#morpheus love languages | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

auroraborealyss · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬' 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐈.

⊹ pairing: morpheus x reader

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

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

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

⊹ word count: 3027

⊹ previous part: morpheus' love languages part i.

⊹ now playing: take me to church by hozier

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

call him by his name

not dream, but morpheus

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

you tried to hold your moans back once

biggest mistake of your life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

always asks for consent

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

has a thing for walls

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

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

overstimulation

worships your body

kissed every inch of your body once

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

is still a sucker for eye contact

looks up through his lashes as he eats you out

looks down at you as he fucks into you

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

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

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

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

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

you’ve ridden him on his throne

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

can unclasp your bra with one hand

pulls your underwear down with his teeth

bites on thighs

and neck

and chest

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

just kiss it away

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

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

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

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

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

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

he’ll add a finger soon enough

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

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

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

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

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

and don't forget to sit on his face

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and you do pass out

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

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

however, he does like to take his time teasing you

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

hand on your upper thigh when eating with others

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

night is definitely prime time for sex

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

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

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

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

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

rather, he uses toys to overstimulate

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

the gift he does like to give you is lingerie

he gives you an assortment of different colours in different materials

his favourite is whatever makes you feel the most confident

gives you lingerie that is meant to be ripped off you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

back to his greatest gift to you being his cock

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

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

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

nearly cums in your mouth immediately

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @aurorarevenclaw1927

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

5K notes · View notes

landwriter · 2 years

Text

me: the world doesn't need a you've got mail au me: the world DOES NOT need a you've got mail au me: dream would absolutely get into a love triangle with himself following an epistolary romance and continue withholding that information from hob for as long as possible because he is convinced hob will reject the whole of him me: also descriptions of new york in the fall and bookstores

#hob 'i like selling books because creating community spaces is my love language' gadling #dream 'morpheus books megacorp goth ceo' of the endless #dreamling #fucking stop me #i beg #the sandman

367 notes · View notes

soutcftime · 2 years

Text

Dreamling but it's flufftober (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

It's Saturday night and Hob is already asleep when he feel something pushing in his left side of the bed. He doesn't open his eyes at first, he rolled over and take a deep breath before opened his eyes.

Dream is just right there, with eyes closed and a very tired expression. Hob covers him with the sheet, slide closer and kisses his forehead while hug him.

The next morning Hob is the first in wake up, he has had the most beautiful dream of all the times and it makes him smile like a fool for a while. Of course, he take his phone to check out his email and answer some questions that his students have. His free hand playing with Morpheus' hair.

"what are you doing?" the deep voice grabs his attention out of his phone. Hob looks down and found Dream's eyes closed.

"oh, you know. working a little bit" he say looking back to the mobile, running a hand through Dream's hair.

"but it's Saturday, stop working" he purred hugging his waist.

"just a little bit" Hob promise, scratching Dream's neck.

Morpheus nods, kissing Hob's jaw before cuddle at his side.

#touch starved dream of the endless #touch as love language hob gadling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #morpheus #dreamling #hob x morpheus #dream x hob #hob x dream #the sandman

213 notes · View notes

morpheusbaby3 · 3 months

Text

I think most of us agree that Morpheus' love language is giving gifts??? 🥹🥹

#the sandman #dream of the endless #lord morpheus #sandman #love language

13 notes · View notes

cosmictapestry · 11 months

Text

B12. hand over mouth

hi yeah no one requested this. sorry

prompt list + fills here

Lucienne is alone in the library, slipping books in place on the shelf in front of her one-by-one in yellow midday light. There are no whispers nearby, no tug on her consciousness alerting her to the call of a visiting dreamer or one of her own subjects. The book she slides into place smells wonderfully dusty, and the sun is hot on her back—and she feels his presence seconds before he presses her into the bookshelf, his chest cool and solid against her back, his mouth at her ear.

He places his lips there—just at the tip of her ear, his breath soft and hot. His hands drift up to cover her own, take them gently from the book, direct her to brace herself on the ledges of the shelf. His hands drift up her arms then, drag down either side of her body until they come to softly grip her hips. He tugs her back, rocks her into him. Finally, he speaks. “I would take you like this.”

It takes all of ten seconds, and he renders her senseless, her skin burning her blood singing her bones trembling. She cannot help but gasp, her arousal so sudden and sharp it echoes through him, makes his hands tighten on her body. The thrill of it is almost too much—as she knew it would be, when she told him she wanted this—and she can find nothing to say.

“Lucienne,” her lord draws his lips over sensitive skin that tingles in his wake. His hands don’t move. “Have I frightened you?”

“You couldn’t if you tried,” she says by rote, because that is the answer to that question, and it clears her head. Her arousal has turned his breath rapid, his chest heaving with it, he is so hard against her arse she wonders if it hurts. “What has you so worked up?”

Lord Morpheus swallows audibly, and his voice when he next speaks is coarser, breathier, resembling more the shy and desperately sensitive man she usually has in her bed were it not for the hands now wandering possessively, sliding into her waistcoat, groping roughly at her breast and hip. “Nothing in particular,” he takes the tip of her ear between his lips, sucks on it to make her squirm back into him. “I was thinking of you. Of being inside you.”

She shivers and shifts her thighs and already feels the dampness between them. In response the hand on her hip tucks between her legs, and she gasps, and his fingers stroke her, quick and rough and and cupping in time with the squeezes on her breast. He growls, his teeth behind her ear, a prickling sharp threat that sings through every nerve of her body. “Lucienne,” and his voice is wrecked, “my Lucienne, tell me.”

“Oh, if you insist,” she whispers, breathy, and he huffs, amused by her or exasperated with himself. Self-consciousness always catches up with him quickly. She rocks back on him, relishes the way his soft lips part on a pained noise. “You’re not going to make me wait now, are you?”

In response, her trousers disappear, and her knickers melt away beneath his fingers. The library air is cool on her skin, and she is exposed, concealed only by the flowing black of his robes, falling over her, pale hands roaming down, easily witnessed by anyone who might see fit to call upon her. He mouths at her neck, rubs her folds with none of his usual patience, brings her to wetness with brute stimulation. She writhes for him and pants and whines and tries to reach back, but he stills her hand, brings it back to rest on the shelf. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

Lucienne keens, high and mournful, and he rolls his hips into her, grinds himself where she’s sopping wet. “Your cock,” she says, timid in her own ears, pitched almost like a question.

Another long, hard grind that forces her up onto her toes. “This?”

She sobs, and she holds her position, lets him rut between her thighs, her clit pressed between his fingers and his silks. “Inside me, my lord, please, your cock inside me—”

Lord Morpheus stops with a bitten-off groan, panting hard on the back of her neck. The hand not rubbing her reaches down and she hears the rustle of his dampened robes, feels his body jerk when he takes himself in hand. He slots himself between her thighs again, thrusts teasingly through her gathered slick, hot hard flesh instead of shifting fabric. “Inside you?”

Lucienne bites back a frustrated growl, but some trace of a snarl must show on her face because he raises the hand was at her breast to grip her jaw, turn her face roughly to the side so he can see her. She can feel her pulse in her clit. He traces the curve of her cheek with his nose, presses a soft kiss to her temple, his fingers bruising points of pressure. “Tell me to fuck you, Lucienne.”

If any blood at all was working towards powering her brain she may have been able to say something other than “Gods, Dream—yes, fuck me, please—” but, alas, it is all she can babble, and then more of the same when she finally, finally feels him begin to ease into her.

Wet as she is, she’s still tight, straining around him, and she wriggles, body instinctively rejecting the discomfort while the rest of her thrills with it. “You can take it,” he whispers next to her ear, feverish, the hand on her mound pulling her back against him. “You’re so warm, Lucienne, you feel so good,” and he groans, bites her pulse, his fingers at the hinge of her jaw lodging her mouth open, “you can take it, you can take me.”

Then he’s fully seated inside her, throbbing hot iron, stretching her and lifting her onto her toes with her hands clinging desperately to the bookshelf for balance. He eases his grip on her jaw, smoothes his fingers over the drool collected at the corners of her mouth, whispers a thoroughly unwarranted apology. He pets her throat, braces his hand there, keeping her steady. His sigh is relieved, content, and it tapers off into a desperate moan when he grinds, his cock sitting heavy and deep and staying there, lodged in her heat.

Lucienne’s forehead falls to rest on her hands, and her lord mouths at her neck, circles her clit, squeezes her throat without cutting off her air. She can only moan brokenly, straining on her toes, sweat dampening through her rumpled waistcoat. She’s so full, thrilled and sparking, and the next roll of his hips makes him whimper and the sound alights everything wild inside her. “So needy,” she slurs, and he chokes, and his lips press to her pulse point to stifle further noises. “Does it feel that good, baby?”

Her lord growls, bares his teeth on her skin, shoves in as though in punishment or reward. His fingers pinch her clit, roll it roughly, make her yelp and clench and quiver with the strain of staying upright. His chest is solid behind her—he would not let her collapse before he’s wrung her of all the pleasure she can bear. “You tell me,” he rasps, and he licks a broad stripe up her neck, tongue curling under her jaw. “You’re dripping, Lucienne.”

She is quite helpless then, rocking with each languid thrust as it drags inside her, fills her and then leaves her hollow and then stuffs her full again. She is so wet, and then wetter still when he breathes hot and harsh on her neck and curses and jerks, fills her in hot pulses, whines and trembles while he does. For a long moment he stays there, plugging her up, and with another shivering breath he begins to move again.

Harsher now, harder and faster, squelching and slapping and fingers bruising hard on her throat. His other hand works her clit until she is panting out high-pitched cries, yelping on every savage push into the core of her, until he releases her throat and claps his hand over her mouth. “Do you want the entire realm to hear you?” he whispers in her ear, strained. “Do you want your subjects to see you this way? Wise Lucienne, noble Lucienne, beloved Lucienne—in the sanctity of her library—begging to be fucked—”

Lucienne can feel herself gush around him, can hear the roaring of her own blood and his soft voice and the dull reverberating impact of their bodies. The force of his thrusts keeps her trembling on her toes as she comes and he fucks her through it.

