendant was a gift from your mentor on your twenty-fifth birthday.
He told you that it had been his mother’s. She’d been an Order member too. It hangs now, carved with that familiar sigil.
Dream’s lofty voice brings you back from the memory. "Seize your chance to rest. I shall take the chair."
He doesn’t wait for an answer before stalking away. Your eyes track on his heels as he makes for a plush armchair in the corner of the room, and sinks into it with a slight grunt. Those expressionless eyes find yours again when he notes you’ve yet to make a move.
A slight simmer of nervousness wells in your chest. "Are you going to watch me sleep?"
"I watch many sleep,” he replies, deadpan. “My doing so doesn't make you in any way extraordinary."
God. You want to roll your eyes at him. Instead, you just settle for a winning smile, and a shrug. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Outside, a caw sounds as Matthew circles the building, before rising upwards to rest upon the rooftop. Maybe it’s your bond with Morpheus feeding through in turn to his connection with the raven, but you can see the bird in your mind’s eyes— perched against the night and watching the red tail lights of passing cars down below.
Biting your lip uncomfortably, you shake your head in a wordless bid for courage before stepping towards the bed. It’s daunting, but tiredness weighs heavy in your bones. Pausing, you glance over your shoulder and see that his attention is purposefully cast outward, past the flimsy netting of the curtain to the streets beyond.
He starts slightly as he realizes the intent. Throat constricting in a slight swallow, Morpheus nods his head once, and then his eyes avert. His stare purposefully casts outward, boring past the flimsy netting of the curtain to land on the street outside.
Trying not to feel the embarrassment that threatens to heat your face, you strip off your blazer first— hanging it off the footboard. Your shoes are kicked off next. When reaching for the buckle of your slacks, just for a moment, you think you feel his gaze begin to tick back towards your body. Bated breath locks in your throat as you bend to push down your trousers.
Yes. You can feel him looking. His stare prickles against the backs of your legs, and then burns across your rear. The cushion of the chair squeaks slightly, as if he’s tightened his grip on the armrests just a fraction. Sneaky bastard.
Unable to help yourself, you look back— just in time to catch the violent whip as his head snaps away once more. Even in the low light, a slightly pink blush dusts his cheeks. Despite having told him not to look originally, you can’t help the huff of amusement that bursts from your lips.
And inside, your erratic heartbeat whispers that you hope he likes what he saw.
Remaining dressed in your white shirt, you peel back the covers and slip into the bed. A content sigh billows from your lips as your body all but sinks into the thick mattress. Finally able to relax, you can feel every crick and ache that’s amassed in your bones the past few days.
First thing you do upon going home will be booking a massage. Deep tissue. Approximately four hours, if they’ll let you.
“Is the room to your liking?” His hesitant voice cuts through the silence.
Unexpected. Freezing for a moment, your head lifts from the pillow, eyes locking on him across the room. He still refuses to meet your gaze, staring out the window, but you can feel the weight of his attention upon your response.
“Yes,” you answer after a few extended moments. “It is.”
Almost appearing a little uncertain, Dream adjusts himself again. His gaze falls upon your face. It’s still not soft or friendly, but a little less severe than before. Underneath it, an odd sort of bashfulness fills you, and you snuggle down a little deeper into the safety of your bed.
He says nothing else. Not ‘sleep well’, or ‘thank you’, or even ‘see you at eight and don’t wake up late.’ Silence spreads through the room, but it feels a little easier than before. Not so strained and chalked with resentment. It seeps into your bones. And then, he starts to hum.
It’s a low, melancholic sound. One that catches you in its current, and casts you back— to falling asleep by Fawney Rig’s hearth after studying late, and dreaming of a man with the cosmos in his eyes.
Finally, after many long days where your only semblance of rest was jolted dream walking under his command, sleep finally embraces you in its thrall.
He thinks that you look peaceful. You’re pulled under, lost to the world. Buried so deep in sleep that you’re not even wandering the Dreaming, even after hours. He wonders if it happens often. Really, you must wear yourself out with all that incessant talking.
Sometimes, Morpheus thinks that it never stops.
But perhaps he’s just being unfair. After all, it’s not like the bond doesn’t play a part. Your thoughts and memories churn through it— disorganized and messy in that very human way. He hears you even when you’re not speaking. Has since the Fates unveiled the connection.
Except for now, when it’s quiet again. The past few days, he’d often reminisced on this peace with longing. Now, it somehow feels unnerving. He’s grown used to the noise quicker than anticipated. He almost misses not having to live solely within his own head.
His mind has not been the same since his imprisonment. While yours is often pandering, and usually distracted in an almost youthful way, it’s also kind. He can feel your love for others, your sense of justice and forgiveness. The fierceness in which you protect those you care about.
It’s a nice place to hide at times. Not that he’d ever tell you that.
But, he can also feel your emotions for him. The draw that tugs at your side, always towards him, in the very same way as his does yours. It centres you like gravity. Binds you in destiny. Terrifies you— and he’s not one to offer comfort.
Especially not when it scares him too.
It’s a cruel joke to tether you both so. Everything in him wants to rebel against it. To defy it. But, as he watches you slumber—face soft, lips parted, and breathing deep—he can’t help the despondent ache that runs through his chest, nor the way he rises to his feet without a sound.
The Lord of Dreams crosses the room. Not a floorboard creaks underfoot. No sounds echo upwards from the street outside. Everything takes on a strange muffled quality, as if the rest of the universe has stripped itself away to offer privacy. To let him have this small moment, as he stops at the side of your bed, and looks down.
You’re so close. He can see the flutter of lashes against your cheek. How the nail varnish on your fingers is chipped, and the shirt you’ve been wearing for almost three days has a smear of dirt just below the collar. Haggard lines draw your face. For the first time, he registers that you’re exhausted.
It makes him feel something. Guilt. It laces in whispers through his veins, up into his ears. Tells him that you’re his, and he’s not being good, he’s not being kind—
His hand strokes longingly down the side of your face. He doesn’t even remember lifting it. It happened on instinct, without conscious thought. A simple attempt to smooth the distress from your features, because despite everything, he cares.
The tip of his index finger follows the curve of your cheekbone. Your skin is so soft underneath his touch. Wistfulness bubbles inside of his chest. His eyes flutter closed. Morpheus can’t help the low, almost tortured sound that escapes him. Grimacing, he opens them again— intent on stepping away from this torment.
Abrupt, he stills. You’re awake. Eyes opened, locked on his face.
His heart rate accelerates. There’s something in your gaze— wonder, and a yearning that mirrors his own. He thinks that you might speak. Might make another smart comment as you did earlier, a retort that will make it so easy for him to recoil, but you don’t.
Instead, you turn, nuzzling into the palm of the hand that still hovers above your face. Your gentle kiss presses against his skin, soft yet searing like a brand. Somewhere in the distance, he swears that he hears the Fates knell in triumph.
Then, you move, hand reaching upward to twist in the front of his black sweater. You pull him down, rising simultaneously— and he lets you. The ridge of his nose skates along your cheek. Morpheus can feel your breath against his, the flutter of your lashes upon his skin, how warm your hand is through the fabric upon his chest.
Should pull back. Should get away. Should stop this.
Your lips brush against his. Gently, at first. The briefest passing, like the skimming touch of a raven’s wing. And again— another whisper. It’s him who leans in truly. Him, who closes that last miniscule distance to press against you, and slides his hand behind to cup the back of your head.
Your chest hitches in response. The kiss deepens. Shoulders relaxing, your head falls back to give him access, to allow him to slip his tongue into your mouth and play in a way that makes you gasp. He thinks that he can taste your dreams. They’re bathed in gold, like the light of dawn. Like the soothing heat that surrounds you like a hearth, and reels him in.
He’s felt cold for years. For decades, ever seen he woke up in the shadowed basement of Fawney Rig. Only with you, here and now, does that chill start to strip itself away. And, Morpheus feels himself beginning to fall.
He’s kissing you.
You’re kissing him back. It’s more than unexpected. Maybe you’re still dreaming? Yet, you know that even the power of your mind could never conjure a moment that brims and flares like this.
His hand slides from the back of your head to cup your jaw, thump pressing into the hinge to part your mouth further. The Dream King looms above where you sit on the bed. He steals the breath from your lungs, more with each flick and lap of his tongue. But you’re happy to drown under him, to drink him in.
And so, unwilling to let up, to sit back and think, you take it further.
Hungrily, your teeth tug at his lower lip. A moan grates from him, and the sound catches you both off guard. Overcome, you bite down further. Harder than you should have. Instantly, you know it’s a mistake.
There’s copper in your mouth. Blood suddenly tart on your tongue. Morpheus flinches back— the sting lurching him abruptly back to reality. Already, you know that’s about to happen.
Eyes flaring wife with realization, he tears his mouth from yours. Breathing heavily, the Endless steps back. His hair is gloriously ruffled, and lips still swollen from the crush of your kiss.
Your heart lurches painfully at the sight. It feels like it's going to beat out of your chest, but his reaction is different. So very different.
Coat whirling at his heels, Dream turns. Somehow, you know that he's going to flee. You can't let him. Ignoring the fact that you're only wearing a shirt and underwear, that your legs are bare and he's a god, you scramble out of the bed, across the room after him.
Your hand wraps around his wrist. Immediately, he wrenches it away, and you know that such action was the wrong move. Eyes bright with anger, he whirls.
His other hand clutches the wrist you grasped, holding it as if scalded. There's no time to be defensive or standoffish. He's past the point of calm.
You'd only intended to stop him. To talk to him. But he had only wanted to get away, to shake the reminder of your effect from his skin, and a simple brush of skin had stopped that. A convolution of emotions pours through the bond.
The Endless's face is contorted in confusion, panic, and anger.
“Don’t dare to touch me” he stalks forward— real, actual fury bubbling to the surface. “You’re part of the.Order. Alex Burgess’s loyal apprentice. Nothing gives you any right over me. To speak to me. To reach for my hand.” Morpheus is eating up ground, looming unnaturally tall, and you’re almost tripping over yourself as you stumble backward.
