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#sandman x reader smut
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heavenly. ~ morpheus x reader (18+)
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Summary: There are no words for how heavenly the sight of Morpheus falling apart underneath you is. II smut
Words: 719
Warnings: smut smut smut
Pairing: Morpheus x fem!Reader
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Head thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted, hair tousled – a memory of your hands gripping it when he slid inside of you –, Morpheus is a sight for the Gods as you move on his lap.
The sounds escaping his mouth when you leave a trail of kisses on his neck are downright heavenly and the way he grabs your thighs, fingers burying themselves into the softness of them, makes you shiver.
The moonlight dimly illuminates his pale face and the stars and galaxies move slowly in the inside of his coat that he spread underneath you. When your name falls from his lips, soft and murmured like a prayer not meant for your ears, he shows you his true essence for the first time, becoming the very definition of a dream.
You lean back, looking for support on his legs, to see him better, to drink up his presence, drown in his sounds, melt in his touch.
“You’re distracted.” It’s a statement or an accusation, you’re not sure but it bothers you nonetheless. You don’t want him talking, you want to hear what sounds you can draw out of the Endless with the simple movement of your hips.
His eyes are now open, hands holding on even tighter. You don’t stop and feel him shudder. “I’m watching you,” you whisper into the night, a smile tugging on your lips. “Not such a bad idea after all, wasn’t it?”
He hears the challenge in your tone, the spark in his eyes tells you and the raspy tone confirms it. “I still prefer you underneath me, my love.”
You roll your eyes and your rhythm changes. You speed up, hips moving in the most delicious way and it makes him fucking moan. “Keep telling yourself that,” you chuckle, knowing full well that he will get back at you for this later on. But now, he is too occupied with the way you feel all around him.
Your breath hitches when he presses you down onto him and his hips rock up. A curse leaves your mouth that turns into whimpers and soft moans as he moves with you. One of his hands travels down but you push it away. He groans.
“Later,” you murmur. Now, you want to see him being lost in you, want to see him unravel. The thrill that rushes through your body feels unreal – it’s the pure thought of the God of Dreams, an Endless, falling apart from your touches, that turn you on even more.
Morpheus is close, you can feel it. His voice grows darker, his moans louder, and in your own body, the knot tightens. It tightens and tightens and when his movements begin to lose control, become more erratic with each thrust, it doesn’t take long for you to see stars in front of your eyes. You come, soft and trembling, back arching and with his name on your lips. He follows you shortly after and fuck, you just know that the image of him will never leave you again.
The waves of your orgasm wash over you and suddenly you lack any strength to hold yourself up any longer. He wraps an arm around you when you sink down to rest on his chest. He’s still breathing heavily, even when his fingers trace lazy lines on the skin of your body. You smile.
“You are awfully proud of yourself right now, aren’t you?”
The smile only widens at his words. “I have every right to be, Dream Lord,” you tease him. “I proved you wrong.”
He laughs silently underneath you. “Did you now?”
“Mhh,” you make and prop yourself up on the elbows. “Admit it, you loved having me on top of you.”
He watches you, mischief in his eyes. “Not more than having you underneath me.”
“As if. I believe the whole Dreaming heard you just now.”
He moves quick. So quick that you can’t help but yelp as he flips you over, pinning your wrists above your head. His lips hover about yours, his breath a ghostly touch, and your heart starts to beat faster. “My love, it doesn’t matter if they heard me. They didn’t hear you,” he murmurs, “and I believe that is the true shame here.”
They hear you after that, Morpheus makes sure of that.
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thank you for reading! <3
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theswordmaiden · 4 months
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The Only one I'd ever Worship
Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader
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first time writing for Lucifer, which has been sitting in my docs for 2 months (:
warnings: NSFW fingering, slight degrading/praise?, thigh riding, slight blasphemy?, etc // word count: 2507
The Lightbringer's hand tightened possessively around your waist, leaving the faint outline of a bruise in its wake — one you'd wear proudly for such devotion. A subtle reminder of who you belonged to, of who owned you, and it was a reminder that you welcomed greedily, relishing in the feeling of being theirs. 
As they mindlessly traced patterns down your body, you couldn't help but shiver from the intimacy of their touch, the familiarity it felt to have their warm fingertips against your cool skin — fingertips molding against you like clay, leaving the faint tingling sensation that nipped at your flesh whenever they pulled away.
Allowing their touch to continue to roam, now crawling up your abdomen, nails scratching against the softness of your stomach, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps in their wake that left you shivering. Lucifer's hands now cup your breasts, kneading and molding them to their touch, a low moan escaping from your lips as you pressed yourself closer to them; a silent plea for more.
As their thumbs traced slow, lazy circles over your hardening nipples, your breath caught in your throat. Trying to suppress any further noises, you tilted your head to the side, sinking your teeth into the sensitive flesh of your bottom lip as they continued their torturous teasing. "What's wrong, my lamb?" They'd coo in faux concern against one of your ears, letting their hot breath ghost down the side of your throat, leaving your skin prickled with goosebumps in its wake. The Devil knew exactly where and how to touch you, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy, allowing you to feel Heaven's call to you with open arms, to welcome you back. . . only to hold you there, teasingly, never allowing you inside the gates of release until they deemed you worthy of such a feat. 
Of course, they'd indulge in your pleasures from time to time, which was how you found yourself in your current predicament; Lucifer sat on their throne, the flickering flames that lined the hall giving them a false halo framed above their head, as you — their most prized possession, the sweetest angel so obediently eager to please your Lord — were perched on top of their lap, grinding your needy cunt against one of their thighs.
"Please," came your pleading voice, heavy with an insatiable thirst of desire, as your head fell backwards against their shoulder, fitting perfectly into the crook they so perfectly provided.
"Hm? Please what, my pretty pet?" they asked with a soft hum, amusement twinkling within their eyes as they peered down at you through long blonde lashes that wisped against the soft pinkness of their cheeks. Lucifer pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing your back against their chest. "Tell me what it is you desire, angel." 
"Please, your Majesty," you'd beg once more, desperate for their touch and the release only they could provide you, that only they could give you. ". . need your touch." Your voice, so full of yearning and longing, so pathetic yet perfect to please your Devilish master with.
The Lightbringer chuckled darkly in a twisted mix of pleasure and power, reveling in how easily you fell into submission for them. They lifted a hand to the side of your face and traced the back of their knuckles down your cheek gently, before roughly gripping the sides of your chin and jerking your head back to meet their gaze. A quiet mewl drew from the depths of your throat at the action, leaving your clit throbbing as your hips continued to eagerly move against them, desperate to seek friction to relieve the ache.
"Look at you," Lucifer taunted, their gaze roaming down every inch of your covered form and back up again. As the Devil's arm unraveled their hold, their hand now found its way to your hip, guiding your movements back and forth into their lap at their own desired pace. "Spread apart for the Ruler of Hell," they sneered, "How desperate are you, silly angel? Such a pathetic pet, so willing to please your Lord."
The hand that was gripping your chin relinquished you, once again turning gentle as their fingertips slowly brush through your hair, tucking away any loose strands that were impending their access to your skin. "Does it feel good, you dirty little thing?" they whispered so softly, lips ghosting across the shell of your ear and moving to the newly exposed flesh of your throat. “To be the only one I’d ever worship?”
Lucifer's chest rumbled with a low growl as they scraped their sharp teeth against the pulse point, sinking into the flesh and sucking on it harshly. Marking you—Claiming you as theirs. Their perfect pet, such a desperate thing you were, weren't you? So pathetic that your hips rolled faster against their flexed thigh as you whimpered in response to their bite, a muffled 'God, yes' pulling from your throat in response to their question as you moaned. . .
. . . only to earn an amused huff from the Demon Lord as they pulled away, leaving behind a mark that they soothed with a soft and tender kiss. "God?" they repeated, the word dripping with bitterness as it rolled off their sharp tongue. "Aren't you just a good little angel, still having faith in Him.."
They leaned in close to your ear once more and whispered, "Tell me, my beautiful lamb. . Do you still pray to him while I play with your needy hole? Do you hope that He and your angel brethren watch as I make you cum over and over again on my just fingers alone?"
Your cheeks burned at the Devil's words, a mixture of shame and arousal washing over you while you squirmed in their lap, brows pinched together as you bit your bottom lip. There was certainly some truth to it, there was no denying that — just as there was no denying how depraved you felt at the thought of Him watching, to see just how low you've truly fallen for your lover. How your stomach fluttered at just the thought of riding their fingers, the walls of your cunt greedily pulsating around their lithe digits, wanting to milk the sensation as long as you could. .
..oh, patience is a virtue, little one. . .
But as the Lightbringer continues to tease you, their touch lowering to the bottom of that pristine white toga adorned on your body, grasping at the hem and gently pulling it up to bunch at your waist, all rational thoughts fled from your mind. All you could think of was them. Their touch, taste, smell — oh, it drove you mad with lust and desire. The throbbing heat between your plush thighs grew, and you were sure, no, absolutely positive, that your underwear was entirely ruined. 
Thinking you've had enough of the torture for now... Lucifer's hands slowly trailed back up your body until they reached your chest once more, squeezing your breasts through the thin silk fabrics that covered them. "Such a sensitive little thing," they cooed, pinching and rolling your nipples between their thumb and forefingers for a moment before releasing. Sliding back down your stomach, their hands then move your legs further apart, nails scratching against the material of your panties before sliding beneath it and through the soft curls of your mound until finally reaching your wet slit.
"Oh, my poor pet," Lucifer purred in delight, enjoying the way you trembled against their touch, causing their leather wings to twitch and flutter proudly behind them on their throne, "you're soaked."
Two fingers swipe between your folds, pulling away just before reaching your swollen clit. As you whined in displeasure, earning a tut from the Devil, they brought their hand up to inspect their fingers — your arousal webbed in between, glistening.They turned to face you, bringing their hand closer to your lips.
"Open your mouth." Your mouth instantly falls open before the two digits now pressed against the velvety texture of your tongue, slowly curling downwards. Without needing further instructions, you happily wrapped your lips around the entirety of them and sucked the tangy taste of yourself off of them, tongue swirling around.
And if you were to peer up at your lover, you'd find the Devil watching eagerly with darkened eyes, a slight twitching just beneath the scar of their lip as a rumbling growl escaped from in between them. They slowly pulled back after a moment, a web of your spit connected from their flesh and your lips, more than satisfied with your obedient nature, now wiping the back of their fingers across your face to rid of your saliva before moving to your clothing.
"I want you to watch, sweet one.." their voice husked against your ear, the darkness of their gaze lowering to your chest as careful hands remove the straps of your toga and unfasten the golden belt, allowing it to cascade down your form like water to gather into a pile of silks on the ground. "..the way I touch my beloved pet." Two long fingers hook around the band of your panties and pull them down with ease, exposing your already pulsating cunt to the warmth of the Underworld's air.
Your hips bucked against the palm of their hand as it returned to your heat, the palm pressed deliciously against your clit as their slender digits spread apart your folds, tracing the tips of their fingers around your entrance and a pathetic whine escaping from your throat that left the Lightbringer chuckling. 
"I love to hear how desperate my little lamb gets for my touch," they coo in the sickly sweet voice that leaves your face warm and a hue of pink blooming across the apples of your cheeks. "Look at how wet you are for me, I've hardly touched you." The Devil spoke so softly against your ear, pressing lazy kisses against the shell of it as they dipped the entirety of their fingers into you with ease, growling as they felt your walls fluttering around them. 
"I could spend eternity between these legs, my darling girl.."
Lucifer's other hand reached up to return to playing with your nipples, rolling the taut buds before giving them a sharp pinch. Their name spilled from your lips as they began to move their fingers in and out, curling it into the spongy sweet spot that left you growing wetter — the sopping wet noises from between your thighs only spurred your Devil further, their pace growing a bit faster while their thumb stretched out to rub tight circles to your clit.
The way they toyed with you only made you more desperate to chase the taste of release, and -you ever so obediently- spread your legs as wide as you could for them. Lucifer purred in delight as they whispered soft nothings into your ear, once or twice pulling their fingers out of you entirely to deliver a quick slap! to your cunt before returning their fingers to where they belonged with a newfound vigor.
“Such a beautiful sight.” “You take it so well. . Like you were created just for me.” “Who does this belong to?” “That’s right. Mine.”
The fire in your body grew as Lucifer's fingers thrust in and out of you with ease, dripping desperately down the length of their fingers and your own thighs. Every touch, every whispered word, sent jolts through your body, building the already growing desire to cum for them higher and higher; always pushing you to the edge before pulling away when you spasmed too much, giving you a minute to cool down before returning right back to relentlessly tormenting the aching Heaven between your thighs. They'd chuckle at each of your mumbled words of protests, only to shut you up by returning to rub against your swollen clit.
"Luci-oh! Please. . ple- please," your poor little mind was too lost in your daze to form a coherent thought, eyes clouded over by a fog of pure pleasure as you mindlessly babbled. "Let me cum, please- please, my Lord." Your body - hell, your entire soul - sang with desire for them to the point it was almost overwhelming, tears building up in your eyes as they oh so cruelly denied such a blissful state to flood you. .
Lucifer could only chuckle, feeling their lips curling into a smirk at the sight of you, quivering and clenching around them. The hand that had been playing with your breasts slid up to gently wrap their fingers around your throat, applying just enough pressure to silently bring your attention to them. "Such a needy thing, aren't you?" they spoke gently, leaning in close so their hot breath fanned across the side of your face. Another squeeze, though slightly tighter, as if demanding a response.
"Yes.. my- my Lord," you somehow managed to form out through the tightness in your throat. "Please.. ah- let me cum," you continued to beg, unable to take the edging much longer.
"Cum for me," Lucifer spoke through ragged breath. "Show me just how much you need me." And with those words, their hand loosened from your throat and held your hip instead, leaving an indent to the flesh, as their fingers grew into a relentless pace. Your body writhed against them, arching off from their chest as your mouth fell open, the most unforgiving of obscenities spewing from your tongue as you grind harder against their hand. 
With one final curl to their fingers that hit the most delectable spot, your orgasm crashed over you. Your entire body shook and trembled as you tightened around them, the Devil slowing their pace to allow you to ride your high, as every nerve grew hot with pleasure until you were nothing but a quivering mess in their arms.
Your legs — still twitching and now aching from the prolonged position, covered in a light blanket of perspiration — fell limp against Lucifer, dangling over the length of their legs and you collapsed back into them. Carefully their fingers withdrew from your slick heat once your breathing evened out, licking their fingers clean before wrapping a wing around you to keep you close. Reassuring praise and hums left their lips as they kissed and pecked at your cheek and down to your shoulder.
"Sh, shh, my darling," Lucifer cooed, gazing down at you with a soft smile as they took in your tired expression. "Such a good girl for me, weren't you? Hm?" You could feel their warm lips against your skin, both soothing and comforting, as you gave a quiet hum in response while you basked in the afterglow from your climax.
As your head rested against their chest, feeling the steady beating of their heart beneath your ear, they continued to hold you; slowly running their fingers through your hair, the sensation making your eyes grow heavier until inevitably falling shut. They'd hold you like this until you woke, only to repeat it all over again for the rest of eternity.
. . though who would complain?
─────⋅⋆.‧₊☆₊‧.⋅⋆─────────⋅⋆.‧₊☽₊‧.⋅⋆─────────⋅⋆.‧₊☆₊‧.⋅⋆─────
this is sick and i need to be put down. immediately. sorry this is horrible it's been a while. you can tell where i got burnt out at the end lol.
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withoutyouimsaskia · 6 months
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Don't Stop (Sandman One-Shot)
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​GIF: Originally posted by @imironstark
Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader
Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Smut. You and Morpheus are in the exploratory stages of your relationship. Morpheus asks to worship you, and all is going well. At least, that is, until you start to wake up...
Warnings: Minors DNI. Smut. Porn with plot. Kissing. Oral sex (AFAB receiving). Slight dominant Morpheus.
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: So I watched Sweetbitter. With my partner. Maybe not the best idea because suppressing the squeaks of excitement whenever Tom came on screen was tough and not always 100% effective! The hyper fixation is still going strong... Hope you enjoy this one. All my love, Saskia xxx
Sandman Masterlist
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It is only when the violent spinning not only stops but holds for several minutes after, does Morpheus make steps in allowing his guard to drop.
He straightens elegantly out of his crouching position, withdrawing his hands from the scree smattered earth. He looks to his left, to Lucienne, who is warily regarding the ground and sky, wondering if they might start to rapidly switch places again.
She meets Morpheus' gaze and adjusts her round-framed spectacles with a steady hand.
"I might be speaking too soon, sir, but I truly think it is over now."
Morpheus takes one last steely appraisal of the horizon, almost daring it to misbehave.
He nods once. "I believe you are correct, Lucienne."
"Will you be requiring anything else from me, my lord?"
"Not at present."
"Very well," Lucienne replies with a warm smile. "I will return to the palace now."
She does a little incline of the head in deference and goes to start the winding walk back towards the glowing lights of the Dreaming's seat of power.
Morpheus calls to his friend.
"I thank you for your persistence in supporting me to resolve these issues. I suggest you take some extra hours to rest."
"I suggest you do the same, sir."
Though her reply is innocuous, the knowing gleam in Lucienne's brown eyes hints at an alternative interpretation, one that Morpheus cannot help but notice.
It was becoming generally well known that he was in the early stages of courtship with a dreamer, you, and there was no doubt that Lucienne was aware of how far the relationship with you had recently gone.
He raises an eyebrow in response, earning a grin from Lucienne and then he watches her walk away.
Once alone, Morpheus allows his eyes to flutter closed as he sifts through the myriad of dormant minds and tunes into the space occupied by yours. He takes a reading of your emotions, thankful to find that you are contented and have not been rendered feeling neglected by his absence.
There's a faint undercurrent lingering below the surface level of your emotions that he is also able to lock on to given the familiarity that you share.
Desire.
They are present, filling you with neediness and longing.
A longing to be touched, to be touched by him.
Morpheus is with you in seconds, appearing in the doorway of the room you have chosen to conceal yourself in.
You are curled up in a large armchair by a panoramic window that frames the mountainous vista beyond. The torches that mark equidistant points along the bridge leading to the palace project a soft gleaming warmth over your skin. You are gazing softly at the landscape, the fingertips of one hand combing through your hair, the others trailing up and down your inner thigh.
Such an innocent yet provocative display. It makes Morpheus' voice drop to an even deeper and more sultry register than usual as he calls to you.
You are out of the chair instantly, meeting him at the threshold of the room. Your heart pumps out an allegro drum beat, the sound of the blood rushing in your ears like a waterfall.
You are pulled into a searing kiss, arms encircle your waist to ensure you are flush against his hips and chest. It is a relief that he is holding you in such a way for your knees are threatening to give out within seconds.