“Would you like that?” Lord Morpheus nibbles on the shell of her ear up to the sharp tip of it. He sounds like she’s squeezing the life out of him through his cock. “Should I gather our kingdom to watch me take you?” this he punctuates with a particularly sharp thrust that knocks the breath from her. Her mouth falls open and his fingers slip inside and press down on her tongue. “Would you have me share your beauty? Would you show all our people how well you take your lord’s cock?”

She sobs and shakes and drools around his fingers and she comes, again, quick after the last, and the pleasure does not wane so much as flare painfully, building almost beyond her tolerance as he drives into her like an animal. The hand on her clit gives her a few wet slaps before retreating, forearm wrapping around her waist to give her a bit more support while he fucks up into her limp body. There’s a small puddle of their mingled fluids on the floor beneath them. He pants in her ear in desperation and ecstasy. “Can you give me one more?” he whispers to her. “My Lucienne, my light, one more time for me—”

Somehow she manages it, her body clenching in weak spasms, her head lolling forward so his fingers nearly choke her. He goes still, and he bites her shoulder while her cunt milks him until he comes with a great shudder, sloshing inside her and leaking out around him. He holds her up while her body goes slack, and he kisses the sweat from her face.

Lucienne lets him heal her where she is stretched and swollen, much to his obvious relief, and slouches in his arms while he takes great pains in righting her clothing and cleaning up his mess. She doesn’t let him heal the bite mark on her shoulder—that one she will keep, at least for the rest of the day.

Finally her lord is satisfied that she is back in working order, and he steps back, holding her hands as though worried she will lose her balance. He looks wrecked himself, and he sighs happily when she stretches up to kiss him. “Thank you,” she says. “You are a man of many talents.”

His eyes narrow in suspicious amusement. “Such as?”

“Fucking, and also being fucked,” she kisses him again to swallow up his laugh. “Speaking of. You are going to regret the teasing.”

#the sandman #sorry i’m in heat. or whatever #is lucienne pussy really that good or is morpheus dick really that whipped? the answer is yes #morphienne #minors dni #x #fuck nasty in the library is a love language i think

20 notes · View notes

phantasmagoricalullaby · 1 year

Text

Do you think Dream could recreate a portrait out of dreams? Like a locket portrait from 1589 or something. A non specific example, like the equivalent of a loving husband and father having a picture of his wife and son in his wallet to show people how amazing his family is, but like, it's a locket he wears everyday because he had it in 1589.

#Just like a cat to bring you gifts that you thought were dead #We know what dream's love languages are #just a though I had but im not sure if it's possible but lots of things only exist in dreams now that Morph can bring from dreams #And with how soft time is in the dreaming I think it's a possibility #the sandman #sandman #the sandman netflix #the sandman 2022 #the sandman tv #dream of the endless #the sandman morpheus #dream the endless #lord morpheus #the sandman dream #hob x morpheus #hob gadling #dreamling

48 notes · View notes

flum3n · 2 years

Text

The Fishbowl

Dreams can never sleep like living things do who close their eyes and melt between the waking and the dreaming: their passage is safe and easy as breathing. For a dream, it’s not that way. For a dream, it’s like squeezing through a vein and sometimes it clots and no counting sheep no warm milk or weary eyes can soothe a nightmare home. A murderer has the respite of sleep, sanctuary from any corporeal crime. Babies dream with a gluttony and mourners drink until troubled thoughts form a lullaby. Rats and cats and hares can sleep but for the King of Sleep dreaming rests like the heavy weight of a crown. 100 years is a very long time when you’re imprisoned in body and waking mind.

#the sandman #morpheus #dream #dream of the endless #cw blood #cw veins #poetry #original poetry #original poem #writblr #dreaming #sleeping #not flower language #the sandman fanwork #angst #lol #i LOVE this show #and was thinking about how much longer 100 years was for a dude that can't sleep #he's the king of dreams but his own dominion betrayed him

11 notes · View notes

mossmx · 11 months

Text

should I go watch matrix *again* in the cinema??

on one hand I need the serotonin, on the other hand I've seen it so many times XD

#they need to make an edit cut #so it's only morpheus and smith #abridged version #and I get italian > english > italian #a language sandwich to enjoy them at their best #and also afterwards my bff fanvid plays #and afterwards I discorver that someone filmed my fanfic and they show that #couff coff #I got sidetracked #anyyyway #laurence fishburne I love you #I will watch mattrix a billion times just for you #;___; tears of how much i love that man's face #moss text #ALSO if italian cinemas put out OTHER movies I love #I wouldn't have to just rewatch matrix XDD #lololol #if there was My Beautiful Laundrette I would be at the cinema 10 days in a week #before you say I can see it at home #CINEMA IS AN EXPERIENCE #don't question me #CINEMA IS LIFE #cinema is one of the pleasures of going out in life #aaaaaaaaaaaa #cinema lover until death do us apart

0 notes

honeybeezgobzzzzz · 3 months

Text

𓅨 Eros: Chapter Two

Eros: Married to Dream of the Endless, you find yourself sent back in time to Ancient Greece where you, unfortunately, meet Oneiros. Fresh off a divorce and drowning the sorrows of his son’s death by indulging in the Panathenaia, you find yourself trapped beneath the lustful gaze of your future husband. In your defense, he seduced you first…

Warnings: Language, Taunting.

To Note: Morpheus x Wife!Reader, Time Travel, Oneiros is used for AncientGreek!Morpheus.

Word Count: ~2.8k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

By dinner that night you had nearly drowned yourself in turbulent thoughts and discomfort. Your friends were gossiping while lounging at a table, they were gushing about all the men and woman that had arrived through out the day. Apparently in the celebrations, orgies were a common occurrence among the aristocrats and it was always a guessing game of who would be getting with who, or more importantly, who would get the golden invitations to the orgies with the most powerful people of Athens. You didn’t mind the open sexuality of Athens, it was actually a freeing thought… but you’d spent the afternoon and night in a state of hurt with a very agonized heart.

Why did it pain you so much to see Oneiros in pain? It was clear that he was hurting. Hurting and drowning himself in wine and debauchery to take his mind and being off the fact that his son had died and he’d gone through a divorce. You hated seeing him like that. You hated it so much. But you were well aware that Morpheus had gone through this phase in his life. He’d gruelingly explained it to you on a rainy afternoon after you had pestered him about his past relationships. He was your husband and you loved him so much, yet you still knew very little about his past.

He hadn’t wanted to tell you anything. Hadn’t wanted you to know about his failings in martial relations and love period. But the Endless loved you with every grain of sand he possessed and had explained the sorrows and troubles he’d gone through… minus the time proceeding his divorce. Watching the debauchery unfold in front of you, you fully understand why he hadn’t uttered a peep about his greek era. The greeks certainly knew their way around bodily delights.

“Elpis?” You blinked and glanced at Merope, she and the other girls were looking at you with concerned looks. They had noticed a change in you since earlier, had barely touched food or drink and spent an awful lot of time sitting with a faraway look within your eyes. “You’ve been rather demure since luncheon, is all well?” It wasn’t like you could just unload all your troubles on the three women, no matter how much you wanted to.

“Just a headache,” You informed her before unfolding yourself from your curled position and rising to your feet. You brushed out nonexistent wrinkles from the skirt of your dress. “I think I need some fresh air and to cool down.” Your fingers tugged at your clothes, undoing several pins that kept fabric folded against your body in a decorative way. The silken fabric loosened and draped until it was just barely held together on your body. Now you didn’t feel so smothered. “I’ll be out for a walk, don’t let me keep you up waiting.”

It was clear that they weren’t convinced by your words as you strode past them with your peplum fluttering behind you. It was a hot night in Athens, but the breeze from the Aegean Sea cooled you down as you took a garden path that led straight to the beautiful water. Standing at the waters edge, you crouched down and brushed your fingers through the slightly warm water. This wouldn’t last forever, surely, your Morpheus was probably ripping through realms and universes trying to find you… you just had to deal with his past self until you went home.

Which you didn’t know when that would happen.

And you didn’t like the idea of leaving this Morpheus in pain.

But could you actually do anything about that?

You didn’t exactly have a handbook on what to do when you time traveled.

Destiny will be up your ass if you screwed this up…

Then again maybe this was supposed to happen?

You growled and dropped your face into your hand with a more than exaggerated groan. You didn’t sign up for this time travel bull shit when you married Morpheus! All you had to be, according to Morpheus and just about everyone else in the realm, was his wife. Of course you wanted to be active in the realm and help out the denizens, dreams, and nightmares as their queen, but no one held you to duty.Just as you sighed and dragged your fingers down your face, pulling your eyelids as you went, you felt a tingle in your being and a shiver run up your spine. You rose to your feet and turned around.

Ah.

High above on one of the balconies overseeing the Aegean Sea, lounged Oneiros in all his glory. His tunic was half on his body, revealing a great expanse of his star sculpted physique. His hair was ruffled since you had last seen him. Right. Lucienne reluctantly mentioned that Morpheus had a few hoe eras. This was one of them. Even though he wasn’t your Morpheus, you could still feel his inherent desire and lust. It was certainly directed at you since you had met eyes with him. That both scared and excited you.

“Elpis?” Kynna’s sweet voice broke your stare down with Oneiros. Jarred from holding the lustful gaze of Oneiros, you blinked rapidly. “What are you doing outside all alone? Did you have a bad dream?”

“Kynna!” You softly exclaimed, striding up to the girl and plucking her from the ground. What on earth was she doing out of be? There were half naked adults everywhere! “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“You’re not in bed,” The little girl pointed out like it would make a difference, making your eyebrow pop up. The utter cheek!

“That’s because I was out for a walk, come little one, back to bed, you have a great many activities to do tomorrow.” Continuing to carry Kynna, you entered the large stone building and walked towards her families wing. Your heart throbbed in your chest the entire way to her room.

You sat in your seat stiff as a bored. It was another extravagant luncheon hosted by one of the noble families. You hadn’t wanted to accept the invitation, you weren’t versed in the politics of Athens and certainly didn’t know anyone other than your three knew friends. The only plus side to attending was the delicious food served. You’d spent a lot of time snacking on olives while partaking in wine, and it was nice to eat a proper grecian meal.