“Whatever they say you are is a trick,” he seethes. “Some other ploy to unhinge me. To make me weaker.” That animal sheen is back in his eyes. Your heart thuds violently in your chest, so hard that it threatens to catch in your throat. “I will never care for you.” Spittle flies with the words. “Endless don’t have soul ties. This is wrong.”
Maybe you should be terrified. You’ve never seen him like this. Wrathful. Unrestrained. There should be tears, and begging— but that’s not what’s happening right now. Your pounding heart isn’t due to fear. This response is different. It’s unnatural and so very human at the same time.
You can’t tear your eyes from his lips. The scent of him—like the sharp clarity of sea breeze in the dead of night— loods your senses. Can’t resurface from the sensation of being stalked like prey, and somehow wanting to be caught.
And then, it happens.
“We are wrong,” he hisses, just as the back of your legs collide with the bed— and you topple backward onto it.
Both of you freeze in place.
A slant of moonlight casts across his face. Off to the side, a breeze slips in the opened sliver of bay window, twisting the hem of the curtain. Lightly tousling his hair. The image of him burns through you again— iced fire and want that leaves goosebumps in its wake.
His eyes sear into you. So blue. Biting. Like frost-tipped spear swimming in poison. Towering above, Morpheus looks down as if he hates you. It’s clear in his glare, the clench of fists at his sides.
He resents this. Perhaps loathes it more than anything else he’s experienced in his lifetime. And for someone who’s lived so long and endured so much, that says a lot.
But you’re not a god. You’re a woman— a formidable thing too, but no King of Realms. A college drop-out, magic enthusiast. Someone who breaks a little easier than he does, as you lie breathless on your back and drink in his cold fury.
“You’re beautiful.” It slips from your lips as barely more than a whisper.
Soft and yearning. Wavering slightly as your voice breaks apart on the last syllable. Not a lie, but a pained admission.
His lips part slightly, as if wanting to speak but unable to— floundering. It’s caught him off guard. Thrown him for a loop, and he doesn’t seem to know how to retort. One of his hand rise, reaching up to brush the edge of his lips. An image spears through the back of your eyelids.
Somehow, you know that he’s thinking about the kiss. How your lips felt against his, hands gripping the front of his thin sweater. The manner in which the air had tightened in his lungs. It echoes through your own body, an after-effect of his, and the Lord of Dreams breaks the stillness to lift a pained hand.
“Don't.” He sounds ragged.
The insides of your knees brush against his legs. Despite the words, he hasn’t moved back. You don’t try to touch him again. Not after last time. However, you can’t steal your gaze from his face— and that’s when you see it: His roving eyes passing over the hem of your shirt, ridden up beyond your thighs in the fall.
It pools at your hips, one side fluttering upward to reveal a sliver of stomach. The Endless stares at that bared inch of skin, and then at the underwear below. If this was any other moment, any other man, you’d have been squirming away or crossing your legs— because you’re already turned on, space between your legs tingling.
His tongue darts out to trace across the line of his bottom lip. Chest heaving a little harder, his breathing grows heavier. Reluctance wars with a tinge of something other in the depths of his expression.
It lurches another admission free. “I think I’ve dreamed of you before.” Not making to sit up, or scoot back— bated breath remains locked in your chest as you wait for him to respond, still laid below. HIs face almost blanches further, the truth striking like a blow. “I... I might have dreamed of you all my life. I just never remembered until now.”
A low growl rumbles from the depths of his chest. Fingertips brush against the outskirts of your thighs. Your knees knock against his legs. Morpheus looms inward, hands curling around the underside of your thighs to lift your legs, angling your body just as he needs. A strangled moan catches in your throat as the hardening swell of his front rubs experimentally against your core.
It ruts over the damp strip of panties. The friction against your aching clit has you writhing, forgetting your earlier trepidation and reaching for him again. Nails sink into the flats of his trousers as your legs lock around his hips to pull him closer. Morpheus hisses at the bite in your grip but doesn’t move back. He tilts his hips further inward, until you can feel the low pulse of his shaft through the fabric restraining you both as he grinds in.
“I think you may have been made to fit me,” he whispers— and in that moment, you know that the inevitable has happened again.
His hands travel up to curl around the waistband of your panties. Peeling them free, your breath catches again as he sinks to his knees, guiding them down your legs all the while. Desire coils in the pit of your stomach as his stare burns between your legs, and directly into your now-bare cunt.
"I... I shouldn't," he whispers, but those large, pale hands are already pushing your knees wider apart.
He can't tear his attention away from your core. Propped on your elbow, you can see how wet you are. How you glisten for him in the moonlight, already so prepared. Mesmerized, he leans forward to drag his index finger slowly through your slit.
Wetness gathers on the tip of his digit. He examines it, before shifting forward to push it back inside you once more— index coupled with middle, curled halfway. It's such a practiced motion.
"You've done this before," you gasp, eyes drooping as the sensation of his fingers pushing through your walls takes over.
He doesn't lie. "Yes. I've had mortal lovers. Just never a..." He breaks off, but you already know what he's going to say.
Never someone soul bonded. How could he have, after all? Every being cursed with such a predetermined fate only gets one tie. He's yours, and you are his.
His digits pump inside of you. They're buried almost to the knuckle, pushed and angled so perfectly that you can feel them bumping against the rough spot deep within your core. Your head falls back with a groan, and Dream makes the rarest sound— He chuckles.
It's husky, disused for more than a century. But even the mere hint of the sound has you moan, further aroused by the rough tone of his amusement. How it’s hoarsened by his own building lust, shown in his smug voice as he speaks in a low tone akin to the distant rumble of thunder; "Oh, you enjoy that? Not half so defiant now."
He pumps his fingers again— pushing until your toes start to curl. Those blue eyes are intent upon your face. The darkness of his pupils swallow every twitch and change of your expression, capturing your responses and filing them to memory. He starts out slow, teasing. Only gradually picking up the pace, until you’re on the cusp of begging.
The wet sounds of his fingers delving in and out of your cunt fill the air. The sound stirs across your skin. It catches the breath in your lungs, until each gasp is coming high-pitched and needy. You want to beg, but the words are stuck unformed in your throat. All that you can do is look at him, the plea shining in your eyes.
He smiles— a small, beautific thing, and that does it.
The coil of heat bubbling within your stomach snaps taut. Spasms rushing through your body, your head falls back— crying out as the climax breaks across. Your cunt flexes upon his fingers, pulsing. Morpheus swears appreciatively, saying something soft in a language that you don’t understand.
But then, he slides his fingers free from your cunt and lifts them to his lips. Enraptured, you watch as he tastes them. One at a time, sucking your slick clean of his skin. His eyes flicker to you as he does, wearing their sheen again. Reminding you of the first time that you truly saw him— a monster inside someone else’s mind.
Just a wrathful shadow upon a darkened chair. But here and now, you’re not a bit afraid of him. You haven’t been once since you laid eyes on him. Not even when he lost his temper. Certainly not when he’s groaning in want at the motion of tasting your cunt, and leaning forward to grasp your legs— draping them over his shoulder.
Without any more hesitation, Morpheus dips inward.
You can feel the draught of hot air as his breath puffs against your bare cunt. The sensation tickles over your clit, and your hands fist tighter amidst the bedsheets in response. Still, he pauses instead of continuing. Those unfathomable blue eyes tick upward to fix on your face.
The Lord of Dreams drinks in the expression on your face. How your pupils are blown, irises dilated and thin with desire. Although your lips are not dry, your tongue swipes across the bottom line— wetting it eagerly.
Unable to help it, you say the words again, voice tight and hoarse. “You’re beautiful.”
He growls once more. That rumbling, hungry sound. Sharp teeth catch on the side of your thigh, and his bitemark indents your skin in one swift motion. It stings, sinking deep, and another gasp hitches your chest. Surprise wars with arousal.
Down below, your cunt throbs with another bleat of need. You can’t help your reaction to his mark. A brand— one that silently signifies all that he refuses to say aloud.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Your whimpered cry distorts into a whimper as Morpheus, watching you intently, leans in. The tip of his nose brushes against your clit. Electricity surges in your veins. Forgetting his earlier admonishment, your fingers descend to tangle amidst his fine strands of dark hair.
The Endless reaches up, prying your fingers open. Barely struggling, he holds your wrists at your sides. Pinning you in place, as he delves in further— invading any remaining space. Reminding you of his rules without saying another word.
His tongue surges through your cunt in careful, hungry strokes, and his lips purse and pluck around your clit. Wrapping around, he sucks harshly. It has an immediate impact, coils of heat snapping inside your lower stomach, and your body bucks in response.
Yet, Morpheus's iron-like grip keeps your arms pinned. There's only so far you can move. Only a few inches to shiver and strive away, and he chases you with each iota of space.
His cheeks brush against the tender skin of your inner thighs. Looking down, his pale face is framed so perfectly by your legs. Another aching moan spills from you at the noise. That animal sheen burns in his irises as arch against him, riding the twists and delves of his confident tongue.
Seeing your response, his shoulders straighten— and he grows bolder. You're so close to the edge, but he won't let you fall again just yet. Wanting to do more, to give more, he changes tactics, burning tongue pushes in and out of your cunt over and over.
A yearning noise grates from the back of his throat. That flash of vision crosses the back of your eyelids again:
You can feel it trickling from him. How his cock throbs inside of his trousers, straining to get out. By now, it’s rapidly, almost painfully hard. The type of ache that can only be sheathed by a deep, fast fucking intent on letting all of those emotions free.
But not just yet. Dream has a different quest to finish first.
Slick is tart on his tongue, and spills down his chin. Reaching down to palm desperately at the front of his trousers, Morpheus savours the taste. He dips in and out. Basks in the reactions of your body and the noises that you make— before rising the tip of his tongue to swirl so playfully against the exposed bundle of nerves at your centre.
