#morpheus drabble
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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬
requested by @simpforbuckyb
A/N: asdfghjkl one of my favourite tropes with one of my favourite boys, what an excellent way to kick off kinktober! thank you so much for the request my lovely, I really hope you like it <33
You feel the tremble radiate through Mopheus' body as you slowly sink yourself down onto his cock. He throws his head back onto the mattress, his eyes squeezing shut. His whole body tenses, the muscles of his stomach flexing as he fights to control himself. His fingers dig painfully into your hips as he struggles to contain himself, almost overwhelmed by how good it felt to have your warm, wet pussy wrapped around him.
It was a feeling so new to him and yet somehow so familiar, as if this is where he belonged. As if he was always meant to be buried inside you like this. As if he was made for it.
Or perhaps you were made for him, considering just how perfectly your tight cunt fit around him.
“You alright, my love?” You ask gently, careful to keep your hips still for the moment.
Morpheus takes a deep shuddering breath to steady himself before answering. His eyes open half way to greet your gaze with a sultry, already fucked-out look upon his face.
“You just feel so incredible,” he whispers raggedly.
You smile at him softly as you slowly begin to start rolling your hips, rocking back and forth on his cock. He groans, deep his chest and yet high in pitch. His hands move with your hips as he lets you set the pace; slow and steady, careful to overwhelm him too quickly.
You take your time with him, not rushing to build up speed or momentum, just letting the both of you revel in the feeling of finally being connected in this way. Morpheus pants and writhes beneath you, his back arching slightly, bucking his hips up to meet yours as you grind down on him. As you steadily increase your speed his moans increase in frequency, rise slightly in pitch, his fingers gripping you tighter and tighter as he builds towards his climax.
You can tell he’s close, just seconds from releasing inside you when he suddenly sits up, stilling your movements. His one hand snakes up your back, his palm flat between your shoulder blades, pushing you into him. His other hand moves to cup your nape, tilting your head back slightly. He swiftly buries his face into your neck, his lips burning feverishly against your skin. You run a hand up his back, sliding up his neck to land in his hair, cupping the back of his head gently.
“Morpheus, what is it?” You ask gently, even as a soft moan escapes you when his lips pepper searing kisses across your throat.
“I want to make you feel good too,” he breathes hotly against your neck. “Tell me... what... makes... you... feel good,” he demands between kisses.
You loose a soft moan at the whine in his voice, the sheer desperation he had to make you feel as good as possible even during his first time; it made your heart swell and your pussy clench. Even so, you shake your head lightly and stroke his face with your hand.
“I’ll show you exactly how to pleasure me afterwards,” you promise him gently. “But right now, my love, this is just about you...”
Main Masterlist // Kinktober 2022 Masterlist
#stranger nightmare#kinktober 2022#your strangest nightmare#morpheus#morpheus smut#morpheus imagine#dream of the endless#dream of the endless smut#the sandman#the sandman smut#morpheus x reader#morpheus x you#the sandman x reader#the sandman x you#morpheus drabble#the sandman drabble
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Pampering the King to sleep | Sandman Drabble
It had been such a long day for Morpheus, you had noticed this as soon as he walked into the room and practically collapsed on the bed.
“Come here my love, place your head on my lap” you instructed him and out of his own exhaustion he complied
“I don’t see the need of this” he said reluctantly even as he laid on your lap, you quickly shushed him as you ran your fingers softly through his silky hair, massaging his scalp earning a deep sigh from the king, as he fully surrendered to your touch.
You hummed a lullaby as you continued your ministrations, tracing the side of his face softly even as you realized your husband was already fast asleep in your lap.
You smiled to yourself as you kissed his temple.
“May you have the sweetest dreams, my love”
#sandman imagine#sandman shitpost#morpheus sandman#sandman headcanons#sandman dream#morpheus drabble#morpheus x you#morpheus headcanons#morpheus x reader#dream x reader#morpheus#lord morpheus
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Damned Eternity
Morpheus x Reader
A/N: I hope this one is not too self indulgent so y’all can enjoy it. Basically it’s just two socially awkward beans who haven’t seen each other in over a century. My initial notes to this idea were "two emos in love".
Summary: Cursed with immortality by an unknown power you find yourself fleeing into the dreaming to cope with having to live in a world that gets worse with every century. Until the last reason that makes your life bearable gets taken away too.
(Takes place after Episode 6 when Death convinces Dream to reach out to his friends)
The sun stood high on the firmament while a still chilly breeze drifted through the park. Aside from the birds who were already wide awake as they chirped their sweetest melodies the park was quiet. Soon people would start to pour into the park to enjoy another perfect late spring day.
Along the avenue, a line of benches was set next to each other with some space. From the bench in the middle of the park one was able to catch a glimpse of the entire park.
That’s where you sat cross-legged as you stared into the distance. You fixed your hair that poked out from under the hood of your sweatshirt. You sighed as you brushed away a few strands that just wouldn’t stay where they were supposed to, out of your face over and over again until you gave up. You leaned against the cold wood with your back, shutting your eyes tightly for a while so you could immerse into the sounds around you.
Your eyes were still heavy, begging for sleep or at least some kind of rest. Even now as they were closed, you felt them burning. The night hadn’t been kind to you as the several ones before. You had laid awake on your back, staring endlessly up at the ceiling as the night fell and the sun was about to rise again. That’s when you decided to get up and watch the sunrise in the nearby park. There wasn’t much to do for you anyway, so you didn’t mind wasting your time in this park.
You must’ve sat there for a few hours already as the park had slowly started to fill up. Groups of Teenagers had already arrived while families with giddy children that ran around chasing pigeons were only just now turned up. The commotion quickly encased you in its midst, yet no one seemed to take notice of you despite the stark contrast of your all-black outfit to the vibrant colours all around you.
All of a sudden you felt the air around you shift as the wind picked up again and all at once it was wind still again. You could feel a presence behind you, so unusual yet so familiar.
“Dream of the endless.” you exclaimed, never averting your gaze from the fixed point in the distance, "So it is true, you're actually back."
"I am." his husky voice resounded from behind you, erupting goosebumps on the back of your neck. With slow steps, Dream walked around the park bench into your line of view.
“May I?” he asked nodding towards the space next to you, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket.
“Be my guest,” you muttered, and Dream sat next to you, taking in the view you were still fixated on.
“How did you find me?” you asked dryly.
“Death perhaps gave me a hint.” he smirked bashfully, “Without her help, I wouldn’t have had a chance to learn about your whereabouts.”
Silence fell over the two of you. It felt strange to have Dream sitting right next to you after more than a century. A part of you was afraid that he was only part of your imagination, wishful thinking of your overtired mind. You barely dared to look at him in fear his image might vanish if you’d look directly at him.
"I see, you still enjoy the solitude." he interrupted your line of thought.
“What else is left there for me?” you retorted bitterly, “After a few millennia life loses its appeal… especially if the last thing that brought me joy was taken from me too.”
“You stopped dreaming.” he nodded knowingly but without a hint of reproach in his voice.
“I still did for a while... But your absence made it hard to find joy in it anymore. Any time something flitted in the corner of my eye I expected to see you lurking at the edge… but you weren’t there.”
“I’m back now.” The dark timber in his voice resounded deep in your bones. Your eyes met for the first time, and you inspected his features. He looked just like you remembered him all these years ago yet the glint in his eyes seemed to be new.
“I thought it was just another Dream.” you admitted teary-eyed, “Too good to be true.”
“It is not.” he smiled softly back, his hand gently covering yours that rested on your knee, “I am here.”
To feel his warm palm cup your hand banished any of your fears, and your heart ached as it expanded in your chest. An overwhelming sense of happiness filled your chest, a sensation you had missed for too long than you could remember, and you felt the corners of your mouth twitch up into a smile. But your face fell quickly again as the paralyzing guilt in your veins fought back, suffocating the pleasant excitement all at once.
Dream watched the sparkle leave your eyes as quickly as it had appeared, the cold gaze that had greeted him earlier returning. He withdrew his hand, leaving yours cold. He gnawed on his lips as his gaze fell to the ground.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. I still had to deal with some … incommodities.” He mumbled.
“Death told me.” Even your voice had returned to a monotone pitch.
He took a deep breath as he steeled himself for your possible answer to his next question.
“Why haven’t you visited the dreaming again since I returned?” he nervously entwined his fingers, “Do you resent me?”
His sombre remark tugged on your heart.
“Oh, Morpheus.” You whimpered sorrowfully as you couldn’t bare it any longer. You sat up properly, falling around Dream's neck in the next moment. You hugged him tightly as remorse washed over you. Dream was quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you close against his heart. To hear his name from your lips again made his heart flutter in joy.
“Why would I ever have reason to resent you?” you sobbed against his coat. Dream loosened his hug as he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours.