Under normal circumstances, the men would eat separately from the woman, but since it was Panathenaia, an exception was made so everyone could mingle and celebrate in shared fashion. As uncomfortable as you were with the flirting and innuendos, you did find yourself laughing at a few crude jokes and well entertained by the conversations you found yourself drawn into.

The men and woman of Ancient Greece were beautiful, impossibly so, but they were also so easy to get along with and forget that you didn’t even belong in this era! Several times you found yourself falling into a place of comfort you should not entertain! So every time a conversation got a little too intimate you pulled back. But that being said, you carried small talk and day to day conversation quite well.

At least until a certain someone arrived.

Your attention was drawn to Oneiros like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t help it. Not when he was the love of your life and the very being you promised to spend the rest of eternity together. Not when you had allowed the anthropomorphic being to place a physical part of his Endless being within your own so that you may spend every moment he had left in time with him.

But he wasn’t yours. At least not yet. That didn’t stop the smoldering looks he sent your way and it certainly didn’t stop the fire that burned deep in your belly until you squirmed in your seat. Gods damn that being for being your kryptonite! Wanting payback for what he was causing you, you began eating grapes. One by one. Allowing your fingers to linger on your lips while you held his gaze.

It was a rather torturous sight to see.

The purple peplum you had on, held in place by golden pins and a decorative belt that wrapped around your waist. The fabric was just as light as all the other peplums you’d ben dressed in, but at the moment you felt like it weighed a tonne. Feeling suffocated by your feelings, the heavy gaze of Oneiros that seemed to follow you everywhere, and the general sultry atmosphere that enveloped the commons, you had slipped to the gardens for an afternoon stroll. Even with the fresh air you were still struggling to control your emotions.

“I just want to go home,” You softly murmured to yourself, allowing your hand to brush over several hibiscus flowers. “But I can’t even have that. No, someone just wants to fuck with me and my heart by forcing me to live through one of my husbands darkest times.” Sighing, you continued running your fingers over flowers and leaves. Lifting your eyes to the skies, you willed time to go by faster, wishing for the relieving darkness that harkened a sleep that blocked out the visceral agony you felt.

Before you had married Morpheus, you used to be so excited about falling asleep at night. You practically lived two lives, one on earth during the day, and second, more meaningful one in the Dreaming at night. You knew almost all of the denizens of the Dreaming before you had become romantically involved with Morpheus, so your nights had literally been a second life. But then the Endless had finally decided to make his intentions clear with you.

You had been swept off your feet by a blanket of stars Morpheus had weaved himself and courted like a spoiled regency debutant. It had been so extravagant that you had nearly told Morpheus that he only needed to get you flowers and talk to you regularly… but you had quickly found that bestowing you with gifts and words of affection were his love language. He wanted to shower you with gifts. He wanted to bespoke words of adoration to you. You were his universe. He was the being you never knew you needed. Together you felt complete.

Sniffing while your eyes burned, you hastily wiped at your eyes and nose lest you start balling in the middle of the garden and cause an upset. Why were you doing this to yourself? You knew you were playing with fire. Finding yourself and stopping the threatening onslaught of burning hit tears, you cleared your throat and looked up at the flowering pink shrub you found yourself in front of.

Oleander.

Smelling the fragrant blooms, you reached up to take one of the pretty blooms. It was just out of reach, but if you stretched on your tippy toes, you could probably reach it. So you stretched upwards, pressing close to the plant. Your fingers brushed the soft petal, but you couldn’t get a good grasp that wouldn’t tear the delicate bloom apart. In your struggle, you hadn’t noticed his approach and jerked in place when fabric bushed against your back as a pale hand reached over your head and effortlessly plucked the bloom for you.

Freezing in place as your breath caught in your chest, you clutched your hands to your chest. It wasn’t like you could ignore him now. Slowly turning your head, your eye met vibrant blue and you had to force yourself to stay still. Gods all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around his body and never let go! Oneiros twirled the bloom between his lithe fingers, all the while maintaining his intense gaze with yours.

You fascinated him, hypnotized him with your eyes, demanded his heart and passion with but a glance. Yet you never drew close enough to indulge. It was maddening, for Oneiros wanted no other but you. You’d drown out the sharp sting of loss he felt. He was sure of it. But something kept pulling you away the moment he was sure you’d finally break. The Endless offered the plucked flower to you, waiting for you to either accept or refuse it. Given your rather flighty disposition, he half expected you to flee the garden.

But you didn’t.

No. Oneiros was surprised when one of your slightly trembling hands reached to accept the flower. Your eyes were trained on the bloom, and you made sure not to touch him… but your silence spoke a million things.

It was getting harder and harder to avoid interacting with Oneiros. You didn’t know if it was because you naturally gravitated towards him, or if it was because he clearly wanted you. Nothing you did rid you of the pain you felt from him. So you had gone to the baths to try and soak out the stress you felt. It was nearing midnight, so most of the nobles were either indulging in bodily delights, drinking, or sleeping off the alcohol. That meant you could enjoy the public bath house in privacy.

So you slowly made your way into the steamy room and carefully unwound the belt around your waist. Then your fingers plucked the pins from your shoulders and you carefully folded the silk cloth that hung around your body. The steaming water looked inviting as you stepped down into one of the pools, and you sighed at the nostalgia that filled your mind. The bath house pools were much like the large bath you had in the Dreaming, and made memories of relaxing in it cradled within Morpheus’ arms as he told you stories of past dreams, surface within your mind.

You wanted to go home so bad.

“Are tonights revelries not to your appetite?” You jerked in place at the sound of his voice, your head snapping around to see Oneiros lounging in a corner of the bath. Shit. Shit. Shit. It took everything you had not to stare at his naked body leisurely sprawled across the sitting ledge without care. His black messy curls made your fingers twitch for they ached to run through them. Oh, it wasn’t just those curls either, you wanted run your fingers along his skin, trace his muscles, adore the curves and planes upon his otherworldly body, kiss him until you were forced to take a breath… It took you a solid minute to find the courage to reply.

“I do not usually partake in such festivities, my lord,” You replied, a slight tremble in your words. A black eyebrow arched and you forced your gaze to the carved statues of spites mounted at the end of the room. “I am more reserved with my affections.”

“But not entirely opposed as your skin paints a different story,” Oneiros pointed out, his eyes lingering on the faded marks of someones apparent love. Oh yes, someone had the pleasure of indulging in your body. Someone worshipped you greatly and with complete devotion. The marks were subtle, but intentional. Territorial even. The Endless watched as you flushed beneath his scrutiny, and took great enjoyment in knowing that he did have an effect on you. “Who would leave a creature as lovely and delicate as you, by yourself during such festivities?”

“He’s away on business and I do not seek to control him,” You told him, carefully unfolding yourself from your tight ball. Instantly the Endless was drinking in the view of your gorgeous curves and faintly loved skin. He wanted to devour you. You wanted him to stop hurting. So you rose to your feet in the water and slowly sloshed over to him. “Why are you here, my lord?”

Clearly he didn’t expect you to ask him such a question, but nonetheless he humored you after taking a sip of his wine and eyeing your goddess like body. Soft and begging for worship. One he would surely get lost in should the chance arise.

“I am enjoying the festivities, the same as you,” You nearly snorted and rolled your eyes. He may not be your Morpheus, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t pick up when he was lying. You lifted your chin.

“No, you are not,” Now that was a bold statement to say directly to his face, and you could see his eyes darken.

“You dare think to know my intentions better than I?” He questioned back, eyes searching yours to see how far you would push his patience. Your lips were distracting, after your grape stunt he had wanted nothing but to devour them to see if they were indeed as soft and inviting as they looked… as was the rest of your glorious body. Tender curves begging to be caressed, clear skin aching be marked once more, lips that called to be tamed…

“I know enough to wonder why you are here, rather than with the men and women desperately throwing themselves at you.” You informed him before turning to the side and moving back towards your folded dress. You left the bathhouse and a ravenous Endless behind, your heart beating fast in your chest.

Date Published: 1/22/24

Last Edit: 1/22/24

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#dream of the endless x reader #morpheus #lord morpheus #dream the endless #sandman x reader #dream the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman #dream of the endless #the sandman netflix

296 notes · View notes

writethrough · 3 months

Note

Hello! I just finished reading your Morpheus fics and I absolutely love them! So I thought about requesting something, too. Morpheus x reader where reader is feeling well and calls for him. They spend all evening togheter after a long time. reading togheter, watching some movies, talking and sharing their thoughts... until Morpheus notice it’s really late, almost midnight, and it’s time for reader to sleep, but she doesn't want to ‘cause Morpheus is always busy and she misses spending time with him, even whe she's asleep lately he was never there. Morpheus feels guilty and promises her he’ll be more present, especially in her dreams. A nice ending where he stays with her until she falls asleep, and him appearing in her dreams as he promised? Thank you 💖

A Homemade Remedy

(Morpheus x Female Reader)

Synopsis: After days of dealing with your sickness by yourself, you give in and call your boyfriend, hoping he'll come.

Warnings: Minor language

Word Count: 815

A/N: Stop two on the apology tour. I'm so sorry this has taken so long! And I want to thank you profusely for your patience. And for sending the request in. I really hope you enjoy this fluffy little fic!

Normally, you wouldn’t bother Morpheus with this. He had more important things to deal with instead. But you felt as if Death would appear at any moment, and all you wanted was some comfort from your boyfriend.

You pressed the ruby pendant he gifted you to your heart, croaking his name.

“Beloved?”

You blinked, seemingly slower than usual.

“Hi,” you whispered, covers pulled to your chin.

He took you in for a few moments, brows pinched slightly. You could only tell he was worried because of how long you’d known him.

“You are unwell.”

“S’just a—” A coughing fit started, only ceasing when he handed you your glass of water. “Just a cold.”

Between the tissues piled in the trash beside your bed, the bottle of medication without its lid, and the two additional blankets on top of you, he knew that wasn’t the case. You’d been here much longer than a few hours.

“Why did you not call for me when your ailment began?”