The power he has, in his body, his actions, through his words, in a metaphysical sense; you are helpless against them all.
When Morpheus pulls away from the kiss, you follow him on instinct, aching for more. He smiles faintly at your eagerness but maintains the gap in order to explain his length of absence.
"I must apologise, Y/N. The issue was a little more complex than Lucienne and I had anticipated."
He's looking down with a tint of shame in his aquamarine eyes.
You slide your hands up his forearms, gripping tightly and angling your head so you can capture his gaze.
"There is nothing to be sorry for. Your work and the safety of your dreamers take priority."
He simply nods. Your unwavering understanding is always on the side of overwhelming for him.
You register this in his stance.
"You feel a little tense. I can help with that if you want. Like I did last night?"
You move a hand up to stroke the hair on the back of his head. It is a form of touch that never fails to release tension.
Morpheus indulges in your attentions for a bit, leaning into you and sighing deeply, before staring at you directly with sudden seriousness.
"I cannot deny that what you did for me yesterday was beyond exquisite," He leans in to speak by your ear. "But it is my turn to worship you."
"Oh," you swallow down your surprise. "Okay."
Morpheus wastes no time in guiding you back towards the armchair and sits you on the very edge of the seat pad.
He carefully removes his long sweeping coat and then drops to his knees before you.
His rosy lips are parted, eyes dark pools, both standing out against his beautifully pale skin.
"Where can I touch you?" He asks urgently.
"Everywhere," you reply as the flutterings in your stomach warble your voice.
He begins by trailing his hands up your legs. The patterns he draws are intricate and intoxicating.
"May I have the honour of tasting you?"
"Yes," you consent, breathless already.
You remove your trousers and underwear in the same movement and allow Morpheus to adjust your position.
The image of him looking up at you with lust and intent as he parts your legs is immediately imprinted deep within your memories.
He trails innocent kisses up your left calf to your knee. A long-fingered hand is hooked under it and once Morpheus slips your leg over his shoulder, he continues his path along your inner thigh.
Wisps of his midnight hair tickle your skin and make you squirm in the most delicious way. You whimper when you feel his cool breath hit your pulsing core.
Morpheus speaks your name reverently, a taster of what was about to come.
He leans in the last few inches and kisses your vulva. You melt with an ecstasy-filled exhale. His tongue gently licks at your labia, encouraging them to part and expose your clit. He laps at you with precise strokes before sealing his mouth over the nub.
It's like a direct current has been shot into your body; you jolt into him, moaning his name with abandon.
He hums against you, lips curling into a naughty smirk. You are completely at his mercy and he knows it all too well.
He manipulates your clit between his plush lips and the pleasure reaches a higher ground.
"Whatever you do, please don't stop," you beg.
Morpheus obeys, slowly increasing and decreasing the pressure of his suckling until you are almost unable to think clearly anymore.
Then, suddenly, you are distracted by a strange feeling radiating through your body. You recognise it with immediacy. It's like you are being dragged upwards by a marionette string. You are waking up.
You stiffen, falling silent, hoping above all hope that if you stay still, you can stave off the pull back to consciousness.
Morpheus, noticing your change in demeanour, stops his attentions and pulls away.
He speaks your name in a caring tone, "Are you alright?"
You grab the arm rests in a further attempt to keep yourself in the Dreaming. The sensation isn't letting up.
You respond with haste, "I think I'm waking up. I don't think I can stop it."
Waking had been the cause of cutting short your time with Morpheus many times before. It was to be expected; you were a human being with things like sunlight and birdsong and routines to contend with. The worst had been mid-way through a conversation, one that you were able to pick up again the next time you passed the Dreaming threshold.
Right here while Morpheus was working on you so perfectly, however left you with one thought: Why did it have to be now?
Your surroundings flicker and all sound becomes warped. The support of Morpheus' body and the chair vanish.
"I'm sorry." They are the last words you speak before you disappear.
You come to in the semi-darkness of your bedroom. Your chest is heaving and wetness has spilled onto your pyjamas from the dream of Morpheus lavishing your aroused core.
Your phone is blasting out a morning alarm, its shrillness the clear root of you disappearing on him.
It turns out though, initially unknown to you, that Morpheus was having none of this separation business. That is until you notice him sitting between your splayed legs.
"Morpheus?! What are you -"
"You asked me not to stop, my dearest dreamer," he interrupts, pouring every ounce of seductive energy into the words as he can muster.
Morpheus' eyes bore into yours as he climbs up to fully straddle your body. He reaches over you to turn off the alarm with a precise tap on the screen of your phone. He takes a deep breath.
"Much better," he purrs. The pitch of his voice is pleasure enough on its own, even without the fact that his hips are subtly grinding against yours.
"Now, would you like to resume with what we were doing before we were so rudely interrupted by that repugnant tone?"
You nod.
"Verbal consent, please."
It's suddenly so hard to speak now he is in your bedroom, your domain. You hope that a clear display will be an acceptable alternative. You reach your hands down to rid yourself of your pyjamas only to have each wrist pinned either side of your head.
You gasp.
"I need to hear you say it out loud, Y/N."
Another wave of hot, stifling arousal is released between your legs. You shiver in reaction to it, to his dominance.
Your mouth is open but no coherent words leave it, just the starts of failed sentences. Morpheus comes to your aid:
"Will you allow me to taste you here, in the waking world, just as I did in my own realm?"
"Yes," you breathe. "Yes, Morpheus. Please. Put your mouth on me."
He hums his approval before lowering your shorts and beginning to feast on you once more.
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Tag List: @herfantasyworldd @shadowqueen1318
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thoughtsfromlayla · 2 months
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If I Dream Hard Enough
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Summary: Morpheus' daughter Elise wants you to become her mommy against every odd in the world. Will you?
Notes: ~8.1k words. Happy birthday to @givingmyhearttoyou, this is for you, you fabulous human. Also, this fic was supposed to be like 1k words long and now... well! Hope you guys like it, sorry it took so long
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, ModernAU!Dream, DaughterDad!Dream, slow burn(?), smut, P in V, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, slight angst all comfort, don't worry you guys get together in the end
Masterlist
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You knew of Morpheus several months ago when he stopped at the restaurant you worked at to pick up an order for his daughter. At that time, you didn’t officially meet him, you just thanked him as he left the door as the other two waitresses did. Then for the past few months, he has been a regular, always sitting in your section right after dinner rush. You thought it was planned out by the way the two other waitresses snickered whenever they saw him there. 
You didn’t mind. He was a great customer and always left good tips and he often brought his daughter along. And while she was still young, about 7 years old since the last time you asked her, she was often a highlight of your week. Elise often brings you a wildflower she finds, growing in her garden to bring to you. Each time you accept with a smile and Morpheus is there watching. 
The day that Morpheus came in without Elise, the restaurant was dead silent. The other two waitresses had left early and you were left to defend the shack. So, you sat down with him and had a meal with him. He asked you about your life and you asked about his. You learn that his wife and he had separated after the unfortunate death of their first child and that he works as a psychiatrist for those who have trouble sleeping. He has a pet Raven named Matthew and for Halloween last year, his daughter made him dress up as a scarecrow named Mervin. 
After that conversation, the two of you grew closer as friends instead of your previous professional relationship. The first time that you met with Morpheus outside of work was when Elise invited you to watch her theater performance. She was cast as Wendy in the year’s show Peter Pan and you couldn’t have been happier to come along.
Morpheus had picked you up at 6:30 PM on the dot later that week. You wore something nice and comfortable for the early spring winds. Your heeled boots clacked against the concrete pavement as you made your way from the front door to Morpheus’s car. He was waiting for you by the passenger door, leaning against the sleek black design that matched his outfit well. 
When he saw you approaching, he smiled and offered the door for you. 
“Thank you,” You smiled as you got into the car. It smelled nicely of leather and a hint of McDonald’s french fries, probably a small lunch for Elise before her show tonight. 
“Did you have dinner yet?” Morpheus asked after he put on his seat belt. 
“No, not yet,” You say. It was a bit too early for dinner for you. Plus, you told yourself that the show would only last an hour so, you could just make something when you got home anyway. 
“Great,” Morpheus practically beams, in his nonchalant way. He places his hand on the back of your headrest and looks at you. “Elise wanted to go out tonight after her show, you should join us.”
Heat blooms across your cheeks and ears at how close he was to you. You smell his cologne and you feel like you’re going to go dizzy. But you bravely push through it. 
“Y-yeah, that sounds lovely.” You say, turning your head to look straight ahead. He looks behind you as he backs out of the driveway of your small house. 
When the two of you arrived at the school, it was surprisingly packed. Quite a few other parents were waiting in line to get a spot for their car in the limited parking lot. And luckily, Morpheus was able to find a spot near the middle. When you opened the door, Morpheus was already waiting for you on the other side, he held his arm out and offered it to you. 
“Why, thank you very much,” You smile, going along with it. The wind blew a bit harsher as the sun’s final rays disappeared from the horizon and you subconsciously huddled closer to Morpheus for a bit of extra warmth as the two of you walked toward the school entrance. 
Morpheus removes his arm from you and you frown a bit. You recover quickly, maybe he decided against it, and that’s fine. The next moment, his long wool peacoat is draped over your shoulders. The smell of him envelopes you as the warmth seems through your clothes. The warmth of your cheeks returns and you feel like you’re blushing to the highlands
“Won’t you be cold?” You ask, your hands grabbing at the opening of the coat to keep it closer to you.
“No,” He says and hands the lady a five-dollar bill for two tickets. His arm extends out again in invitation and you take it happily. 
The tickets gave you two some good seats, not too far back and not too close to the stage where you would have to crane your neck for the whole show. Before you took your seat, you took off Morpheus’ jacket and folded it in your arms. Then a lady stops the two of you in the aisle of the auditorium, right before your seats. 
“Morpheus!” She exclaims and walks towards the two of you.
“Oh, Jesus,” Morpheus mutters under his breath and hides it with a cough. “Hello, Becky.”
“Why, I haven’t seen you in years, not since my little William’s birthday those years ago.” She goes in for a hug, all-embracing and big grins. Her hoop earrings jingle with the rest of her jewelry: a big statement necklace, and bold silver bracelets on each arm. She sported a leopard print blouse and her round hips had some brown slacks to match the spots. 
Her hair had large curls, just recently blown out as she flicked it behind her shoulders. When she finally notices you, her smile drops for a brief moment before it broadens again. 
“Morpheus!” She exclaims again, her hands with fresh manicures going up like a surprised red panda. “I can’t believe you brought a girlfriend!”
“Um, she’s not-” 
Becky interrupts him and grabs onto your shoulders. “Let me take a closer look at you, sweetheart.” 
“Uh, hi,” You say as she gleams at you, looking you up and down and nodding. This was awkward. 
“You. Are. A. Gem!” She annunciates. “You know, I was beginning to worry about how long it was going to take this guy to get into a relationship again.”
“Oh… that’s…” You drift off your words, Becky was starting to make the both of you uncomfortable.  
“Let’s find out seats,” Morpheus interrupted us and you couldn’t have been more grateful. Becky nods as well before passing the two of you to sit somewhere near the back of the auditorium. Morpheus leads you with a warm hand on the small of your back. 
Eventually, the curtains draw back and the lights dim. A tiny Elise is in a makeshift nightgown and pretends to wake up from her bed. Almost immediately she spotted you in the audience and the grin she gave you made your heart clench. You give her a small wave and she waves back before remembering she had lines to deliver. 
===
You and Morpheus wait outside the school auditorium with the other parents and friends who came by to support the elementary play. You had fallen into easy conversation while waiting for Elise to get out of her costume. 
“She looked lovely tonight,” You comment, peaking over shoulders to see if she had come out yet.
“She sure does,” Morpheus says by your side and you miss the way he looks at you. When you turn to look at him again, his direction is directed forward instead. 
“Daddy!” A squealing voice giggles as it comes barreling toward the opposite of everything she embodies. Pink and glitter clashed against midnight black and pale skin. A rare smile pulls at Morpheus’ lips at her hug. 
“Hi, starlight,” He pulls Elise up until she is hoisted on his hip and her arms are securely wrapped around his neck. “Are you hungry?”
Almost comically, her stomach rumbles and she hides her face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. The two of you laugh and you place a reassuring hand on Elise’s back. After little debate, the three of you are off to some local Italian restaurant. 
After dinner, which Morpheus kindly paid for, it was well past Elise’s bedtime but the little one was as hyper as if it was only noon. The drive back to your house consisted of her talking about rehearsal, her school days, her lunch yesterday, and a project on magnets that she has to finish by next Wednesday. 
The night ended with Morpheus walking you to your door. You stared at him, the fun you had from the night still evident on your face. You find that your cheeks are starting to hurt from how much you’ve been smiling. 
“Goodnight, Morpheus,” You say, one had already on the doorknob. 
Morpheus answers a few seconds later, almost lost in thought. “Right… goodnight,” He whispers and neither of you realize the unconscious step he takes closer to you. His face leans down and you can see the complicated colors of his eyes. 
You give him one last smile before turning the doorknob, unable to break eye contact with him. Before you could enter your house though, Elise rolls down her window from the back seat and shouts at the top of her lungs. 
“Goodnight Mommy!”
Your face snaps towards her, jaw unhinge and remains gaping open at her outburst. You turn to look at Morpheus, shock still evident on your face and you are greeted with a similar expression. His shoulders raised and stiff and if he were to open his eyes anymore, they might as well have popped out of his sockets.
“Elise!” He hollered from your doorstep. “I’m so sorry.” He quickly apologizes before briskly walking down the long driveway. 
Elise giggles from her backseat and the light heart sound fades as she rolls up her window again. Morpheus stares at her through the tinted backseat window before sighing and climbing into the driver’s seat. He gives a small awkward wave before leaving your driveway for the night. 
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Somewhere along the year that you had known the two, you had caught feelings for the tall brooding act. But, love is difficult and while you love the both of them dearly, it is not his love to accept if he didn’t want it. You wouldn’t blame Morpheus for not being ready for that type of relationship, even if his daughter were to think differently. You overthought to the brink of exhaustion, but time waits for no one. You had rent to pay and customers to serve. 
A couple of weeks after, it was dead again. Just one customer sitting in your section, their refilled drink in your hands. The cool night air blasted through the front door and your heart clenched in your chest when you saw the new customers. Elise stands behind Morpheus, hand holding onto his much larger one. 
When she sets her eyes on you, her eyes glimmer in excitement.
“Hi, Mommy!” She giggles and runs towards you, hugging you around your legs. 
From your peripheral, you see Morpheus sigh and your heart sinks. You adore this child, but at the end of the day, she’s not yours to adore. Your smile drops slightly at the realization. 
“I thought your dad told you not to call me that?” You say to her jokingly, even if, to you, it was no joking matter.
“Well, my daddy says that if I dream hard enough, you will become my mommy.” She states, matter of factly. Her hands release from your legs and prop themselves on her hips. She looks up at you with adoration fit for a king and a toothy smile full of braces. The confession takes the breath out of you and gives you a breath of relief in the next inhale. 
“Is that so?” With a smile, you quirk up an eyebrow and look past her small figure on Morpheus. Blush looks great on his skin, you think to yourself when you see the blood creep up his neck and over his cheeks. 
He avoids your gaze, instead finding fascination in his not-so-new shoes. Wow, they sure look like shoes tonight, he thinks to himself as he puckers his lips in deep thought. You smile at the sight, of a large daunting man turned into almost nothing by his daughter’s comment. 
You seat the two and go about your job for the rest of the night. When Morpheus was ready to leave you bring his check to him and he pulls you aside. 
“Do you have time this weekend?” He asks while taking out his credit card. 
“Yeah, I do actually. My friend canceled at the last minute on some plans we had, why?” You ask back. 
Before Morpheus could respond, Elise pops into your field of view. She stands on the booth, hands propping on the table almost spilling over her kid’s cup of lemonade. 
“Daddy has to go to a… um, conserferants. He’s going to teach other doctors about something he learned!” 
“Yes, that,” Morpheus confirms. “I will be gone for the weekend and will not return until late. Elise wants to know if you would be willing to babysit her?” 
You look between the two, Elise giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster - and it was working. 
“I will pay you, of course,” Morphes quickly adds when you don’t answer immediately. 
“Please, pleeeease?” Elise asks, she goes in for another hug, arms wrapping around your chest at her new given height, and looks at you again with a pout. “Please?”
“Oh, alright,” You can’t say no to her. Squeals fall out of her mouth as she jumps on the booth, the cheap springs squeaking underneath. 
“Here,” Morpheus says handing you a napkin with his home address on it and after a few more exchanges of pleasantries, the two were on their way. You were to be at Morpheus’s house on Friday at 3:00 PM. 
The rest of the week goes by fast, each day that brings you closer to seeing Elise again and taking care of her for the weekend has your heart pounding in your chest. What if you set the house on fire? What if you accidentally serve her a knife in her sandwich or something? These thoughts follow you until you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Morpheus’ house and a trembling finger presses the doorbell. 
When the door opens to tall, dark, and mysterious, it is quickly subdued with the aggressive cawing of a raven. Its black wings spread as it flies onto Morpheus’ shoulder and caws at you again. Confusion clouds your mind for a moment before you remember about the pet raven he mentioned a few months ago. 
“Matthew, right?” You smile and give a small wave to the bird. 
Morpheus sighs and nods. “Yes, but you need not worry about him. He will be coming with me.” 
“I’m Matthew!” It caws and your eyes go wide.
“He talks?” You unapologetically point at the bird as it stares at you with a turned head. 
“Ravens raised in captivity can learn to imitate human voices, yes. Though, I would not go as far as to brag about talking. More like… mocking.” 
He stands to the side and allows you inside. Morpheus’ house was, well, the best way to explain it was an organized chaos. Toys were everywhere, breakfast plates were still on the dining room table, and Matthew’s enrichment toys were in places you never thought a bird could drop things. That being said, the hallways were clean, the house smelled of fresh air, and the interior decoration was deliberately placed. 
Morpheus gives you a quick tour of his house, the first stop being the kitchen, everything has a place and everything is in place. The fridge and pantry were both stocked and you could immediately think of a few easy recipes to cook for you and Elise for the next few days. Next was the joined sun room, and you stared in awe at beautifully displayed stained glass. It shined a rainbow of colors over the entire wooden room. Ivy plants swung from the ceiling and sunlight covered floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in a coat of warmth. 
The rest of the tour was simple, Elise’s room which was an explosion of pink and ocean blue with Barbies and legos on the floor, and lastly Morpheus’ room. 
“You are permitted to stay in my room.” He says as he enters the space with you following closely behind. The entire room was based around a midnight blue color which you found comforting. It was neat, unlike a certain daughter’s, and has a lone suitcase sitting on the bed, already packed and ready to go. 