The sensations are delicious. Building and building. Driving you higher and higher. Shudders run through your body, the intensity going with each firm lick. It overstimulates your senses, drives you wild. Carries you so above the moment that you don't quite realise the grip has sunk from one wrist, and his cold fingers are now entwined with yours.
And you're so close. So fucking close. Then, you're right there.
Crying out, keening— body seizing as you shatter right into his slightly smirking mouth.
He doesn’t let you go. His grip only tightens, so hard that you already know it’ll leave bruises. Pinning you there as he laps every last shudder of release free from you, and licking until you’re dizzy— moaning, eyes blurry and unfocused.
Only then, does he rise. Through half-focused eyes, you see him loom above you, hands seizing your legs to pull you closer to the edge of the bed in one smooth motion. Your heels are still against his shoulders, but now his hands drop to fumble with his belt.
His expression is wild. Unrestrained. He’s been caged for so long, and now he is not holding back any more. A zipper jerks downward, and he doesn’t even push off his trousers. Just shoves them low enough to delve in and free his cock, pitching forward to brace himself above your body on one arm.
You can't see his cock. But you feel it. He growls, hips tilting, and then a thick, swollen heat pushes through the lips of your cunt. The head pulses against your entrance.
His arm moves, pumping his shaft in preparation. Desire is growing inside you again. You've had his fingers and his mouth but they aren't what you truly need. That's his cock, only his cock— pushing deep inside and claiming you. Pounding over and over until you lose everything but him.
Even now, he teases you still. Swirls his tip around your clit, and slides it up between the glistening lips of your cunt. Mixes saliva and slick with the bead of precum gathered upon his head, and wondering what it'd be like to spill inside of you.
And you crave it. More than anything, you want to feel his body shudder as he spurts deep. The sheer image of it is too much, too strong.
A cry slips from your lips before you can stop it.
Not my Lord, or Your Highness, or Dream— not any of the rest of them. Only his name, his actual name, spilling from your lips. Burst free as he drags his cock through your dripping folds, gaze fervent and half-possessed as it lifts from your weeping slit to your face.
Your expression. The way you look at him. It threatens to end him right there. But then... His eyes lock on the amulet on your neck. It rests between the rise of your breasts, framed by the unkempt collar of your shirt, and he remembers.
Dream of the Endless is adrift in a London hotel room, losing himself between the legs of an Order member.
He’s spent a century in a cage. Decades trapped, by the people that you are a part of. By the man that you love as a father— and that reminder rips through him with the force of a knife. Every single one of his other senses are screaming at him, pleading to sink into the wet heat of your cunt. To claim you, burying himself over and over until there is nothing else in your world but him.
But he can't.
He won't. Not anymore.
Morpheus is supposed to hate you. He does. He hates you. Or does he?
It makes him snap back, recoiling as if struck. All of that vitriol pours back in. Splashes of it aimed at you. Most of the tide crashing over himself. But, his anger and resentment has to go somewhere.
His cock sinks in the slightest inch into your cunt. He feels your head throw back against the duvet. How your back arches, toes curling in anticipation as the burn of him stretching you open begins. Gasping, the Lord of Dreams wrenches out before he can sink even further and stumbles back.
Sweat beads his forehead. All over, his muscles are spasming, body screaming in protest about all that he's just denied. He detests himself. He detests you— and that startled expression on your face as you scramble upright. Your eyes are wide with confusion, your mouth agape in shock. That old anger spears through him again.
"What have you done?!" he hisses, as if it's all your fault.
It is, he tries to convince himself, it has to be.
How dare you sit there, looking so innocent? As if your mere existence doesn't complicate things further. Threaten to ruin the last shred of his old life that he has left. He won’t allow it.
You’re quicksand, but he’s the Sandman— and he knows how to navigate these soils unscathed. How to free himself, at least for now.
But he can still taste you on his tongue. Feel how your wetness glistens and dries upon his chin. It's too much and yet not enough. He needs distance. Needs escape, and a breath of fresh air.
Needs to get away from you, even for just a minute.
“She-devil,” he all but spits, and then his shadows warps— in the blink of an eye, Morpheus is gone.
You're alone on the edge of the bed. Half naked, and left in a daze as the cold air of night wraps around your naked lower half. A minute passes. Then another. Morpheus doesn't return for either, nor for any of the rest that span out of it.
Already, you know that he's fled back to the sanctity of his realm. Probably locked the fucking door behind him too.
Jaw setting in a mix of anger—and a hurt that you don't want to acknowledge—you slip back under the covers. You’re not sure where your underwear is, and it feels shameful to go hunting around for them. And then, the most embarrassing thing of all happens.
The trickle of a single tear wets your cheek.
Angrily, you reach up to wipe it away. Nope. You’re not going to cry over that asshole. Irritation—at Morpheus, at yourself—rises thick in your throat, and you cling to the indignation. When he returns, you won’t be so quick to forgive him.
Rolling over, you release a frustrated sigh, unsure of how exactly you’re going to fall asleep now. Too much is churning around your mind. A sudden, insistent tapping sound from over at the window thankfully steals your attention.
You only pause to retrieve your panties before heading for the window. The pane, already slightly open, is hard to yank upwards but you just about manage. At the next moment, Matthew hops in.
Despite the fact that he's a bird, pity radiates from his expression.
"It sounded that bad, huh?" Despite everything, you chuckle dryly.
His wings flap slightly, uncomfortable. "I think... I think he's just confused. It's a lot. Lucienne said that he's different. Being in that cage changed him."
"Maybe," you respond, crossing your arms over your chest to hug yourself a little tighter— the cold a little more palpable against your skin. "Or it's just always going to be a little too much."
Silence stretches for a few moments until Matthew shrugs it off. He preens slightly, the feathers on his neck rustling. Beady eyes fix kindly upon your face. "Just forget about him tonight, ma'am. He'll slink back in the morning."
"Yeah," you sigh— before tilting your head and fixing him with a curious look. "Do you want to stay? Watch some shitty cable TV?"
The bird dips his head again. “I’d fucking love to.”
A warm hub fills the cafe.
Cup of coffee clutched in hand, you take a tentative sip before glancing out the window. It's a cloudy day. Thankfully, inside the small shop is warm. Across the way, Matthew sits calmly on the top of a bicycle rack. Breaking off a piece of pcrust from the pastry you’re currently between eating, you wrap it into the blue napkin to give to him later.
That's when a draught brushes across the back of your next.
Pausing chewing, you still abruptly— shoulders tensing in agitation. You know that he's here before you even see him. Can feel the weight of his reluctant eyes, and how the space between you grows smaller as he navigates through the cramped interior.
Graceful, despite everything.
The chair across from yours scrapes out, and Morpheus sits. For a moment, there's nothing but silence. You let it linger, wanting him to be uncomfortable, and focus on tearing your croissant into tiny pieces with your fingers.
Eventually, he speaks. "Finish your meal. We've got work to do."
His tone is brisk. Dismissive. It raises your hackles, indignation bubbling heatedly in the back of your throat.
"Really? That's all you have to say?" Your voice snaps through the air— not loud enough to draw the attention of those around, but enough for him to flinch.
He doesn't respond. Jaw setting, you glare at him. Morpheus returns the frigid stare with burning blue eyes. And then, his eyes flutter closed. One hand raises, thumb and index fingers pinching the bridge. "It was a mistake."
"Which? The running out, or—"
"Participating in the first place."
Maybe your hurt doesn't fully show. You hope it doesn't. Don't want to give him any form of satisfaction, or to see how much those words hurt you.
Squaring your shoulders, you just shrug. "Well, at least get yourself a snack while we're here." Unable to just leave it there, you have to add another pointed remark. "After all, you only ate once last night."
His expression grows thunderous, but you can see how he fights it— the struggle as his hands wind together on his lap. "It was enough."
All that you do is lean back, brow raising, as you fix him with a knowing look. "We both know it left you wanting more."
He averts his gaze. Those lips purse into a thin, annoyed line. But it doesn’t matter— his silence speaks volumes more than words ever could.
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A/N: And that’s that! I have titled this was  because I might do a second (and likely then a third part bc this wouldn’t wrap up in just two) if there’s interest to see more. So, let me know. I’m still on a bit of a hiatus but I’ll keep it in mind 😉
*I DO NOT KEEP TAGLISTS.*
MASTERLIST || NOTIFICATIONS
Dream of the Endless x Musician!Reader
Summary: Ever since the Apollo incident, you haven't gotten a good night's sleep. It was not because of the anxiousness that came after that horrible encounter, it was by design. After all, you would not have to fall on your knees and beg to the King of Dreams again if you do not enter his domain. Boy, did that backfire.
Word Count: 5k+
Warnings: BRUH I WROTE 5k SMUT AGAIN BYE, no feminism in sight, themes of polytheism, fem!reader, egyptian goddess insert, possessive!dream, smut (dom!dream to soft!dream, hair pulling, begging, thigh riding ig, vaginal penetration, cock warming), typos, etc.
A/N: yeah so today we get on our knees
So this is a continuation to Left In Hell (p1) and Sounds Like Heaven (p2). You do not need to read them to understand, but I highly suggest you read part 2 at least to get the reference of the summary and to understand why dream's so mad HAHAHA
I feel like i've made yn into this mystical, immortal-esque being but i dont actually know whats going on with her so just roll with it. who knows maybe i'll keep writing for musician!reader
Also @aralezinspace gave me some ideas for this fic. TY LOVEY.
And I'm tagging @rosaren2498 cause i said i would if i continued
"You look horrible," Meret judges.
I dart my tired eyes at her silky black hair and perfectly smooth skin. She crosses her toned arms and not a wrinkle interrupts her face as she knits her brows at me.
"I will always look horrible in comparison to you, my goddess," I retort as I press my hands together and mutter a solemn greeting to her.
She raises her nose, "no. Usually, the mere entrance in my shrine makes you glow," she nears me and places a hand on my cheek, "but you have damaged yourself, as you have clearly been avoiding the master of dreams."
The heat of her gaze makes me gulp.
Meret hums, "why is that, my love?"