“Then what is it that’s bearing you down then, my little lune?” he rasped.
“It’s just…,” you stammered. You took a deep breath, working up the courage to be truthful to Dream, “If one has the right to resent someone, it’s you.”
Dreams eyes fluttered open at your words. His intense gaze made you feel so small suddenly. You created more space between you, even though your mind yelled at you for the loss of Dreams touch.
“After I heard the news of your imprisonment, I visited Lucienne right away. I had already grown suspicious about why I hadn’t seen you in my day nor night dreams, but I foolishly believed you were busy creating new nightmares.” You explained to him, “When I entered the dreaming, I was appalled to see your kingdom gradually decaying. Lucienne explained to me the dire need for people to remain in the dreaming and not turn their back to our Lord… but after a while, I just couldn’t bear to not see you anymore. Any time I’d fall asleep I woke up feeling even more unrested. Daydreaming didn’t feel right anymore either. My favourite pastime turned sour and soon I couldn’t stand it anymore… So, I’m at fault for destroying the dreaming as well. I abandoned you.”
“You did no harm, Y/N.” Dream took your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly, “No matter how much you would’ve dreamed or not, without a ruler there is no kingdom.”
“I just feel so guilty… that’s why I didn’t dare to enter the dreaming again.” You explained in between sniffs.
“You have no guilt to carry with you in this matter.” He assured you again as he pulled you back into his arms, and gently rubbed your back.
“But I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me the most nonetheless.” You whispered.
“I know.” He hummed, “You need rest now, Y/N. You can dream peacefully again.”
“Is this an invitation?” you asked sheepishly. Dream chuckled and stood up.
“How can I make it any clearer to you?” he mused as he looked down at you with a smirk. He held out his hand towards you, “Come with me.”
Without hesitation, you laid your hand in his, sure that you would never let go of it again.
If you enjoyed this one, let me know if you're interested in another lil fic. I might have another idea...
Tagging (bc I have no idea who wants to read it): @leucoratia @kellatron55 @poetic-fiasco @vbecker10 @xwhiteoleanderx @nobody1390-24
#dream#morpheus#dream x you#dream x y/n#dream x reader#morpheus x y/n#morpheus x you#dream of the endless#the sandman#sandman fic#sandman fanfiction#dream oneshot#dream drabble#morpheus oneshot#morpheus drabble
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#23 for the soft fic prompt meme!
23. Waking Up - Ahhhhhhhh I love writing waking up scenes 💖 Thanks for sending this one in!
Soft Fics Prompt Meme
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It is a rare thing for Dream to be present when a lover wakes from their time spent in his realm.
Nada had run from him when she woke after their first (only) night together. Alianora had never woken from sleep before she passed, and Calliope…
Calliope found his presence too unsettling after a time. She told him the difference between his Dreaming and Waking form were too different, too jarring for her to find comfort in and so she requested he stop being present whenever she awoke. Dream had not thought being denied this intimacy would hurt him so, and yet soon after the request, their relationship had begun to unravel and never recovered.
Dream assumes much will be the same with Hob, eventually. That Hob will one day open his eyes and flinch away from him, his mind unable to reconcile the different facets of him between dreaming and waking.
Today is not that day.
Today, Hob, still asleep, presses himself chest to chest with Dream, nuzzles into his neck and inhales, as if trying to parse the scent of the Endless. Dream does not believe he has a scent here in the Waking, but Hob tells him otherwise. He says Dream smells of ozone and petrichor, of old books and the sea after a storm. It is a relaxing scent, he says, and the immortal uses it as an excuse to insist Dream stay with him until he falls asleep, and be there when he wakes in the morning, even if Dream cannot stay the whole night.
Some nights, Dream does stay the whole night, just to watch Hob go through the different stages of sleep until he dreams. It is a small indulgence, but one he would not trade for anything in the world.
As Hob continues to shift in his sleep, Dream feels the immortal’s mind slowly begin to drift between the Dreaming and the Waking. Dream finds himself holding breath he does not need, bracing himself for the moment when Hob’s consciousness flickers to life, when those warm brown eyes open and recognition slowly but surely dawns across his lover’s face.
Today, like every other day Hob has woken beside Dream, he greets him with the most brilliant smile the Endless has ever seen. Like every other day, it causes a stutter in his chest that Dream can only identify as love, it is love sitting there in the space between their shared breaths.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Hob greets him, before leaning in for a kiss.
“Good morning, beloved,” Dream replies, chasing the remnants of Hob’s dreams on his lips.
As they continue to lay together, their mouths brushing lazily in the morning light of Hob’s flat, Dream thinks if this is the last morning Hob wakes and perceives him like this, it will be enough. It is already more mornings that Calliope had ever allowed him, and it is more than enough.
But then days turn into weeks that then turn into months and before Dream realizes it, five human years have gone by in the blink of an eye. And yet, Hob still craves his presence before he sleeps, and right as he wakes.
“You are a marvel, dear heart,” Dream tells him one morning, running his fingers through Hob’s hair.
“Why’s that?” Hob asks, a pleased hum escaping his lips as he leans into Dream’s touch.
“Because,” Dream says, kissing his forehead gently, “you love me. All of me.”
“I do,” Hob replies, resolute. “Always.”
#dreamling#dream x hob#hob x morpheus#the sandman#seiya drabbles#seiya writes#thanks for the request! <3#seiya writes dreamling
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—???—
#I did an edit a drabble and now a shit post#the trinity is complete#The Sandman#Lord Morpheus#Dream of the Endless#Dream#Morpheus#Dreamling#buns.hc#buns.all
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this is one half of a bigger picture - can you guess who's on the other side? :3
#actually drawn for my fic#but he's nice on his own as well#dream of the endless#own art#morpheus#the sandman fanart#1889 drabble#teejaystumbles
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Hob : *casually says something funny*
Morpheus, who is there to support his journalist bf : *cackling hyena laughter from across the room*
Co-workers : (;*^*) Okay, first of all : why is he there? Second of all : Wtf is that? And lastly : Are you sure he's not secretly ten ravens in a waist-coat?
Hob : One : he's my boyfriend. Two : that's the sound of his joy and happiness. Three : that's my boyfriend. Lastly : hope you like screams at 3:00 am *ominous grin*
got inspired by how insane my laugh is everytime I hear it
#dreamling#dream of the endless#the sandman#hob gadling#journalist! hob x mad doctor! dream au#morpheus#love in the lab au drabble/shitpost#we love hob the proud bf
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Cold Hands, Warm Nights || Michael Myers ||
A/n: A tiny little thing for my friend @mask-knife-is-morpheus-love I wrote while at work / on the way home.
Reader is short, I’m talking around lie 5-5’3
Prompts Used:
apple picking.
“your hands are cold.”
“come on under the covers with me.”
It was supposed to be a fun day apple picking, however Michael never expected for it to be so cold. He could deal with it, it was you that he was worried about.
Since leaving Haddonfield and literally leaving stumbling into you the man had found himself grown attached to you. Your sunny smile, how you always seemed to see the best in people. He could not understand. Why did you care about him? Why did you love him? Those questions seemed to swirl in his mind, he seemed to become possessive of you and he knew he would not hesitate to kill anyone that put you in harms way.
“I think we have enough apples, think we have enough?”
Your voice rang through the apple orchard, you were wearing one of his flannel along with a pair of leggings. You were half the size he was but that is what made him love you. His little rabbit, while he was wearing his own flannel shirt. Michael was still trying to get used to being maskless, the large scar across his eye made him wish he had something though you were always their to tell him how handsome he was.
Realizing he had yet to give you an answer the man let out a grunt then picked up the apples. His fingers brushing a stand of hair away then lifted you in his other arm, a laugh escaping your lips. “You don’t always have to do this you know.”
He knew he didn’t have to but it wasn’t about to stop him.
••+••
Biting back a yawn, you snuggled into the blankets as you looked up at Michael as he sat down next to you. His large hand grasping yours though a gasp left your lips. Your eyes going wide from how cold his hands were.
“Michael! Your hands are cold.” Frowning you did your best to warm his hands, your lips pressing small kisses to his calloused palm. Your brows furrowing for a moment. “come on under the covers with me.”
Letting out a grunt the man did his best to not roll his eyes. You always worried about him, that was another reason why he cared about you. Closing his eyes he slouched on the couch moving under the covers. His arm weaving around your hips as you were practically in his lap.
A small smile formed on your lips as you close your eyes snuggling into his large chest as he held you in place. Michael knew he was a monster in many peoples eyes but with you he knew he was loved, with you he finally belonged.