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” You’re quick to interject. The king-sized bed and soft duvet call your name, but it felt personal. And are you that personal with Morpheus yet? 
“I insist,” He says, hand on his suitcase and Matthew swoops down to stand on the box instead.
“No, really, I can sleep on the couch or-”
“I insist,” He repeats and it didn’t seem like much of a choice. 
“Fine, you’re very persuasive, you know?” You joke and you see his lips twitch into a smile for a moment. 
The squealing of rusty wheels and then the collective commotion of children stop your tour a bit short and the front door bursts open to giggles. You knew that laugh like the back of your hand, and you both went into the living room to greet Elise. 
“Daddy! You’re still here!” She exclaims and throws her backpack onto the couch, the shimmering glitter of princesses catching briefly on the sunlight from the large windows. 
Her hands reach up and does a grabbing motion to which Morpheus picks her up and props her on his hip. It doesn’t last long as she soon lands her eyes on you. 
“Mommy!” She squeals in excitement and starts squirming in her dad’s arms until he relinquishes her.
She barrels her way towards you and launches herself into you, giving you no choice but to grab and pick her up so she doesn’t slam into you. She’s soon holding on to your neck as you hold her and your smile grows bigger. 
“Elise,” Morpheus warns and at his sudden shift of tone, Elise buries her head into your neck, knowing that she got in trouble again for calling you that. The mood of the house sudden brought down and seemingly so did the temperature. 
You hold onto her tighter as Morpheus’ frown deepens. “Elise,” He calls out again, this time his arms folded over each other. “We’ve talked about this.”
“La, la, la, I can’t hear you,” She murmurs into your neck, holding on tighter to you. 
Morpheus sighs and comes closer, placing a hand over her back, and starts rubbing smooth circles. Wetness soon coats your skin as you realize that Elise has started crying. Her trembling shoulders and hiccups were soon to follow and you and Morpheus shared a concerned look. 
“I want a mommy,” She chokes into your shirt. “She’s my mommy…” 
Morpheus and you share a look again. His face was apologetic and worried at his daughter’s sudden confession. Children have no filter and what they say is what they mean. How can you leave her like this when she so clearly expresses what she wants?
“Okay, Elise,” You soothe as you pet her hair. “Let’s say goodbye to Daddy first and then we can grab a snack.” 
Elise peaks out from the little hidey-hole of your neck and gives a small wave to her dad which he reciprocates. Morpheus leans in close to the point where you can smell his subtle cologne and aftershave and he gives a quick peck to Elise’s hairline. 
“Be good, Elise. I’ll be back in a few days.” He says and brushes her hair away from her face to reveal red eyes and a runny nose. 
“Bye Daddy,” She says back but doesn’t find the courage to meet his eyes. 
He sighs again before going into his room to grab his suitcase. You follow him to the door, Elise still latched onto you, but now her breaths have evened out. 
Morpheus looks back when he’s just outside the door, storm clouds are rolling in and you can smell the petrichor in the late spring winds. He gives you another look of concern to which you simply nod in understanding. Matthew caws impatiently as large drops of rain start to make their descent. 
“We’ll be fine,” You say as an unconscious hand wraps around Elise again.
Silence is shared between you two, an understanding that there is going to be a heavy topic to talk about when he returns. Until then, Morpheus comes closer and wraps his long arms around the both of you and you stand there stiff. You feel the warmth of his lips press to your cheek before he pulls away. 
He doesn’t explain and instead turns away quickly to get into his car, leaving behind the shocked look on your face. The two of you stand at the entrance as you watch him pull out of his driveway. Elise waves a small hand goodbye as he disappears down the street in fog and rain. 
When Elise sees the last glimpse of her father’s car leaving the horizon she slides off of you and walks to the kitchen. She sits patiently at the kitchen table when you find her again. 
“Can I have a snack?” She asks and swings her legs back and forth. 
The sudden change in her emotions gives you a bit of a whiplash but did as she asks and made her a small snack. After which you clean up the kitchen a bit while she munches away. When she was done, she asks for some help on her weekend homework which you didn’t help much, just guided her back to the paper when her thoughts started to wander. After homework was a simple dinner of chicken parmesan and then you sent Elise off to shower. 
The rain still hadn’t let up and continues to pelt down in harsh drops against the roof. The longer it goes on the more you grow anxious. You never did well in thunderstorms, rainstorms were fine, but as soon as you heard that boom of thunder, you were nothing but a child again, hiding underneath your bed. The monsters under the bed were less scary than the bright flash of light across the sky. 
When Elise comes back out to the common areas after her shower, freshly scented with bubblegum body wash, she finds you in the sunroom. The once cozy space grew cold when the weather changed. You huddled yourself against the corner and stare out the window, absentmindedly looking at the wildflowers that grew in their backyard. Thoughts cloud your mind just like the weather outside, and just like the rain slamming against the glass, you were beating yourself over.
Morpheus seems adamant about not letting Elise call you her mother, so that means he must not want you to be her mother. Your feelings for him had bloomed into something more over the months that you had known him. You subconsciously began chewing on your nails, some odd habit that you still haven’t broken since your high school years. 
Maybe, it would be best for you to stop being friends with Morpheus. You could never ask him to make that kind of decision and instead make that decision for him. It would be easier for both of you, you told yourself - lied to yourself if you wanted to be honest. 
The tugging motion on your shirt pulls you out of your thoughts. Elise stares at you, hair still wet from her shower, and now cozy in her pajamas. 
“What are you thinking about?” She asks you and climbs into your lap. 
Your hand goes to her back to support her as she makes herself at home. 
“Adult things,” You reply vaguely, hoping that she takes the answer. She doesn’t, because of cause she doesn’t. Elise is too bright for her age.
“Is it about how daddy doesn’t like it when I call you mommy?” She questions.
A sharp inhale comes into your lungs as you stare at her. After a few silent seconds, you respond simply. “Yeah.”
A few more seconds go by.
“Do you… want to be my mommy?” She asks again.
“...Yeah, but I don’t think your dad would allow it.” You confess to her. Guilt clouds you, someone as small as her shouldn’t be in the middle of all of this. 
“I want you to be my mommy, too.” She yawns this time and her eyes begin to droop. She leans her head against your chest and her breath starts to slow. 
“I know,” You whisper and when you look at her again, her eyes are closed. You kiss her on her forehead and pet her hair. A sigh leaves you again, decisions, decisions. 
Picking up Elise carefully to not wake her, you make your way to her room and set her carefully in her bed. You tuck her in, extra tight, and turn to leave her room. 
“Mommy,” She calls out groggily.
“Yes?” You say as you turn your attention back to her, kneeling so that you are on the same level as her. 
“I think,” She yawns again. “I think daddy thinks he doesn’t deserve to have a mommy… after what happened to my brother. I think he thinks he did something bad, so he can’t have something good again.” 
Yeah, she’s too bright for her age. 
“Let’s not think about it anymore tonight,” You conclude the conversation with another forehead kiss and she falls back asleep. With one last look at her sleeping form, you leave the room, leaving the door slightly cracked, just in case. 
Your shower was just how you liked it, but your thoughts come back to haunt you in the quiet house. The thoughts follow you, nagging you, as you unpacked your clothes and stacked them on top of Morpheus’s drawer. It still hasn’t left you alone when you changed into your sleepwear and did your face routine. 
You stare at the large empty bed and sigh. It was still relatively early, only 10:00 PM, yet your bones were tired and even though Morpheus said you could use his bed, it still felt wrong. The couch was just fine, but who were you kidding? You climb into the bed and pull the blanket up to your chin. 
The bed smelled like him, the pillows smelled like him, and everything reminded you of him. Perhaps this was a mistake. Oh, but the bed was so comfortable and the rhythmic splattering of the rain lulls you to sleep before you even knew it. 
You wake up to a phone call, and the blinding light makes you squint at the notification. Morpheus was calling and your heart rate skyrockets. You answer and put the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?” You greet and even you can hear the grogginess of your voice. It made you cringe for some reason. 
“How are my girls?” He responds.
Morpheus’ voice is something else and it makes you giddy. It certainly made you feel like a teenage girl again, wanting to kick your feet and scream while running around the house. His voice was somehow better over the phone. Tired, low, and seductive almost - you could fall back asleep to it. 
“We’re doing good,” You start. “Elise has been asleep, homework’s done and all that.” You update him. “How’s your conference?”
“It’s tomorrow, so I can’t say yet.”
“Mhmm,” You reply and you feel sleep tugging at your eyes again. 
Morpheus keeps talking about his day, something about giving Matthew to another friend to look after and the drive to the next few towns over. The words go through your ears on one side and out the other as his voice lulls you to sleep. 
“Are you asleep?” You hear him say from far away. You don’t have the energy to respond. A few seconds later, on the verge of consciousness, you hear his voice again. 
“Goodnight, my dove.”
The three-tone dial is the last thing you hear before you finally release the last of your waking hours. 
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The next day, the rain still hadn’t let up and you ended up driving your car into the garage so as to not have any damage done to it. Elise was bummed out as she was supposed to go to the local park with her friends from school, but for obvious reasons, it was canceled. The two of you ended up making a pillow fort in the living room and watching Barbie movies for the rest of the day. It was low maintenance and cozy and everything you’ve ever wanted, not that it would have been much different if you were home by yourself instead. 
Elise hadn’t brought up the conversation you two had last night and you were grateful for it. The insights that the kid’s little brain could understand were astounding to you. She spends the day glued to your side while singing along to the movie’s songs and eventually falls asleep mid-movie with a cold popcorn bowl in her lap. 
You carry her back into her bed just like the night before. This time watching her sleeping form for a little while longer. After which you went back to the living room to clean up. There was a tough teriyaki sauce stain that was stained onto one of the blankets in the pillow fort that you ended up just throwing into the laundry instead of trying to spot clean. While the laundry runs, you put away leftovers and cleaned up the dishes. 
After the chores are done, you find yourself in the sunroom again, finding it ironic that the two times you have used it were when the sun was away. You run your hands across the spines of the many books that Morpheus kept. Many of them were scientific journals on the mind as you would expect regarding his job. A few were fairytales for Elise and a few seemed to be picked up from local libraries or garage sales. 
You select one from random, a short novel about a princess who sets out on a quest against the Greek gods to find her missing brother. An easy enough read for tonight, you think to yourself. You find annotations from handwriting that you didn’t recognize as Elise’s or Morpheus’ and come to the conclusion that it must’ve been his ex-wife’s. A bittersweet conclusion that he kept her books all this time.
Her handwriting was beautiful and so were her thoughts. They were eye-opening, sweet, and romantic, and through her annotations, you come to love her as well. If it were a different world, you would’ve loved being her friend. 
You are on the last few chapters of the book when your eyes became droopy. You set down the book, hoping to pick it up again tomorrow morning, and head to take your shower. The warmth of the shower only solidifies your tiredness and was a great way to relax your muscles before you grudgingly climb into bed, hair still damp as it hit the pillow. 
Everything about you was tired, but that damn rainstorm just had to test its luck and turn into a thunderstorm. You lay on your side, paralyzed, pulling the blanket as high as it can over your chin without suffocating you and squeeze your eyes tight. You imagine the blanket was the arms of your deceased mother hugging you again. You think of summertime by the lakeside, flowers blooming and butterflies flying. Your father is fishing on his small boat and is trying to catch something fresh for dinner. You think of your mother in the lakeside cabin making freshly baked bread and your breathing slows. You could relive this moment every day if it only allowed you. 
You’re playing with the weeds that grow by the stairs of the cabin porch, ripping at them and releasing the earthy scent, throwing them off into the lawn when you were successful. Your palms had several thin cuts from stubborn weeds that didn’t want to be uprooted. 
The smell of rain is heavy in the air as the temperature cools drastically and storm clouds roll in. Your father tries one more time to catch something and lightning cracks amongst the horizon. The wind picks up and creates aggressive currents along the lake, rocking his boat back and forth. You hear your mother shouting at you to get inside the house as cold, fat drops of rain pierce your skin. But your eyes don’t leave your father’s boat and soon your mother joins you on the porch, hand shielding her eyes to look out. 
Lightning strikes the lake, blinding you, your mother screams and thunder booms and hearing is lost. One moment your father is on the lake and the next he isn’t. The boat is on its side before the water fills it and drowns it, too. 
Your mother moves past you in a blur and you follow quickly. The rainwater mixes with your tears, hot and cold, running down your cheeks. You scream for your father, choking as the water comes into your airway instead. Is this what your father felt as he drowned? All you saw was your mother, in her perfect summer dress that stuck to her figure double over on the dock as she screamed, the rain drowning away all of her grief. 
A terrifying boom jolts you awake into a sitting position, your heart pumping at a mile a minute. You feel sweat coat along your browline as you lay back down, the back of your hand over your forehead. You hadn’t had that dream, or more accurately, that memory in a long time. You find the courage to get up and head to the connected bathroom to splash your face with some cold water in hopes of calming yourself down. 
You are so consumed by your own thoughts, that you don’t see the tall figure standing in the middle of the bedroom. A scream crawls up your throat before another lightning bolt lights up the room, making you jump as the thunder follows. You could recognize the disheveled hair anywhere. His confused face relaxes as he realizes that you are still here. 
You swallow some air, pushing your own feelings aside for a moment. “What are you doing back so early?”
“We were sent home early in regards to the storm. It would have been too dangerous to travel the next day,” Morpheus explains. On cue, another crack of lightning follows his words. 
“Well, welcome home,” You say, hospitality gone from your system at the late hour. You grab a pillow from the bed and head out the door. 
“Where are you escaping to?” He asks.
You quirk an eyebrow, not entirely understanding the question. “The couch?” You answer with a question as if it should be obvious. He’s home so he should be using his bed. 
You think you see his jaw tick at your answer but you’re not sure due to the dark. Another strike of lightning had you stiffen and you walk out of the room without another word. You managed to lay back down with a throw blanket that was in a basket near the couch and cuddle with yourself as much as you could. The blanket didn’t provide as much warmth or heaviness as the comforter did. 
You toss and turn back and forth but no matter how you position yourself, tiredness nor comfort found you. The thunderstorm had gotten worse and after much debate with yourself, you give in with a huff. You grab the pillow and hug it to your stomach as you stand and make your way to Morpheus’ room. 
You give a quiet knock and open the door, feeling almost childish at how you are going about this. You should have gotten over your fear a long time ago and yet here you were, standing vulnerable in your pajamas, staring at Morpheus as he sits up in his bed.
Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. They’re lodged in your throat at what they’re about to say. Before you can find the courage to do so, Morpheus speaks for you.
“Are you afraid of the thunder?” He asks. 
You nod your head yes, and the grip on the pillow increases. 
“Do you want to spend the night with me?”
You nod again. 
He lifts the blanket on his side that you took the pillow from and you slip in. Warmth envelopes you immediately and you let go of a restrained breath. You turn to him and whisper your thanks as you face each other, your body deflating as stress leaves it. Silence fills the air and awkwardness follows after. Sleep is on the back of your mind and it tugs hard for rest. Your fear gets the better of you and you’re left lying awake, looking at Morpheus’ sleeping forming. His breath is rhythmic and his face is peaceful. A deafening boom of thunder jolts you and a small shriek leaves your lips. Unconsciously you snuggle closer to Morpheus and his eyes snap open. 
He feels you shaking and wraps a protective arm around your figure, one hand snaking under your neck to wrap itself around your head. He brings you closer to him as if shielding you from the raging thunderstorm outside. 
“Shhh,” He hushes as the rain pelts against the windows. “I am here.”
Your fingers are clutched to his shirt, knuckles white when he speaks to you. At another crack of lightning, you pull yourself closer to him, bracing yourself for the boom of thunder that follows. His hands cover your ears and you feel the sting of tears threatening to fall. The rain continues and after a few long minutes of only rain, you relax again. You lay in the comforts of his arms as you realize the thunder had stopped. Sleep pulls at your eyelids again and with a hiccuped breath you close your eyes. 
Morpheus’ cheat rises as he inhales before he speaks. 
“I am consumed by thoughts of you,” he confesses in the dark light of the night. Lighting cracks far away and you almost miss the confession. Is he trying to distract you? The thunder that follows isn’t as loud as your beating heart. 
He lays still with you over his chest and you hear the way his heartbeat accelerates. When the words finally, finally, register in your head you perk up and look at him. 
He opens his eyes and tears form along the bottom. “I cannot deny it anymore. Everything of me is filled with you. Your laughter, your scent, your voice. It has filled the crevices of my heart and healed the wounds of the past.”
You whisper his name, nothing else comes to mind for his confession. You sit up now and he follows after with his legs on either side of you. You cannot bear to look him in the eyes, his love for you is too strong to face head-on in the middle of the night. His fingers run across your back and you can’t deny the goosebumps that follow after. 
You feel his lips, just as warm as the first time, on your shoulders and he leans into you. He peppers kisses up your shoulder to your neck and you lean your head away to give him room. His arms snake around your waist again to hold you still, feeling the leftover tremors from the passing storm. 
“Tell me to stop and I will stop,” He promises in a whisper in your ear. 
His voice, oh so heavenly, has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “No, don’t stop,” You assure breathlessly. His hands slip under the thin fabric of your shirt and move upward, fingers featherlight and ticklish. Heat shoot straight to your cunt at his administration and your nipples perk as he runs a cold finger over them. His other hand travels lower and brushes against the rim of your shorts. 
He stops, only to continue when you whine in rebuttal and grind your ass into his front, feeling the heat and hardness of his arousal. Your heat clashes with his cold fingers as he runs them along the length of your slit. A moan escapes you at the feeling, it’s been too long since you last had a good sexual experience and your fingers are just not the same. 
His fingers part your lower lips and another runs circles around your clit. You clench around nothing, head thrown back and leaning against his shoulder as he continues. He’s stopped kissing you now, just watching your expressions trying to figure out what you enjoyed most. 
You needed more, something, anything. Before you could ask for it, he sinks a long finger in and your mouth falls lack. His hand comes to cover your mouth, muffling the wanton moans that fall out shamelessly.
“Shhh,” He hushes against your ear, sending shivers through your body again. You feel his teeth nibble at the shell of your ear, something so simple, and yet it felt so perfect. 
You feel his lips tug into a smile as your cunt clenches around his finger, to which he adds another, moving them in and out, in and out. His pace was calm, and collected, but you’re greedy. You want to bargain with him, another finger? His mouth on your cunt? How about a little bit of everything?
“Do you want more?” He asks, his voice low in timbre like the faraway thunder that rumbles. 
You nod, a small squeal leaving your lips as his fingers push up into your G-spot. You hear him groan behind you when your tongue darts out to lick his fingers that cover your mouth. He nips at the junction of your neck before he backs away. 
“Turn around for me, dove,” He directs you with a hand. 
You find yourself on your knees and you want to place your head back down on the pillows but Morpheus stops you.