"There is a reason why I have been more devoted to you these days," I force a smile on my tired features.
Meret pulls her hand away and raises a brow, "and here I thought you've finally grown tired of that bacchanal Apollo."
The goddess of rejoicing strides to her throne. I find some clarity at the sight of her swaying hips.
I clear my throat, "you are thinking of his brother, my lady."
Meret sits on her throne and waves a hand. She crosses her legs and her pale blue chiffon skirt slips to the side, revealing her shapely legs, "they are all the same to me." She drops her hands to her armrest and tilts her head, "did you not bring an instrument with you?"
I tent my hands in front of me and push away the face that springs up in my head, "I thought you would enjoy if I recounted the Songs of the Nile for you today instead."
"Oh," she smiles, "well, it has been a while since I have heard its tune."
I bow before her then lift up my voice with the song I had learned ages ago. I sing to her until her dwelling blooms with flowers by her own delight to the worship. My voice echoes in her chamber and time passes gently as I finish my tale.
Once I am done, Meret stands from her throne and applauds me, her entire being left with a glow, as, I find, is my own.
I am in a way revitalized, my eyelids don't feel as heavy, yet there is a lingering fog in my mind.
She praises me in ancient Egyptian, and I curtsy at the words, though I do not understand.
Meret walks over to me and places a joyous kiss on my lips. Once she pulls away, my head spins at her sentiment.
She grabs my face, "another song, my child."
I nod enthusiastically, "as you command, oh goddess."
By the time I finish my 10th song, I meekly decline her pleas to continue with another selection. Her encompassing essence in the snug realm had forced all my tiredness away after all the worship. But it was not because I had gotten reinvigorated now that I wanted to leave. It was because I knew the trickle of time may seem slow here, but that did not mean the same thing to the waking world.
"Will you have your goddess get on her knees for you to sing once more?" Meret offers.
I then me drop to my knees and I shake my hands in defeat, "I would not, oh Meret, I-"
"I understand," she sighs, waving her hands, "you fear the passing of time in your realm," she adds, "time is annoying, is it not?"
I merely nod.
She, who had gone back to the throne, walks back to me and pulls me to my feet, "it is a pity that you are so loyal that man."
I suck in a breath, "Apollo is-"
"But I do not mean the sun child," she presses a finger to my lips, "the Endless you are fleeing from has been whispering for me to release you after I declined his request to enter my domain."
"Dream..." I shiver, "has been calling for me," my shoulders tense.
Meret narrows her eyes, "if my daughter is being harassed by the King of Dreams, then I shall have you stay here with me until he tires."
I grab her hands. She feels me shudder as I say, "no! No!" I even my breathing, "that would not be necessary."
"But it is," she takes rubs her thumbs on my skin, "I am your patron, and I-"
"He is also my patron!" I quip nervously, "and I-" I blink rapidly and force out a smile, "-should not chose to anger him any more than I have already."
Meret's face begins to darken.
"The King of Dreams is why Apollo is stuck still in a void," I nervously chuckle, "I would not have another one of my precious divinities answer to the same fate," I choke on my saliva momentarily, "nor do I want to wake up in a darkness I cannot escape."
Before Meret could speak, I urge her with a shaky voice, "please let me go back home. Please. I beg of you."
She weighs the sincerity of my voice.
"My goddess, please," I drag out desperately.
She huffs, "as you wish."
With a wave of her hand, a portal appears to my side. I give her one last curtsy and step into the vortex.
A shiver runs down my spine when I make it to the cold hallway in front of the door to my apartment. The temperature was not a good sign.
I enter my home and immediately look for my phone and check my phone for the date.
I release a shudder at the sight of the digital calendar, "it's fine." I heave, "it's only been a month." I drop my phone to the coffee table and stretch my back, "I thought it would have been at least two, considering the one aria was so-"
"You have been avoiding me."
I turn behind me and gasp at darkness that suddenly cloaks my room. At the heart of it was Dream's pale and angered face, towering over me as though I was an ant, which would not be so far from how someone like him would see me anyway.
I tear my gaze away from him as he calls my name out in a warning.
I clear my throat, willing the fear out of my system, and point to nowhere in particular, "I had... errands."
I make the mistake of turning back to him and my very soul nearly leaves me.
When I tear away from him again, he stops me. His large hand traps my jaw and turns me back to him. He does not apply force, he does not need to. I do as he wishes as behold the searing heat of his glorious face.
My chew my lower lip as he steps forward and peers down at me with his cold blue eyes, "you will look at me when you are speaking to me and I am speaking to you," he lifts my head up higher that my lips nearly touch his as he leans forward, "am I understood?"
"Good," he breathes out, sending a shiver down my spine.
Dream examines my expression and blinks before he speaks, "these errands of yours, they have forced you to lose sleep?"
"I-" I can't tell him the truth, "I am busy."
He tilts his head, "that does not answer my question."
I find great difficulty in keeping his gaze.
He calls out my name again, and I turn to him and freeze.
"These errands you have to your gods and goddesses," he words carefully, "have they forced you to lose sleep?"
My lack of better judgement gets the better of me, "y-yes."
He hums so gutturally I feel it echo in my thorax. Dream finally releases me then allows a fraction of space between us, "then I will exact a punishment to Meret, who-"
"NO!" I grab his coat and hang my head low in shame, "I-" I stutter and feel goosebumps rise on my skin when his hands find my arms.
I lift my head up to him and heave at the expectant and hard gaze he held.
"I-I... was lying," I mutter so lowly that the sound barely leaves my lips. I knew he heard it though, seeing how his lips pursed.
"The truth is, my lord," I gulp, "I have been avoiding you."
"Yes," he retorts, "as I said moments ago."
Dream prompts me to straighten myself up, and once I do, his hands travel to my sides and pulls me close to him.
As I am sure the sound of my pulse echos in his ears, he leans down and nearly chokes me with the look of his glassy blue eyes, "I wonder why you wasted great efforts in losing sleep, as though there is a realm I could not reach you-" his hands travel up my ribs, "-could not hear my songbird's sweet voice."
A sharp shudder escapes me when he bends down and sucks in a deep breath against my cheek. My hands instinctively dart to his own, and the moment I do so, he grabs my wrists and pulls away. He is disgusted, "you smell like your goddess."
I open my mouth but find no reply.
Dream's eyes dart down, "she even made it a point to stain your lips with her rouge," his eyes slowly dart back up, "or perhaps this was your scheme," he raises his brows.
I dawns upon me that there was most definitely lipstick stains on my lips.
I open my mouth, but speak not a single word when his fingers brush on my lips, "there is something to be done about this," he mutters, "don't you agree?"
I squeak an undiscernible response.
"I have just worn out your ears with my chastising, did I not?" Dream questions, "and your voice tired after repeating your pleas of mercy."
His fingers rake my back, just below my shoulder blades, "and yet," his other hand cups my jaw, "you insult me worse than you did before, in a way that tells me you do not place value to my words."
"My king, I- I-"
He raises his brows.
I cannot continue.
He visibly does not enjoy this.
I whine, feeling tears cloud my eyes, "I-"
"Save your voice," he commands, swiftly drawing away from me, "you will need it when I wear out your entire body with my chastising."
I am sent reeling but his severe words, left as still as a statue.
I watch him as he walks over to my sofa and sits upon it, as though it was his throne. Dream turns to me and my frozen state, "have you any complaints, songbird?"
I choke on my spit and clear my throat.
He awaits my response and feel my palms sweat.
"Do you not think it is fair of me to seek retribution of your spite?"
I shake my head.
"Very good," he speaks plainly.
I fidget with my hands while Dream relaxes against the cushions.
"If your goddess can make her most devoted musician sing, then I expect nothing less for myself," the King of Dreams states with finality.
I release a breath and point a finger, "would you like me to bring out an instrument, my lord?"
He hums, "you are willing to play so suddenly?"
His tone was laced with an accusing knowledge, knowledge of the fact I did not bring any instruments to Meret's shrine, lest I trigger more jealousy out of him.
If I had played his Harp of Dreamlight, then he would hear me and demand audience, as it was his right. But if I had played any other instrument, say the Flute of the Desperation, or my Marimba of the Tides, then he would have still heard and made reason to scorn me over the fact I am not using the precious gift he mended with his bare hands.
I do not make the mistake of noting any of this.
"I am always willing to please my patrons," I curtsy.
He merely blinks, "then play Death's piano," the said piano materializes in front of me, "and sing me her lullaby?"
I turn to the seat in front of the instrument then back to Dream, "you want me to sing Death's Lullaby?"
"I have yet to hear your rendition of it."
I shudder under his gaze then turn to the piano, "as you command, Dream Lord."
I open the fallboard once I sit before the piano. I straighten my back as I close my eyes. I begin to play the chords and the melody of the song, giving myself a moment to recount all the lyrics as I do.
I feel agitation build inside me when I am unable to recount all the words in my head.
"Dream," I mutter, opening my eyes to look at the black and white keys under my fingers.
The hair on my nape rises when he speaks my name out in response.
"I don't think I remember all the words."
"I will not hold it against you if you hum the part you cannot recall."
With the reassurance, I start by humming the lullaby's tune before attempting to sing it. Once I do, I sway my head in beat and find myself finally relaxing even with the Endless' presence.
This does not last as I, not only cease my singing, but also my playing when I feel hands come upon my shoulders. With a shaky grunt, I regain composure and continue my performance, tensing against him before easing myself back to calmness.
"Very good," Dream praises, brushing my hair away before placing a kiss on the side of my neck.
I breathily rasp out the lyrics and forget the rest when he begins to suck and lick my skin.
He does not seem to mind that I only manage to play the tune on the piano while I shakily breathe when I feel him wrap his arms around me.
As far as lullabies go, this one was as short and briefly meets its end. I do not mention it to him however and decide to simply repeat the lullaby over and over again until he asks me to stop.
I press on a few wrong notes when Dream's hands begin to massage my breasts. I am unable to hold back my moan when he does.