#drabbles#drabble#michael myers#michael myers x reader#michael myers x y/n#michael myers x you#slasher#slashers#slasher x s/o#slasher x you#slasher x y/n#slasher x reader#Halloween#halloween x reader#Halloween x you#Halloween x y/n#mask knife is morpheus love#@mask knife is morpheus love
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Today I bring you… *drumroll*
Edit: I forgot to tag the lovely artist that inspired me write these. @levionok, ask and you shall receive!
Teacher!Hob headcanons (mixed with an aftertaste of dreamling because I’m mentally ill about them)! Plus a bonus, mildly NSFWish, bit because, as much as I insist on writing sexy shit about them, I’m shy in front of an audience
Teacher Hob headcanons
Hob drives a motorcycle to university. it’s very important to me, ok? (picture him in a well worn leather jacket, distressed blue jeans and taking his helmet off/putting it on 😭💦🥴)
Hob’s outfit game slides from the most “cleans-up-nicely”, contemporary style, to the “just woke up with a migraine this morning after pulling 3 all nighters grading essays” half-made bun and T-shirt. His students can tell at what point of the school period they are depending on Mr Gadling’s looks alone.
Some of Hob’s literature students have taken to playing a game consisting of making him rant about William Shakespeare. He’s become scarily good at keeping his thoughts about the playwright to himself through the ages, and he can manage entire classes teaching his works without issue (maybe Will is still important or whatever). Still, once every blue moon, a student is able to get him riled up enough to trigger one of his signature “Shakespeare’s overrated” monologues. They have kind of a formula figured out: Bring up the topic of the bard’s possible inspirations, or the possible muse for Sonnet 130 and you’re pretty much a winner. He gets… passionate about it, to say the least.
Hob writes short quotes on the board at the beginning of his classes, hinting at the topic of the day. He makes his students try to guess it. He can be quite creative, which makes guessing more difficult. So, if they get it in the first three tries, he let’s them leave a bit earlier. As a treat.
He’s a MASTER storyteller. It’s one of the reasons why his lessons are so in demand and almost always full. His intonation, rhythm and body language are captivating. Sometimes, he’ll wear full-on costumes (with props and everything, the sweet man) to make his lessons more entertaining and interactive. Mr Gadling may be a little exotic, but that’s part of why he’s so popular at uni. (Something something, Dream’s rather private, but the pride that swells in his chest at Hob’s narrative abilities is undeniable).
Hob showed his students an antique fire weapon once (it was one of his, from the 17th century) and proceeded to baffle them after. demonstrating how to safely dismantle it, quickly put back it together, charge it and shoot it in record time. Like he’d been there when they first were made… Hey, Mr Gadling certainly has a variety of interests, huh?
So many faculty members have a crush on Mr Robert Gadling. He’s damn handsome and his easy smile melts even the coldest of hearts. He never seems to return anyone’s romantic sentiments, though. He insists there’s someone in his life already, but no one’s ever seen them?? And Hob won’t even tell their a name??? (He’s still a bit possessive about Dream’s name. It took him 600 years to get it, for god’s sake).
Cue the entire university slowly getting invested in Mr Gadling’s love life.
Bonus NSFW!
Dream enjoys visiting Hob at the uni. Sometimes, he’ll materialise in lecture halls, wait for him at the door, at the halls, at his office… Hob’s prudence is constantly hanging by a thread because Dream has taken a liking to showing up with nothing but his pitch black robe on and getting Hob to push him against the wall and maybe fuck him on his desk, if they have time.
#dreamling#the sandman#sandman#dreamgadling#dream x morpheus#dream x hob#hob x morpheus#hob x dream#dream of the endless#dream#dream the sandman#hob gadling#morpheus#dreamling headcanons#headcanons#the sandman headcanons#sandman headcanons#these are more like a ultra-short drabbles because i couldnt stop writing what the hell#i thought they'd be harder to write so imagine my surprise when the ideas wouldn't stop coming#anyway my thirst is really starting to show so imma stop there
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Lady of Tales
“And you remained here... all this time?” The Lord of Dreams slowly approached the guest in his realm.
“As soon as I heard and found the state of the place” The Lady of Tales responded.
“Why? This realm is not your own.”
“I am well aware of that Lord. I do not have a realm at all. I am no queen or ruler of any type. However, I will remind you, sir, that your realm is where many tales either begin or find their home. I refused to sit idly by and not lend a hand where I could.”
Dream of the Endless glanced around Lucienne’s library. While most of the Dreaming was in ruin when he returned, the library was nearly perfectly preserved. Aside from the occasional cobweb, cracked window and broken tile, not a story was out of place.
The wandering woman grazed a hand along the shelf closest to her. “Lucienne knew more of this realm than I did. She knew best how to keep things throughout the realm while I saw to her beloved library.”
“I am certain that your fondness for it helped matters” Morpheus said, remembering the being across from him’s favorite place from her many visits prior to his imprisonment.
She chuckled, a light and free type of sound that the King of Dreams and Nightmares vaguely remembered with the smallest hidden beginnings of a smile. It was nice to know that not all things changed in the course of a century.
“It is a relief to know that the king has returned to his kingdom. There is much work to be done, I know. But the worst the Dreaming has seen is hopefully behind it. I do not wish there to be any more trouble here.”
“That journey starts with the reclaiming of my tools... If I am to fix things here, I will need them.”
“You could always take me with you” she suggested.
“No.”
The Master of Stories however had already opened one of the books from her centuries old backpack, one she had made for herself since the beginning of humanity. A place to keep her things as she traveled, collecting and preserving the stories of humans.
The journal was old, not nearly as old as any of the tools Morpheus needed to seek out, but it was an impressive old thing. The pages that held words, featured the names of various places in beautiful calligraphy, the ink shimmering slightly. The woman procured a pen from one of the old holsters on the side of her bag. She quickly wrote a word and smiled at the King of Dreams.
“And when has an utterance of that word ever stopped me?” She did not wait for the Endless to answer, instead sending him a smile and wink. “Give Lucienne my goodbyes and my best. I’ll being seeing you soon.”
The journal closed and she was gone in the blink of an eye.
Morpheus sighed, what would come would. He’d see her again on his journey, that was certain. There were other matters to attend to at the moment.
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Series Masterlist
#master of stories#courier of fables#lady of tales#dream of the endless x reader#dream x reader#morpheus x reader#the sandman x reader#dream of the endless x oc#dream x oc#morpheus x oc#the sandman x oc#the sandman oc#the sandman#x reader drabble#oc drabble#drabble
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Day 4 - “This is why we can’t have nice things” | Day 1 - Barfight
[AO3]
Also Day 1 [Barfight] for Dreamling Week!
Dream materialises near The New Inn, walking inside the door and ― dodging a glass that gets thrown his way? Blinking as the glass thuds on the floor, he looks up to see two fighting men, and there’s a vague sound of this is why we can’t have nice things from another patron, and then―
“ENOUGH!” A loud voice, Hob’s voice, he realises as Hob appears to take one of the men by the scruff of his neck, and Hob sighs, “sorry for the commotion everyone, a round of drinks on me,” he offers to the sudden silence, and there’s a round of cheering and hollering.
Dream watches as Hob gestures to the bartender, who takes the other men, and Dream moves to the side as they’re thrown out of the Inn, Hob giving him a bright smile as he passes.
“My friend,” Hob grins, touching his arm and Dream looks down at it, “sorry about the housekeeping. Let’s go upstairs, more quiet up there, I think,” Hob nods to himself, the hand moving to grab his wrist, and Dream only follows along behind Hob, thinking of the callused fingers he can feel, how warm and searing they feel to his skin.
“Does that happen often?” He asks as they walk upstairs, and Hob laughs.
“It happens often for as long as bars have existed. Had my own countless barfights through the centuries,” Hob says wistfully, and Dream shivers as the back of his hand is pulled to Hob’s chest, a thumb pressing into the muscles and veins there, coming into existence at Hob’s touch.
“Do you miss it?” Hob hums, and Dream’s mouth dries as Hob’s other hand comes up to his cheek.
“Well, the trick is, old stranger,” Hob whispers, the searing heat of Hob’s body pressing against him, and the apartment door clicks shut, cold behind him compared to the man in front of him, to the way a leg slots in between his, pressure against his suddenly hard cock.
“The trick?” He repeats, voice low, and Hob’s eyes darken, their lips brushing.
“To find other things to burn off anger ― an illegal fight club, as an example,” Hob’s eyebrows raise as he smiles, eyes glittering, “really good sex, for another,” Dream swallows and lets out a whimper as his hand, still trapped between them, is brought up to Hob’s mouth, mind fizzling as his pointer finger is taken into the heat of Hob’s mouth, tongue and teeth brushing against it. “The kind of sex that that would make even you scream, for example.”
Dream heaves for breath, head thunking against the door, Hob’s expression wicked, “f―fascinating.”