“No.” He holds you up, his body flushed against your back. “Like this,” He pulls you up and holds your hand on the headboard, his fingers intertwining with yours as he keeps you there. 
His lips follow your spine, kissing down, inch by inch. His hands leave you and go to pull down your pajama pants, leaving the heat of your core bare to the cold late-night air. Your back arches as his fingers find themselves into your cunt again and you feel the wetness of your pleasure dripping down the back of your thighs. The rapture feeling makes your head dip down, but you don’t dare to let go of the headboard as Morpheus had instructed. 
Morpheus’ hand comes around your mouth again when your moans grow louder, your eyes roll to the back of your head as his fingers grow slicker and faster. You find yourself at the brink of your orgasm, cunt spasming as you clench on his fingers and your fingers gripping hard on the headboard, knuckles white, and head thrown back. Morpheus’ hand leaves your lips and gently wraps themselves across your throat, gently restricting the air that you want to breathe. White and blinding lights flash across the back of your eyelids as the searing pleasure of your orgasm shakes through your core. His fingers slow down as he helps you ride through your orgasm, leaving you panting and spent. 
You feel his lips against your ears again, whispering sweet nothings to bring you back down to earth. Your teeth are still buzzing from the orgasm when you feel something hot and hard press against your entrance. He presses forward and you feel the pressure of it, but he doesn’t enter, not yet. You’re shaking your head no, mumbling for recovery from your previous orgasm. 
“I can’t, not yet. I can’t,” You plea between pants. 
“Yes, you can, darling. I know you can,” Morpheus says. He runs the pad of his finger down your spine, making your ass perk up higher into the air from the sensation of it. “Yes. Just like that,” His praise continues. 
He sinks into you and the stretch is foreign. He’s girthy, bigger than you have taken before, but it’s not too uncomfortable. He has you panting without him even starting to move. He stays still as you squeeze your cunt around him and you’re further spurred on by his groans. Morpheus silences himself by pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, fingers intertwining with yours again on the headboard. His brows furrowed in concentration to give you time to adjust to him, but it’s hard, especially when you keep sucking him in like that. 
Morpheus only starts to move when you push back against him, taking him in another inch. 
“Fuck,” You hear him murmur in between your shoulder blades. One simple word and he has you palpable and jelly-like in his hands. 
Morpheus starts his thrusts slow, but much like how he loves, they soon become more - harder, better. Your moans go from soft to loud to muffled until he’s inserting himself over and over with such force that you’re left soundless. His power of his thrusts makes your shirt rise up until it just barely covers your breasts and the spaghetti straps fall from your shoulders. He snakes one of his hands down the sweat-dewed skin of your stomach and makes contact with your enlarged clit. 
He moans into your ear, unembarrassed when your cunt clenches harder around him when the finger pushes onto your clit. He starts to move the finger in slow circles around the nerves and your thighs start to shake. The rest of your body grows taught as his finger and cock slowly brings you to your second orgasm. 
Your mouth remains open, whines and whimpers falling out, Morpheus had long given up on keeping you quiet and only the brief remembrance that Elise was just down the hall make you bite your lips to silence yourself. Your orgasm was there again, just a little bit more and you’ll feel euphoria again. But no matter how much Morpheus keeps thrusting into you, you don’t get any closer. 
“Come for me,” He growls into your ear. 
“I can’t!” You whine out. You’re trying! Can’t he see that? You want it just as bad. 
“Yes, you can,” He huffs. His sucks a hickie on the peak of your shoulder blade and presses harder onto your clit. 
“Now,” He commands and you do. 
The snap was instantaneous and you taste blood on your tongue as your lip breaks open from the force of your bite. You feel each pulse of your orgasm rippling through you and then the sudden loss of Morpheus within you. You push your ass back into him, hoping to take him back into you. His cock instead rests between your ass checks when you feel the hot splurge of his cum splatter onto your back and the sound of your shared pants. 
You’re not entirely sure how long the high of your orgasm lasts but you come back to you laying on Morpheus’ chest except this time completely naked. 
“Did that really just happen?” You ask as sleep tugs on your eyes for the third time that night. The thunderstorm was long gone, and soft rain concludes the weekend long storm. 
A soft chuckle leaves Morpheus’ lips and it shakes your head. “Yes.” 
“What does this mean for us? For Elise?”
It takes a moment for Morpheus to answer and you think you fell back asleep. 
“It means that we can be a family, shall you want it,” Morpheus says. 
“That sounds perfect,” You smile and you know Morpheus could feel it on his chest when you do because when he speaks next, the happiness in his voice is genuine. 
“Then how about a date tomorrow, my love?”
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Ngl, this was so fun to write you guys. Thank you to [redacted] on hmmm, "helping" me with the smut inspiration. If only you knew this blog existed.
Working on a couple more fics! 26 Ways of Taking You is basically going to be my own version of the NSFW Alphabet so they'll be short, porn no plot fics with our lovely Endless.
Don't be shy! Request a prompt or ask a question :D
Have a lovely day
♡ Yours, Layla
250 notes · View notes
auroraborealyss · 2 years
Text
𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬' 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐈.
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⊹ pairing: morpheus x reader
⊹ summary: the much awaited, i-went-to-hell-for-inspiration, morpheus' love languages part 2: nsfw version. how he expresses his love languages when fucking you
⊹ tags: nsfw, morpheus is an adoring, reverent, woman-worshipping Endless who's always on his knees, the king of dreams is a giver
⊹ warnings: explicit language, explicit content (obviously), minors stay back (not that ever stopped me. if you are a minor, just know that sex might not be like this and do more research)
⊹ word count: 3027
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⊹ previous part: morpheus' love languages part i.
⊹ now playing: take me to church by hozier
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words of affirmation though he isn't the most vocal as an Endless, he does become vocal as a lover. or, specifically, he wants you to be. remember when i said he likes it when you talk to him? this applies here. (of course, by the time he's done with you, you won't be able to form words. but he'll accept desperate mewls of his name.)
call him by his name
not dream, but morpheus
gasp, groan, grunt, scream, whimper, murmur — every adjective of ‘said’ — say it in that way. he loves when you say his name and he the different ways you say it is akin to music. and if you whisper it right in his ear, his name hot against him so he can feel your desperation, he might just give you what you want and fuck you harder and faster
you tried to hold your moans back once
biggest mistake of your life
it doesn’t matter if you were only trying to hold back because you were in the library and mervyn, lucienne, and matthew were just three shelves down having a very serious meeting
though normally private in pda, perhaps that day morpheus was too frustration in being king and just wanted to be your lover. only a king had to worry about looking good in front of others. as your lover, all he had to worry about was pleasing you, and hearing the sounds you make was his signal that he was doing well
you thought that the sound of the shelves being rocked, your heavy breathing, and a book falling every now and then was telling enough what you were doing, and yes, you were a bit embarrassed to be found in such a compromising position with your skirt bunched up to your waist, one leg hooked around morpheus, and your head tilted to the sky as he attacked your neck
so when you bit down on your lip and slapped a hand over your mouth to hide your moans?
he is insulted (and you know how petty he gets) and fucks you even harder and faster than before
hoists both of your legs around his waist so he’s even closer and hits a spot in you that has you moaning obscenely and seeing stars. there’s no use hiding or explaining that away, but you don’t even think of the others anymore. all you can focus on is how he slams repeatedly into you again and again, one had rubbing furious circles on your clit, whispering orders in your ear to never deprive him of your sounds ever again
that as his lover, he owns every part of you (he definitely owns me), including those delicious sounds he purposefully and rightfully earns
and when you start making those sounds again, he is so fucking pleased with himself that he gets even harder
your hand falls from your mouth on its own and finds his hair, tugging on it, harder and harder as you reach your peak and he follows shortly after when you clench around him—all done with a loud cry of his name from you and your name coming out as a pleading grunt from him
when the two of you finally catch your breath, you peek around the shelves and find them gone
morpheus smirks at you before dragging you to the table for part two since “they’re not here anyway.”
always asks for consent
no matter how caught up he is in his emotions or pleasure, always asks you if you’re doing alright and if he’s doing alright touching your body
this man has a praise kink. tell him he’s doing well
tell him he’s fucking you so good as tears run down your cheeks and he’ll all but cum in you in that moment
tell him you were made for him as he bottoms out in you, and he’ll flip you over to your stomach and have his way and ruin you, leaving you a rambling mess who’s only coherent thought is his name
“you can take a little bit more of me, can’t you?” he whispers against your ear as you bite your lip to hold back your whimpers as he pushes inch by inch further, deeper, closer, into you. “you’ll do that for me?”
“you’re gonna make me cum” > “i’m going to cum”
he’ll make you squirt in thanks for reminding him that you’re orgasm is a product of his hard work
did you see how he pleaded with calliope to let him help her? imagine him begging to let him make you feel good
"i can make you feel so good, my love," he whispers as he puts one nipple in his mouth, suck and bite it gently, tugging on it, before releasing it and going to the other one. "let me?"
praise talk is his dirty talk. more into overstimulation and praise rather than edging and degradation cause he’s too in love with you to ever say those things or have you think, even for a second, that you are anything less than too good for him
type of person to say “i love you” as he fucks you
at the most intense moments, like when he’s about to orgasm, he mindlessly rambles out pleads for you to always stay with him and he needs you and you’re the only thing he needs (say less)
so tell him you need him. tell him only he can make you feel this good. because he’s definitely a giver, and the best compliment you can give a giver is to thank them for their service and tell them they’re doing a good job
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physical touch this is an Endless who falls hard and intensely in love, as we see with his past lovers. it stands to reason that he'd fuck the same way. he makes sure that he is touching every inch of your body and you are touching every inch of him
has a thing for walls
likes to fuck you against them. either your back to it with your legs wrapped around his waist, or the side of your face pressed against it with your hands on either side as he takes you from behind
he will also eat you out with your back against a wall. makes it his personal mission to make your legs woozy enough that you literally collapse and he has to hold you up or you’re falling on the ground
overstimulation
worships your body
kissed every inch of your body once
on the days that you don’t feel the most confident, he’ll whisper his gratitude towards those parts against your skin until you believe him
is still a sucker for eye contact
looks up through his lashes as he eats you out
looks down at you as he fucks into you
but just because he wants to be gentle and passionate with you, doesn’t mean you can’t be rough with him. in fact, he welcomes it
tug his hair hard as he eats you out and you’ll hear the most guttural groan which you’ll feel vibrate in your cunt
dig your nails down his back and his hips will snap against yours in a speed that reminds you your lover is not a man, but an Endless
suck and bite his neck and enjoy watching him gasp and tighten his grip against your hips, enough to leave his handprint on your skin
however, there is one time you can elicit some roughness from him, and that’s when you ride him
you’ve ridden him on his throne
it was your idea the first time, and his idea every time after
legs on either side, his arms wrapped desperately against your waist as you slam down onto him and he slams up against you
he grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs your head backwards (see gif as example), exposing the column of your neck which he can mark and litter with kisses and bites
a very passionate lovemaker and puts emotions other than lust into it. when you two have sex, he doesn’t just do it to get rid of frustration or because he feels lust for you, but because he loves you enough to want to share this other part of him that so few get
is the type to link your hands together while he slides in and out
presses his forehead against yours when on top of you. he expects you to do the same when you’re on top
if he’s not waiting at your cunt with an open mouth as you orgasm, then he’s kissing you, as if to swallow the sounds of pleasure you make and further drowning in you
can unclasp your bra with one hand
pulls your underwear down with his teeth
bites on thighs
and neck
and chest
i’m not saying this man cries during sex (not that there’s anything wrong with that). but he does constantly have glassy/teary eyes during the show, so don’t be surprised if he gets a bit overwhelmed with his feelings for you and shed a tear or two
just kiss it away
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acts of service he's always worshipped you before his capture, but after, he turns into a sinner looking for absolution from the only higher being he'd beg from. and the first step to absolution is looking for it on his knees
the first time you have sex after you reunite, he begs for forgiveness for being gone from you so long in his throne room
sits you on his throne and sinks to his knees before you
doesn’t even bother locking the door because he has no shame in anyone seeing him beg for absolution to you
and he doesn’t hold back from it either, alright? this Endless is making the most obscene noises as he loudly slurps and groans at the taste of you and moans at the sounds of you and ruts against his throne at the feeling of you, you, you
the first time you cum, he doesn’t stop and keeps fucking you with his tongue until he triggers a second one less than a minute later
he’ll add a finger soon enough
crooks it at just the right spot that it presses against the spongy part of you that makes your back arch off the throne and cum for the third time. at this point, your cum has started to drip off his throne, and he thinks about adding it as a design to his chair (you slap him on the back of his head as a no)
inserts another finger and starts pumping it in and out, in and out, even doing a scissor motion every now and then. you come the fourth time
the fifth time, he does all that plus play with your clit with his tongue. flicks at it, sucks on it, does everything you can possibly imagine be done with a tongue and two fingers until you squirt
and he still drinks it all. he takes those two fingers and uses it to scoop up all your cum and drinks it all
he always swallows whatever he’s able to draw out of you and whatever you’re willing to give him
and don't forget to sit on his face
he'd be more than happy to die underneath you, smothered by your thighs and cunt
if you try to do hold back and hover over his face, he'll ask you first if you like to squat over chairs rather than sit on them, before grabbing your things and pulling you down and not releasing you until he's done
if it isn’t clear yet, this man is a giver. gets genuine pleasure when he is the one to give you pleasure and can probably cum just from seeing you orgasm from his ministrations (he has and has no shame in it)
it might be how his possessiveness shows. knowing that only he can give you orgasms that intense is something he prides himself on
probably why he doesn’t mind when others look at you. all he’s looking at is your reactions, and you never show interest. you never give them the looks or sounds you make with him, and that’s enough that he just sits back, smirks, and pities the poor person who tried to hit on you
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quality time as kim namjoon says in all night: "we keep all the party in this room all night. we don't wanna put it on the brake, hold tight."
the first time you reunite, he eats you out for hours
only stops because your body literally cannot go any longer and you might pass out (he debates whether he wants you to but lets you rest)
but the first time he fucks you, he doesn’t stop until you’re a whimpering, drooling mess who’s only thought is morpheus
and you do pass out
he’s there when you come to, and he starts again
morpheus rarely does quickies. he’s too intense and long-term for that. he likes to take his time to worship you and he doesn’t want to end because he ran out of time or he has an appointment with someone else. when he’s with you, you’re all he’s thinking about
however, he does like to take his time teasing you
and by that, i mean he can give you little teasing touches all day to get you worked up
hand on your upper thigh when eating with others
presses his front against your back as he reaches for something in the cabinet
might even touch you through your underwear without giving you too much—just to keep you wanting and waiting
he can last a pretty long time, and sessions with him usually involve you cumming so many times that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to cum again (you will. he’ll show you)
always engages foreplay. involves a heavy make out session coupled with groping that leads you to being wet enough that he can just slip inside you
likes to fuck you where its comfortable for you—bed, a couch (walls are his guilty pleasure, though)
will fuck you anywhere in the dreaming, though, cause it’s all him
might even be more intense for him since he can feel whatever surface he’s fucking you on and how hard he’s fucking you or how tight and desperate you’re holding on to the edge of that table
morning sex isn't as common since that's when you wake up from the dreaming
night is definitely prime time for sex
you know you're in for a long time when you have sex before you're even in the dreaming. when that happens, you better hold on, since you'll wake up more exhausted than before you slept
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gift giving could be into toys, but he has to be the one who made it and he has to be the one using it on you. but why would you need toys anyway when you can have his cock
might be offended if you think he needs to use a toy to get to orgasm, as it suggests that he’s not enough
and if you say you want a toy just for the times he’s busy, he’ll tell you that he’s never too busy to give you an orgasm and proves it to you in that point
you’ll have to tell him that you can’t take enough if you want him to stop
rather, he uses toys to overstimulate
vibrator on clit while his tongue searches deeper in your fold or vice versa
the gift he does like to give you is lingerie
he gives you an assortment of different colours in different materials
his favourite is whatever makes you feel the most confident
gives you lingerie that is meant to be ripped off you
when he rips a set of lingerie that you actually really liked, he’ll apologize with kisses and promises that he’ll make you more before fucking you senseless
buys you lingerie from la perla. when you wear it to sleep and you arrive in the dreaming in it, he preens in delight
sometimes, he’ll give you lingerie from the dreaming while you’re in the dreaming. that’s completely under his control, and he can make it disappear in an instant
speaking of giving you toys in the dreaming, if he makes it, that he can get behind cause he has absolute control over it. his finger becomes the remote
that little underwear he gives you? with no warning, starts to fucking vibrate during dinner with lucienne. doesn’t ease up until you get up, flushed and with wobbly knees, and run to the hallway where you cum with a poorly concealed moan
when you return to the table, he looks to you with a knowing smirk. thankfully, lucienne remains unaware (or at least has the courtesy of pretending to be)
in the waking world, you like to wear his clothes after you wake up. in return, he takes your underwear
when you fuck in the dreaming, you wake up drenched and with a wet spot on your blanket. he sends you a new blanket as an unfelt apology which he’ll ruin the next night anyway
back to his greatest gift to you being his cock
i see him longer than wider (but not long enough to hurt you. 27-inch dick fanfic writers, stay back). you know, keeping in theme with his whole lean yet lanky physique
might be long enough that you can’t deepthroat him completely, though he appreciates the attempt
but the one time you steel yourself and manage to take him in all whole
nearly cums in your mouth immediately
wouldn’t expect you to do that all the time, of course. but on the special occasion that you want to put the focus on him, that’s the way to go
the way to morpheus’ heart is not through his heart, but through swallowing
all in all, this Endless is guaranteed to find his pleasure in yours, so make sure to tell him that he's doing well, keep your moans loud and uncontrolled, and he'll fuck you out of this universe
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𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗂𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗆, 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾 — 𝗎𝗇𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗋, 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝖾.
𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅-𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍-𝗍𝗒𝗉𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍, 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾 (𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌). 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌. 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀.
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╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!
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𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @aurorarevenclaw1927
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5K notes · View notes
roguelov · 2 years
Text
Only in Dreams
Summary: Married to Dream of the Endless, for centuries, you never expected to feel neglected. Yet even after his return, his attention turned to the Dreaming and ensuring its stability and future. While, your own needs and wants pulled at you. And soon your dreams were slowly filled with pleasure. Just not exactly from Morpheus.
Word Count: ~4k
Reader: Afab
Warning: smut (unprotected sex, oral receiving (afab), switch!reader, switch!dream, dirty talk, fingering), bits of angst, and some fluff
Tags: @lizajane2, @layla2-49
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MINOR DNI/ 18+ ONLY
Soft light filtered through the tall windows. Specs of dust glowed in the light, casting a dreamlike hazy in the air. The royal library was a spectacular sight. Endless floors, and winding mazes of shelves, continued to grow and grow.