He ceases his kisses then hotly whispers, "now play me the Ballad of Nightmares."
Like a true puppet, I quickly transpose and restraighten my back as my fingers climb up and down the keys.
He hums and pulls away from me fully, leaving my head spinning at the loss of his tender touches. I crane my neck up at him and feel my stomach tighten at the sight of his pleased expression.
Before I could reach the section where I would sing, Dream's deep voice causes me to freeze, "I would prefer if you only sang to me this time."
I immediately nod and stand from my seat.
The next moment, the piano is gone and Dream pulls me against him.
I look up at him, open mouthed, and blink rapidly at the sight of his moistened lips. I gulp when he leans closer.
"Well," Dream starts, hands taking my hips, "sing for me."
He begins to push me back, and so I walk backwards as he directs. I gasp when I am pushed on the sofa. I bounce slightly when Dream sits to my side.
I steal a quick look before turning away and closing my eyes. I begin to sing the first verse but choke on my words feel his fingers on my abdomen, tugging my top off.
He raises his brows at me when I turn to him, "you do not require clothes to sing, do you?"
My voice goes silent and my breathing quickens.
Dream's expectant look makes me stutter, "I- no-"
"Then do not stop on my account," he dismisses as he frees me off my top.
I continue the song, goosebumps and all, as Dream brushes his fingers on my collarbones and then works to rid of my bra. I try not to think about how warm and large his hands are when he frees my breasts and massages them. I especially try not to think of how my core throbs when he bends down in front of me and takes my pert nipple into his eager mouth.
My hand darts to his messy hair and my thighs press tightly against each other. I reach the chorus when he wordlessly instructs me to stand before him.
I am severely aware of how his eyes are glued on my chest as make my way between his legs. His hands grab my sensitive lumps before travelling down to pull my bottoms off.
I am proud of myself that I do not even hitch when the cool air hits my bare thighs. I do, however, not fault myself for needing a moment to gulp when he squeezes my thighs and brings a finger up to my soaking heat.
I stop all together when he stands before me and grabs my hands. I feel blood rise up my neck as he towers over me.
The king tilts his head, "did I tell you to stop?"
I shake my head quickly. I continue my song.
He guides my hands onto his shoulders, "you can sing and strip me, can you not?"
I nod eagerly as I continue with the second verse.
He places a quick kiss on the pulse point on my wrist, "very good."
I pull off his trench coat hastily and drop it to the floor. I then take my time brushing my fingers up his toned stomach as I rid him of his shirt. I am glad he does not deny me this pleasure.
When my hands grab onto his waistband, he moves away and grabs the area himself, "eyes on mine, pretty girl," he mutters, making me turn back to his crystal blue eyes.
"I will do this myself," he says undoing the button on his pants, "I do not need you more distracted than you already are."
It was a chore to keep my eyes on him when I could still see him in my peripherals.
When I begin to mess up the chorus, Dream clicks his tongue. My heart is too loud for me to even hear myself properly at this point, if I'm being honest. Once he is as bare as I am, he sits down on the couch and grabs me by the hips, forcing me in front of him.
This time, he pushes my legs apart with his knees and sneaks in between my soft thighs, "you sung so beautifully the words moments ago. I am disappointed you cannot remember them now."
I screw my eyes shut as I try to rejog my memory. It is futile when Dream grabs the back of my thighs and urges me toward him. My hands grab his shoulders as I climb on him.
I release a moan when my wetness lands against his toned thigh. He allows me the courtesy of continuing my lewd desires as I stammer over whatever the fuck I was singing in the first place.
The next moment, he reels me close to him and I hiss when I feel his hardened length rub against me.
His hands grip my sides tightly as he rocks against me, "I did not tell you to stop."
"I did not ask you to beg," his voice falls deeper.
Heaving deeply, I test my voice before continuing with the rest of the song, but I rip my eyes open when and fall silent when Dream stills and blurts, "from the beginning."
I whine, chest inflating and deflating with reluctance.
"You are in no position to decline me," he leans in, pushing his pulsing hard-on against me, making me bite my lips to conceal my whine.
"I will burn traces of your devotion to others," he mutters as he brushes his nose on my neck. Dream feels bitterness rise up his throat as he speaks, "will you dare deny your king of this?"
He pulls my head back by the roots of my hair, causing me to whimper and grip him tightly, "I will not have you agree, only to shirk me and pray tribute to your false gods."
"My lord, I-"
"You are my music maker," he mutters, "you owe your allegiance to whom gifted you your talents," he growls, biting the throbbing pulse on my neck, "I am your master."
His one hand moves to my core, "your maker," this thumb massages my sensitive nub, "who will make you come undone all over me."
"Morpheus, my lord, please!" I whine out.
He chuckles darkly, "you do not even know what you beg for."
"Exact your punishment on me, I swear I will not answer to anyone else's calls but yours."
He finally releases his grip on my hair and places both his hands on my waist, rubbing the surface up and down, "then sing for me," he grips my hips and elicits a whine from me once he sheathes himself in my slickened folds, "while I relieve my frustrations in your heat."
I catch my breath at the feel of the stretch, "Dream, please."
He purrs, hips barely rolling beneath me, "what are you begging for this time?"
"I-" I lean close to his face, "I don't think I can sing everything."
I bite my lips when he stills and looks at me, "then shall I stop?"
I shake my head furiously, causing him to chuckle, causing me to squeak at the feel of him.
"You must not fall mute while you sing," he brushes my hair behind my ear, "or else it would not be singing, would it?"
I whine in a mix of worry and need, "but what if I forget the words," I mutter, grabbing his wrists that were by my sides as I rut against him.
He growls in protest, hands flying off me before he seals me tightly against him, hindering any further movements, "you are too audacious for your own good, girl."
I pant against him heavily.
Dream eyes me darkly, "fine. In the nature of your punishment, for every time you fall silent, you will repeat the ballad from the top and I will not allow you relief until you finish every word."
I whine, "Morpheus-"
"Or," he cuts me of, "you can speak my name with every ounce of adoration in the moments you forget the lyrics."
I nod eagerly to his words.
"Do not be so quick to agree," he mutters, leaning back on the cushion as his hands find my hips again, "I can tell if you speak my name in vain."
"Morpheus," I drawl instinctively as he begins to move underneath me.
"Very good," he croons, leading my hips with his hands, "but that is not the opening words to the song, little one."
And so I draw in a deep breath and rack my brain for the start of the words, lest my Dream maker stop his ministrations.
I begin my singing and Dream rewards me by rocking more eagerly and allowing me to I rock in sync against him. For the most part, I manage my musings clear enough to make out the words and the tune. If it was your first time to hear the song though, I'm sure it would not have made sense to you.
There is a slight hitch in my voice when Dream begins to latch his lips on my collar bones and graze the area. My hands find his nape and my fingers dig into the roots of his hair.
I feel glorious on him, especially with how successful I am with my singing.
I persevere all the way to the chorus, but then that was when Morpheus shifts and flips us over. He pushes my back on the cushioned seat and my head props on the arm chest.
At this point, I struggle with my lyrics and he seems to enjoy it. I end up a sputtering mess and don't have the wits to say anything but his name.
He smiles as I grab his face and whine. He rolls his hips deliciously into my and my legs anchor him in the perfect position.
"Dream, oh, Dream, you feel so good."
His thrusts bring unholy sounds to my mouth.
"I don't remember that part of the song, pretty girl."
Fuck the song, I could care less about a stupid ass-
"Will you continue your tune, or shall I withdraw and use my hands instead of your throbbing-"
"No, please!" I whine and shake my head as I latch my fingers around his neck. "Morpheus, please, please, give me a chance."
"Well, when you say my name so sweetly," he sighs, quickening his actions, "I would hate to see my favorite songbird suffer," he grips my legs tightly, "not when she's submit to me willingly."
I moan out his name while I finally remember the next words to the song. I hit all the wrong notes and even modulate to a different key when he maneuvers me up. My body is trapped in the corner of the couch and he begins to brutally ram into me.
My head falls back and my voice strains as my tongue helplessly hangs out. I gasp for air as he grows relentless.
Oh Morpheus. Morpheus. Morpheus. Morpheus. Morpheus. Morpheus. Morpheus. Morpheus. Morpheus. Morpheus. Morpheus.
That's all that could come out of my lips at this point.
He hums and steals one gasp of his name from my lips. It does not end my holy mantra though.
Dream utters, "I quite like this song."
I do nothing but squirm, especially when one of his hands begin to fiddle with my sopping heat.
The sounds of me are absolutely obscene.
It is music to his ears.
"Do you think your beloved Meret or Apollo would enjoy this song as much as I?" he quips harshly, though his voice is not strained at all.
For once he does not enjoy the fact my only response is his name.
He snaps his hips particularly harshly, "I am asking you a question, my dear."
I dumbly whine as I gain the wits to look at him. My jaw hangs low at the sight of his dark gaze while he absolutely annihilates me.
"If that poses too hard to answer, then I'll ask something simpler," he leans his forehead against me, "who is making you feel this good?"
My legs tighten around him, "you."
"And what is my name, dearest?"
"Morpheus," I whine, "my- my Dream, my king of dreams and nightmares, my-" I squeal, "my king, my love, my -"
He hums and rewards me with a kiss on my jaw though my response is all very messy, "very good." He licks my throat as he thrusts, "and again-"
Dream continues like this, making sport of burning his name on my throat, up until my words are muffled and my breathing escapes me.
All at once, I am wild with pleasure, burning from the core of my very being, as I coil tightly around him, both with my limbs and from within. I can barely make out any coherent sounds as I am blinded by my undoing. I come around him with a noise I'm sure my neighbors are not enjoying.
"Very good, my girl," he praises, "very good for me, indeed," he kisses my neck, "will you allow me a few moments to chase after release?"
I nod furiously and grab his face, "fuck, Morpheus, please, come inside me. Please, please, please."
He only groans in response as he chases his own high.
I cry out when I feel him spasm inside of me. He draws out a prolonged sigh as he thrashes his hips. I'm merely a moaning, boneless, mess as he draws every last grain of delight out of him and into me.