And there it was, the look you were dreading the more you prolonged summoning him. You’re not even sure he’s aware of his “kicked puppy” look.

You shrugged, pulling the covers just below your nose.

Morpheus made no sound—as graceful and Endless as ever. The only indication he had moved was the lifting of your blankets as he slid in behind you.

“Turn around, my love.”

You were far too weak and needy to refuse.

Settling with your head on his thigh, he rested a hand on your hair.

“I am here now, and I will take care of you,” he said. “Whatever you may need, I will gather.”

“Just this.” Your voice barely carried on a whisper.

“Then here I shall remain.”

Morpheus always spoke softer than you would expect while still containing all the authority in the universe, but it sounded even softer. It held gentleness—kindness—a quality that said, “You are precious to me.”

“What about the Dreaming?” you asked, eyes closed.

“In Lucienne’s capable hands,” he replied without hesitation. You were so considerate of him and his duties, for once, he wished you’d be selfish.

“What if she needs you?” Even as you said this, your arm settled over his lap.

“She has looked after my realm much longer than you will be ill.”

You squeezed him as best you could at the reminder. You didn’t like to think about what had happened to him. Though you met long after that, it hurt to know someone could do that to another being—human or not.

Morpheus had reassured you he had healed. Much of that having to do with you.

“Could you read to me, then?” you asked.

A book appeared in seconds, his voice matching perfectly to the cadence of the lines. It didn’t matter what he was saying, hearing him speak in that hypnotic rumble was enough. Even the flipping of the page didn’t distract you. He was captivating from the first word.

He’d read two chapters when your stomach growled.

“When did you last eat?” His smile was soft, thumb grazing your arm.

You shrugged, not wanting to be scolded.

“Can you eat?”

You weren’t sure if it was how shitty you were feeling, how tired you were, or how helpless you felt, but his words went straight to your heart.

He considered how you might feel. He wasn’t pushing you to eat, but asking if you thought you could stomach anything. He wanted to help, but not at the risk of causing you more discomfort.

You nodded, keeping your eyes closed so he wouldn’t see them watering.

“Here.” He helped you sit up before picking up the bowl of broth that had manifested on the nightstand.

You went to grab it, but he tutted, picking the spoon up himself and bringing it to your mouth.

“I can feed myself,” you said after swallowing.

“I know,” he said. “Please. Let me help you.”

You ate the next spoonful without complaint, and soon, the bowl was empty.

“Thank you,” you mummered, head nestled into the crook of his shoulder.

“It’s late, you must rest,” he whispered into your hair.

You shook your head, and tried to snuggle yourself closer to him, like if you planted yourself firmly enough, he wouldn’t be able to leave.

“Haven’t seen you in forever,” you mumbled. “Don’t wanna waste it.”

Guilt flooded Morpheus. He knew he had been neglectful of you, but you had been so patient with him. You were the embodiment of understanding—and he had taken advantage of that.

“Go to sleep, dear one. I will meet you in the Dreaming.” His lips pressed to your crown.

You hummed, head growing heavy.

And when your eyes opened, there he was, holding you as you laid in his chambers.

He smiled fondly, brushing your chin with his knuckles.

“What shall we do now, my love?”

Taglist: @sayumiht, @hatterripper31, @snowsatsu, @1950schick, @navs-bhat, @bookshelf-dust, @sapphireonline, @fictional-hooman, @steph-speaks, @ladyredstar1991, @secretdreamlandmentality, @ababycake, @morpheuss1mp, @boofy1998, @alice-the-nerd, @herfantasyworldd, @poemfreak306, @tronnily, @commanderfreethatdust

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on.

258 notes · View notes

marie-swriting · 5 months

Text

What If - Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Masterlist

Summary : After having an accident, Jake wants to live in the moment even more and take your relationship a step forward, but do you ?

Warnings : Bradshaw!Reader (Reader is Bradley's younger sister by two years), mention of plane accident, mention of deaths (parents and best friend), fear of losing loved ones, proposal, angst, sad ending, implied struggling with mental health, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 4.6k

French version

Song inspiration : Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift

You run in the hospital hallways, searching for room 322. Your anxiety increases with every step you take. Your destination seems unreachable. Your eyes are filled with tears but you hold them back. However, the second you walk through the door 322, they run free on your cheeks. Seeing Jake’s body laying down on the bed, hurt, doesn’t help to reduce your stress. Hearing you walking in the room, Jake gives you a big smile as if he didn’t almost die the day before. You get closer to him, examining him a bit more while wiping your cheeks. His left arm is in a sling, his head is bandaged and he has several cuts on his face.

“So, I heard you like bad boys,” Jake starts with a cocky smile, “is this good enough for you?”

“Jake, this is not the time to make jokes. You could have died!” you retort, sitting on the chair next to his bed.

“And I didn’t. I’m here and alive.”

“And hurt.”

“The fact is I’m alive. Thanks to your brother.” he specifies, showing Bradley with his chin.

“At least, we now know who is the best pilot.” your brother jokes.

“In your dreams, Rooster, I just wanted to test your ability to react quickly.”

“You’ll do your pissing contest later, tell me how you’re feeling.” you ask, still panicked.

“I’m fine. I almost don’t feel anything thanks to the meds. Y/N, I am fine, really.” Jake promises you, taking your hand with his right one.

“I’m gonna leave you alone.” Bradley informs you by pressing your shoulder. “Get some rest, Hangman.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” Jake says once you’re alone.

“Trust me, it’s not just worrying. I really thought… For a moment, I was sure…” you stutter, a tear rolling down your cheek again.

“I know, I’m sorry. Come here.” he invites you, moving in the best way so you can lie down.

“No, I might hurt you.”

“I don’t care.”

Reluctantly, you get closer to the bed. You think of the best way you could get in bed without hurting him. Jake rolls his eyes before dragging you towards him with his abled arm. You find yourself next to him and you put your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his natural scent and the hospital.

“Don’t ever do that again. I can’t lose you.” you mutter.

“You won’t lose me. I promise.” Jake affirms, forcing you to look at him. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Jake.”

You give a small smile then you press your lips against Jake’s. Your kiss isn’t as passionate as it could be, yet it shares all the love you feel.

Once the night comes, you refuse to leave Jake. You literally beg the nurses to let you stay the night. At first, they insist on you leaving, nonetheless when you explain how scared you were to lose your boyfriend and how you can only stay in San Francisco for two days due to your job, they accept. Therefore, you’re currently on the chair in the corner of the room with a thin blanket. Jake wanted you to stay with him on the bed but you said you wouldn’t, you are afraid you might hurt him while sleeping. Your unimportant argument lasted thirty minutes but you stood your ground until the end.

Tired because of his medicines, Jake fell asleep in a few minutes. As for you, you stay awake, watching his chest rise and fall at the rhythm of his breaths. You don’t dare to look away, fearing that by doing so, he might stop respiring.

Notwithstanding, with the hours passing by and with all the emotion you felt, Morpheus comes to embrace you in his arms. At first, your sleep is relaxing though as soon as you start dreaming, your breathing quickens. You see Jake lying on the ground unconscious, you hear your own heart-rending scream when Bradley tells you about an accident, you smell the rain while the coffin sinks in the ground, you touch the tears on your fingers whilst you’re wiping your cheeks and finally, you feel your own heart that seems like it stopped beating in your chest.

You wake up jumping at that last sensation. You calm down your breathing while you stare at Jake, wanting to make sure he’s still alive in his hospital bed. You can’t see his chest moving, you panic then you stand up from the chair and run to him. Jake lightly opens the mouth before closing it several times and then changing position in the bed. Seeing him moving makes you sigh in relief.

Jake is okay. Jake is alive. Jake is not dead. Jake will not die.

No matter how many times you repeat those sentences like a mantra, your anxiety still doesn’t leave your body. Tears threaten to really stream down your face so you discreetly leave the room. Thankfully, the corridor is empty, allowing you to cry your eyes out. You hold back sobs as much as you can. If you sobbed, you would wake Jake up for sure.

You need a moment to calm down your tears. Seeing Jake hurt because of his work in the Navy overwhelmed you so much for several reasons. The first one being because you love Jake and you don’t want to lose him. The second one is because of the buried memories. Your dad died when you were still a baby and Bradley was only two. You don’t have memories of him but you know how much his death affected your mom. The loss of your father isn’t the only one haunting you. You also lost your best friend Lucy. You had been friends with her since you were four years old. You were inseparable until she enlisted in the army and died at twenty.

Receiving Bradley’s call about Jake gave you a glimpse of what your mother and Lucy’s mom went through, a trial you always hoped you’d never face.

Once you're sure you won’t fall apart, you go back in the room. By some miracle, Jake didn’t hear you leaving or entering, probably because of the medicine - normally, he’s a light sleeper. You walk back to the chair and stay awake the whole night, you don’t want to sit through another tragic scenario made by your brain.

The next day, you stay with Jake until the evening. You don’t want to leave him behind in the hospital, however, you have work so you don’t have a choice. Bradley promises you he’ll stay with Jake until his family comes during the week-end and he’ll keep you updated on Jake’s health. You only trust Bradley for this, you know Jake might not tell you everything to not worry you.

When you’re back home, you find your apartment dull. What is supposed to make you feel better can’t comfort you whilst in your mind, you get more lost in your deepest fears. The fact you’re in the process of moving out doesn’t help.

Jake and you are supposed to get a small house together. You should have the keys in two weeks, his deployment was supposed to be over by then. A few days ago, you were still looking forward to leaving your apartment and living with the man you love and now, you don’t know anymore.

Your relationship has always been exceptional, not only because he’s a good man but also considering that, before him, you wouldn’t allow yourself to date an army man. You always knew your mother as a half empty shell so you always wanted to protect yourself from the same deadly fate and the loss of Lucy didn’t help either. You’re already worried about losing your brother and Maverick, whom you consider as your uncle, you don’t want to risk losing your partner, too. Therefore, you had always refused to fall in love with a man like this. Before, you could do it until Jake appeared in your life; just like his personality, his entrance in your life was loud. You tried to resist it but your heart didn’t give you a choice so, for the first time, you broke your own rule. Your relationship with Jake is the most beautiful one you’ve ever had and you have no regrets about it. You used to have no regrets about it. His accident was a good reminder of how dangerous his job is.