Comforting, and welcoming.
Yet, a squeaky cart echoed, disrupting the peace. Or it would if anyone else were here enjoying the thousands and thousands of books.
It was you, and you alone. You wheeled around the infernal cart, shelving new books added to the Dreaming. While, Lucienne was off collecting a new census, and as you suspected, a reason to step outside the library’s walls.
But, company soon appeared.
“And what are you doing?” A presence loomed behind you.
Smiling to yourself, you barely turned your head in acknowledgement. “Shelving books.”
Morpheus hummed. “Care to have some company?”
“I would love some,” you smiled. You continued to move down the bookshelf with Morpheus trailing along like your shadow. “So, what have you been up to, my king?”
Morpheus moved to the side of you. “Usual business.”
“How vague,” you teased a bit.
A smile twitched on his lips. “I do not wish to bore you with all the details on how to run a kingdom.”
You hummed, twisting to shelve another book. A mistake. Instantly, like a spring loaded viper, Morpheus pressed himself against your back. His hands curled around the shelves above, white knuckling it. Still facing ahead, you smirked to yourself, “Yes, my king?”
His hand fell from the wooden shelves, and circled around your waist. “Why do you address me as such? Call me by my name, sweetness.”
You leaned your head back and whispered in his ear. “Morpheus.”
A groan rumbled in his throat.
Your heart skipped. It was such a beautiful noise. You laughed through your nose. “I think you have lied to me. I think you are the one in need of some company.”
“Is that a problem?” He buried his face into your neck.
“No.”
“Good.” He pressed a gentle kiss, almost desperate to refrain himself, in the crook of your neck. “Oh, how I have missed you.”
“Have you?”
“Yes,” he breathed into the shell of your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “You have tainted my thoughts all day, I could not focus at all.”
You spun around in his grasp. Books and shelves dug into your back. But, you didn’t mind. “Oh, have I? And what have you thought about?”
His lips skimmed over your neck. “Treacherous things.”
You bit your lip, and craned your neck. “Tell me.”
“Where do I start?” He nipped at your skin, eliciting a low hum from you. “One was you, your lovely bare body, laid out for me on our silk sheets. And you were squirming under my constant touch.” His hands travelled over your body. A hand snaked up, skimming over your breast and wrapped around your throat. He lifted his head, gauging your reaction. Your eyes were glassy with lust. A mimic of his own. He laughed through his nose. His hand trailed down and gripped your hips. “And you were making the most wondrous noises.”
You sighed, lost in his touch and spellbinding words. Your hands latched into his hair, needing him closer and needing to ground yourself.
He hummed as you carded your fingers through his hair. His thumbs rubbed teasing circles on your hips. All of it calculated, all of it to pull you in. It was so far, yet so close to where you truly needed him. “One was us on my throne with you on top. Your head was thrown back as you cried out in pleasure.”
You let out a shaky breath. Fuck. You rubbed your legs together wishing for some sort of relief.
“Another was here in the royal library,” he pressed his forehead to yours, “tucked away in a corner, like now. And we have to be, oh so, quiet but you, my love, could barely contain yourself.”
You tugged on his hair, making him moan quietly. You laughed, “I could not contain myself? Are you sure it wasn’t yourself you were mistaking?”
His eyes sparked with hunger, his lips curled into a devious smirk. “Shall we test this theory?”
You opened your eyes.
Black silk drapery. Not the captivating blue of a certain Endless. Soft cushioning hugged your back. Not sharp, somewhat uncomfortable, edges of books and wooden shelves.
It was a dream.
A idiotic dream.
You laid here in bed, and not in the royal library about to have a battle of wits and pleasure. Yet, you couldn’t shake off the dream. His voice still echoed through your head like a siren’s call. You rolled over. Empty. You reached over touching the spot where Morpheus would sleep.
Cold.
You sighed, frowning slightly. He must have left a while ago. It was sweet he did not wish to disturb you, but you wished he did.
You needed him.
In many ways right now.
However, you did not blame Morpheus. He had finally returned after so many years away. He had regained his tools, and had more power which he hadn’t had in ages. He was stronger, and wiser too. But, the years away, also brought paranoia. He didn’t want the Dreaming to fade as it did. Rebuilding it all from ruins was a long tiring journey, and now the Dreaming was thriving. Dreamers rejoiced. But, he still worried. He had busied himself with every detail, with every minor issue, to ensure an everlasting success.
And in doing so, he had started to neglect you.
His love.
Of course, in the first week of his return, he hardly left your side. He worshiped you like a fallen devotee begging for your forgiveness, he murmured his love on every square inch of your body, and he showed you again and again how years away had ruined him.
But, a kingdom needed their king.
His attention drifted back to the Dreaming, and ever so slowly he drew away from you.
You sighed, sitting up.
Your hands rested in your lap. You fiddled with the black band on your left hand. A simple band dipped in an inky onyx black, yet when you twisted it, it shone like far off galaxies: purples, blues, flecks of green, and twinkling stars. It resembled Morpheus, and his love, in every way.
You softly kissed the ring. “Morning, my sweet king.”
With a heavy heart, and a droop in your shoulders, you got out of bed and went off to find work.
Day after day.
Night after night.
The fissure between you and Morpheus grew. And so, those dreams became more and more frequent, and more intense.
And you couldn’t turn away from it.
Morpheus slid down your naked body. His eyes, once a delicate enchanting blue, now sharp and filled with a dangerous hunger. His lips dragged the curves of your body. Goosebumps chased after him. You wiggled, and hummed.
His lips skimmed further and further then -
He darted around where you so desperately wanted him. He peppered butterfly kisses across your inner thigh. Fleeting and soft, all of it left you wanting.
“Morpheus,” you whined.
He chuckled and nipped at your thigh. You gasped. “Patience, my love,” he whispered.
He moved to the other side, leaving a new trail of kisses, and marks, on your thigh. You bunched up the bedsheets. “Please, Morpheus.”
Off, in the outer edges of the Dreaming, a king heard his love call out his name. Morpheus, who was diligently working on new dreams and nightmares, spun around. He cocked his head. Did he truly hear you?
“Morpheus.”
His eyebrows knitted together. Why did you call him? Why now? Has something happened?
Curious, he stepped away from his soon to be creations. The bind that connected the two of you, tugged at his chest. Taking a single step, the dark sandy beach vanished like wisps of fog. It was all replaced with a bedroom: your shared bedroom.
And a sight was there to greet him.
You sprawled out on the bed, legs spread, as himself - a copy - buried his head between your thighs.
A dream. You dreamt all of this.
The fake gently blew on your needy core. His eyes flickered up. Your face was turned and buried into the pillow. Your lips parted. Your heavy breathing filled the silence, anticipating - begging - for his next move.
Morpheus stared stunned. His mouth agape.
The fake swiped over your folds with the flat of his tongue, then sucked on your clit. Your jaw dropped as your eyes shut in pleasure. The fake finally dove in. His expert tongue swirled and stroked all the right spots.
“Morpheus,” you moaned.
Your hands flew to his tousled hair, gripping it for dear life. Your back arched in pleasure. The fake hummed, sending your mind spinning. You squirmed. His firm hand pressed on your stomach forcing you down and still.
Morpheus, the real one, couldn’t look away.
Emotions clashed inside of him: anger, sorrow, jealousy, and also spikes of desire. Each one desperate to dominate him, yet he couldn’t grasp on one. He could only watch numbly as a poor copy of himself pleasured you.
You bucked your hip, trying to ride his face. The fake chuckled. The vibrations sent another wave of pleasure through you. You began chanting his name over and over like a broken prayer.
“Come, my sweetness,” the fake mumbled against you.
Morpheus left.
He didn’t wish to see anymore.
Now, he had something he must do.
The next morning, you still woke to an empty bed. The dream from the night before was muddled and hazy but a dull ache lingered in your heart. Yet, you continued on. You put your head down and got to work. Lucienne mentioned something the other day about needing assistance, so you went there.
Hours passed.
You never saw Morpheus. Unfortunately, as you predicted.
You and Lucienne chatted and laughed. Your own sorrows were forgotten for a fleeting moment. However, neither of you were aware of the shadow looming around you. A certain someone who still couldn’t comprehend what he saw last night.
He watched as you smiled and laughed as if nothing happened.
And in a way, nothing did.
Morpheus simply saw something he wasn’t supposed to. But, it continued to dig at him. Why? Why didn’t you come to him? Why did you act as if everything was fine? Why were you hiding this?
Later, he decided. He would address this later.
In the waning hours of the day, snuggled in a plush chair in your grand bedroom, you mindlessly flipped through a book. One, you weren’t truly reading. Your eyes scanned over the pages. Letters barely formed words. They skittered over the page and swirled tirelessly in your mind.
You huffed, setting your book down. You turned your attention to the flickering fireplace. Its heat warmed your cheeks, surrounding and filling you. As you stared at the whipping colors, your mind drifted to where it wished to go since the beginning.
Your dreams.
Your damned dreams that ran rampant.
You couldn’t free yourself from them. Morpheus now consumed your every thought, consumed your every needs. Physically and emotionally.
A door creaked open.
You peered behind you to see Morpheus. You smiled easily, your head resting back. “Hello, my sweet king.”
“Hello, my love.”
Not expecting any more of this conversation, you turned back to the fire. You suspected Morpheus to go to bed, weary from a day’s work. However, he surprised you. He sat down in the chair across from you. His coat wiped and flourished. His fingers threaded together resting them on his lap. His matching onyx band twinkled in the fire light. His eyes slid over to the flames.
The crackle of fire filled the pressing silence.
You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze was solely on the fire. His lips puckered in thought.
You may not have been physical in weeks, but it was daunting seeing how in recent days you hadn’t properly spoken to one another. It was awkward, and a little unnerving. It felt as if a stranger sat across from you.
“Are,” you began, getting Morpheus’s attention, “are you okay?”
Morpheus cocked his head in minor confusion. “Am I?”
“Yes, are you?”
“My sweetness, I am perfectly fine.”
You nodded.
“It is you who I worry about.”
Now, you were confused. “Me? Why?”
He sighed. The time has come. He got up and strolled over to you in three easy strides. Standing over you, he cupped your face. “Have I truly made you feel so abandoned?”
You scrunched up your face. “Abandoned? No, not -“
“My love, please, do not lie.”
“Morpheus, sweet Morpheus,” you hummed, smiling at him. Despite the obvious ache in your heart. “I don’t feel abandoned. I know of your duties and everything you must do.”
“But.”
You smiled softly. “I’m okay, I swear. You simply worry too much.”
The Dreaming is more important, you thought.
“Worry? Is it wrong to worry when I have forgotten the one I love?” He huffed. His thumb began to rub soothing circles on your cheek. “Yes, I do worry but, right now, I am more upset than anything.”
“Morpheus -“
“You needn’t lie for my pride. I already know the truth.”
You blinked.
He sighed, dropping his hand. “I have left you alone - needing - so you sought pleasure elsewhere.”
“What?” Your heart skipped. Fearful and slightly ashamed.
“You have used the Dreaming to create another me to fill your needs. I heard you calling out and to say I was surprised at the sight I saw is an understatement.”
Your cheeks warmed. You didn’t think he - “Morpheus, it’s fine. Honestly I don’t know why -“
“Tell me what you want.”
“Excuse me?”
He cupped your face with both hands, gently tilting your head back. He bent down. His lips brushed over yours, instantly drawing you in. “Tell me what you want, my love. Use me to fill your needs.”
“Morpheus -“
“Don’t,” he murmured against your lips. “A husband should care for the one they swore to love for eternity. And I have put my attention elsewhere. I’ve hurt you.”
Your hands slowly moved up bunching the front of his shirt. You haven’t had him - the real him - so close in a while. “You didn’t hurt me.”
It was the truth. You still loved him, always will.
He laughed once through his nose and smiled. “You are too good for me.”
Your hands wandered up further threading into the ends of his hair. You curled your fingers softly, nails scraping against the base of his head. He closed his eyes and hummed.
You bit back a knowing smirk. “It seems you have also neglected your needs, my sweet king.”
He chuckled. “I suppose I have.”
You finally pulled him in.
Your lips melded together. Like two puzzle pieces. Electricity ripples through your body. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss. He greedily followed your lead. You forcibly yanked on his hair. He moaned, opening his mouth. The perfect opportunity. Your tongue snuck in.
He groaned.
Your heart jumped. Oh, how you loved the noises he made. It drove you crazy. Each hum, each moan, seemed to go through you.
He smirked against you.
Although he may give himself over to you, he did enjoy teasing you. As your tongue swirled around, soon Morpheus quickly gained control. He knew exactly what to do and knew your own body better than yourself. In seconds, you were a puddle in his grasp.
You whimpered.
He gently guided you to your feet. His expert fingers trailed down your spine leaving sparks. Morpheus’s hands moved to your hips. You threw your arms over his shoulders bringing him impossibly close. You both clumsily stumbled around. Yet, your chest started to constrict. Your lungs burned. Air, you needed air. You broke the kiss and rested your forehead on his. Your chest heaved in chaotic unison.
Morpheus drawed your hips closer.
The simple friction was fire across your starved skin. You bit the inside of your cheek, humming.
“What do you want?” He whispered.
“You,” you breathed out.
You walked forward, pushing Morpheus backwards until he hit the edge of the bed. He flopped. His arms sprawled out to the sides, his coat draped behind him, his hair pointed in all directions, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted and swollen, and his eyes - oh his eyes - were soft in absolute adoration.
He smiled lovingly up at you. “Use me as you wish, my love.”
You didn’t need to be told twice.
You crawled up on top of him. You pulled him into another deepening kiss. He hummed, his hands flew up gripping your hips.
But, you ended the kiss quickly.
He groaned, disappointed.
You kissed the corner of his lips, down his face, over and up his jaw, then to his neck. He craned his neck back. You peppered kisses up and down his neck, and when you hit a certain spot, right at the crook, Morpheus’s hands tightened, possibly bruising your hips.
You smirked against his skin.
You nipped at him, starting to mark his perfect skin. He groaned, “(Y/N).”
It sent shivers down your spine, and directly to your core. His deep resonance, his pleas, it was dizzying.
Your hands snuck under his shirt tracing every taunt muscle. Your lips moved over his neck to the other side. He leaned, giving you easy access to nip, bite, and mark more of his skin. Your palm laid flat over his chest. His heart thrummed.
You leaned back.
He breathed heavily. His brilliant eyes darkened.
You grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him up. Your lips smashed together, hot and heavy. And now, he decided to return the favor. His lips ghosted over your neck. Such a simple touch made your head fall back as you groaned.
He smirked.
Needing more, you grinded down.
Morpheus moaned, dropping his head on your shoulder. “Do that again, my love, and I won’t be able to control myself,” he mumbled.
You smirked, grinding down again. He chuckled darkly. He pulled back looking at you in the eye. His index finger and thumb wrapped around your chin, bringing you closer. “Is that what you want?”
Your pleasure meant the world to him. He wanted it to be about you.
“Yes,” you murmured.
“As you wish, my sweetness.”
You feverishly tore off each other’s clothes. Each layer fluttered to the bedroom floor, piles upon piles. Morpheus laid you gently on your back on the dark sheets. He hovered over you. He bent down kissing you softly. You hummed, knotting your fingers in his already messy hair. He pulled away, licking his lips.
Biting back a smile, you slowly pushed him downward. He smirked, taking your not so subtle hint. His lips trailed down your body.
His talented mouth kissed down the valley between your breasts then over to one. Slowly, taking one his mouth, he swirled his tongue over your perked nipple. You sighed, tightening your grip in his hair. His hand kneaded your other neglected breast. Working you, sending you into pleasure. He pinched your nipple.
“Morpheus.”
He popped out your breast and switched, working on the other one. You arched your back, moaning. He knew exactly what to do. He knew how to rile you up in the most delicious taintilizing ways. All of it, leaving you needing and begging for more.
His eyes flickered up. Your eyes were closed, as you fell apart to his touch. Smiling against your skin, he moved farther down, kissing and nipping at your skin. He nipped at your hips, then down your inner thigh.
You squirmed.
You were dripping, desperate for any friction, for some sort of relief. One finger dragged between your folds collecting your wetness. “Morpheus, please,” you begged.
“Patience, my love.”
One finger slid in, soft simple strokes. He was teasing you. Not offering you enough. You bucked your hips begging for more, desperately trying to ride his one finger.
Then he dove in.
His tongue swirled around your clit. You sighed in pleasure, and tugged on his hair. Another finger slid in. He pumped you, a soft rhythm, gently stroking your walls.
He curled his fingers, beckoning you.
You gasped. Your eyes flew open, and peered down at him. His dark eyes met yours. Buried between your thighs, he stared unwavering up at you. Heat spread throughout you. He curled his fingers again.
You moaned, your head falling back.
Each stroke brought you closer and closer and -
He stopped.
He removed his fingers and pulled away completely leaving you feeling utterly empty. You whined. Looking down at him, he put his two fingers, covered in your juices, in his mouth. He moaned at your taste. His tongue swirled around his fingers leaving you wishing it was you.
You bit your lip, whimpering.
He chuckled. “Do not worry, my sweetness. I’ll help.”
Crawling over top of you, he paused. He stared lovingly down at you. You smiled reaching up, cupping his face. He turned his head kissing your palm and down your inner wrist. He brought your hands over your head. Your fingers intertwined together. Your band and his clacked together.
He lined himself up.
He bent down kissing you.
Without warning, he slid in.
You moaned against his mouth, and he eagerly swallowed the noise. Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours. His dazzling blue eyes bore down at you. You smiled softly at him.
He rocked his hips.
Your face twisted in pleasure.
Slow and steady pace. Each movement filled and stretched you, each movement a show of his undying affection, each movement an apology for leaving you.
“Morpheus,” you whined.
“I know, bear with me, my love.” He dropped his head onto your shoulder. He kissed your skin as he gently rocked his hips. “You are truly too good for me.”
You tightened your hands in his. “I love you, Morpheus. Nothing will change that.”
“And I love you.”
He bucked his hips at a different angle. You moaned, arching your back. “Morpheus, please, faster.”
He smiled, and teasingly said. “If that is what you want.”
“Yes, more than anything.” You mewled.
He snapped his hips.
A new relentless pace. A string of curses left your lips. You instantly wrapped your legs around his hips. Pressure build and build. Your walls hugged his cock wonderfully, as he hit all the right spots. Like before, he knew your body well.
His heavy breathing fanned across your already hot skin.
He slipped one hand free from your grasp. Tracing down between your molded bodies, his finger circled around your clit. “Fuck,” you hissed, squeezing your eyes shut.
“Ah, look at me, my love.”
You cracked open your eyes to see the endless blue. He expertly swirled his finger again. Your mouth fell open.