Even though I am helplessly shaking beneath him as his movements heavily persist, I am utterly pleased by the feel of him coming undone in me.
Once he finally slacks, I manage to catch my voice and my breath as my toes curl and my belly rolls.
I attack his neck, eager to mark him the way he surely marked me.
Dream moans and snakes his arms around my torso, pressing me closer against him, if that were possible, "pretty girl, this is your punishment, remember?"
"Wanna make you feel good," I mutter against his skin.
He lifts his head as he groans, raising a brow at me, "I can practically hear the aching of your core. You cannot possibly take me now."
I attempt to kiss him but end up pouting when he dodges me, "I thought you were punishing me, my king."
"You make me out to be so cruel," he croons, brushing his nose against mine, "I did not even hold true to my threats," he ghosts his lips on mine.
He rolls his lips against me and I am unable to mask my sharp whine.
"You've proved it to yourself, girl," he mutters, "you would break against me."
My stomach flutters at the idea, "then break me."
He draws my name out in a warning and feels the shiver that runs down my spine because of it. Dream lifts face to look down on me with disappointment, "you are more insolent than you have proved."
I nibble my lip, "I can be a good girl for you," I release my lip and offer a soft smile, "or a really, really bad girl."
"I wonder how much worse you can become."
"I can show-" I gasp and tighten my arms around him when he begins to move, "no wait, I'm sorry, please don't leave," I press my cheek on his shoulder and quickly beg, "please don't leave."
Dream shifts before he stills, "but is this not uncomfortable for you?"
"I like the way you feel," I admit, "I don't want you to pull away."
I relax when he rearranges me in his arms.
Effortlessly, Dream keeps me cradled in his arms as he rearranges us on the sofa. He is back beneath me and my legs are straddling his.
We both release a sigh of relief.
I lean back on the crook of his neck and begin to work on his hickies.
"Do not test me, girl," he warns so fervently I feel my womb quiver.
I whimper as he wraps his arms around me and moves his head to hinder my actions.
"I'm not testing you, my lord," I complain, taking his face in my hands, opting to kiss his face instead, "I'm worshiping you, adoring you, loving you."
Dream relaxes at the notion, then chuckles. The vibrations of his laugh leave me whining. He leans back and exposes his milky neck to me. I eagerly attack throat as he says, "very good."
𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Thirty
Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?
To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later).
Word Count: ~2.0k
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“Is he usually this broody?” Rose asked as you walked down the sidewalk of a road. You had set out to find Jed Walker, Rose’s little brother, while Rose dream walked. You had tagged along because Morpheus was not the most skilled with his people skills and was bound to either piss Rose off, or greatly upset her. It was bound to happen, you just knew it.
“Broody?” You repeated with a small chuckle. “You’re not far from the truth. Morpheus, shall we say Morpheus is somewhat lacking in his social areas? He may hurt someone’s feelings without even realizing it, or seem blunt or even uncaring… but that’s far form the truth. He doesn’t hurt people on purpose, or at the very least, not without reason.”
“I’m getting the vibe from you that you speak from experience.” Rose said, looking into your face. You glanced at her and gave her a small smile.
“Morpheus has been my shadow for a very long time, we’re had our quarrels.” You responded with a shrug. “It’s not like he’s ever had to live with a human in his palace. He doesn’t entirely understand how we tick, or how we feel. Mortality is an unknown to him, but I’m working on it.”
“With you on him, I’m sure he’ll learn thing or two.” Rose said shortly before her attention was turned to an orange sports car. Then a naked man, an entirely naked man, started beating on the windows.
“Babe, please open the door. Let me in the car, this is not funny anymore. Honey, just open the door.” You opened your mouth to say something to Rose, but couldn’t find any words for a few moments.
“You… have some strange friends.” You spoke, your eyebrow eloquently raised in amusement.
“I’m aware,” Rose huffed as the man continued his beats on the window with his fist.
“Barbie, open the door. It’s not funny anymore.” The mans voice rose. “Let me in the car! Barb!”
Rose shook her head lightly before glancing to the side, her eyes caught sight of someone. Morpheus.
“Ah, I was wondering when he would show up.” You spoke dryly. Morpheus had a habit of lingering in the edges of dreams, as you had experienced in your own. “Quite likes to linger in the background.” You walked your way over to where Morpheus was standing. “Stop looking so grumpy, I’m not appreciating the fellow’s body. It’s not even the first time I’ve seen a naked man.”
Morpheus titled his head to the side as he stared at you, the underlying emotions fluttering in your belly gave him away, no matter how reserved he looked. He did not like the fact that you were near a naked man (that wasn’t him). You raised your eyebrows at him in counter while Rose ventured over to you.
“Jemima dragged me to strip nights at the clubs in London. I’ve seen plenty of naked men.” His face was well controlled but you did pick up the eye twitch. “I don’t give two shits about a naked man, Morpheus, certainly not that one. Looks like a twat.”
“Why is this happened? I thought we were looking for Jed.” She asked, confronting Morpheus.
“We are.” Morpheus answered simply.
“Then why am I in my friends’ dream?”
“Because you are drawing the dreams of others to you.”
“Barbie, please! What’d I do?” You all glanced at the scene.
“Just be careful not to lose yourself in them. Take a moment. Find your path.” Rose looked at you.
“I’m not the dream walker.’ You told her. “We can only help you so much. You’re the one in control right now.”
Rose sighed and liked her lower lip, then she seemed to catch sight of something over Morpheus’s shoulder. You looked to what she was staring at. Rose walked up to a paper stapled to a gate it had a photo of a woman and a young boy. She opened the gate and your world shifted. This happened over and over as Rose walked between dreams. Eventually Rose walked ahead and you chose to hang back.
“Is there something we should be looking for?” You asked, looking around the grasslands you now strode through.
“Look for? Perhaps not.” Morpheus replied. “She will lead us to Jed when she starts understanding how her power works.”
“That’s like giving someone a complex machine but no manuel, and telling them to start working immediately.” You huffed out. Morpheus raised an eyebrow.
“Is she not leading us?” That is not what you meant and he knew it. You didn’t push the conversation further and looked ahead as the scene changed once more, this time taking you to a street. Rose looked at a house. “You know this place?”
Rose brought up the paper in her hand and looked at it, a smile appearing on her face.
“That was our house growing up. Look.” She held out the picture. The house was identical.
“You’ve done it. You’ve found your brothers dream.” Morpheus answered, a slightly impressed look on his face. You were going to have a conversation about his low expectations later…
“We found the dream, but how do we find the boy? What do we do?” You asked, glancing at the house and its light tones. It looked peaceful, nice.
“We find Gault.” Morpheus stated, his eyes taking on a calculated look. Even his emotions went dark on you, like he was cutting out his empotions to complete the task of reigning in his rogue arcana. It was only moments later that a sandstorm kicked up in front of you, much like the one Morpheus used when he teleported. A little boy, dressed in a yellow and red suit appeared in front of you, his hand held out.
“Halt, King of Nightmares, or I’ll send you three to Dreamland.” Rose gaped and took a step forward.
“Jed?” The boy, Jed presumably, was speechless. But only for a few seconds. Then he seemed to gather himself once more.
“I am the Guardian of Sleepers. I am Lord of the Dream Domain. I am the Sandman.” You had to physically bite down on your lip to stop yourself from bursting into a fit of giggles. A barrage of amusement hit you and you then nearly had the mind to kick Morpheus in the shin right there.
“You are the Sandman? Is that what she told you?” Morpheus spoke out. “Where is she? Your master?”
“Morpheus, don’t,” You warned as Jed reached for something at his waist and stepped back. The boy held up a hand.
“Jed, we’re not here to hurt you.” Rose said, stepping forwards. An older woman appeared, placing a hand on Jed’s shoulder. The woman from the picture.
“It’s me you want. Not him.” This was Gault? Gault the Nightmare. One of the three major arcana, was a normal looking woman? No, not normal looking. You could feel a film of magic around her. She was using illusionary magic. This wasn’t her true form.
“Oh my God, Mom?” Rose gasped, wanting to step forward, but being held back by a hand from Morpheus.
“That is not your mother, Rose.” Morpheus warned. Something seemed to click in Jed’s mind and he pulled down his mask.
“Rose? Is that you?” The siblings rushed forwards and hugged.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Rose gasped, reaching up to cup Jed’s cheeks. The little boy beamed and looked back at Gault.
“Mom, it’s Rose. She’s all grown up.” Jed said excitedly.
“I’m sorry, Jed,” Morpheus spoke out before he raised his hand.
“Morpheus, I swear! Don’t—,” You tired to get out before he revealed Gault’s true from. It was too late. The facade of the Walker’s mother faded to reveal a beautiful woman with the galaxy and stars within her skin.
“Mom! What did you do to her!?”
“Jed! Jed, look at me.” Rose called out, holding Jed back from going after Morpheus. “She is not our mom. Our mom is not here, but I am, and I need you to tell me where you are.”
“I’m right here?” Jed responded in confusion.
“No, Jeddy, this is a dream. When you wake up, where will you be? Look, Did you write this?” Rose held up the paper she had been carrying.
“Uncle Barnaby said he’s gonna break every bone in my body.” Jed replied, backing away. “Aunt Clarice won’t be able to stop him.”
While Rose tried to get Jed to tell her where he was, your eyes went to Gault. Gault was crying. Obviously she was doing this for a reason, she wasn’t harming Jed, no, in fact the seemed to want to protect him.
“Oh,” You breathed out, automatically taking a step forwards to see what had upset the arcana so much. Morpheus was sharply yanking you back. “Morpheus!” You hissed at him.
“Come Gault, we must go.” Morpheus said. Your head snapped to his. Did he not intend to follow through with his word to find where Jed was? No, he did stay true to his words. You had found Jed, but no promise had been made regarding his physical body. Gault solemnly walked over.