Until you came home, you tried to shut down your fears and your doubts though, now, in your half-empty apartment, you can’t ignore it anymore. That night, you can’t sleep, your mind too busy to torture you.

Unfortunately for you, your mind doesn't give you one second of peace. The following days, you doubt your whole relationship with Jake, imagining the worst case scenarios in which he’d die during several milestones : your first house together, your wedding, pregnancies, anniversaries. The list never seems to end. You can’t be optimistic about it. You’re completely lost in your worries to the point where you end up living like a robot. You’re making yourself sick while anticipating the worst.

Your downward spiral is interrupted a week later by a knock on your door one morning. At first, you ignore the noise, comfortably staying in your discontent. However, when the person insists, you leave your bed and open them, not without sighing, annoyed. You’re about to tell the person to leave but the presence of Jake stops you. He wasn’t supposed to come back to San Diego right now and yet, here he is, in front of you, a big smile on his face and his left arm still in the sling and his wounds on his face starting to fade.

“Jake? What are you doing here? You still need to rest!”

“I know, I wanted to see you though and I couldn’t wait so I took the night train at the last minute. Can I come in?” Jake asks and you let him in, still surprised.

“Why didn’t you call me? I could have come during the weekend.”

“I wanted to surprise you. You’re okay ? You look under the weather.” he observes, stroking your cheek.

“I should ask you this, you’re the one who almost died not even a week ago.” you answer, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m better, Y/N. Even Bradley told you so. The recovery is gonna be long but I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I love when you go all mother hen. It’s cute.” he says, kissing your cheek and you let go of a laugh.

“You’re an idiot. Let’s go to the living room.” you invite him, starting to walk. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No. I just want to talk to you.” Jake informs you.

“About what?”

You frown when he prevents you from sitting on your couch. He slowly strokes your hand before taking a deep breath.

“Look, you know I always try to enjoy the present and with this accident, it really made me realise how precious what we currently have is. I don’t want to waste any seconds, I want to enjoy every moment with you. There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a moment now but I would keep telling myself it might be too early so I always pushed it back then I talked about it with my mom and she convinced me to jump in with both feet.”

“Jake, what do you mean?” you question, stress twisting your stomach.

“Y/N,” Jake resumes, looking deeply in your eyes, “since the second I saw you, I knew you were the woman made for me. I knew you were worth the fight, even if, at first, you wouldn’t pay attention to me. You’re the most intelligent, funny, compassionate and beautiful woman I know. We will have our own house soon and I can’t wait to reach this milestone with you but I’d love for us to reach another one.” he confesses, putting one knee down and your eyes are wide open.

“Jake.”

“Y/N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

“Wh-what ?” you stutter and Jake nervously laughs.

“Will you marry me?”

“Are you serious?” you question, dropping his hand.

“Huh, yes, I even have the ring.” he specifies, taking out the ring from his pocket, “Though I gotta admit, I think of saying it’s just a joke right now, you’re making me nervous.”

“I’m just surprised. I don’t know what to say.” you defend yourself.

Your eyes are set on Jake’s ring. You’ve seen it before. He’d shown it to you the day you first met his parents a year ago. It’s his great-grand-mother’s ring. It’s simple but you find it beautiful.

“It’s easy, say yes or no.” Jake replies with an anxious smile.

“Jake, we’ve only been together for two years.” you argue and Jake stands up.

“We don’t have to get married next year. We can be engaged for several years. We can wait before calling each other husband and wife, but I have to admit I’d love to, at least, call you my fiancée.”

“Jake, I can’t.” you end up saying.

“What, do you have a first husband in your attic or something?” Jake laughs and you see the panic in his eyes.

“No, I can’t marry you.”

Your sentence sounds like a fatal blow in Jake’s ears. He stays silent, staring at you without understanding what’s going on. He gets a grip on himself when his phone rings in his pocket. Jake knows it’s his mom. She knew he was going to propose today and she is impatient to call you her daughter-in-law. However, it looks like it won’t be the case. Jake opens his mouth several times before managing to utter something:

“What? Why?”

“I… I can’t.”

“But I love you, we love each other. You love me, right?” he asks, doubtful.

“Of course I love you, Jake, more than I ever loved before.” you promise him, making him frown.

“What’s the problem then?”

“I don’t want to marry you.”

If your first refusal already seemed awful to him, the sentence you just said is the final blow. The fact that you don’t want to marry him breaks his heart. He’s lost. It was supposed to be a joyful moment and yet, the ground is falling apart under him.

“What? Did something happen? Did I do something? I… I thought everything was fine between us.”

“It is.”

“Y/N, you have to stop being vague, I don’t understand anything.” he retorts with a strong tone. “What’s going on?”

“You should leave.”

“No, We have to talk about it. You can’t tell me you love me then tell me you don’t want to marry me. Talk to me, Y/N, you have to talk to me. Give me a reason, at least.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” you answer, avoiding his eyes.

“If you explained to me, maybe I’d understand. Are… Are you breaking up with me? Is that why you haven’t been calling me lately?” he questions, desperately searching for an explanation for your behaviour.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot and I think it’s best if we stop right now. I’m sorry, Jake, but I can’t keep being with you. You’ll find someone with whom you’ll share your life with and who will want to marry you.”

“I want it to be you.” he says with a weak tone, tearing up.

“Jake, please.”

“Very well then.” Jake accepts, hurt in his eyes.

Jake turns around and at the rhythm of his steps, your heart breaks whilst you’re looking at him walking to the door. You begged him to leave and yet, you only want to scream at him to come back to you and to hold you in his arms while you apologise. Yet, you stay silent. Jake doesn’t look back when he closes the door.

Once you’re alone, you fall down on your couch. In your head, you convince yourself it’s the best decision. After all, you should feel relieved, now, you don’t have to worry about losing Jake because of his job anymore. Nevertheless, your mind is not calm. You don’t know which way to turn but for different reasons. You wish it was different, it was easier, he had another job, you weren’t afraid. You spend the night crying while removing every trace of Jake in your apartment and unpack some boxes. You have to move on right now before you lose yourself a bit more.

You haven’t talked to Jake for three weeks. He tried to contact you but you ignored every one of his calls. He first wanted to fix your relationship before understanding it was too late, though he wants explanations, explanations you keep for yourself. You don’t want to tell him, you know it’s ridiculous. Why end a relationship given a potential “what if” when everything is fine? However, you also know if you had moved ahead with Jake, you would have ended up sabotaging your relationship. Technically, it’s what you did though at least, you didn’t have to call lawyers to leave his life.

Bradley tried to call you, too, and just like for Jake, you ignored him. Jake probably told him about your break up and Bradley, always being the honourable man, wants to fix the situation. Except the situation can’t be fixed. You don’t want to fix the situation.

When you come back from work that day, you’re surprised to discover your brother at your doorstep. Without thinking, you run in his arms. Sure, you’ve been ignoring him lately but you missed him. The last time you saw each other, you were too focused on Jake to pay attention to him. He holds you in his arms and strokes your back. As soon as you break your embrace, you let Bradley in. You go to your kitchen while talking about banality. Whilst walking, Bradley pays attention to your apartment and notices there isn’t a picture of Jake anymore. Once you’re sitting at the table, you stay silent, waiting for who will be the first to talk about the subject.

“We should talk about the elephant in the room, don’t you think?” Bradley says after a few minutes.

“There’s nothing to say.” you retort, tensed.

“Y/N, you threw away a two years relationship for no reason.”

“I have my reasons.”

“Which are? Jake is probably curious to know them.”

“If you came here to make things better, you’re wasting your time, Brad’.”

“You can’t act like that and expect to not justify yourself. You were happy with Jake, you love him and you broke up without giving a warning. I have to admit when he told me you refused his proposal, I was shocked. I thought you were gonna say yes without hesitating.”

“You knew?”

“He asked me before coming here. I confess, I laugh at him, I didn’t expect him to ask for your hand or give me a heads-up, like he said.” Bradley informs with a smile, thinking back to the memory. “Everything was good between you two, wasn’t it? So why?”

“It’s better like this. He’ll have a wife who knows how to stay and I won’t suffer.”

“Wait, is all of this because of the parents and Lucy?” he questions, understanding the reason. “You’re still with this stupid no-dating-army-guy rule? I thought we were over with it! Y/N, you can’t ruin your life just because you’re scared.”

“I don’t want to end up like mom! You can’t blame me! We were kids but you can’t deny there was a before and an after with mom. She wasn’t laughing like she used to, she wasn’t smiling like she used to. She was the shadow of her former self. I don’t want to go through this if Jake were to die.” you confess.

“It’s because of his accident, isn’t it?”

“It reminded me he could die at any given moment with his work.”

“Just like he could die off-duty. He can have an accident, have a heart attack, choke while eating. You don’t know what will happen in the future. You can’t condemn yourself ‘cause you’re too afraid he might die while flying. It’s ridiculous.” Bradley affirms, resolutely.

“I’m already afraid of losing you and Mav’ and I already lost Lucy and we lost dad, I don’t want Jake to join this list. Can’t you really blame me? I’d rather protect myself by not being afraid everytime my boyfriend goes to work.”

“Let’s imagine the worst were to happen, don’t you think it’d be better to think you spent every second with him? You’d rather live with regrets? You’d rather break your own heart?”

“At least, I know why I’m hurting.”

“Y/N, you have to think about it again.” he sighs. “You have to get out of your head that the worst will happen. You can’t prevent yourself from being happy because of what could happen. You deserve a beautiful life and to be with Jake. I never saw you this happy before and it kills me to see you throw it away because you’re scaring yourself.”

“The problem is I can’t help it,” you start with trembling lips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it when we first got together then it got better. However, since his accident, it’s been worse. Since your call, I keep imagining what could have happened and what could happen and I’m tired of it, Bradley. I’ll never get rid of it and I hate it but that’s how it is. Believe me, if I could change, I’d do it right now, but I can’t.”