“You are divine,” he whispered. Your wall fluttered around him, warning him. He groaned. He knew you were about to reach your end, and soon so was he. “Come for me.”
You whined.
“Come for your dear husband.”
His words fueled the already burning fire.
You cried out his name as you clamped down around him.
He smiled to himself.
He continued to work you through your orgasm sending you higher than before. Until, you were completely filled with ecstasy. You writhed beneath him, repeating only his name. Your mind clouded in only absolute pleasure.
Morpheus soon followed after. Your name tumbled off his lips in a low groan. He hovered over you, breathless. You smiled lazily, brushing his hair out of his flushed face.
He smiled down at you.
He fell down into the sheets. You instantly crawled over to him laying your head on his chest. Your ear pressed to his heart listening to its erratic beat as it began to slow down. His arms wrapped around you, unwilling to let you go. Not ever again. His finger drew lazy shapes on your still hot skin.
“If you need anything, do tell me,” he said, breaking the silence.
“Of course,” you whispered against his skin.
His index finger titled your chin back. His eyes connected with yours, and he smiled softly. “Please,” he repeated, “do not think your needs are less than. You are more important in every way.”
You matched his smile. “Do not say that or I’ll have you trapped in here.”
He laughed once. “Please do from time to time.”
You laughed.
He bent his head pressing a loving kiss to your lips. You sighed, closing your eyes. Slowly, he pulled away and whispered. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
3K notes · View notes
darklinsblog · 2 years
Text
Sexy times with Morpheus would include…
Author’s note: Yes, I mean sexual activity I didn’t want to be too explicit with the title but filth ahead, be aware 👹
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Morpheus is a highly sexual being but he does believe any sexual act to be a truly intimate moment, so if he wants to go at it, congrats! The Endless trusts you
Before you actually do the deeds, he wants to know exactly what you like and what you don’t, the more specific you are, the better. He wants to make sure your needs are being met
Once he’s had you for the first time, he just can’t stop thinking about you
So he comes up with any excuse he can think of to get you two alone
“Y/N? Would you mind helping me with some research?”
You were the object of research
He enjoys foreplay, because of the power you are able to give him over you, to feel your knees buckle at his touch.
Enjoys taking his time with you
His favorite thing is to undress you and take a minute to admire your naked figure
You know he’s horny when he kisses your neck
He is vocal asf on sex
Loves to kiss your whole body
He’s the love making kind of guy
Constantly makes sure you’re enjoying it as much as him
Careful not to hurt you
“ Are you okay, princess?”
But he DEFINITELY knows how to play rough
King of praising
“You’re exquisite”
He likes you to be loud, but he would much rather you moaning in his ear
Has a thing for doing it on his throne
Likes to pull your hair
Also likes you to pull his hair
If you’re a dominant, he will practically beg for you to ride him, he loves to see you have that sexual confidence.
If you are more submissive he isn’t afraid to take charge, he will treat you like one of his dreams, a creation made for his pleasure.
He uses your dreams to know and fulfill your deepest, darkest desires.
He isn’t a selfish lover, in fact, quite the opposite
Puts your pleasure before his, he makes you cum at least one time before he does
He is a master at eating you out like you’re a feast
He goes deep
Just being inside you is enough to make him lose his mind
Loves to mark you in places nobody but else him can see
Let’s you mark him as well
He may not actually say it, but he loves when you scratch his back
Speaking of not actually saying things… he also likes you to go down on him but he’s too polite and correct to actually vocalize it
When you do go down he’s careful not to get too excited and pull you down roughly
His guilty pleasure is hearing you gag on him
Dream likes when you try to keep quiet but you fail miserably
He will do anything in his power to have you say his name like a prayer for hours
Overstimulation
“Morpheus- I can’t anymore”
“Just one more, my love”
He gets turn on by the slightest shit, like the clothes you wear, the way you cross your legs together or if you just brush your fingers slightly over his crotch
Morpheus likes to kiss you while taking care of you so he can take every moan, gasp and breathe in his mouth
Likes to have you cum with his fingers alone
He doesn’t do much teasing but when he does…
“I’ve barely even touched you and look how drenched you are, my love”
Prefers positions in which he can see your face clearly
Possessive asf
He likes you to acknowledge yourself as his as he acknowledges he is yours
Likes to hold you close for a few seconds after you cum
Aftercare is the most important thing for him
Would read to you while caressing your hair as a form of aftercare
Complete sucker for you wearing his clothes afterwards
He leaves small gifts behind if you fall asleep and he’s not there
“You looked so peaceful I didn’t want to disturb you, I’ll be with Lucienne if you need me”
4K notes · View notes
xarniae · 2 years
Text
☁︎ ᴇᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ⋆⁺₊⋆
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a/n: should I write more things like this??? synapsis: after falling into a coma you find yourself stuck in the dreaming and in love with the Lord of Dreams, and when you eventually awake you leave him in despair. warnings: hot and heavy makeout sessions......(i tried y'all😭) not proofread or edited pt2
☆.。.:*
Years had gone by, and many seasons had changed. But you were still injured. You lay motionless in your hospital bed. Peace was drawn on your face. Your mother and father had withered and aged, Your siblings and friends had empty hope that you would make it. But they could never bring themselves to pull the plug. That’s how it was in the waking world. However, in the Dreaming it was different. Your face had life and color, and your smile was brighter than a million suns. And all signs of sickness left your body. You were walking, running even dancing. It truly was a dream you never wanted to wake up from. But alas all good things must come to an end. 
The first time you and Morpheus met in the dreaming,he was awkard. You had wandered into the palace library and met the lovely Lucianne. You were quite confused, you remember your eyes going heavy after being placed in the hospital and your chest tightening and then here you were. The librarian was nice and sat you down. She told you all about the dreaming and reassured you that you would awake in a few hours when morning came. So you sat and enjoyed the day, the library was magnificent. It really took your breath away. Its large shelves filled with books could only found in a bookworms dream. You wandered around the library not wanting to bother Lucianne. Your look for a familiar book, any familiar book. A surge of happiness runs through your body as you finally find a familiar title, Romeo and Juliet. It wasn’t one of you favorites but it was familiar so you picked it up off the shelf. It seemed to be freshly printed. The spine was crisp and untouched.
“Lucianne.” deep mellow voice calls out,
“I think she went out for a moment.”  you reply softly, your head swivels around trying to find the source of the voice.
“I beg your pardon-” you finally see the man walk out from behind the book shelf infront of you,
“Who are you.”
The man was very pale and had messy hair as dark as molasses. You quickly tell him your name and greet him holding out a hand,
“Whats your name?” You gently ask
“Morpheus.” He leaves your hand hanging until you eventually drop it. It was very awkward. The silence made you squirm under his gaze. Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something to ease the silence Lucianne barged in,
“Lord Morpheus-” her voice trailed off as she saw the two of you,
“I see you’ve met our new guest.”
His gaze shifted to Lucianne,
“What do you need me for.” they both walked away from you. Leaving you with the comforting silence of the books. 
After that occurrence, he would see you around every corner of the palace. You were like a curious mouse, looking at every crevice. Running your hand on every solid object. Time had passed and you should have awoken by now. But here you were, still in the dreaming. This predicament seemed to alarm not only Lucianne but also Morpheus. They had their fair share of humans who fell asleep for months even years but never usually were lucid, or conscious of the fact that the dreaming was there. Nevertheless, there was nothing they could do now. You were stuck in the dreaming whether you liked it or not. 
Many weeks had passed since you first entered the dreaming. You had already gotten bored of being confined to the palace, you didn’t even get to sleep in the dreaming. It was eternal morning. You had gotten to the point in your life where you were begging Lucianne to help her with her work, but she would only shoo you away.  A huff left your lips as you sat on the large staircase in front of the large palace doors, your knees up to your chest as you buried your face in your legs. You wanted to wake up. You were going insane due to boredom, you had read so many books that your brain physically hurt to see letters on a page, and the smell of the books made you queasy. You craved human interaction, physical affection, and adventure. Lucianne was working 24/7 and Morpheus was out of the question. After your first meeting you hadn’t spoken to him again, he was too odd for you to socialize with. At that moment you heard the large doors creak open and footsteps tap on the floors. You knew who it was but kept your head down. 
Morpheus kept moving until he reached the top of the stairs where you sat, slumped over. He wouldn’t lie, he felt for you. Being confined to the dreaming must be agonizing for you. He wished to relieve you of that burden even for a few moments.
“Would you like to go walk in the gardens?” Your head snapped up to where he stood next to you
“Yes please.” your eyes twinkle pleadingly
He leads you out the palace doors and into the flourishing gardens located behind the palace. The sun gleamed down onto you for the first time, it felt so pleasing and euphoric. Morpheus watched as you observed every flower and plant with awe. It was amusing to him, watching you gawk at unknown flora.
“Are those fruit trees!” You exclaim turning around
He nods and gestures for you to go explore. And you did.
“I didn’t know the dreaming had fruit trees.” You strolled shoulder to shoulder with Morpheus,
“The dreaming has anything anyone could dream of.” 
“That's amazing.” 
He felt a sense of pride at your praise for his domain. 
“May I eat one?” Your fingers point to the dangling juicy red apple.
“You do not need to ask permission for every movement you make in this realm.” He grabs the magnificent fruit and hands it to you to devour. You weren’t hungry but you ate it, the sweet taste invaded your tastebuds and drove you to feel ecstatic. Maybe you were wrong about Morpheus, he seemed to care more than he liked to show. 
“Thank you Morpheus.” your smile pierces his heart, when was the last time a human smiled so gratefully at him? He could feel his lips curve,
“It is no problem, the gardens are yours to roam.”
Your heart swelled with joy,
“But what if I wish to roam them with you, would that be permissible.” 
“Of course, I would be more than willing to keep you company.”
Your smile only widened, Life in the Dreaming might not be so bad.
For the next month, Morpheus took you out into the gardens every day without fail. Somedays you would go fruit picking or have a picnic. Other times you would make a pie or a fruit-flavored pastry and bring it to him in his throne room. You two became very close in a short period of time. You might have even called each other friends. But I hardly think friends suck each other's faces in the gardens. But there you two were, smushed against an apple tree your mouths locked onto one another. The kiss was hot and heavy, your teeth clashed and your tongues invaded each other's mouths. Even the sun wanted to secrete behind the clouds at that act of indecency. Your hands grouped every part of each other's bodies as if you wanted to tear each other's clothing off. Only after you have to pull Morpheus off your body could you catch your breath. A dopey smile was planted onto your face as you watched his chest heave. He looked like a mess, his hair was more tousled and messy than usual. His clothing was wrinkly and he had love bites on his pale neck. Some old and some newer ones growing in hue. 
“We really should go back inside,” you say after finally catching your breath,
“ Do we really?” Morpheus challenges leaning his face closer to yours, his short breaths hitting your lips
“I guess not.” Once again the messy kiss fest began,
One might wonder ’how did this start?’. It happened to start after the fourth week of Morpheus taking you to the Palace gardens. Morpheus was starting to feel his heart gravitate toward you and his eyes capture you more beautifully. He felt his feelings for you were becoming more romantic. You on the other hand also started seeing Morpheus more romantically but you were also severely touch starved and craved physical connection and affection. This is why when Morpheus explained his feelings for you in the valley of berry bushes you wasted no time kissing him on his lips, your heart was frivolous and floating. He grabbed your waist and held you close as you both locked lips until you both pulled away, sweet smiles on your bruised lips, and walked back to the palace hand in hand. No words were ever spoken about the status of your relationship and never would be until further on in the future. Ever since then your garden trips always either started or ended with your mouth on each other. This leads us to the current time, Instead of your usual kissing spots you both were currently locking lips on his throne. You sat on top of him as you both vigorously kissed, your tongues dancing the waltz and his hands finally found purchase on your waist as he had previously been groping your chest. You gripped his dark black coat, seeking some stability, you felt as if you would float away into the clouds. After you both had your fill, you both settled down, you rested your head on his chest and sat there absorbing his warmth. 
“Morpheus.” You whisper
He hums in acknowledgment, caressing your hair,
“What would you say we are” Your head lifts to watch his expression, its the epitome of adoration
“Lovers.” He fondly pecks your lips
You contently hum and lean back into his chest. It was perfect, everything was perfect. But nothing lasts forever.
Many months pass. It has now been about 4 years since you entered your coma and ventured into the Dreaming. All day you had felt odd, your entire body tingled and felt floaty. Like you were groggy. You sat in the library with Lucianne and Morpheus. The pair were coming up with ideas for new dreams and nightmares. You were sitting on a comfy brown plush chair, reading a book when it happened. You could hear voices in your head. Like they were in your skull. Your book dropped to the floor and you gripped your head. You could smell the faint scent of antiseptic and plastic. It was familiar. You could hear the heavy footsteps of Morpheus and Lucianne rushing towards you,
“Are you alright darling?” His voice was filled with worry
“My head.” You groan, the voices were all too much, their yelling mixed with Morpheus's voice was all too much
‘Grip my hand if you can hear me.’ you heard in your head
“What is happening,” Morpheus asked turning to Lucianne for help, she was more knowledgeable in these situations,
“It seems as though they are waking from their coma.” 
“No,” his voice was soft and filled with disbelief. You had never heard him use that tone, or have that look in his eyes. As if his world was crumbling. The feeling was getting stronger and you were starting to fade. The sound in your head was getting stronger and the smell was growing. You could faintly feel cold metal. Before you fully disappear you grabbed Morpheus's hand and give him a sweet smile,
“See you in my dreams.” 
Then you awoke. Leaving Morpheus broken in the Dreaming.
“It’s alright Lord Morpheus.” Lucianne comforted,
“You shall still see her while she sleeps, or you may even visit her in the waking world.”
“No Lucianne.” His voice was filled with despair
“I won’t be the same.” His heart mourned, you were happy in the Dreaming, his kingdom. He wanted to be by your side forever but now you were gone from his home. He never expected you to leave him so soon. He sat in the library in front of that brown chair for hours after you left, his hands rested on the plush cushion of the chair. A few tears left his eyes, but no sounds left his throat. You had left him.
{end}
(maybe I'll write a happier part 2)
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Text
belong (nsfw)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Sumarry: Lucifer is always so very gentle with you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
A/N: Inspired by this fic, but I made it dark. Sorry? TW: non-con TAGS: #bathtub sex #aftercare #implied sexual content #non-explicit sex #post-coital cuddling #implied/referenced dubious consent #soul selling #pondering the nature of free will and soul contracts #sort of psychological thriller vibes but not really #dubious consent #deal with a devil #love bites #implied rough sex #light praise kink
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taglist: @opheliauniverse @zephyr-is-tired @dumbasslesbi @bychrissi @scream-queenlover @muffintopxs @bigolgay @gwenslucifer @weemswife @yourhauntedhead @carnivorousflowers @softshrimpy @willowshadenox @syrenacrainn @weemssapphic @dianneking @imprincipalweemspet @kimiinou @ninelesbien @i-love-nerdy-stuff @eveymay @myzzjolanda @pluied-ete @brienneswife @gwenzone @principal-weems09 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @gela123 @emilynissangtr @gwendolinechristieiscute @h-doodles @winterfireblond @larissaoftarthweems @a-queen-and-her-throne @bikergurl5 @salems-spaghettios @theflashesoflove @catechristiesstuff @vendocrap8008 @billiedeansbitch @coffeemelko @lilfartbox1 @amateurwritescm @daydream-cement @kaymariesworld @sicklygrlsicklygrl @wh0re4women @rippersz @milfsloverblog
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Sprawled against the Devil’s chest in a grand bathtub next to the fireplace, you don’t think it can get better than this. Their soft breasts pressed against your back, their nimble fingers tracing patterns on your chest and stomach, their warm breath on your neck. Their soft lips on the sensitive skin of your jaw, their hair tickling you, their touch gentle and caring. It’s all like a dream. The softest, sweetest, most wonderful dream — the kind that you have right before you ought to wake up. 
Ah, it’s just what your sore and aching body needs.
The water is hot, and yet your lover’s touch makes you shiver. Gooseflesh appears on your skin. You wince when they caress a dark bruise their teeth left on your breast. 
“Aren’t you a sensitive little thing,” they say, and the low rumble next to your ear causes another shiver to run down your spine. Their voice is lilting and melodious — sweet and delicious and oozing like caramel. Just for that voice alone, you’d do anything.
Anything is a dangerous promise. 
They kiss the painful, throbbing love-bite on your neck. A sharp gasp escapes you. 
“Tell me, have I been too rough with you? I forget how… fragile mortals can be.” 
They’ve been less than gentle with you, that much is true. And yet, you can’t find it in yourself to mind. The pain brought with it indescribable pleasure. It left you aching and sensitive and marked with bruises, but pleasurably spent. However, you’re content to be pampered with gentle touch and a hot bath with fragrant oils and salts — you don’t think you could take anything more than utmost tenderness right now. 
“You haven’t,” you say, and they chuckle into your ear — a low, deep sound, a puff of air against your earlobe.
“Liar,” they whisper into your ear. You can feel them smile against it. “Don’t worry, my sweet lamb. I intend to be nothing but gentle with you now that I’ve had my fun.”
Their warm breath on your ear has an intoxicating effect on you. You close your eyes and smile stupidly, leaning into them as much as you can, wanting to be as close to them as possible. 
“Sweet thing,” they say and run their hand down your torso, down, down until they reach between your legs. You wince when they touch the bruised and abused bundle of nerves nestled between your lower lips. It’s painful, rather than pleasurable.
“Lucifer,” you say softly, and they make a little circle with their fingers. Your abdominal muscles convulse and you hiss. “Please, I can’t take it.”
“No?” they ask softly and plant a kiss on your neck. “But I am being so very gentle.”
They gently flick their fingers over the little bud and you buck your hips involuntarily. You try to move away from the painful touch, but there is nowhere to go. You are engulfed by their much larger body, by their gentle, but unrelenting hands. “Please,” you breathe, “I can’t.”
“The human body is wondrous thing. It entertains me greatly to see how much my touch affects you,” they say almost conversationally. They rub gentle circles, but even the lightest pressure makes you cry out in pain. However, hidden somewhere beneath the pain, distant pleasure starts to build. It grows in your lower belly, warm and steady. 
Belonging to the Devil isn’t something one should take lightly.
“Sweet, sweet lamb — how you amuse me. It feels good, doesn’t it?” they whisper softly, their voice a soothing lullaby in your ear. “Tell me, do you wish me to stop?”
You open your mouth to say yes, but words evade you. “I can’t,” you say instead.
“Of course you can,” they say, saccharine sweet. “Do you want me to show you?”
No, you want to say, but the words don’t come. “It hurts,” you whine. 
You’re hot — aching and throbbing, your lungs full of steam rising from the bath, hyperaware of their body pressing into your own, of their breath on your ear. They are inexorable, rubbing gentle circles, making you pant and whimper. The once distant pleasure emerges through the pain, stronger, clearer than before.