#dc#the sandman#dreamling#dreamling fanfic#dreamling smune#smune 2023#dreamlingweek#dreamling week 2023#hob x dream#hob x morpheus#dream x hob#writing#not sfw#realised i could also make my drabbles dl week flavoured and so#is hob teasing? is he not? who can say
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wasteland, baby! ; morpheus.
track fourteen of WASTELAND, BABY!
pairing ; morpheus x bast!reader (gender neutral pronouns)
synopsis ; morpheus followed you as if he were your shadow—silent, yet ever so loyal.
words ; 6.3k
themes ; angst, fluff, egyptian mythology, bast au
warnings / includes ; reader is based on the egyptian goddess bastet, starts before the events of the show but ends right at the beginning, heavy angst, death of an unborn baby (not reader's), blood/injury/pregnancy (again, not reader), allusions to sex, mentions of the other sandman characters, mentions of other egyptian gods, khonshu is your half-brother, dream is the epitome of (-_-), they love each other lots <3 perhaps i'll write a part two to this !!
main masterlist.
She was dying.
There was raw terror within her eyes—uncertain of what was happening to her. She was young—far too young to die, but it seemed that Destiny had other plans for her beyond life.
With gentle movements, you shifted into view, greeting her with a soft beam and kind eyes.
“Do not be afraid. I’ll protect you,” you whispered in their plucking human language. One of your hands extended towards hers, slick with her own blood. “It’s time, darling.”
The faded blue of her eyes warbled. A hot tear meandered down her grimy cheek.
“Can I say goodbye? I… my children…” The words caught in her throat upon seeing your apologetic expression. With a resolute nod, she took your hand, and you helped her spirit onto her feet.
Once she was up, she glanced at her physical body on the ground. “Can you keep my children away from the body? I don’t… I don’t want them to see me like that.”
A protest was on the tip of your tongue, but upon seeing her pleading expression, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. Your expression faltered, softening. “I’ll do what I can,” you reassured her, offering a small smile.
And as you guided the petrified woman’s spirit across the threshold between the realm of the living and the Sunless Lands, you let go of her hand, and she began walking into the next part of her journey. You observed for a minute longer, brow creased with worry. That had always been a weakness of yours—you cared too much for the mortals and often found yourself attached. Though, perhaps, affection was not a weakness, but a defining trait of who you were. It was what made you their protector, after all.
The feeling of an unfamiliar presence appearing beside you jarred you out of your thoughts. You turned to see one of Death’s siblings staring straight at you, eyes boring into your very soul.
“What are you doing?” he asked, rather bluntly. His voice was deep and honeyed, soaked in sea water and nestled within the richest of soils. You found yourself blanching at his sudden question, unsure if you’d done something to offend him. He certainly looked offended. Or perhaps that was just the way he always was. “This is Death’s job,” said Dream.
After a considerably long pause, you tilted your head at him. “Death is busy at the moment. I am merely helping her guide souls into the afterlife. I’m a God to them—a protector—the humans, they call me Bast. But my friends call me Y/N.”
Morpheus’ expression remained ever unchanging. He dipped his head, suddenly all the closer to you. You blinked at him with wide eyes—eyes that Morpheus refused to meet. Stoic, he spoke once more, “Do you know where my older sister is?”
“She’s dealing with affairs in Hell. Lucifer has stirred up quite a bit of trouble, I’ve heard,” you told him, pursing your lips at the thought of the devil wreaking havoc in the underworld. “What do you need her for? Perhaps I could help—?”
With naught a sound, Dream brandished a pouch from his dark, draping coat, and disappeared in a flurry of sand and dust. You stepped away with a grimace, waving the particulates away from your face.
“Rude,” you huffed as you brushed sand off your shoulder.
She was hurt.
There was a long, jagged gash splitting her shin open. A pool of dark ichor formed around her leg and soaked into the hardened earth. You stood over her, your chest constricting.
She couldn’t see you, but you knelt down beside her anyways, murmuring a protective incantation, gently running your fingers over her wound. A soft golden glow appeared over the cut, before slowly disappearing. The injury wasn’t completely healed, but you’d made sure it wouldn’t get infected by warding away any diseases and bacteria.
The woman wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and found a cloth to bind the gash shut.
You tilted your head, smiling down at her, before stepping away.
This time, the presence of the Dream Lord wasn’t as much of a shock to you, but still a surprise nonetheless.
“Dream,” you greeted, eyes brightening when you turned to see him. He looked just the same, though not nearly as sour as last time. “What brings you here?”
“The girl you were helping,” he said, slow and cautious, “she’s been dreaming of you.”
Warmth seeped through your form at his words. A grin etched itself beautifully across your lips. “I’ve been watching over her since she was a young child. Her name is Nubia—gold in their language. She saved a family of kittens from drowning in a river when she was merely nine years of age. And me being a God of cats and all—she’s earned herself a special place in my heart. I don’t often show myself to mortals, but I have with her, on occasion.”
Morpheus regarded you with a shielded expression, but it was evident that he was curious in you and your endeavors.
“What do I do in her dreams?” you asked, stepping closer to him. Morpheus seemed unbothered by this, slowly tilting his head to sweep his gaze anywhere but you.
Perhaps it was a trick of the hot Egyptian sunlight, but you could’ve sworn the beginnings of a smile traced over the corner of Morpheus’ mouth. “You do the very same in her dreams as you do in the living world. You help people. You are kind to them.”
Stunned, you let your eyes travel back to the sweet girl you’ve grown so fond of, who was rinsing the blood away from her leg.
“Why?” asked the Dream Lord. It was a tentative question, so simple yet would never have a clear answer.
You glanced back to him, finding his piercing blue irises fixed on you, hardened and stormy as the sea.
“Why what?” you replied, knowing full and well what he was asking, but wanting to goad him on. You rather enjoyed speaking to him. He was a mystery to you—and you loved mysteries.
Dream was silent for a long moment. It had you briefly wondering if he’d just chosen to completely ignore your retaliating question.
Finally, he asked his in return, voice thick and viscous, as if his throat were laced with honey. “Why do you show the mortals such kindness?”
“Because I love them,” you told him simply, an elegant smile gracing your features. “They are beautiful beings, and I wish them nothing but happiness and peace. It brings me joy to be their protector.”
Morpheus didn’t seem too satisfied with your answer, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what you said. How could one as eternal and powerful as you love such simple and fleeting life? Despite his evident turmoil, he remained silent.
“If you’ll excuse me,” you said, brushing past him with a hand on his shoulder. Morpheus stiffened beneath your touch, and you were quick to draw yourself away from him, not wanting to anger one of the Endless. Desire had once gotten angry with you centuries ago, and that hadn’t gone down well. The last thing you wanted was a repeat of such events. “I have other duties to attend to. I hope to see you again, Dream.”
Morpheus dipped his head in farewell. From your peripheral vision, you saw him disappear in another whirl of sand. You shook your head in amusement, before heading off to help another precious soul in need.
She was heartbroken.
There were scalding tears dripping down her sunken cheeks, following the curve of her jaw, and falling from her chin onto her blanket. Sobs wracked her skeletal form, and there was a pallid color to her skin, as if completely drained of energy. You watched from beside her bed, feeling thorns crowd about your heart at the sight. You sensed great despair rolling off of her in large tidal waves, nearly overwhelming you into the same feeling.
Morpheus was there, you knew, but you had yet to speak to him. He’d been following you for a while, silent as the night, merely watching as you went about your day helping women, children, and people alike. It seemed that he’d taken a keen interest in you and your duties as a protector of the mortals.
“This is the doing of a man,” you said to him without turning around, anger clouding your expression. “She professed her love to him and he did nothing but scoff. He scoffed at her, Dream. I mean, look at her—she’s beautiful and she’s kind and she’s so very intelligent. Men certainly are the bane of my existence.”
When you finally turned your head, you were surprised to see Morpheus right beside you, not having registered him stepping closer.
He had his eyes trained on the weeping woman. “She is tired,” he observed calmly.
A soft sigh fell from your lips. “She hasn’t slept a wink in three days. The poor thing has been doing nothing but lament over this buffoon of a man. I’ve tried consoling her in many ways, but her grief is strong. She loved him very much—though I can’t quite understand why.”
“Perhaps,” said Morpheus, pulling out a pouch that you were now well acquainted with, “all she needs is a bit of rest. Three days is far too long for a mortal to go without slumber.”
With that, he blew a fistful of sand into the crying woman’s face, and her raucous sobs began to subside, and eventually slowed down to deep, rhythmic breathing.
You looked to the Dream Lord, a grateful smile to your eyes. “Thank you.” As ever, he stared ahead and nodded, avoiding looking at you.
With fleeting, soft touches, you gently shifted the woman so she wasn’t curled in an awkward position and wouldn’t wake up with aches all over. You laid her back against the bed’s springy mattress and adjusted her head onto the feather pillow. The pads of your thumbs gently wiped her tears away, and you murmured a quiet protective enchantment to keep her safe through the night.