Bradley hugs you as soon as he sees you crying. He holds you against him until your tears stop a few hours later. His heart aches seeing you hurting this much. He knows you’ve always been more affected by your father’s death. Being the youngest, the emptiness you feel about your dad has always been stronger. It got worse with Lucy’s death. That day, Bradley really saw you get broken. He hated every second of this moment of your life. He hates seeing suffering like you currently are. Several times, Bradley tried to help you, he advised you to go see a professional but you’ve always refused. Until now, he had hoped your fears would ease with time, yet, your relationship with Jake just proved him it got worse and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s completely distraught whilst he keeps holding you against him, hoping to give you some kind of comfort.

Two months have passed since your break up. You take it day by day to heal your broken heart. Bradley tries to stay with you as much as he can while Jake isn’t surrounded by anyone. He prefers to wear a mask and pretend your negative answer isn’t hurting him. Nevertheless, the second he’s home alone, his mask falls and he allows himself to feel all his pain. Jake, who has always done it, manages to fool everyone with his fake cocky smile. Almost everyone. Coyote sees right through him.

That night is no exception. Sitting at the counter in the Hard Deck, Jake is drinking his third alcoholic drink. Jake has isolated himself from the rest of the Dagger Squad, saying he’s tired and wanted to be alone. Though, Javy doesn’t let him be in the doldrums. He sits on the stool next to Jake and orders a beer from Penny. Coyote gives him some minutes of peace before speaking.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Coyote doesn’t even need to specify for Jake to understand. Your relationship has been a taboo subject for two months.

“Not really.” Jake says, taking a sip.

“You should.” he replies while Penny hands him his beer. “Do you at least know why she made this decision?”

Jake didn’t tell anyone the reason for your fallout. He feels humiliated enough by your harsh refusal to his proposal, he wants to bury the end of your relationship and never talk about it again. Though Javy is right, Jake knows he has to open up.

“Rooster talked to her. Turns out she doesn’t want to marry me because she’s scared I might die on-duty.”

“Did your accident scare her that much?” Javy questions, taken aback.

“It was the final straw but she’s always been scared apparently. I mean, I suspected it, you know, seeing what we do for a living, it makes sense. She also lost her dad and her best friend in similar circumstances. The problem is I didn’t know those deaths affected her that much. Anyway, there is nothing else to say.”

Coyote doesn't say anything for a moment, taking in the information and the way might have felt when he learned them.

“Well, she would have made such a lovely bride. What a shame she’s fucked in the head.” he says, ignoring what else to say.

“She suffered and she doesn’t want to go through this pain again, we can’t blame her. I’m not saying she should stay lost in her fear, it’s not healthy though, I get why she does.” Jake states before taking a deep breath and finishing his drink in one go. “I just wish she would trust our love more than her fears.”

Once he comes home, Jake sits down on his couch, sighing loudly. He runs a hand on his face, emotionally drained. As soon as his hand lands on his thigh, his eyes find a picture hung beside his TV that he didn’t have the strength to remove. It’s a photo he took at the beginning of your relationship, more precisely the day you told each other ‘I love you’ for the first time.

You had spent the day at the beach during summer. The sun was setting down whilst you were laughing at a stupid sentence Jake had said. He had stopped laughing before you, admiring you while you tried to calm your laughter. Then, Jake had looked deeply in your eyes and he had said those three words so simple and yet, so powerful. You had replied the following second with a big smile on your face. Before leaving the beach, Jake had asked to immortalise this moment. Thinking back on it, it was cliché and cheesy but Jake didn’t care. For you, he would have done the most cliché gestures if it could make you break a smile.

Jake keeps staring at the picture, your relationship running in his head. Without noticing it, he tears up before the tears stream down his face. It’s the third time he cries since your break up. The first time, it was the night of the proposal after he went home and the second time, when Bradley explained to him the reason behind your ‘no’.

Jake has never been good with his emotions. Between his education and his work in the army, he’s never learned to put words on his pain and to accept being vulnerable. With you, he had succeeded to understand himself better and to open up. It was still complicated despite two years together but he had improved. Now, he is back to square one. He’s back to his shell, running away from his emotions. Though, it doesn’t mean his mind isn’t haunted by 'what if's. What if he never had this accident? What if he had seen right through your fears sooner? What if he had managed to reassure you? What if he had managed to convince you to get the help you need? What if everything was different?

As for you, the questions are similar. Every night, you torture your own mind before crying yourself to sleep whilst looking at the spot where there once was the picture of your first ‘I love you’ before you ripped it off from your bedroom wall just like you ripped off both of your hearts from your chest.

Masterlist

267 notes · View notes

hardly-an-escape · 9 months

Text

one of the things I just adore about Dreamling fanfic is how we play around with Dream's names, especially in human AUs.

like, Hob is almost always just Hob Gadling, often with a funny/cute explanation for why he goes by "Hob." maybe he goes by Robert/Rob/Robbie depending on who's talking to him, or maybe his surname is some variation like Gadlen or Golding, but it’s still pretty recognizably based on Hob/Robert Gadling.

but Dream? boy, all bets are off. and I love it. every time I think I've seen every possible iteration of Dream/Morpheus/Murphy/Oneiros/Endless, somebody pops up with something new. I’ve seen versions of his name translated into other languages or made to sound English-but-vaguely French/Italian/Greek. I myself have made a vaguely Dutch-sounding version of “of the Endless” for a human AU.

it’s just such a fun little bit of creativity and I love how everyone seems to have their particular preference depending on the nature of the AU or just on vibes.

#reblog with your favorite versions if you feel so inclined - I would love to see them!#the sandman #dream of the endless #dreamling #hob gadling

279 notes · View notes

thepromptfoundry · 2 months

Text

The prompt theme for April 2024 is April Flowers!

Grab your garden gloves, dig out your vases, and check out a book on Victorian flower language! (And click the list image for higher quaility while you're at it.)

If you use this list, please tag me here @thepromptfoundry, I’d love to see your writing and art!

Feel free to combine different days' prompts with each other, or combine them with other seasonal events! Use your OCs, your favorite characters from media, whatever tickles your fancy.

Respond to as many prompts as you want or as interest you, don’t worry about missing or skipping any. Remember, this is supposed to be fun!

If you have any questions or musings, check our FAQ, and if you don't find your answer, shoot me an ask.

Plain text list below the cut:

1 Daffodils Yellow and/or white Associated with springtime and good luck, white ones also associated with death

2 Roses Wide range of colours, including red, white, pink, yellow, orange, and combinations thereof Associated with various forms of love, romance, respect, apology, and congratulations

3 Wisteria Usually purple or blue, sometimes pink or white Associated with longevity and fortune

4 Bird of Paradise Orange or white Associated with freedom, faithfulness, and regality

5 Cherry Blossoms Pinks and/or white Also known by their Japanese name “sakura” Associated with springtime, love, femininity, and mindfulness

6 Sunflowers Usually yellow, sometimes with orange or red Associated with the sun, longevity, loyalty, vigor and vitality

7 Bleeding Hearts Pink or red with white, or white Associated with love, heartbreak, and compassion

8 Hydrangeas Range from blue through purple to pink, white, or green Associated with gratitude, unity, regality, good fortune, and love (particularly for pink blooms)

9 Gardenias White or cream Associated with trust, hope, peace, secret love, and the Greek god of dreams, Morpheus

10 Poppies Red or orange, or less often yellow, pink, white, or black Associated with sleep and death, peace (white), prosperity (yellow), oblivion and loss (black), remembrance of WWI (red)

11 Lilacs Purples, blue, or white Associated with lost love, new love, reflection, and tranquility

12 Coreopsis Colour range from yellow to deep red, often bi-coloured Associated with cheerfulness, gratitude, friendship, and happiness

13 Allium Most often purple or white; also burgundy, yellow, and orange Recognizable as garlic flowers Associated with patience, unity, courage, and protection (such as against vampires)

14 Bluebells A range of blues and purples, occasionally pink Associated with everlasting love, faeries, enchantment, and gratitude

15 Honeysuckle Yellow, white, pink, or red Associated with love, trust, playfulness, and respect

16 Geraniums Red, pink, or white Associated with affection, passion, clandestine meetings, purity (white), and foolishness

17 Morning Glory Blues and purples, pink, red, white, or yellow Associated with young love, unrequited love, renewal

18 Sweet Pea Extremely wide range of colours including pink, cream, red, purple, and blue, but not yellow Associated with farewells, brides, playfulness, and romance (especially red blooms)

19 Buttercups Yellow Associated with youth, playfulness, and happiness

20 Passion Flowers White with purple or blue Associated with strength, hope, care, and the crucifixion of Jesus

21 Hollyhocks Pink, white, red, yellow, or purple Associated with prosperity, privacy, ambition, abundance, congratulations, and encouragement

22 Echinacea Most often purple; also red, pink, orange, yellow, or white Associated with health, healing, wellness, happiness, and elegance

23 Lotuses Wide range of colors including pinks, purples, red, orange, yellow, blue, white, and black Associated with beauty, purity, spirituality and spiritual enlightenment, love (red), tranquility (blue), authority and power (black), and gentleness (pink)

24 Black-Eyed Susans Yellow or orange with a dark brown/black center Associated with friendship, optimism, resilience, and support

25 Hibiscus Wide range of colours and colour combinations, often including red, pink, yellow, and/or white Associated with Hawaii and other tropical areas, prosperity, womanhood and (feminine) sexuality, friendship, and love

26 Lavender Most often purples and blues, sometimes cream or pink Associated with calmness, tranqility, devotion, sleep and dreams, clarity of mind, and France

27 Wallflowers Wide range of colours including orange, yellow, red, pink, and purple, multiple colours of bloom may appear on one plant Associated with faithfulness between lovers, friendship, being overlooked, and shyness

28 Larkspur Purple, pink, blue, or white Associated with protection, dedication, first love, ambition, and respectability

29 Jasmine White or yellow Associated with purity, respect, sensuality, motherhood, devotion, and beauty

30 Dahlias Pink, white, purple, blue, red, and “black” (very dark red) Associated with grace, strength, resilience, commitment, femininity (pink), change (blue), and betrayal (black)

#the prompt foundry #april flowers 2024 #prompt list #writing prompt #writing challenge #art prompt #art challenge #flowers #floral

140 notes · View notes

withoutyouimsaskia · 20 days

Text

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

GIF: Originally posted by @simply---words

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dubious/non consent. Language. Kissing. Nudity. First time. AFAB + AMAB penetrative sex. Unprotected sex.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Hello there! How are you all doing? Thank you so much for sticking with me on this. I always hope I can get chapters out quickly and it always turns into 2+ weeks... Special thank you shout out to my IRL bestie @theviridianbunny for giving the chapter a once over ❤️Much love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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

Morpheus' eyes glint like onyx stones under firelight as he waits for you to yield. His breathing is as laboured as it was when you initially laid eyes on him, and with each exhale you are exposed more and more to the intoxicating scent that rolls off his alabaster skin.