“Poor thing,” they coo, sugary sweet. “So sensitive, and yet doing so well for me. So obedient. Such a good girl.”
Their voice renders you dizzy and confused. What is it you wanted to say?
“Do you want me to stop?” they ask again and press harder. You cry out. They laugh into your neck — a warm gush of air and a sound of angel-bells ringing.
Stop, yes, stop — that’s what you wanted to say — but they rub harder and faster and then overwhelming, all-consuming pleasure washes over you. The intensity of it crashes and then ebbs and flows like a wave. You’re distantly aware of your own cries and the Devil’s soft words.
“See, my sweet dove? You can.”
But I didn’t want to, you think — a distant, hazy thought, something you can almost grasp. 
They whisper soft words of encouragement into your ear, and their voice ebbs and flows not unlike the pleasure in your belly. You convulse and ache and grip their arm, and they shush you, hold you, and caress you.
It takes a while before the pain and the pleasure subside. You’re sore and achey and spent — even more so than before. You didn’t think it possible.
“I…” you try to speak. 
“You…?” they mock you sweetly. 
“I didn’t…” 
“Didn’t you?,” they say, smiling into your neck. You can feel the sharpness of their teeth against your skin. 
I didn’t, you want to say, but you aren’t so sure anymore. A pleasant, blissful sleepiness weighs on your limbs like a heavy cloak. You drift in and out of sleep as the Devil gently cleans your sweaty skin, rubs your scalp, washes your hair and peppers soft kisses over your abused body. Tender, beautiful aftercare — exactly what you need — and oh, they do it so lovingly. 
It isn’t until you’re dried off and carefully carried and laid upon the bed — on the most exquisite and decadent silken sheets — that you find it in yourself to speak. You’re sleepy, so terribly sleepy, and yet you manage to ask what’s been on your mind for some time now.
“Lucifer…” you manage to utter, softly and quietly. 
“Yes?” they ask as they settle next to you, pulling you close, wrapping their arms around your waist. They bury their nose into your hair and inhale deeply. 
“Do I… have agency? Now, after the…”
They wrap a wing around you, shielding you and covering you as if with a blanket. “Of course you do. You can have anything you desire.”
They’re right — you do get everything you desire. And yet, what agency does someone — something — that belongs have? Is a plaything allowed to desire? And if it is, do they just end up desiring what their Master wants?
“Really?” you murmur. Your eyelids are heavy with sleep. A wonderful, warm feeling, and yet there is something underneath it. You can almost remember what it is.
“Name it and it is yours, little lamb.”
Yes, yes, it is true, you think as you snuggle closer to them. They’re warm and they smell like burning wood — comforting, like a fire that chases away the winter cold that wants to settle in one’s very bones. It’s true, you think — they always ask what you want. 
It’s just that you always seem to want exactly what they do.
You want to ask something else, but it escapes you. Something on the tip of your tongue you can’t quite grasp. A question, a flickering light you can’t quite catch. 
You sigh softly and drift into sleep — warm and safe in Lucifer’s embrace. Who knows, maybe if you stayed awake just a tad longer, you’d have remembered what you wanted to ask. 
Indeed — selling one's soul to the Devil isn’t something one should take lightly.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
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stranger-nightmare · 2 years
Text
𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 (𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬)
Pairing: Morpheus / Dream x (female) Reader
Summary: being reunited with your lover, Morpheus, after he’d been captured for nearly a century
Warnings: angst, smut, tiny bit of dry humping I guess?, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (m+f), multiple orgasms, minors DNI
A/N: here we are adding another pale emo boy to my never ending list of men I’d like to fuck lmao! title is of course from Sweet Dreams by Eurythmics! I hope you guys like this <33
p.s. this was not properly proofread bc I was in a rush to post it before I left for holiday so I’m so sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes, hopefully it’s still readable lmao
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This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.
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“Here’s here! He’s back!” Lucienne pants as she barges through your door, or what was left of it at least.
You sit upright from where you were lying on the bed.
“What?” You squeak.
“He’s back. Morpheus. He’s here. He’s back at last,” she smiles at you, elation and sadness both mixing in her eyes.
You waste no time in following her, the two of you running through the ruins of your once beautiful castle until you reached the throne room. Your breathing fast and shallow, your heart pounding ferociously in your chest.
“Morpheus!” You all but sigh in relief as you finally lay your eyes on your lover.
He was standing by his throne, one hand rested on its back, dressed in his usual dark attire. For a moment your breath hitches in your throat. For a moment it was almost as if he’d never left, as if he’d been there, where he belonged, all this time. But your reverie is quickly broken when you feel the pang in your chest, the pain as it hit you again just how long your lover had been kept from you.
“My love,” he calls back quietly, his tone as serious and calm as it ever was.
He descends the stairs slowly, making his way towards you. You didn’t have it in you to be as calm and reserved as him. You raced towards him, closing the the distance between you as quickly as you could. You almost don’t stop when you reach him, you just crash into him. Your arms fling desperately around his neck, pulling him down into you. His hands snake around your waist and pull you flush against him, his palms flattening against your body, his fingers digging into your back.
You bury your face into his chest, titling upwards to nuzzle against his neck. He buries his own face into your neck, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin, making your hair stand on end. Your hands wander up his neck, moving to run through his hair, tugging it tightly, afraid that if you let go he’d somehow disappear again. You’re so lost in the moment, of having Morpheus back in your arms, you almost completely forget about Lucienne until she clears her throat lightly.
“I’ll, er, let you have some time alone,” she murmurs.
Morpheus raises his head slightly to nod an acknowledgment at her. As soon as she’s exited the throne room you tug him down by his hair, crashing his lips against yours. You both moan desperately into the kiss as your mouth greedily devours his, as if you could somehow make up for a century of having his lips parted from yours.
You didn’t need to talk, to say anything. There were no words to comprehend this moment. Instead you let all your feelings pass to him though your lips; a century of torment parted from your lover, a century of aching for him, of feeling so empty and incomplete. ‘I missed you’ simply wasn’t enough.
You moan softly again as you push your body against his even harder, arching your back and curving yourself into him. You feel a gentle smile tug at Morpheus’ lips as his hands hold you even tighter against him. Your hands move to tug at his long coat, pushing it off his shoulders. He lets the coat slip off his body before he presses into you even harder than before, walking you back a few paces.
You gasp in surprise against his lips when you feel something hit the back of your knees. You twist your head to suddenly see a magnificently large bed placed behind you. The sheets were black silk, it’s frame made from darkest of brown woods, gothic twists and turns carved into it’s structure.
It was beautiful. It was Morpheus.
“I almost forgot how much I missed that trick,” you smirk, referring to Morpheus’ ability to manipulate everything around you in the dreamworld.
Morpheus just hums deeply against your lips, his fingers digging into your hips as he tilts you further backwards, gently lying you down on the grand bed. He moves to kneel at the edge of the mattress, pausing briefly to slip off his black t-shirt and toss it to the floor. You feel your heart flutter with a mix of pain and excitement as your eyes take in the sight of his pale torso. He looked exactly the same, exactly as you remembered him. The nostalgic familiarity of his body causes a flood of emotions to surge through you, a tear blinking in your eye.
Morpheus notices your tears as he leans down over you, positioning himself above you, his hips against yours. He shushes you gently, bringing a hand to cup your face, his thumb swiping at your fallen tears.
“Shh, I’m here now, my love. I’m here,” he whispers before kissing you gently again.
Suddenly the messy urgency of before dissipates, melting into a languid and lazy kiss, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. Your hands roam over his torso, revelling in the smooth skin you hadn’t touched for a century. You feel the soft contours of his body, the ripple of his muscles as he holds himself above you. You scratch your nails down his stomach, eliciting a deep groan from Morpheus. You stop your movement just short of the small trial of dark hairs on his lower abdomen, sliding your hands back up his body until they clasped around the back of his neck once again.
As Morpheus kisses you his body starts to slowly rut against yours. You can feel the buckle of his belt dig into your lower belly as he grinds himself on top of you. Another moan passes your lips when you feel how hard he is; his cock straining against his dark jeans and poking between your thighs. You shiver and whimper when he moves his hips further forwards, pushing against your clothed pussy, providing the tiniest amount of friction.
Your hips buck up into the movement, humping him just as fervently as he was humping you. Your back arches, your covered chest pushing against his bare one. Slowly the urgency and desperation from before starts to creep back into your kiss, into your bodies. His mouth starts to attack yours more hungrily again, his lips moving faster and more greedily against your own. Your hands tug on his hair again, silently pleading him for more. His hands run down your body, grabbing at your hips and giving them an almost painful squeeze.
“Morpheus please,” you whisper. “I need you,” you whine, pushing your hips up against his for emphasis. “I need you to fuck me.”
He groans deeply again at your words, his fingers almost trembling where they held onto your hips. His eyebrows furrow, his face twisting in contemplation, almost as if he was fighting with himself, or fighting to control himself.
“I- I want to take my time with you, love,” he murmurs against your lips.
You shake your head lightly, your nose bumping against his.
“We can take our time later. We have all the time in the world now you’re back,” your sigh against his lips. “But right now, I just want you to fuck me. Please. Please,” you plead with him.
You continue to murmur the word ‘please’ against his skin as you kiss down his jaw, along his throat. You make your way to the spot just below his ear, the one you knew always drove him absolutely wild. Once you find the spot you bite gently at his pale skin, sucking quickly to pull a bruise to the surface; you were determined to show the worlds, dreaming and waking alike, who Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams himself, really belonged to.
Morpheus grunts when you suck harshly on that sensitive spot. His hands run up your body quickly again, snagging on the hem of your shirt and hurriedly lifting it free of your body. He groans deeply when he realises you weren’t wearing a bra, his gaze burning as he takes in the sight of your perfect tits. It seems he practically has to force his gaze away as he sits up and begins to make quick work of undoing the fastenings of your jeans. You shimmy your hips, helping him as he tosses them aside. You sit up, ferociously crashing your lips against Morpheus’s again as your shaky hands fumble desperately with the fastenings of his own jeans.
But he pulls your hands away, not so gently shoving you back down onto the mattress. He looks down at you with a commanding glare in his eyes. You move to sit up again but he grabs your jaw in his hand, pushing you back yet again until you were lying hapless on the bed.
“Morph-“ you whine, cut off when he squeezes your jaw.
“I will take my time with you, my love,” his voice is a whisper and yet it holds all the command and authority of a king.
A whimper lodges in your throat as Morpheus starts to drag his hand down your body. He gives your throat a gentle squeeze before his hand is trialing down your chest, between the valley of your breasts, over your stomach, right down until he reached your navel. His gaze follows his hand, his eyes mapping your entire body as you squirm naked beneath his stare.
“I’ve missed this body,” he muses to himself, his eyes glazed, drunk on the sight of you. His eyes snap back up to yours before he adds; “I’ve missed you.”
He looks at you with such an intense and sad gaze that you feel your heart twinge again, a tear pricking your eye. You take one of your hands and place it over his where it still rested on your lower abdomen.
“I’ve missed you too,” you squeak, giving his hand a squeeze.
He flashes a soft smile, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips so that he could place a chaste kiss to your knuckles. Your heart twists at the gesture; it was something he used to do frequently before he’d disappeared. He bumps his nose against your knuckles before gently placing your hand back on your stomach. His small smile twists into a smirk when he finally leans forwards again, hovering over you. His lips land on your chest and begin following the same trail he’d just made with his hand.
You shiver as he kisses down your body, his lips somehow cold and yet burning like fire as they sear down onto your skin. You bite your lip as you look down at him, his eyes trained on yours even as he kisses lower and lower down your body.
When he finally reaches the apex of your thighs he first places a gentle kiss to your pussy lips. His hands move to tuck under your thighs, helping to hold you open. He flashes you that tiny beautiful smirk again before he finally licks a stripe up through your folds. You shiver at the sensation, throwing your head back immediately. It was almost outrageous how just the lightest of touches was already driving you wild; you are simply just horrendously desperate for your lover’s touch. And he was more than happy to oblige.
Morpheus licks through your folds a few more times, spreading a mixture of your arousal and his saliva all through your slit. A strained profanity slips past your lips when he finally starts to focus his attention on your clit. He sucks it into his mouth, his tongue swirling it languidly. Your hips buck, your body jerking under his touch as the feeling almost overwhelms you. You swear you can still feel his smirk as he brings one of his hands from under your thighs, moving it to splay across your lower belly again, pushing you down and pinning your hips to the mattress. You whine, a sound somewhere between frustration and pleasure.
“Mmm, I’ve missed your taste,” he groans against your cunt. “You always taste so exquisite. Just heavenly,” he hums.
You whimper, his name falling from your lips in a sinful moan. He reciprocates your moan, the noise vibrating through to your clit as he sucks it back into his mouth. Pleasure sears through your body, a fire inside that you’d not felt for over a century. Your head almost feels dizzy, your breathing shallow and fast, your skin tingling, your fingers and toes almost going numb as all feeling is focused in your core.
“M-Moprheus,” you whine, twisting your head to hide in the sheets, almost embarrassed by how quickly your orgasm was building.
Your thighs tremble and shake on either side of his head, your toes curling and pushing against his shoulders. He moans against you again as he feel you start to buck your hips more fervently against his face. He glances up at you and sees how you’ve twisted to cover your face, hiding the heat in your cheeks as your body surged closer and closer towards your climax.
“It’s okay, my love, just let go. I want you to let go,” he whispers gently.
You mewl, your fingers knotting harshly in his hair, your back arching and your neck twisting even further away from his stare.
“Look at me, lover, please. I want to see your face,” he pleads quietly. “I need to see how good I make you feel.”
Though he may be pleading there’s still that edge of command in his tone that lets you know it wasn’t really a request and there really wasn’t any room for arguing. You bite your quivering bottom lip as you slowly lift your head to look at him. You moan lewdly as you catch the sight of him between your thighs. His gentle blue eyes are somehow dark with lust, his hair even messier than usual from where your fingers were gripping it. You can just about see, as well as feel, the smirk on his lips as he keeps his tongue swirling over your clit, sucking softly at the same time. The sight and sensation of it all is finally enough to tip you over the edge.
“O-oh, fuck,” you barely manage to choke out as pleasure races through your entire body, spreading from your core right into the tips of your fingers and your toes.
You fight the urge to toss your head back and arch your spine as you desperately try to keep your eyes on his. You feel his smirk grow into a small grin of pride as he continues to just lightly suck on your clit, enough to prolong your orgasm without making you go too sensitive. When your body has finally given every ounce of pleasure it had to offer, for the moment anyway, he removes his mouth from your cunt and starts kissing your inner thighs again lightly.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs lowly against your skin, placing another kiss to your thigh. “You did so well for me,” he praises gently.
You slump back against the mattress again, your chest rising and falling heavily as you try to catch your breath. Morpheus just continues to kiss all over your thighs as he gives you a moment to recover, occasionally biting and sucking a hickey into your skin. Feeling the wetness of your euphoria on his chin and lips as he kisses over your skin feels deliciously filthy.
His hands stroke the back of your thighs and your ass, grazing over your hips, causing goosebumps to raise on your flesh, a shiver running through your whole body. Your hands loosen their grip on his hair, instead just stroking his head lightly as you try to relax and just revel in the feeling of being with your lover once again.
But it’s not long before you start to feel the ache build in your core again, your cunt clenching desperately over nothing as Morpheus kisses tantalisingly close to your pussy.
“Please,” you beg quietly, your head lulling to the side again. “Please Morpheus, I need you inside me,” you almost cry, your voice pitching in tone.
“Shhh,” he kisses the inside of your thigh. “All in good time, my love,” he promises.
He continues to kiss at your thighs for a short while before you feel one of fingers gently brush through your folds. You mewl at the feeling, at the promise of more. He swipes his finger through your slit, gathering the wet mixture of his spit and your cum. It’s like fireworks explode in your chest when you finally feel his finger push into you, slowly and gently stretching you open. You swear your body was about to combust when he’s quickly able to add another finger, your wetness making it all too easy for him to pump his two fingers in and out of you.
Your fingers knot tighter in his hair, yanking hard as he starts to curl his fingers, searching for that sweet spot inside you. He hums in satisfaction, kissing your thigh again when he hears a squeaky moan lodge in your throat, knowing he’d found the right spot.
“O-oh fuck. Yes...” you whisper with a shaky breath as he adds his mouth back into the mix, his tongue smothering over your clit again.
He curls his fingers in time with his tongue, stroking your sweet spot with the pads of his fingers as his tongue swirls circles around your swollen clit. Your body feels impossibly hot, the pleasure making you feel tingly as it races through you. Your orgasm builds even faster than before, rushing to the surface and breaking over your body. You can barely moan Morpheus’ name as he pumps and sucks you through your second high. You convulse and shake, your body almost twitching from the pleasure, your pussy clamping over his fingers as he slowly continues to curl them against that spot inside you.
Morpheus hums in satisfaction again as he steadily slows down his movements, slowly bringing you down from your high. He sits up, his eyes never leaving yours, before he gently pulls his fingers free from you. You gasp at the loss of contact but the sound quickly develops into a full blown moan when you see Morpheus bring his two fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean of your juices as he continues to stare you down.
You can’t wait any more; you needed this man to fuck you.
You didn’t even care how sensitive you were from your first two orgasms. You sit up and grab him by the back of his neck, yanking him harshly down until his lips collided with yours. Another moan escapes you as you taste yourself in his mouth, the tang of your arousal coating his tongue as it roamed over yours. You pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, arching your back and pushing your chest up against his, your perked nipples brushing against his skin.
Morpheus groans into the kiss as his body starts to move against yours, his still clothed hips slotting between yours. The tent in his dark jeans rubs against your pussy and sends a flare of euphoria through you again.
But it still just wasn’t enough.
Your fingers quiver as they fumble once again with the fastenings of his jeans; only this time he doesn’t move to stop you. You moan greedily into the kiss, your lips moving with an even more urgent hunger against his as you start to push his jeans and boxers down his hips. He breaks the kiss briefly as he shifts to remove his jeans completely, throwing them to join the rest of your clothes somewhere on the floor.
The sound that leaves your throat when you’re finally able to take in the glory of his naked body is almost indescribable. He was just so painstakingly beautiful it genuinely made your chest ache. You can’t bring yourself to wait any longer as you reach forwards to grab his glorious cock in your hand. You swipe your thumb over his red and swollen tip, gathering the pre-cum and swirling it around his head. Morpheus all but shudders as you do so, his eyes fluttering as he tries to keep himself under control.
You’re just about to start stroking him properly when his hand clamps over your wrist, giving a quick but firm shake of his head. You release his cock as he gently guides you to lie back on the bed, his body crawling over yours. His nose bumps yours as he gives you a desperate and messy kiss before you feel the wet and warm tip of his cock nudge against your folds. Your fingers curl and dig into his shoulders as you desperately try to pull him against you.