“Come along now,” you told Morpheus, getting up and striding out the door.
He looked at you, finally, mild confusion painting over his features.
“You’ve been following me all day,” you said, a laugh caught in the back of your throat. “I have much to show you.”
There was a twitch to his jaw, as if he wanted to say something. But still, he remained mute, before striding forward to join you by your side.
She was sick.
There was an unusual murmur to her heart, disrupting an otherwise perfect beat. It broke your own to realize that Death would be coming to visit her soon. You could only hope that the journey to the Sunless Lands would be kind to her.
With little else you could do for the beautiful, sickly girl, you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushing a stray, wiry curl of hair away from her face, softened with sleep. Your kiss made her stop twitching and sweating so badly, and you were glad you could lessen her suffering in some way, even if it was minute.
You weren’t at all shocked to see Morpheus behind you when you turned, and you crossed your arms with a teasing grin. It’d been several decades—nearly a century—of constant visits from him, and you weren’t ashamed to say that you’d grown very fond of him.
“Why, if it isn’t Dream of the Endless,” you greeted, taking a step closer to him, so that he was forced to look at you, and no longer avoid eye contact. The blue of his irises seemed even sharper up close. “Is there something you need this time, or are you here to follow me again?”
There was a crack to his stoic facade, a small smile whittling into his expression. A thrill spidered up your spine.
“I’m intrigued by you,” he finally professed, albeit still guarded and wary, even after all this time.
Much to his surprise, you reacted fairly lightly to his statement, throwing your head back as peals of laughter fell from your lips, the corners of your eyes crinkling with mirth. “Dream of the Endless, intrigued in me? It’s truly an honor,” you said, slightly breathless. Morpheus carefully watched the way you beamed so wide it was a wonder your face didn’t split into two.
Dream hesitated for a moment before saying his next words. “Come with me.”
You faltered for a moment. “What? Where?”
“The Dreaming,” he said simply, as if it were obvious.
You blinked at him owlishly. “Your kingdom?”
“Yes,” he said, already drawing out his pouch of sand. “I’ve seen what you do on Earth. Now I want you to see what I do in my realm.”
“They’re beautiful,” you said, watching in awe as Morpheus fashioned dreams and nightmares out of thin air, brow creased ever so slightly in concentration. Bits of earth and bone and something far more ethereal floated around him as he assembled the pieces—creating an entirely new being.
Dipping his head graciously, Morpheus stepped away from his craft, still in progress.
“Come,” he said, without a glance to you. “I shall finish this later. I have much else to show you.”
He took you to see the House of Mystery, also known as Cain’s home. There was a sweet gargoyle there—Gregory, his name was, and he seemed rather fond of you, constantly nipping at your ankles and grunting in delight when you tossed a ball over for him to catch. Morpheus watched from afar, with only but a shadow of a fond smile gracing his face. He took you to the House of Secrets as well, and introduced you to Abel, who was ever so kind and refused to allow you to leave without drinking a fruity, nectarous tea first.
The two of you strolled through the Dreaming for a while after that, discussing everything and anything that came to mind. More accurately, you’d be the one animatedly telling stories and Dream would listen with a fond glint to his gaze. Dreams and nightmares alike stared at the two of you, partially because they’d rarely ever seen their King out and about, much less with somebody, and also because they were merely curious to know who you were.
After, he brought you to the library and introduced you to Lucienne and Mervyn—the former a spectacled librarian and the latter a pumpkin-headed janitor with a cigar wedged within his mouth, who both seemed pleasantly surprised to see Morpheus bring in a guest.
“There will be a celebration in the Dreaming tonight,” said Dream, quiet and contemplative. Then, he looked at you, and this time, you were sure it wasn’t a trick of light—he smiled at you. It was small and fleeting, but you’d caught it nonetheless. “Seeing as Y/N is a God of celebration, joy, fire, and music—have all those ready for our guest, Mervyn.”
“Yessir,” the pumpkin coughed out a plume of smoke, before saluting with two gloved fingers, and strode away with his hands shoved into his overalls.
Once Mervyn left in a hurry, you turned to Morpheus, eyes wide. “Dream, really, you don’t have to throw a party or anything for me, you’ve been more than kind enough—”
“I am merely repaying you for all you’ve done for mankind,” said the Endless, which made you step back just a bit in shock. “I must deal with some private matters—feel free to stay as long as you want—you are now a welcome guest in the Dreaming.”
“I… okay, thanks, Dream,” you said, trying your hardest to contain your excitement.
He nodded, before turning on his heel and marching out of the library.
Shelving the books in her arms, Lucienne interrupted the silence with, “There hasn’t been a celebration in the Dreaming in centuries.”
You blinked. “Really?”
“None at all. In fact, this is the happiest I’ve seen him in quite a long time. You’ve really done a number on him,” said the librarian, regarding you with a curious look.
“This is him happy?” you gasped, feeling bad for laughing slightly. “I wouldn’t want to see him angry, then.”
Lucienne scoffed at the thought. “Oh, I doubt it. He’s taken quite a liking to you.”
Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to reply with a coherent response, but found your tongue void of one. Morpheus liked you? All this time, you were only assuming that he was just tolerating you—interested, perhaps, at the very most.
“Well, I’ll see you at the party, then,” said Lucienne, finding your stunned expression mildly amusing. She sent you a kind smile. “Let me know if you need assistance with anything.”
Not even three hours later, the castle was brilliantly lit with floating candles and dewy bubbles that emitted hazy, multi-hued light. There was upbeat music echoing throughout the expansive chambers, a rich accompaniment of wind instruments and chiming bells and thrumming beats of drums—though none of said instruments were anywhere to be found. Along with that, there was a large variety of snacks and nibbles arranged on a long, intricately designed table, including dates, cheese, and buttery pastries that practically melted in your mouth. Golden chalices overflowing with wines and honeyed ales alike were passed around like a contagious flu. The castle was packed, dreams and nightmares and gods (yes, even some that you recognized—Dionysus drunkenly greeted you with a hug and a slap to the back) were milling here and there chattering excitedly. From what you gathered whilst mingling with everybody else at the party, the entire ordeal was huge—evidently, Morpheus wasn’t quite the partying type. It came as a shock to everybody when they received prompt invitations to the castle.
Speaking of which, you hadn’t seen him at all since the celebration commenced. Which was strange, considering he was the one that set it all up in the first place.
“My, my, my, aren’t you a beauty? Have we not crossed paths just hours before, Lord Bastet?” a nightmare purred into your ear, roping you out of your thoughts. His name was Corinthian, one of the many that Morpheus had introduced to you on your little tour through his realm. You turned around, a flirtatious grin to your lips, hooded eyes flickering over to meet a pair of black shades. You were well aware that Morpheus would most definitely not be pleased with you seducing one of his nightmares, but he wasn’t even here at his own party, so you didn’t quite see a problem. “No wonder the Dream Lord’s gone full out—he’s aiming to win somebody over, ain’t he?”
A hum fell from you, and you stepped forward, cocking your head. “Do you always speak in questions, my sweet Nightmare?”
“Only works if you answer them, doesn't it?” he retorted, a handsome grin to his features. Corinthian was well aware that you were flirting around with him and had no issues with reciprocating the energy, but he also knew that it was all fun and games—nothing serious. Besides, he wasn’t particularly keen on getting in between whatever it is that Morpheus and you had going on.
Rolling your eyes, you huffed, “Speaking of—do you know where he is? Don’t get me wrong, he’s thrown a splendid celebration—and this is coming from the God of celebrations—but I do have to admit that it puts a damper on the mood if the host himself doesn’t make an appearance.”
A laugh rolled off of Corinthian’s tongue. “Why don’t you turn around, darlin’?”
When you did, you were met with the sight of the Dream King, draped in his long coat, hair as scraggly as ever. He was watching the two of you with a sharp gaze, jaw squared. Though he let little slip past his guarded features, you were beginning to read him very well. He wasn’t angry, no—in fact, he was amused, but was furiously trying to hide it. “I’m pleased my presence matters so much to you, Y/N.”
You bit down on your lip to stave away your growing grin. “You’re late to the party.”
“I wanted to allow you space to enjoy it,” he graciously said. “The rest of my subjects would hardly speak to you freely if I was glued by your side.”
“True,” you admitted. “Though, I wouldn’t really mind being stuck to you.”
Morpheus offered no reaction to your words, save for a glimmer of mirth behind the blue of his honed irises.
“Were you waiting for me?” he asked quietly, barely audible over the raucous upswing of the celebration.