One hand is braceleted around your wrist, thumb swiping back and forth over the veins there that jump frantically, the other steadies the solid appendage that nudges temptingly against your opening.

"I can see that you want this," he intonates proudly. "Your physical reactions inform of me all that I need to know."

Your attention darts down to the markers that are broadcasting your arousal: first to the hardened peaks of your nipples, and further down to blushing labia framing your swollen clit. Morpheus follows the same path with predatory meticulousness.

"Oh, yes, those reactions are delightfully obvious. Most of all here."

He drags the tip of his erection in a teasing circle around your entrance and smiles sadistically when you stiffen and whimper in response. He brushes his nose against yours, the playfulness of the gesture juxtaposed entirely by his next sentence.

"Your sweet enticing cunt, gushing as it prepares itself for entry."

If you could close your legs to shield yourself from further embarrassment you would, for his dirty words only add to the wetness that he has observed between them. It's now running onto the silk sheets, mingling with the pre-cum that drips from his poised cock.

Morpheus continues to speak, "But I would know from even more subtle signs: the shade of the flush on your chest, the curl of your toes, the arch of your back." He dips his head, breath feathering over the shell of your ear as he whispers, "You want penetration."

He is right. Of course he is.

The desire to be filled is powerful - a base instinct that is relentlessly chiselling away at your resolve. You swear you can hear a voice in your head chanting with every proverbial swing of the hammer:

Do it. Do it. Do it.

A conflicted whine pushes past the clench of your teeth.

Morpheus has fallen silent, his tongue tracing a scintillating path directly over your jugular, an action that makes you automatically twist to offer more of your neck to him. He doesn't oblige, instead he moves his head lazily and stares you down once more.

How was he so good at playing with you like this?

The question spends little time unanswered; the Maiden's words from the tail-end of your conversation with the Fates bounces to the forefront of your brain. "He has been made to be perfect for you."

It's the whole soulmates thing.

Speaking of the soul, to make matters worse, the ache in your chest is returning with ire. It appears that the touch of his skin is no longer enough to pacify the pain. A flash of recognition musters in your mind from the near-imperceptible sudden knit of Morpheus' brows, the tautness in his own chest; subdued cues that he shares this affliction.

You reach out with your free hand and spread your palm across his sternum, feeling the fierce shuddering there that matches yours.

His soul.

It is under the same stress as yours. He had said he could feel the sub-epidermal heat like you but had made no mention of this. Supernatural being or not, Morpheus is grappling with pain and it will simply not do.

Your eyes flick up, your decision made in the next heartbeat.

"I surrender."

Quicksilver flashes through those blackhole irises and with an exultant groan he sheathes himself within you.

You screw your eyes shut and cry out, amazed by how far he is able to push in before he meets resistance. The overstimulation you had been predicting is absent, as is the agony you feared would accompany it. It's just the involuntary constricting of your channel that you contend with, a metronome swinging between discomfort and enjoyment.

"Look at me," Morpheus commands in that velvet voice.

You comply, and when you do you see that his eyes are blue again. A pair of cerulean pools; tranquil, somewhere to shelter. If only you could relax enough to slip into those waters. There's so much tension in your jaw and balled fists, inside you.

"Breathe," he coaxes, guiding you with tenderness, a hand reaching hold yours to give it a grounding squeeze.

You inhale slowly and shakily, mouth forming a shape of surprise when the muscles slacken and allow Morpheus to sink those last few centimetres within you.

The agony inside your chest ceases and from the small change in Morpheus' posture, you intuit that his has too. Heat like a solar flare envelopes you head to toe and the weight of his lustful stare only adds to the pyre.

"Mmm, that's it," he praises huskily, putting a forearm flat on the bed next to your face. "You feel divine, Y/N."

You nod zealously, unable to concur in any other way as he has robbed you completely of sentence forming. Your walls flutter as you adjust to the stretch, the feeling of this beautiful being bottomed out inside you. Your soulmate, exactly where he needs to be.

Morpheus makes the first move; a languid roll of his hips that grazes every place inside you, and releases breathy moans from you both. Your grab onto him, the spot where neck meets shoulder, as your mind scrambles to process the pleasure. With this initial test completed, he studies your expression, looking for any indication of a wish to stop. He finds none. Only a pair of expectant eyes overflowing with desire for him to keep teaching you like he promised.

He begins to rock into you with lavish, sensual thrusts. Your cunt unfurls even further to ease his movements; you are a moonflower, blooming under the night sky that overlooks the chamber, under his celestial form.

Remembering how much he liked it before, you move your free hand to play with his hair, eliciting deep-seated shudders all down his spine. It is joyous to inspire another such visceral reflex and you feel it pass through into your own body at each point of contact.

If he is a sculptor, you are the clay yielding beneath the presses of his body, shaping you into something entirely new - a lover. Just when he has you in the desired form, he changes everything.

He slows to a stop, still tucked safely within your warmth and secures his hands around your calves to bring them around his slight waist. You're not sure how it's possible but the change in elevation makes him feel even thicker.

His eyes are becoming darker again, gaze centred steadfastly on your face as he once more restrains both your wrists against the midnight coloured sheets. The semiotics give an unmistakable clue to his plan.

He's going to fuck you like he said he wanted.

You brace as he drags his cock back, and then he delivers a bruising thrust, animalistic grunt sounding low in his throat as the jut of his hip bones imprint into your flesh. A measure of dark lust is shot into your bloodstream and immediately you yearn for more of this roughness.

"Please," you say breathlessly.

He indulges you with a barrage of hammering thrusts, moans tumbling from your lips with abandon as warmth settles in your skeleton. His own vocalisations of pleasure syncopate with the completion of each thrust. The sound takes residence in your brain, his touch in every cell. The wish he had to occupy you in entirety is being granted.

You only take your eyes off him for a handful of seconds to look at the place where your bodies are joined, where he is slamming into you, the obscene image of it.

It's like he is an open flame and you are being doused in 99% proof vodka; the fire under your skin is so intense that your moans transform into screams. Morpheus consumes them all with the sudden seal of his mouth over yours.

The smothering action unlocks something inside you. In your chest, where your soul resides, it is vibrating aggressively, much more than it has done in the course of the evening thus far.

Morpheus notices the surge in the shaking and pulls back from the kiss.

"We must be close," he muses.

You feel the orb writhe in retaliation to his statement and your whole body does the same involuntarily.

"Shhh," he says in baritone purrs, pausing in his movements to soothe you. "A little longer and then I will breach the last defence about your soul."

His tone is confident as he restarts the powerful pace he has set, "I will not fail you."

He is stormy waves against a sea wall, bringing with it both the promise of blissful inundation and the threat of drowning. Yet you wouldn't mind drowning in him. A deep-rooted impulse tells you it would be an honour to lose yourself to the King of Dreams and Nightmares.

Your conclusion translates to the contraction of your calf muscles as you pull Morpheus tighter against you, deepening the physical connection to him as well as the emotional; choosing to submit fully to this somewhat scary situation - the tying together of your souls.

Pulling him closer, it's not without cost. The extra exertion, the deeper angle he can now reach, with all the pleasure it brings, quickly takes its toll. You are becoming weaker, his determined expression growing blurry, the edges of your vision field greying and closing in. You can't tell if you're about to climax or pass out.

Morpheus, observant and empathic, interlaces his fingers with yours and grips them tightly, clearly intent on keeping you here, not drifting off into the dimension of unconsciousness. Your returning hold is just as strong, perhaps a tad on the side of overtly vehement, but if it is then he doesn't seem to care. He just keeps railing into you, the warning signs of an oncoming orgasm beginning to daintily pulse through your walls.

A long-fingered hand reaches between your bodies to hover over your clit. With the last of your energy reserves, you arch up into his fingers, determined to reach your high, instinct telling you that it will somehow aid Morpheus in his endeavours.

He grunts sinfully in approval at your enthusiasm and uses the pad of his index finger to stimulate you, a familiar instruction issued as your soul jolts sharply, shockwaves rocking your bones.

"Let go."

The way he says the words, coupled with the movements of his hand and cock brings on the most intense orgasm you have ever experienced.

Five, ten, fifteen, twenty seconds elapse where your muscles are clamping down, desiring to keep his still-moving length as deep inside as possible. You loudly say his name, pleasure devouring you whole as you look adoringly into Morpheus' indigo eyes, before you are devastated by a snapping sensation as he breaks your soul open.

You are splintered and for a measure of moments, the exposed edges of the shards threaten to turn your insides to ribbons. Your brace for lacerations is short-lived; his essence, like liquid lapis, pours in to bind the pieces of your soul. Melding with you on a metaphysical level. Waking you from the mortal life you had and greeting you with a new path.

While you have no basis for comparison, an errant thought occurs to you that what is transpiring between you and Morpheus is fulfilling something of unfathomable importance. Something that was borne far from this room, in both the measures of space and time. Primordial. Inexorable. This linking of your soul with his is the culmination of what the Fates have wanted for millennia.

And once your soul is content, your essence begins to reach out in return. Like tender shoots drawn towards solar light, your soul stretches past its boundary to embrace his.

It's the final trigger that allows Morpheus to find his own release. His mouth jumps in astonishment, eyes turning black, then silver, then blue; a broken groan echoing around the low-lit room as he buries his pulsating cock deep inside you and spills his seed into your cunt.