“No, Morpheus we are not leaving, not now,” You snapped at him, harshly yanking on your wrist. He pulled on it, dragging your body against his while he stared down into your eyes coldly. You glared into his eyes, your irises no doubt blazing silver in anger. You looked back at Rose who glanced at you just as the dream faded and you disappeared. Landing in the throne room, you all but wrenched your arm out of it’s socket putting distance between yourself and Morpheus. “Are you out of your bloody mind!?” You shouted at him. “You just left—“
Morpheus was stepping forward and seizing your chin in hand, jerking your face up. You let out a a small cry and saw his normally silver blue eyes burn in simmering rage.
“Do not think yourself to be in control of my realm and affairs, Y/N Burgess.” He hissed out. It wasn’t his words or his anger that scared you. It was the lack of emotion you were currently feeling from him. Like he didn’t even care that he had just ripped someone’s longtime hope from them. Your lips trembled and you couldn’t decide if it was because you wanted to erupt into a raging noxious storm of animosity or because you felt like bursting into tears. Well, the tears were a given because you felt your eyes burning. He had pushed you too far this time. Feeling overwhelmed and that your lungs were constricting in your chest, you concentrated on transporting yourself to your little safe haven. The garden. You disappeared from Morpheus’s hold in a violent vortex of sand, leaving behind an angry Morpheus.
You landed and stumbled, falling to your knees on the tiled path. Your knees took the brunt of your fall and tears started leaking form your burning eyes. No, don’t let him know how much he had hurt you. Don’t let him see your weakness. You focused on the wall and threw everything you had at it, watching as it rose like an impenetrable fortress. Once sheltered, you let out a shuddering breath before sobbing, feeling silence and nothing for the first time in so long. Loneliness creeped in like it had been waiting at the door for a sliver of a chance to sneak back in the first chance it had. But you’d have loneliness over him. Loneliness over heartbreak. Overhead the skies darkened in storm and you knew it was because of you. Good. The entire realm would feel just how upset you were, would see it. You couldn’t suffer in silence anymore, you wouldn’t.
Your fingernails sunk into the tile below, gouging chunks of stone until you had clawed valleys. Anger filled your veins, then cracks started appearing around you, spreading to the rest of the pathway like disease. The beautiful plants around you started to go limp and die. What was green turned brown then black. Soon the entire garden was dead, not even the statues were spared. They crumbled and aged, breaking apart to barely recognizable chunks of marble. The fountain stopped its gurgling, and grew dark in color, cracking in half. This was no longer an oasis, but a graveyard. You blinked and hot tears soon turned glacier cold. Lifting your eyes from the crackled and broken tile, you stared at the stormy skies and focused on your power one last time. Eyes burning silver as power spun around you in a vortex, you had one last thought: you knew better than to push me, Morpheus. You knew better.
Date Published: 11/25/22
Last Edit: 11/25/22
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George￼: *Posts a super low-quality image to the group chat*
Dream : If I had a dollar for every pixel in this image, I’d have 15 cents
George: If I had a dollar for every ounce of rage I felt in my body after I read this text, I would have enough money to buy a cannon to fire at you
Y/N : Actually I did the math, Dream would have $225, not $0.15.
Dream : Fam I’m right here....
Sapnap: If I had a dollar I would buy a can of soda :)
Y/n: while you’re there could you buy me an apply juice please?
Sapnap: Sorry I only have a dollar
George : Hey I just realized my friend is right, Dream would have $22,500 because it's a dollar for every pixel, not a cent
Sapnap: If I had $22,500 I would buy a can of soda and an apply juice
George : You can buy anything you want with $22,500
Karl: Yeah and they want soda and apply juice
George : Apply juice to what
Quackity: Directly to the forehead
Dream : Great chat everyone
How to ruin a Dream Lord's proposal (and get away with it) (Morpheus x Reader)
Pairing: Morpheus x gender neutral!reader
Summary: Matthew finds out Morpheus plans to propose to you... on your first date. Given what happened to the last poor soul who said no when Dream popped the big question, Matthew and the others are understandably concerned for you. Because there's no way you'd wanna marry a guy you haven't even started dating yet, right?
Warnings: Morpheus is a menace when it comes to relationships (just ask Nada), reader is out of their goddamn mind, what Matthew has seen cannot be unseen (I'm being an idiot but you're safe guys, the only real warning is some suggestive stuff towards the end)
Word count: ~3K
A/n: This fic is kind of a sequel to these headcanons but makes sense on its own. It's also just an excuse for me to have a little fun with these characters, so please don't take it too seriously😅
Thank you @thegreatestsandwich and @layla2-49 for inspiring this crazy idea😘
Now with a sequel! - How to deal with wedding jitters (and make it everyone’s problem):
"Guys, we have a bit of an emergency," Matthew announced, flying into the library and settling on the cluttered table. The conversation between Lucienne and Mervyn halted.
"What happened?" the librarian frowned. "Is something wrong?"
"Yes and no. Depends. Well…"
"Well, get on with it," Mervyn crossed his arms when Matthew couldn't seem to articulate whatever had him so on edge. "Whatever it is, I'm sure Loosh can fix it."
"...yeah, not this one," Matthew said. "The boss is gonna take y/n to Fiddler's Green today and - caw! - he's gonna propose."
"Oh, dear," Lucienne sighed, putting down the book she was holding. Mervyn, on the other hand, shrugged.
"So? Good for him, they've been courting forever."
"No, they haven't," Matthew's voice rose in pitch. "Y/n doesn't even know he's in love with them!"
"Really? 'Cause they seem awfully close to me."
"Yes, but his Lordship has yet to make the full extent of his feelings known," Lucienne explained. She turned to Matthew, giving him a pointed look from behind her glasses. "He's changed considerably these past few years. I don't think y/n will end up being another Nada, but if they refuse, they should at least be warned to do it… gently."
"If? Of course they'll refuse!" Matthew burst out. "Who in their right mind would say yes to that on a first fucking-?"
"Say yes to what?"
Another caw! shot out of Matthew when he realized that shit, you were behind him. Probably having just fallen asleep and dreamed your way to the library, as you often did.
"H-Hi! Um, we were just… wow," he lost his trail of thought as he turned around as saw you. "You sure went to sleep in fancy wear tonight."
Usually, you ended up wearing the same clothes in your dreams as you did when you went to bed - at least since Morpheus had started allowing you to be lucid and visit his palace, rather than constantly drift in and out of random fantastic scenarios. So you'd gotten used to falling asleep in something a bit more street-appropriate than pyjamas. But tonight… yes, your bedtime routine had looked like getting ready for a night out rather than just going to sleep.
You felt a little bashful about it now that you were standing like that in front of Matthew, Lucienne and Mervyn.
"Actually, um… Lord Morpheus invited me to join him in Fiddler's Green tonight. And he was quite… formal about it, so… I don't know, I'm probably getting ahead of myself, but I'm pretty sure it's a date," you finished with a breathy chuckle, still unable to wrap your mind around the foreign idea. To be honest, you'd been a little fuzzy in the head ever since the Lord of Dreams had so gracefully extended the invitation, with a kind of rare eagerness dancing in his eyes that made you weak in the knees.
Your enthusiasm somewhat wavered, though, when you realized everyone was too busy staring at you uncomfortably to actually say something.
"Why are you all looking at me like that?" Self-conscious all of a sudden, you threw a glance downward at yourself. "Is it too much? Is it too little? Shit, it's too little, isn't it? I mean, he's the King of Dreams, I should have dressed for a royal ball or something-"
"No! No, y/n, you…" Lucienne finally spoke. She moved a bit closer to you, her tense expression allowing for a warm smile. "You look gorgeous, dear. We're only a little concerned that… You see, his Lordship can get a little carried away when it comes to such matters. We thought it best to prepare you in case he might be a bit too… forward in his declarations."
"Forward as in…?"
"He's gonna ask you to marry him," Matthew blurted out.
You blinked at him. Slowly.
"... what? How-how do you…? Did he say that?"
"Are you sure?" you insisted.
"Word for word."
Your mind kind of just… took a quick sabbatical.
"I know, it's nuts," Matthew went on over your stunned silence. "I mean, you'd think he'd know better than to pop the big question on the first date, but you know what he's like. We couldn't just let you get blind-sided like that, especially 'cause… well, he doesn't take rejection too well. I mean, I know you have feelings for him and all that, but you still gotta be careful how you break it to him that you're not ready for all that other stuff just yet- Hey, where you going? Y/n?"
He didn't get an answer, because you'd already turned on your heel and were rushing out of the library. Not long after, the door slammed shut behind you.
Lucienne sighed sympathetically. "Poor thing. You could have been a bit more gentle delivering the news, Matthew."
If he still had nails, Matthew would have been biting them nervously. "Guys… you don't think they ran away for good, do you?"
"Don't just stand there, fly after them and get them to come back!" Mervyn snapped. "You think his Lordship is in a foul mood when he gets rejected? Wait till he gets stood up."
And you're the one responsible for it.
The terrifying thought was enough for Matthew to spread his wings and shoot off the table to find you.
Distances were tricky in the Dreaming. It seemed that the more eager you were to reach a certain place, the closer it felt - or was. There wasn't much difference between the two in dreams.
So, it didn't exactly surprise Matthew that when he found you, you were already where you wanted to be. What did make him raise a non-existent eyebrow, though, was the fact that that place was Fiddler's Green.
Aka where Lord Morpheus was currently sprinkling sand on the field, ensuring that even more of the wonderfully-scented flowers bloomed in its wake as he awaited your arrival. While sunlight had been pouring into the library through the high, stained-glass windows, Fiddler's Green was bathed in the silver glow of a starlit sky. The Dream Lord sure wasn't sparing any efforts to set the scene.
Too bad you were about to burst his bubble, judging by the rigid look on your face as you walked up to him.
"Oh, shit," Matthew muttered under his breath as he landed on a nearby tree branch, praying to God that the leaves would be enough to shield him from his boss's sight.
Not that Morpheus was prone to notice, at the moment. All his attention was drawn to you, a hint of pleasant surprise at the corner of his lips.