Feeling bold tonight, you could only sidle closer to him, the cold golden jewelry of your party attire brushing against the very front lapels of his dark coat. Morpheus’ gaze flitted downward, soaking you in your entirety, before returning back to your face just as quickly. “You threw a party in my name and disappeared without a trace! Of course I was waiting for you, Dream.”
For a moment, Dream had the gall to appear mildly apologetic. He didn’t seem to mind that you were much closer now, watching the way your searching eyes reflected the fires of the floating candles, like burning stars within the vast galaxy. “I am sorry for keeping you waiting, then.”
“Nothing a couple drinks can’t remedy,” you assured him, about to reach out to grasp his hand and pull him to a table of self-refilling refreshments, before hesitating and pulling your hand back.
Whistling loudly, Corinthian suddenly pulled both of your attentions away from each other. If you had to be completely honest, you’d nearly forgotten that he was there. In fact, you’d nearly forgotten there were hundreds of other beings in the room. He was grinning wolfishly, hands propped on his hips. “Well, aren’t you two a swell pair of lovebirds? It was lovely meeting you, eh, Bast? Take care of dear old Dream, will you?”
You waved him away with a grin before he sauntered off into the crowd, disappearing amongst a throng of boisterous dreams.
The party had waned away to a couple of drunken gods (which took about a pond’s worth of fluid to get them to such a state) stumbling about in the halls, and a few straggling nightmares still trying to squeeze out the last remnants of the party. Everybody else had gone back to their respective homes or realms, exhausted and in need of a long rest.
Much to your delight, Morpheus hadn’t left your side once the entire night. He stuck by you as if he were your shadow—silent, yet ever so loyal. However, you found that he’d been right—nearly all of his subjects that had initially been so friendly to you were now intimidated by their creator stonily staring them down. It was worth it, though. You liked Morpheus’ company, even if it was mostly silent and warded people away. Lucienne, however, practically immune to Morpheus’ temperament, spoke to you for a lengthy amount of time about the most interesting books she’s come across in her library, and you made her promise to lend copies to you whenever you returned for your next visit. Morpheus seemed to just barely smile when you mentioned that you were keen on returning to his realm.
You’ve spent far too much time away from the living realm, and you wanted to return back to your duties, you really did—but you were finding it hard to say goodbye to Dream. Especially when he was watching you with such attractive, hooded eyes.
Had his eyes been like that the entire time, or was he just looking at you like that now that the two of you were alone, in front of his bedroom? How in the world did you get up here without realizing?
“What is it like? To have your subjects love you?” asked Morpheus, nearly startling you out of your dazed reverie.
The question was an unexpected one, but you were quick to respond nonetheless. “It is perhaps the best part of serving them. I do not exist without them. I am nothing without them—and for that, I am grateful.”
Morpheus dipped his head, as if in thought.
“The humans have named you a God of many things, because they love you so,” he said. “Is it not tiring to juggle so many conflicting duties at once?”
“It’s not tiring at all. I like a bit of variety in my work. And I love them just as much for it, if not more—after all, I am a God of infatuation,” you replied, lips slanting up at him.
Something changed within his scrutiny. It was minute, but you still noticed it. His jaw relaxed just a bit, and he angled his face to better look at you. Suddenly, your first few meetings where he had completely refused to meet your gaze whatsoever felt so very long ago. Not at all subtly, Morpheus’ stormy eyes glossed down to your lips, which were just slightly parted with want.
Your breath hitched within your throat.
Emboldened, you spoke again, voice an octave lower. “I am also a God of pleasure.” Ever so slowly, you reached out to graze your hand over his. His eyes remained on you, unblinking. When he didn’t jerk away, you threaded your warm fingers through his frigid ones. “Perhaps I can show you?”
There was a stormy grumble to Morpheus’ chest when his arm darted out to snake over your waist, pulling you close. He swallowed your pleased gasp when he sealed his lips over yours, noses bumping against one another amidst your vigor. Finally, finally, your hands reached up to bury within his unruly dark hair, sighing into him. There was a furiously desperate nature behind his touches, and you were nothing if not a match to his intensity. When you softly bit down on the bottom of his lip, a dangerous color melded over his features, and he made a suppressed noise of torment in the back of his throat, before kissing you again—harder this time. You most certainly didn’t mind.
In tandem, you stepped back into his bedroom, and he kicked the door shut behind him. It closed so loudly, the very walls rattled—no doubt the entire castle had heard it. Neither of you seemed to care.
She was screaming.
There was a long litany of crying pleas falling from her lips, hair plastered to her quickly paling skin with sweat. Tears rolled down her plump cheeks as she cradled her swollen stomach, where her unborn child was slowly dying within her.
She was losing her baby.
You were standing beside her, casting as many protective healing enchantments as fast as you possibly could, breathing labored. The very beginnings of panic seized your heart when none of it was enough. You weren’t enough.
“PLEASE!” she screamed her voice raw to any God that would listen to her. “PLEASE, HELP ME! I BEG YOU! I BEG YOU, PLEASE! I can’t lose them, I can’t lose my baby!”
“I’m trying,” you croaked, strained, even though she couldn’t hear or see you. You were trying—but it was too late.
Death appeared in front of the bed, serenely calm, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder.
You only shrugged her off, hurriedly casting more enchantments, more incantations, more protective shielding. You were a God of fertility, a protector of women and children—how could you let this happen?
“Y/N,” your old friend said, not unkindly.
You ignored her.
“Y/N,” she repeated, a touch firmer. “You cannot bring back the dead.”
Another enchantment. Another incantation. Another spell. A scalding tear fell down your cheek. Your hands began to shake.
The child was still dead. The mother’s wails echoed shrill in your head.
“I’m sorry,” you hiccupped, your vision obscured with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”
You didn’t even register when Dream gently pulled you away from the woman, so his sister had some space to properly do her job. Because you had failed at yours.
A sob thundered through you, shaking you to your very core. “I’m sorry,” you cried, turning away from the body. This wasn’t the first time you’d gone through this, but it only seemed to get more and more painful each time.
Morpheus, grim-faced and solemn, brought you closer to him with soft touches, guiding your head to rest into the crook of his neck. You cried against his skin, fistfuls of his coat gathered tightly within your palms. He murmured a short sentence of comfort into your ear, but you didn’t quite catch what he was saying, ears filled with static.
“I’m sorry,” you repeated over and over again. Morpheus tenderly stroked the back of your head, falling silent, and tugged you all the closer to him.
She was asleep.
A man laid naked beside her, his arm thrown loosely over her waist as he snored so loud it was a wonder she didn’t jolt awake.
With a beguiling smile, you looked over your shoulder to Morpheus expectantly. A miniscule glimmer of amusement warbled within his eyes, and with a flick of his fingers, the slumbering man’s arm fell away from the woman, and he turned over with a grumble, falling deeper into a dreamful sleep.
“Thank you,” you told him, affectionately grazing the tip of your nose to his cheek. “You should come along with me more often—it’s fun having an assistant to help me with my duties.”
“I’m only but a call away, my love,” replied the Endless, an unmistakably doting edge to his words.
Your grin grew double its size. Morpheus slowly gestured to the sleeping couple with his head, reminding you of your duties.
“They’ve been trying to conceive for months,” you told him, waving your hand over the woman’s belly. A soft aureate glow touched the ends of your fingers, and fell to her in periodic droplets. “Today’s their lucky day.”
With a final protective casting, you stepped back, satisfied.
“She won’t know she’s pregnant until two or three weeks’ time,” you said, making your way back to him across the room. “I’ll be back by then to make sure she’s doing alright—will you come with me, Morpheus?”
The Endless regarded you with a soft, fond gaze, one that was reserved for you, and only you. He gathered your hands within his.
You arched a brow when he didn’t answer your question. “Morpheus—?”
“Marry me,” he cut you off quietly, voice saturated with feather-silken endearment.
There was a beat of shocked silence, and you had to pause for another two to make sure that he wasn’t jesting with you. Then again, Morpheus was never the kind to jest in the first place.
Then, your expression cracked into one of joy, positively radiant. The moonlight streaming through the window cast mellow shadows over the slopes of your features, shifting as you smiled ever so brilliantly.
“On one condition,” you murmured, drawing yourself closer to him and dragging a glowing finger down his jaw.
“Anything, my love,” whispered Morpheus, his lips but a hair’s breadth from yours.
“You must know that my duties to the mortals will always come first and foremost.”
The Endless dipped his head in understanding. “Every passing moment with you is only something to be all the more grateful for.”
“You certainly have a way with words, don’t you?” you whispered, amused. Morpheus stole your smile away with a kiss, indulgent in nature and devastatingly gentle.
Khonshu thought you were a fool. A mindless, bumbling fool.
“You married Dream of the Endless?” your half-brother harrumphed. “What of your courtship with Ptah? He is in love with you, sibling-mine.”