You keen from the warmth of it, and you swear the fast paced breaths he is taking sound like melodies carried on ocean breezes.

The stars above you have been joined by dancing swathes of green and purple - a depiction of the Aurora Borealis at its finest. It swells with each inhale that Morpheus takes, his state having a direct effect on the sky. The colours catch the high points of his face, glowing vibrantly on his cheekbones, nose bridge and cupid's bow.

You wonder if this is the most beautiful sight you will ever see. The perfect face of your ethereal soulmate, framed by celestial splendour, gazing at you with the same devotion that you are casting towards him. But then he smiles. A small, genuine smile that makes your heart soar despite its fatigue, and it's clear that there will never be anything that can compare.

Morpheus then lowers his head to your chest and presses his lips to your healed soul.

"You are complete," he declares.

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

Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines

Blinding: "Felt it in my fists, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids. Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs. No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone. No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden. No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love with the wrong world."

110 notes · View notes

lostelfwriting · 2 months

Text

Bury Me with a Rose, We Both Have Thorns (Prologue)

Rating: Explicit

AO3 Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Death & Dream, Dream & Hob, Dream/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Death of the Endless, Hob Gadling, Jessamy, Matthew, Corinthian, Lucienne

Additional Tags: NO Major Character Death, Hanahaki Disease, Terminal Illnesses, Thoughts about death and dying, Decaying Health, Refusing Treatment, Strong Language, Unrequited Love, Enemies to ?, Past Minor Characters Death(s), Protective Death of the Endless, Doctor Human!Death of the Endless, Alternate Universe - Human, Tattoo Artist Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Flower Shop Owner Hob Gadling, Blood, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word count: 32k

I'm posting the whole work here on the 1st of March, but I strongly reccommend you read it on AO3, where I will be posting one chapter per day. Either way, click Read More or go to AO3 to read the Prologue!

Written for the event @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang. With beautiful art by @five-and-dimes!

It is a slow day at the studio, so while he is waiting for his next appointment, Dream is – like he does almost all of his free time – sketching new tattoo designs to add to his portfolio and listening to music loud enough to completely shut out his own thoughts. He is sketching a snake, having no doubt that it will catch someone’s eye. There is always someone who wants a tattoo of a snake. He pauses to look at his progress and ends up snorting in disbelief.

The drawing is truly a snake, but the reptile is weaving among the stems of flowers instead of a dead branch like Dream had intended. And they are ugly flowers at that. He is pretty sure that he gave a pot of those flowers to his secondary school teacher, who always called him Murphy, even though he hated that nickname. He can’t resist snapping a picture of the flowers with his phone and trying to look up what they are, but once he finds the name – cyclamen – he refuses to look up their meaning. It would surely be something stupid, like forbidden love, or maybe hopelessness.

Even the snake’s scales seem to actually be made of flower petals, and Dream rolls his eyes as he flips the page of his sketchbook. The downside to trying to tune his mind out is that he doesn’t notice when his subconsciousness begins to interfere with his process, and it has led to many flowery paintings in the past months. With a sigh, he starts copying the usable parts of the design onto another page until an insistent thought makes him pause mid-movement.

Just a few weeks ago, he would have been furious if this had happened. He used to tear those ruined sketches to pieces and then go outside into the late winter chill and glare at every passing person who dared to look his way. He wished they all felt as bad as he did, and most of all, his neighbour with his shop opposite Dream’s studio, with its bright, flowery logo.

Today’s drawing incident feels like just a small inconvenience. He feels zero anger, though he might still opt to destroy the sketch later, just for the miniscule satisfaction that the action will bring him. Or maybe he will keep it. Pin it to the wall next to his bed and look at it every night. He will look at the ugly flowers and realise with wry amusement and aching hollowness that he has finally accepted his fate.

He, Morpheus Endeles, is going to die.

He thinks about it and waits for anger or grief to appear, but they don’t. Good. He was getting sick of the self-pity. It has been months since he noticed the first symptom – the occasional cough – as something seemed to tickle his throat, easily blamed on a bit of dust. And then, a bit later, when he lay awake late at night and everything around him was quiet, he heard the soft rustle of leaves as he breathed. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that he had the Hanahaki Disease. He tears the ruined sketch out and shreds it into tiny pieces, enjoying the bit of satisfaction that it brings him. Maybe he is still harbouring some badly suppressed anger. He doesn’t need a fortune teller to tell him that he has no chance of getting affection from the person he hopelessly loves. Because it is his neighbour, the owner of The White Rose, Robert Gadling, a straight man who rightfully dislikes Dream.

+*+*+*+*+

Cyclamen: resignation and good-bye

#my writing #bury me with a rose #centennial husbands big bang #dreamling #hanahaki disease #angst #happy ending

85 notes · View notes

cuubism · 1 year

Text

@magnusbae challenged me to write smut using professional email language, and i'm nothing if not a slut for abusing corporate jargon!

-----

>> Saturday, March 26, 8:32pm – Morpheus <morpheus @ dreaming.com> to Office (All):

Subject: TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

I do not appreciate tardiness. Cease your dallying at once come Monday morning. Or there shall be consequences.

>> Saturday, March 26, 8:41pm – Hob <robert @ dreaming.com> to Morpheus:

RE: TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

Morpheus, mate, all due respect, what with your being the sole god, ruler, and iron-fisted authoritarian of the place, but do you have nothing at all better to do than send work emails on a Saturday night?

And before you say, "but Hob, you yourself are replying to emails this Saturday," you are so right! I’m currently drinking alone :)

>> 8:42pm – Morpheus to Hob

I should fire you for such insolence.

>> 8:47pm – Hob to Morpheus

Do it then :)

Alternative proposal: we commit several HR violations like we did in the office on Thursday.

>> 8:50pm – Morpheus to Hob

All proposals must be submitted to me in writing.

>> 8:52pm – Hob to Morpheus

You really want a paper trail?

>> 8:56pm – Morpheus to Hob

It has an email trail already, does it not?

>> 9:05pm – Hob to Morpheus

Please find attached my detailed proposal.

attachment: :)_version_1.docx

>> 9:07pm – Morpheus to Hob

This is twelve pages that only say, “I want to suck your dick.”

>> 9:09pm – Hob to Morpheus

What, have you got edits or something?

Do you need more time to review? Wanna circle back on it later? Block some time on my calendar to go over it? ;)

>> 9:15pm – Morpheus to Hob

My redline is attached.

attachment: :)_version_2.docx

>> 9:17pm – Hob to Morpheus

I’m amenable to those changes.

But on second pass I think we can accomplish more in this partnership. I think I’d like to take you apart slowly, have you begging. You’re always demanding, I think it might be good for you to beg for once. It’s not good business to agree without a little negotiation. I wanna see you beg for my cock.

What are your thoughts on this addition?

>> 9:40pm – Hob to Morpheus

Hi Morpheus, I hope this finds you well. Just following up on this question :)

>> 9:50pm – Morpheus to Hob

Perhaps I am considering.

You may wish to consider that I am your boss.

>> 9:53pm – Hob to Morpheus

I think there’s been a miscommunication. You seem to be laboring under the misapprehension that I give a fuck about that.

>> 9:54pm – Morpheus to Hob

I truly should fire you.

>> 9:55pm – Hob to Morpheus

Don’t you think you deserve to cum first?

>> 9:56pm – Morpheus to Hob

After I beg for it, you mean?

>> 9:57pm – Hob to Morpheus

Now you’re getting it.

If I correctly guess that you’re in your bed, that you’ve BEEN in your bed while you’re “considering,” do I get a gold star? Employee of the month?

>> 10:00pm – Morpheus to Hob

There is no possible universe where you win such an award.

However, your supposition may be correct.

>> 10:02pm – Hob to Morpheus

Excellent, so we’re on the same page, then :)

Are you touching yourself? Are you imagining it’s me touching you instead? Because I’m imagining I have you under me and I’m fucking into your tight hole instead of my hand. (And typing emails w/ one hand is not so easy btw).

>> 10:03pm – Morpheus to Hob

I have two fingers inside me. But it is not enough. I would have your cock.

>> 10:04pm – Hob to Morpheus

I think you know what I wanna hear.

>> 10:05pm – Morpheus to Hob

…Please.

>> 10:06pm – Hob to Morpheus

There’s a good boy.

Don’t worry, love, I’ll give you everything you want. You’re taking me so good, I just know it. Going to feel it for days.

>> 10:07pm – Morpheus to Hob

I am.

Yes

I would have you come in me. If you’re amenable.

>> 10:08pm – Hob to Morpheus

Fuck you make me so hot. Yeah I’m amenable. Will you cum for me first? Can you cum just from the feeling of me inside you?

10:09pm – phone call from <unknown>

“I thought… you would want to hear it.”

“God your voice… did you get this number from the HR directory?”

“What if I did?”

“Kinda stalkery but kinda hot. Are you close?”

“Very. I… I want you. Badly. Please, Hob.”

“I have you, darling. Ah, you beg so pretty. You can come. I want to hear you. Can you do it without touching yourself? Be good.”

“I can’t—”

“I know you can. Go on. Imagine me with you. Holding your hands to the bed so you can’t touch yourself. I can imagine how beautiful you look. I’d kiss you if I was there, wreck your mouth, too.”

“Hob—”

“Go on. For me?”

“Ah—”

“There you go, sweet thing. I wish I could see you.”

“Will you… come for me now? So I can feel you inside me?”

“Fuck—”

“Good. You feel… so good. Worthy of employee of the month, perhaps.”

“Oh, fuck you, Morpheus. You don’t even have awards at this place.”

“Of course I don’t. That would be inane.”

“Are you satisfied with my efforts, at least?”

“I am pleased to say that I am.”

“Still, I think we should probably debrief that meeting. You wanna touch base about it in person? Say… eleven pm? My calendar’s clear.”

“…Yes.”

#wow this is the first smut i finished in ages. no surprise it's the one that's only dialogue. fuck writing descriptions of things XD #dreamling #magnusbae #dreamling fic #my writing #there are so many good ones i didn't get in this. 'bandwidth' 'let's connect on that' 'can you provide some color' etc

434 notes · View notes