"Y/n. I wasn't expecting you so early-"
"I know why you asked me to come here," you cut him off curtly.
Matthew could practically hear the sound of a scratching record as Morpheus's expression turned rigid.
"Do you now?"
"Yeah. Matthew told me."
"And just what exactly did he tell you?"
Matthew gulped at the tick in his boss's jaw. And the icy tone of voice that basically guaranteed he was in deep shit, of course.
"That you're gonna ask me to marry you. Is that true?"
For crying out loud, you sounded like you were interrogating him. As terrified as he was, Matthew braced himself for the possibility that he might have to swoop in and fall on the sword of Dream's wrath himself, should things take a turn for the worse.
It clearly took some effort for Morpheus to contain his rising anger. But, it was thankfully not directed at you, and he managed a carefully contained tone of voice.
"It was not his place to mention that, but yes. It was my intention. It is," he added a bit more softly.
For a moment, you were silent, your eyes dropping to your hands.
"He also said you're batshit crazy for doing it before we've even… you know. Dated," you went on. There was a slight waver in your voice now, probably the reason why you were more quiet than before. "Well, he didn't say it but I could tell he was thinking it."
Welp, Matthew thought. That should get him a one way ticket to the Darkness, alright.
"And, I mean, he's not wrong," you went on, raising your gaze back to Morpheus with a small scoff. "That's so… impulsive and forward and just... inappropriate, if I'm being honest. At least by human standards in this day and age."
Damn. Had you been in a duel like the one Matthew had witnessed between Dream and Lucifer, that would have been the killing blow. Not that Morpheus showed it. It wasn't hurt in his eyes as he fixed you with an unwavering stare - it was simply hard and unreadable, betraying nothing except perhaps a sense of indignation.
"I see," he rasped out. "Then I suppose I should take my leave of you before I cause you any more distress."
That was... sad, but better than what Matthew had been worried about. Morpheus was about to pass you by in long, angry strides when you rushed to stand in his way.
"No, you don't get to just put me in a position like that and leave." His annoyance was palpable, but he reluctantly stopped. "I mean… do you realize what I'm dealing with right now? Because you went and told Matthew before me, I know exactly how you feel on the subject. And now that I do, I have to do this crazy, nerve-wrecking thing that makes me wanna pass out just thinking about it. Because…"
You took a step towards him. Reached for his hand, but changed your mind last minute with a slight shake of your head. Then took a calming breath and looked up into his eyes, which were now watching you with a spark of curiosity that was almost enough to melt the ice, your voice barely above a murmur as a nervous smile kept threatening to tug at your lips.
"... how can I possibly not take this opportunity to be able to say that I, y/n y/l/n, a mere human… asked the Dream of the Endless himself to marry me… and he said yes?"
(Or, in translation from bird speak, what the actual fu-!)
Matthew nearly fell off the branch. The screeching sound had just escaped his throat of its own accord.
At this point, he couldn't even give a feather that you had flinched and were now glaring up at the source of the noise, clearly having found him out.
Morpheus, on the other hand, barely batted an eye. You were the sole object of his attention as he invaded your space in one, painfully slow step. Your eyes were drawn back to his, so close you could practically drown in the endless depths of his blue irises. His voice was deeper than you'd ever heard it, and as cruelly soft as the paws of a cat playing with its prey.
"And you, y/n y/l/n, a 'mere human'," he articulated each word slowly, meticulously, "would dare ask one such as I to wed you…"
The very air held its breath.
"...without a ring?"
If Matthew had a nickel for every time a marriage proposal nearly plot twisted him into a heart attack, he'd have two nickels. Which wasn't much, but it was weird it happened twice. In a row.
As for you - God, you felt like pouncing on Morpheus and melting into a puddle at the same time. You somehow managed to contain all that into a thoughtful little smile.
It was a long shot, but you wouldn't back out now for the world. Slowly, still holding his gaze, you reached inside the pocket of his coat with fingers that, to your surprise, were only lightly trembling. Shit, it might be in another one. Or not there at all. Maybe he planned on conjuring it out of thin air for the effect. It would be so easy to make a fool of yourself now-
You found an object with what felt like corners and edges, and retrieved it from his pocket. It was only then that you looked away from Morpheus, and down at what you were now holding in your hands. Your heart threatened to dive out of your chest and straight into the little black box as you carefully opened it.
The one thing around you more beautiful than the ring inside was Morpheus himself. The jewel was discreet and elegant, a silver band with a small but gorgeous ruby. Apparently, he'd never lost his taste for that particular gem. The light reflected off its facets with an ethereal glow, and you just knew there was some magic tethered to it. A part of Morpheus himself.
What was it doing in your hands again? Oh-
It was far too breathless for the playful quip you intended it to be, but it earned you a cheeky lift in the corner of Morpheus's lips just the same.
"You stole one."
"You let me."
"Well, are you going to use it?" he challenged.
And you weren't one to back down, no matter how furiously your heart was rattling in your chest. But you were more than willing to get down.
On one knee.
"Dream of the Endless, King of-"
He was on you like a lion before your knee even fully touched the ground. You yelped as you fell flat on your back into the soft grass below, his hands seizing your face and his lips coming down upon yours as he pinned you beneath him. His slender figure was hard and deliciously unyielding against yours, thinly veiled hunger fueling his ardent kiss. It was a miracle your fingers somehow remained clenched around the precious ring box while you threw your arms around his neck to pull him closer, dizzy with the taste of his tongue mapping your mouth. Only when he was satisfied he had learned every inch of it as well as he knew his own palace did he release your lips.
"A ruler does not kneel in their own realm," he informed you with a satiated smirk.
He had to call you that, didn't he? As if your breath hadn't completely left you already.
"Not even to my king?" you managed to ask dreamily. Morpheus leaned into your ear.
"Only in the intimacy of our chambers."
You trembled as he gave your earlobe a gentle bite.
"S-so… should I take that as a-"
"Yes," he finally declared, pulling back to look straight into your eyes as he did. "If you'll have me."
You grinned. "That's all I want."
And you were kissing again, through your joyous laughter and that rare smile of his you felt against your lips. There was still the ring in your hand, but you simply couldn't be bothered to figure out who should put it on whose finger at this point. You let it drop as gently as you could manage to the ground, then finally got to tangle your fingers in Morpheus's pitch black hair like you've been dying to for ages. His mouth left yours to draw a sensuous trail down your jaw, kissing his way down to your neck-
…and you remembered you probably weren't alone.
"You can stop spying now, Matthew," you called out to the trees.
In poor Matthew's defence, it wasn't like he wanted to keep watching. The turn of events had just kind of… broken his mind a little, and he needed a bit of time to figure out how to rub his temples without thumbs. He hadn't recovered quite enough to trust his wings to function yet.
Morpheus begrudgingly broke away from your neck enough to raise his voice, "Unless you'd like a preview of the wedding night."
The sound of rustling leaves where Matthew shot past them followed so fast.
Still, your eyes snapped to your now-fiancee in shock.
"Morpheus! What happened to the 'intimacy of our chambers'?"
"He deserved to squirm a little. He messed with my proposal." He pretended to ponder something. "In fact, so did you."
"So? You gonna make me squirm, too?"
"Far worse than that."
Thankfully, Matthew was much too far up to hear the sounds that followed.
"I don't get paid enough for this," he muttered to himself. "I don't get paid at all."
"At least you get to fly away," the disembodied voice of Fiddler's Green grumbled on a breeze.
And fly away Matthew did. Far, far away.
*Cue post-credits scene*
"... and then y/n asked him to marry them!"
Lucienne nearly dropped the book she was holding. Meanwhile, Mervyn slapped his knee in disappointment.
"Ugh, I told you we should have gone with him, Loosh. Now I'll never get to see the look on boss's face."
"It's none of our business, Merv," she said, regaining her composure like the disciplined librarian she was. She stood from the table to put a few books back on the shelf. "I'm just glad their Majesties are finally happy."
"Whoa, there, easy on the titles. We don't even know if he said yes." Mervyn chuckled. "Ha! Never thought I'd say that."
"Oh, he did. Much more enthusiastically than I ever wanted to see," Matthew informed him, fighting the urge to gag. "I'm never spying on either of them again."
Sensible as ever, Lucienne insisted, "Like I said - none of our business. Now, I suggest we all go back to work. It seems we'll be busy with wedding preparations on top of our usual duties soon enough."
With that, she scooped another couple of books from the table and disappeared with them behind the shelves.
The silence only lasted a few seconds before Mervyn broke it in a hushed tone.
"So… who ended up wearing the ring?"
Matthew scoffed as quietly. "I doubt they're wearing anything right now."
"None. Of our. Business!"
A/n: Thank you for reading! Again, this was meant to be sort of a crackfic so don't be too hard on me pls😅 If you enjoyed please leave a comment or reblog, those are the love of my life (after Morpheus ofc)
Sequel - How to deal with wedding jitters (and make it everyone’s problem):
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𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕.
pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader
a cursed mortal, a lonesome Dream Lord, and a story spanning one thousand years.
content warnings: angst, slowburn/slowbuild, mutual pining, dream being dream.
⏳ playlist | corinthian & wanderer playlist | pinterest board | inspo tag & asks | ao3 |
🌙 CHAPTER INDEX
YEAR 1021 I
YEAR 1021 II
➥ BONUS CONTENT:
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ONE SHOTS:
inside of you, in spite of you ⋅⋆ ── [the corinthian-centric one shot, coming soon]
midas touch ⋅⋆ ── [dream & wanderer smut, coming soon]
dreamfalling into nightmares ⋅⋆ ── [corinthian & wanderer, dreamfall]
"I wonder what I look like in your eyes."
"I broke my rules for you."
“My heart is so full of you I can hardly call it my own.”
“You were worth the wait.”
"If I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop."
“I don’t think you understand the… effect you have on me.”
when wanderer met destruction
s t a y.
currently accepting headcanon/drabble requests and discussions for this series, feel free to send something in!
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