At the mention of your previous lover, you bristled, glaring witheringly at his bird-skulled form. “That was centuries ago, Khonshu. Perhaps if you’d bothered to keep in touch, you would know that. Besides, Ptah is madly in love with Sekhmet, and she with him. I have no interest in rekindling whatever it is we had in the past. I love Morpheus, and that is that. Now I’m very much glad you didn’t bother showing up to our wedding.”
“There was a wedding?” he snarked, which made you square your jaw.
The two of you had always had a love-hate relationship, as most siblings often did.
“Even Anubis showed up,” you retorted, mind wandering back to your first love from long ago, and the awkward introduction between him and your husband. “Though, Morpheus wasn’t particularly happy about that.”
“Anubis has always been a sniveling, groveling simpleton,” your brother snidely remarked. “I am ever so busy, as you can see—I have no time for frivolous events such as weddings.”
Knowing it was pointless arguing with him, you simply blew out a sigh, and watched as he carefully shifted the moon into appearance amongst the stars of the night sky.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sharp, searing pain tore through your chest, and you let out a choked groan, falling to your knees at the sudden sensation. Khonshu’s large head rounded to look at you, a litany of sharp, berating words on the tip of his tongue, but he held them back upon seeing you on the ground.
“Y/N?” he asked, deep voice bellowing.
It felt as if a dozen knives were plunged within you, twisting, twisting, twisting—
Morpheus.
You didn’t know what was going on, but something was happening to him. You could feel it. He was in danger. Panicked, you called for him in your thoughts, and received no response. With a trembling voice, you called for him out loud.
Nothing.
Khonshu was beside you by then, helping you up, asking you about a dozen impatient questions at once, but you had no time to answer any of them.
“I have to go,” you told him, before stepping away, determined to get back to the Dreaming to find your husband.
“Lucienne!” you called, running into the library after scouring the castle, finding it completely empty. The librarian looked up from her book, a smile on her face upon seeing you. It was quick to melt away when she noticed your terrified expression. “Where’s Morpheus? Where is he?”
She looked taken aback by your frantic nature, before she calmly replied, “I’m not quite sure, he was here recently—I thought he was with you?”
“So he’s not here?” you asked, breath hitching. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Lucienne, I have to find him. I’m afraid something’s happened to my husband!”
Concerned, she tilted her head. “What makes you think so?”
“I just—I felt this searing pain within me, and for a moment I could feel him, like I… I could feel his pain, as if it were mine—I felt his anguish. And then it was just gone.”
“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, I’m certain he’s perfectly fine,” Lucienne placated, a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We can wait until nightfall—Morpheus is sure to return from wherever he is by then.”
He didn’t return.
Not at nightfall.
Not the next day. Nor the next week, nor the month after that.
Not for years, not for decades.
The living realm was in shambles without him. Some went for days without sleep, collapsing only out of pure exhaustion, and others slept in a comatose state for weeks on end.
Dreams and nightmares looked to you for guidance at first—but you weren’t equipped to rule an entire realm on your own, much less one that wasn’t yours to begin with.
And not long after Dream’s disappearance, they began to leave the Dreaming, in search of something else.
The kingdom was crumbling apart, and you tried your best to keep it together at first, you really did. But with so much of your time devoted to the living realm, you began to weaken, and you couldn’t uphold both strenuous duties at once. With time, the Dreaming began decaying and breaking down, until all that was left was ash and rubble.
Lucienne was one of the only ones that stayed in the broken realm, and it shattered your heart to see her so dejected, living amongst the ruins that she once called a home.
And what made it all worse was that you missed him. You missed your husband. His comforting presence, his smooth, melodic voice, his muted kindness, despite his cold exterior. You missed him, terribly so, and to see his world crumbling away filled the cracks within your chest with a thick, tar-like despair.
During your time in the living realm, when you weren’t helping out the frantic mortals, you spent your time scouring city to city, country to country, tribe to tribe—and nowhere was Morpheus to be found. You’d even gotten so desperate to ask your brother, Khonshu, to help, and he’d reluctantly agreed, using his poor sleep-deprived avatars to help search for him. Perhaps you didn’t search hard enough.
Or perhaps… perhaps he was simply gone.
No. No, it just couldn’t be.
Morpheus wouldn’t up and disappear like that—he loved his subjects, his dreams, his nightmares, all of them—and he loved you, more than anything else.
He wouldn’t do this to you on purpose, you knew that. He was somewhere out there, in the vast cosmos.
And he needed your help.
“I’ll find you, my dearest Dream,” you whispered, still trying ever so desperately to reach him through thought. “Wherever you are… wherever you’ve gone…”
I’ll find you.
#morpheus x reader#morpheus fanfiction#the sandman x reader#the sandman fanfiction#the sandman fanfic#morpheus fanfic#morpheus x you#the sandman morpheus x reader#the sandman fluff#morpheus fluff#morpheus angst#the sandman angst#morpheus imagines#morpheus drabbles#morpheus smut#the sandman smut#the sandman imagines#the sandman drabbles
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Innovative never been done before idea : Morpheus finally going to fucking therapy
😂😂😂😂 I love this so much! Thank you for the request 😘
It turned more into Dream fighting against it (bc he would, let's be honest) 😬
The soft scraping of paper being dragged over wood diverted Dream's attention from the book he was combing through. His gaze immediately caught yours, observing you closely.
"What's this, Y/N?" Dream turned up his nose at the thin sheet of paper you had dragged over his desk towards him.
"It's a voucher," you replied quickly, already turning on your heel to leave.
"For what?" Dream inquired sceptically, not even casting a single glance to further inspect the crease-free paper.
"For a specialist."
"Of what kind?" he hummed without skipping a beat.
"For the mind." you couldn't help the sarcastic tone accompanying your voice. Dream crooked his eyebrow, critically eyeing you up and down again.
"What are you insinuating?" he huff ed.
"Nothing." you quickly replied, your hands flying up in a defensive gesture, "I just thought it might be beneficial if you could talk with a professional about all of the 'things' that have happened over the last couple of centuries. Without the fear of getting judged or the bad feeling that someone might use the information they gain to plot against you."
Silence fell over the room as Dream stared directly into your eyes. His lips were pursed tightly.
"I don't see why I would need therapy." he finally rasped, his gaze falling back to the book.
"You can't be for real right now!" you threw your hands up in the air.
"I am in fact 'for real'." a sly smirk scurries over his lips while he didn't bother to look at you, demonstratively turning a page. But his sly expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared. His usual expressionless face returned before he continued, "Tell me, why would I even need therapy?"
"You're really asking me this and expect that my response won't insult you?" you crossed your arms in front of your chest, "I know how petty you can be, my Lord." you drawled sarcastically.
Dream chuckled deeply as he slowly raised from his chair, his hands propped up on the table as he towered over you.
"I won't be. I promise... at least this time," he replied with a dark timber in his voice, eliciting involuntary goosebumps to erupt over your skin.
"Well... where would I even begin?" you tried to sound challenging but your sudden braveness left quickly again. You swallowed thickly as your gaze fell to the floor, "I guess I just want you to be able to get everything off your chest for once. So you don't have to suffer in silence anymore." you admitted meekly, your fingers nervously picking on your hands. Dream inclined his head, surprised by your sudden change in demeanour.
"I see this is a topic that is important to you." he rasped softly. With gentle steps he walked around his desk, approaching you.
"Well, yeah. Because you are important to me." Dream gently hooked his index finger under your chin, his thumb resting on top of it, smoothly lifting your chin so he could look into your eyes.
"Would you feel better if I redeem your piece of paper?" he hummed.
"Most definitely." you nodded with hopeful eyes. Dream answered with a dramatic sigh.
"Ok." he nodded.
"Ok?" your face lit up at the two simple letters.
"I will do one session with your so-called professional." Dream confirmed. A squeal escaped your lungs as you fell around his neck, peppering his cheeks with soft kisses.
"But only because I appreciate your gesture and just this once. Don't believe this will be a recurring occurrence." he huffed annoyed even though his heart was fluttering in his chest.
"Of course not," you assured him with a tight squeeze as you hid your grin against his shirt.
Taglist: @leucoratia @kellatron55 @poetic-fiasco @vbecker10 @xwhiteoleanderx @nobody1390-24 @gigglingtigger @mochie85 @sititran @dreaming-about-fanfictions @msturi2u
Divider by: @delishlydelightfuldividers
#dream#dream x you#morpheus#morpheus x you#dream of the endless#the sandman#dream drabble#dream fic#dream fanfic#dream fanfiction#morpheus drabble#morpheus oneshot#morpheus x y/n#dream x reader#dream x y/n#dream oneshot
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For the gentle prompts! Dreamling, 1. "You're alright." <3
BELOVED I FINALLY FINISHED THIS 💖💖 Hope you enjoy this retired Dream omegaverse sweetness :3
Gentle Prompts Post Here || AO3 Link Here
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Dream paces obsessively around the tiny bedroom, feeling both claustrophobic and too exposed at once. There is a tension behind his teeth, a feeling that will not abate until his—his—until he is reunited with his beloved. His mate.
When the Fates had come for his life, Hob had stood in their way and called Dream his true mate. As soon as he’d spoken the words, Dream knew them to be true, and he’d stared in wonder, as Hob, his mate, had told the fates they could not have Dream. The Fates had been torn, as killing one’s true mate would kill both partners, and yet Hob Gadling was protected by Death herself, and thus not allowed to die.
Dream had looked at his sister then, and all she’d given him was a tiny little knowing smile. Somehow, she had known everything, as she knew and Destiny knew all things.
Dream had wanted to be angry at her, but he couldn’t. Not when she had led him to his mate, all those centuries ago. He had thought that Endless did not have mates, for they did not hold secondary genders the way humans had. And yet, here Hob Gadling was, declaring what everyone except Dream seemed to already know.
The Fates decided instead to take something of equal value to Dream’s life. They took from him his function, his purpose, the very essence of his power as Endless. It had hurt. They reshaped him into something else, something vulnerable and soft, something human. To Dream, the separation from his power had made him feel as though he were dying anyways. His very being had been changed, his soul was no longer what it once was, nor was his mind.
But when he woke up and looked his mate in the eyes, Dream knew everything was going to be okay. Not today, nor the next day, but eventually. Though he was no longer Dream of the Endless, he was still Dream, and he was not going to spend the rest of his days alone. He had Hob, his oldest friend, his protector, his mate, to help him move through his new life, his new purpose, as a human being.
A knock sounds on the other side of the door, interrupting Dream from his musings of the past. Dream whips his head so fast towards the source of the noise that he feels his neck pop. That was another new sensation of being human too. Dream had bones now.
“Dream?” Hob asks, his voice soft and quiet and perfect in Dream’s ears. “I’m done with work now so—”
Dream pulls open the door so hard it crashes into the wall. Hob laughs as he’s forcefully yanked into the room and then pressed to the bed, Dream nuzzling and scenting him the entire time. He wants to drown Hob in his pheromones, wants to bury himself deep inside his beloved’s body, wants to be closer, closer, until he doesn’t know where one of them ends and the other begins.
“Hey it’s alright, you’re all right, I’m here,” Hob coos, peppering Dream’s face with kisses and nosing along the alpha’s face. He returns the scenting gesture, releasing a calming pheromone that Dream inhales deeply, desperate to fill his lungs with it. He purrs happily with each inhale, and with every exhale, he feels the tension start to dissipate from his body. His muscles relax, and then he is content.
Hob senses the change in him immediately and laughs, clutching Dream even closer.
“So how’s your first rut been going?” Hob asks, and Dream groans in frustration.
“I do not like this,” he complains, flopping onto Hob’s chest and then rolling over so as not to crush the omega. “Everything is just—so much.” Being human, in general, was a lot, and more unpleasant than good on some days. Especially today at the start of his rut. Dream had always carried the collective unconsciousness within him, he had known what human emotions felt like. And yet, having his own human emotions to contend with was an entirely different thing altogether.
Hob chuckles, and rolls on his side so that he and Dream are face to face, cupping a hand to his lover’s face.
“First one’s always a bit rough, I’m afraid,” Hob says sympathetically. “Though I can only speak for myself as an omega,” he adds. “Gets easier though, I promise.”
Dream sighs, then nuzzles into Hob’ palm. “I suppose it is a small price to pay to be your mate,” he replies.
“That’s the spirit,” Hob says, before he leans in and places a kiss at the tip of Dream’s nose. “I will say you’re one of the most polite alphas in rut I’ve ever met.”
Dream growls, suddenly jealous at the mention of Hob knowing other alphas. It is unreasonable, illogical even, to expect that his mate not be at the very least casual acquaintances with some. Hob has lived for centuries, has loved others besides Dream even. It does not bother Dream to know these things normally. But there is no logic in ruts or heats, and all Dream can think of, in this moment with his hormones running wild, is to claim.
Hob yelps as Dream pushes him down into the mattress, then grins up at his mate as Dream’s pheromones scream mine mine mine.
“Well, hello there,” Hob purrs when Dream dips his head down and licks along the mating bite he had given his lover just a month earlier. Hob had gone into heat within days of Dream becoming human and their lovemaking had lasted the entire week. Dream feels the same urge now as he did back then, the urge to be one with his mate.
“I’ve got you,” Hob croons. “I’m here, whatever you need, love.”
Love.
Such a simple word, and yet it carried so much weight, so much gravitas between the two of them. Hob loved Dream, had always loved Dream. And now, they had the rest of eternity to love one another back.
#dreamling#the sandman#sandman fanfic#hob x dream#morpheus x hob#seiya writes#seiya drabbles#seiya writes dreamling#I need to update my tags I think lol
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"Dream" Hob hums, airy and soft.
The way he says it is so full of wonder and marvel. It's hard to ignore, it's hard to not pay attention. Even if he really shouldn't.
"What is it?" Morpheus asks back, aiming for stern but ending up with something all too soft.
"Nothing really" Hob grins, eyes glinting in that special way of his, full of life and joy. "Can't a man enjoy using the name of his dear friend?"
There's an air about him, like he's teasing, but not quite. "Now that he knows it, that is" he adds coyly, smiling into his beer mug as he drinks.
To this, Morpheus finds he has no good answer, at least not one that wouldn't sound rude where he doesn't want it to be.
So he relents, looking down at Hob's hands, then up through his eyelashes, right at him.
"Of course. You may use my name at any time you'd like, Hob Gadling." he says, lips curling and eyes narrowing, feeling more than a little pleased when Hob's Adam's apple jumps as he swallows too fast, coughing lightly.
"Huh." Hob puts the mug down, absentmindedly touching his ear, looking at Morpheus with eyes that look thoughtful "Of course, Dream." he lowers his tone at the name, looking at him with easy confidence.
The husky undertones set a shiver down Morpheus' spine.
He really shouldn't. However...
Morpheus' gaze flicks to Hob’s lips before returning to his eyes, judging by the gleam in them, Hob had definitely noticed.
Well then. Morpheus thinks, tilting his head as he observes his friend.
They both are smiling at each other, as they often do.
#I'm on a bus ride home after a hell long day#But here is a thing#So enjoy it my fellow dreamers#HobDream#DreamHob#Hob x Dream#Dream x Hob#hob gadling#dream of the endless#lord morpheus#Dreamling#Dreamling fic#The Sandman#The Sandman fic#Morpheus#Hob#Dream#So many tags what a mess hahaha#I got home and edited the ending just a little bit adding a few lines#I NEVER KNOW WHERE'S A GOOD SPOT TO END A /DRABBLE/#buns.w
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bear witness to the rise and the fall
dream of the endless x gn!reader
series masterlist
“how do you deal with his lord of grumpiness?” the voice comes from nowhere and you’re ashamed to admit that it does make you jump. looking up to see matthew flying closer to you, you can’t help but visualise your peaceful afternoon in the library slipping away from you.
you don’t blame him for seeking you out; with so few residents left in the dreaming, it’s natural for someone who was very recently human to seek out some company. you can’t help but wish he’d found lucienne or even abel and cain rather than you though.
“he’s my husband, it’s my job to love him regardless of his temperament.”
"all due respect your highness but that's not really an answer." it feels like it should be beneath you to roll your eyes but matthew seems to be bringing out a side of you that had long been dormant.
"i'm not sure what you want me to say. it's been millennia, i'm been witness to every possible emotional reaction he's ever given. it's rare his response to a situation surprises me anymore." matthew caws quietly and the two of you fall back into silence. you return to the pages of your book, assuming the conversation to be over with.
"you must get tired of him being all brooding all the time though? after all that time it must have some impact on you." all that time alive and this feels like the first time you've ever glared at one of your husband's ravens. this conversation is quickly making you realise that you miss jessamy more than you thought.
"i don't think i need to remind you that i lost him for almost a century matthew. i do not blame him for his reaction to his imprisonment and the theft of his belongings. i missed him far too much to judge him for something so trivial." matthew makes a noise of approval, and you think you've finally satisfied him enough for him to leave you alone. if not, you might actually consider going finding lucienne and apologising for the flurry of feathers that will soon fill this section of the library.
"you must really love him if you're willing to put all that work in for him." the final interruption makes it clear that as long as you remain here, there will not be any peace. snapping your book shut, you rise and make your way to the door that leads out of the library into the palace. you're vaguely aware of matthew taking flight to keep up with you and can't help the twinge of bitterness that leaks into your tone at his comment as you respond.
"it's not work. not to me. not if it's him."
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