Morpheus grabs his cock and helps guide it through your slit, gathering the mixture of his spit and your cum and coating himself with it. Then, at long last, you finally feel him start to push inside you. A whimper escapes traitorously past your lips as you feel the dull ache of him stretching you open. You could feel just how tight you were around him as he slowly pushes himself into you, slowly slotting himself to the hilt, until you could feel his hips flush against yours again.
You feel the light tremor in Morpheus’ body, the slight tremble in his arms as he holds himself above you. His eyes close and his face twists with pleasure, and with concentration, as if he was pouring all of his focus into not cumming almost immediately at the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him after a century apart. His head hangs low, his fringe ticking your forehead as he pauses there for a moment, giving you a second to adjust, or giving himself a moment to gather himself before he loses himself completely to the feeling of you.
He takes a deep shuddering breath, searching your face. You nod quickly, bucking your hips again as you silently give him permission to move. He nods shortly himself before he obliges your request from the beginning and slowly but surely starts to fuck himself into you.
He’s barely started to move and already you can feel fireworks explode throughout your body. Your hips buck to meet his, your tits pushing up against his chest, your nails tearing at the skin of his shoulders. He shudders and groans as he feels you pulse around him, hugging his cock impossibly tight.
“Oh, my love, I’ve missed how good you feel,” he whispers with a deep groan, “how tight and perfect you are for me.”
HIs voice is so quiet, almost as if he’s rambling more to himself than to you. You can feel his breath tickling your face as he hovers just above you. His one hand holds himself up, resting just next to your head. His other travels across your waist, caressing the soft curves of your body. That same hand trails higher up your body, grazing the side of your breast until he reaches the apex of your arm.
You shiver, more goosebumps beginning to litter your skin as his fingers dance back down your arm. You mewl softly when his hand reaches yours, dancing over your palm until his fingers interlock with your own. He gives your hand a quick squeeze before he lifts it above your head, pinning it to the mattress behind you.
His name escapes your lips in a plea as he squeezes your hand again. At the same time he begins to speed up his thrusts. His pace is still relatively slow and steady; he puts all his effort is focused on trusting deep inside you, the tip of his cock brushing that spot inside you with each snap of his hips. With each thrust another cacophony of moans fly from your lips.
“I think most of all,” he continues through his shaky breathing, “I’ve missed the sounds you make. The way my name falls from your lips,” he pants hotly, his breath fanning over your face. “You are divine,” he groans through gritted teeth, “like the sweetest dream there ever was.”
You moan his name again as you feel your body coil again, the fire burning and building in your core with each brush of his cock inside you. Morpheus pushes his forehead down against your own, his nose bumping against yours as his own moans start to increase in frequency. You almost smile as you feel a small jolt of joy swell in your chest. His moans grow higher in pitch and you knew it was his telltale sign that he was close to finishing himself.
But you also knew he never let himself finish first. And, as you expected, as he always used to do, he brings his hand, the one not holding onto yours, down between your bodies. His fingers find your clit quickly, wasting no time in circling it with expert precision.
His eyes search yours desperately, a century of unspoken emotions passing between the two of you. You knew there were no words to describe how you both felt. No amount of letters would ever be able to encapsulate the enormity of torment that had been your time apart.
Instead you just let your bodies do the talking. The glaze of tears in his eyes letting you know how much he loved you. The hunger of his lips when they moved with yours showing you much he missed you. The tight grip on your hand signalling that he would never let you go; a silent promise that you’d never be parted again.
You lose yourself in the moment. Nothing else exists other than here and now. You pay no mind to the crumbling castle around you, the vast and empty space that stretches on forever. All you see, all you feel, is Morpheus. Your senses are clouded and overwhelmed by him. The sight his ethereal blue eyes boring into yours. The smell of him, light and clean, refreshing and comforting. The feeling of his smooth skin under your palms are you claw at his back. The wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. The gentle sounds of his heavy breathing and soft groans in your ear.
“Morpheus, I- I’m close,” you breathe, nudging your nose up against his.
He nods lightly; “let go for me, baby.”
You whimper, something akin to a sob, when you hear him call you ‘baby’. He hardly ever called you that despite knowing how much you actually loved it. The pet name, his fingers circling your clit, and another deep thrust of his cock inside you, finally work to tip you over the edge once again.
This climax was different to the others; it was more intense but not in a way that felt overwhelming or too much. It was just the prefect amount of pleasure and you swear your vision goes blurry as you reel from the sensation. Your eyes roll back slightly, your head lulling onto the pillow, your jaw going slack as your mouth hangs open in a silent O.
“Oh how I’ve missed that view; how beautiful you are when you fall apart for me,” Morpheus groans lowly as he keeps fucking into you slowly.
His hips jut raggedly against yours, his pace faltering and his thrusts turning sloppy as he fucks himself towards his own climax. You paw at his back with your free hand desperately as you encourage him to let go. You slide your hand up his neck and fist his dark hair again, pulling tightly in the way you knew he liked. And it worked, as not a second later his hips still completely as he lurches deeply against you, finally climaxing himself.
He pants shakily, deep groans falling from his parted lips as his cock twitches inside you. You sigh his name contently as you feel the warmth of his release flood inside you. His hand shakes where it still holds onto your own. His other hand had moved to squeeze your hip as he slowly rocks you both through the remnants of your highs.
The two of you just stare at each other for a second, the both of you trying to make this moment last for a century, as if this could make up for the century spent apart.
Morpheus smiles gently down at you, his hand moving from your hip to palm your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. You reach up to cup his face in return, your fingers softly tracing over his features. His eyebrows furrow when he sees a slight sadness behind your eyes.
“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly, twisting his face to place a gentle kiss to your palm.
“It’s nothing,” you shake your head slightly.
You sigh defeatedly before explaining further, warmth rising to your cheeks with a slight embarrassment.
“I want to say 'I love you', but the words seem somehow so small and insignificant, like they’d never be big enough to capture how I actually feel,” you whisper.
Morpheus just smiles gently, leaning down until his lips connected with yours in a gentle kiss. You both smile softly into the kiss when you feel the silent message pass from his lips to yours.
Perhaps words would never be enough to encapsulate how you felt about each other. But it didn’t matter. You could feel it in your heart. And, somehow, you just knew that he could feel it in his heart too.
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Masterlist
A/N: just gonna tag my babies @mothdruid and @siempre-bucky as well bc I know how much they love this pale emo too!! I really hope you all liked this <33
p.s this will be my final fic for a short while as I’ll be away on holiday and taking a short hiatus from Friday onwards!
Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi
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littledollll · 3 months
Note
I have a request!
Lucifer sitting on the bed while their partner (reader) shows them how they look in different lingerie and asking which one they like better
Take your time and take care 🫶
Fashion show
Lucifer Morningstar x reader
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A/n: this was so FUN to write man. I’ve had daydreams about this before actually. I love it here. I hope you enjoy<3
Warnings: touching, lingerie, aludes to sex, nipple play, praise.
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“Look who’s finally back..” Lucifer says with a smile as they spot you come in through the heavy throneroom doors. You came in with a returning smile and a few bags in your hands, which were quickly taken off you and dropped off in your shared room by one of the maids.
“Happy to see me?” “Overjoyed. Every second here without you is torture.”
“Well you can’t blame hell for being hell!” You mused as you approached the devil.
“I can, and I shall. I’m always happy to be accompanied by you, my love.”
“Will you let me put on a little show for you?” You smiled as you moved into your devil’s lap. “A show?” They asked in an amused tone, tilting their head as one of their hands caressed your cheek.
“Mhm!” You nodded. Nuzzling against it, you placed a kiss on their palm. “A show. So you can see all the lovely clothes I brought back from the living.”
“Ah, a fashion show, just for me? I do believe I would enjoy that.” They nodded as you moved off their lap, keeping a hand on theirs as you quickly ushered them to your private quarters. They followed along without issue.
Once you arrived, Lucifer was a bit forcefully pushed to sit on the bed, your excitement getting the better of you. “That’s no way to treat your lord, angel.” Lucifer said with a quirked brow, tilting their head curiously your way.
You loved it so much when they did that adorable headtilt.
“It’s no way to treat my lover! I apologize sincerely. If my fashion show doesn’t make it up to you, I’ll let you choose a reward as compensation.” You played along, placing a hurried kiss to their cheek before running along into your unnecessarily large closet to get changed, the bags already being placed inside.
“Pick a color!” You yelled from the closet. Lucifer chuckled. “Any color?”
“Well I don’t have every color. But I might have the one you pick! Or something similar..”
“Oh alright.” They entertained.
“I’ll say... red.” Of course they would. Who is Lucifer without their signature red, black and white colors?
“Perfect choice, my love. As always.” You were more than prepared for this.
You slipped on the most conservative one you had first. ‘Slipped’ is the wrong word for it, considering these things were half impossible to put on. But you managed.
A simple deep red, lacy, one piece with quite the lot of holes, but not in the necessary places.
You looked at yourself in the mirror once, and then thrice to make sure everything was as it should, before you made a rather dramatic strut out of the closet doors.
Lucifer’s smile reached their eyes at your behavior. The piece suited you beautifully but it was all about how you wore it. “Oh so this is how it’s going to be?”
“I told you, red was a very wise color.” You nodded and they motioned you to come closer.
As you did, Lucifer’s hands found your waist, where the lingerie has the cut outs to show your stunning skin. “Very nice… I’m already loving every second of this.” The touch made a shiver go up your spine, and you looked at their face, studying the fit on your body.
They turned you in their arms, getting a full view of what you had on. The back was pretty and simple aswell. Not much revealed but still appreciated by them. “Delightful. You might be pardoned for pushing me onto the bed because of this.”
“Oh no don’t forgive me yet, I have a few more!” Lucifer hummed. “How many is a few?”
“Mm.. it’s a surprise!” You smiled, turning to face them once more. “A surprise… Alright I’ll bite. Go on and get changed.”
And so you went. You very purposely picked out lingerie in their three colors, of course. So you had two more left to show. And you’d leave the white for last.
Next up was a cute black one. A two piece. It had a big, Star-shaped cut out in the center of the chest, your nipples just peaking from the corners of it. It was slightly uncomfortable, you’d admit. The way the fabric rubbed against you was providing a special type of feeling.
The bottoms were a little more risky, having a star pattern all over that showcased almost all of your skin.
“Turn for me, angel.” You did as asked and Lucifer’s hands moved down your hips and ass, which was on full display, giving a gentle squeeze. “Now this.. is a beautiful view. What made you choose the stars, sweetheart?”
“Isn’t it just adorable! And well.. you are the Morningstar. I thought it fit quite nicely.”
Lucifer nodded along as you spoke. “Yes, yes it does. Very lovely choice this one. I hope to be seeing it again very soon.”
You giggled, pulling yourself away from their arms. “Alright, one more left. Then you’ll get to touch and hold me all you want.”
“I like that idea. Go ahead, angel.”
The white one went on easier, perhaps because there was significantly less fabric to mess with. This one was quite the piece. The most revealing you had, definitely.
Lucifer’s jaw was practically on the floor when you stepped out. It was a tree piece, the bra could barely be considered a bra, it was more like a few thin straps barely holding together. For only decoration since your nipples were revealed by small heart shaped cut outs. The lower half was once again barely held up by some tiny string on each side that went over your hips, your breasts on full display, and a bigger heart shaped cut out, was exposing your mound.
You didn’t bother to wait for them to call you closer, instead you freely moved towards them, giving a little twirl to show all of it. The backside was basically naked if not for a few straps that held the garment together. And what caught their eye for a moment was the pearly and white garter you had wrapped around your thigh.
“You saved the best for last.” Lucifer said after regaining their composure. Their eyes practically eating you up as you stood before them. You hummed. “Do you really think so?” Lucifer nodded quickly. Their hands gripping on your skin, which was far from gentle but very much welcome. “Yes, definitely.”
“The white looks beautiful on your skin… it’s decorating your body just so nicely. Not hiding a thing from me but giving me more to see, yes. This is certainly my favorite.” And how they could’ve continued rambling on about its perfection for years to come.
“What a cute little thing… shall I slide it off with my teeth?” Lucifer murmured as they snapped the garter around your thighs, giving you a small sting. “Later, maybe…”
“No. Now. Right now.” Their voice showed urgency as they pulled you to straddle just one of their thighs. The feeling of your bare cunt against them could send them straight back to heaven.
Lucifer’s lips were quick to meet your chest. Warm mouth wrapping around your soft nipples that were just so readily available to them. They delighted in the way you gasped in pleasure, tangling your hands into their hair and holding them against your chest.
“Oh I-“ you released a shaky breath, closing your eyes. “I believe I’ve been convinced…”
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daydream-cement · 10 months
Text
Adored (NSFW)
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
You wish to be dominated and owned by Lucifer.
Authors Note: No one requested this, but my brain is a whorehouse.
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You were pleasantly surprised by the rapid pacing of your sex life with Lucifer. For months they had taken their time, slowly progressing to their physical intimacy, but it all came to a head a few weeks ago when your hunger for Lucifer outweighed your brain telling you to wait it out. 
The Lightbringer was unbelievably gentle and sweet with you the first time, but as the two began opening up in the bedroom, you had unlocked a particularly rough part of your romantic partner. What started as a light choking had progressed to bondage and Lucifer dominating every part of your being… and you couldn’t have loved it more.
You felt insatiable, needing Lucifer’s hands on you in every spare moment. You felt like you had gone a lifetime without water and now at the first sip, you realized how thirsty you were. 
Tonight you had a special surprise for Lucifer, who was reading in the bed you had recently begun to share. You had purchased a new dildo for their strapon and you had bought herself a new leather lingerie set. The crisscrossing straps outlined your breasts and crotch while also decorating the rest of your torso. 
You were jittering with nervous excitement as you emerged from the bathroom, your bottom lip gripped between your teeth as you awaited Lucifer’s reaction to the new outfit. When the ruler didn’t glance up at your return to the bedroom, you saw it fit to clear your throat and use a term of endearment for the Morningstar to catch their attention, “Ahem… dearest…”
“Mm?” Lucifer hummed, their focus unwavering from the book in their hands.
You chuckled at the focus they had for their novel. You weren't interested in sharing Lucifer’s attention with anyone or anything else tonight. Rather you made your way to the foot of the bed and crawled up onto the mattress, cooing for Lucifer once more, only this time you used a new nickname, “Oh, sweetness…” 
Lucifer’s eyes flickered up from their book, and you had to smirk at the quiet Latin phrase mumbled under Lucifer’s breath, “Salus mea advenit…” 
You continued your journey into Lucifer’s lap, earning the full attention of the larger being beneath you as Lucifer marked their page and discarded the book on their nightstand. As you straddled the Lightbringer’s lap, you couldn’t help but feel butterflies at the way the Morningstar was admiring your body. Your breath hitched as Lucifer took a few agonizingly long minutes to look over every exposed inch of your body before laying a finger on you.
“Absolutely delectable you look…” Lucifer hummed as they allowed their fingers to trace the outlines of the leather straps.
Your eyes snapped shut at the compliment and your whole body tensed as you awaited Lucifer’s hands on your bare skin. The first brush of Lucifer’s fingers against your skin was against your stomach and then again over your waist. Prying your eyes open, you looked down to Lucifer and saw the Morningstar’s attention was entirely captured by your body. 
Their hands continued to ghost all over until they finally landed on your breasts, “Look at your pretty self…”
Lucifer’s tone sent a shiver down your spine. It was filled with so much admiration, but you knew it held a hunger that would lead to you pinned against the mattress being fucked into oblivion.
The Morningstar’s hands fell away from your breasts, ghosting over your sides, and back around to skim over your ass to land on the backs of your thighs. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling of the Lightbringer cupping your thighs. Lucifer’s hands made you feel incredibly small, a strange and wonderful sensation. “Beautiful legs, beautiful breasts…”
Lucifer’s hands lingered on your legs, taking their time with the anatomy they loved so much. Their hands glided up and down the backs of your thighs, fingertips coming achingly close to your bare heat before drifting away again. You found it so tantalizing that your breathing quickened and you needed to brace herself by placing your hands on Lucifer’s shoulders.
The Morningstar took advantage of the new proximity and lowered their lips to your nipple. Their words ghosted over your flesh before they pulled the sweet bud into their mouth, “Mmm… perfect, perfect, perfect as far as the eye can see…”
The praise caused you to release a whine - there was nothing you loved more than compliments and affirmations from the Lightbringer. Weaving your hands into Lucifer’s blonde curls, you hummed and whimpered at the teasing of their mouth. You became lost in the sensation and as time passed, you began to rock your hips against Lucifer’s lap, unconsciously seeking friction.
The movement stirred something in Lucifer and their hands began shifting upward along with their mouth. Lucifer nipped and sucked across your chest and collarbone, leaving behind fresh bruises to accompany the others from the nights before.
Lucifer’s voice was low, breath grazing over your neck as their fingers gently rolled your nipples between their thumb and forefinger. “I could make you mine, and I know you’d like that, hm?” 
You nodded vigorously, wrapping your arms tighter around the Lightbringer’s neck and grinding your hips downward once again. You were hoping to catch their attention to make it aware that you needed the Morningstar’s touch desperately. 
“So desperate...”
You suddenly found yourself on your back, splayed across the king size bed for the Morningstar to use at their pleasure. Lucifer’s hands glided over your torso, feeling every exposed inch of skin while their eyes focused on your body with an intensity you had never experienced before. One would almost think that they had never seen you naked with the way they focused on your body. 
Even though the Lightbringer was touching your non-erogenous zones, you felt herself dripping at the prospect that the being above you was admiring you. Lucifer worked their way down until they were seated between your legs, lifting the right leg up for them to begin kissing their way up towards your inner thigh. The Morningstar adored how time consuming it was to kiss all the way up your leg and was happy to repeat the same process on the left. 
You were trying your best to keep still (knowing Lucifer was happy to punish you for squirming too much), but it felt nearly impossible as your arousal grew. They were setting every cell of your being on fire with each kiss. Never had your body been worshiped or cared for like this.  
As Lucifer made their way to your inner thigh, they sucked at the tender flesh, leaving large dark marks in their wake. Your body had been marked to high heaven by the Lightbringer as a physical display of how you were all theirs. You felt Lucifer pause for a moment, the Morningstar’s cheek resting against your inner thigh as they reveled in the beauty that was you.
You were earnest in your begging, “Please… Please, my devil… I need you to touch me please.” 
“Mmm… Such a needy little love.” Lucifer teased, their fingers running the length of your wet and swollen cunt. It was obvious how turned on you were. 
“Maybe we should get you out of this.” They spoke and there was a jerk, a snapping sound, and you felt yourself come free of the lingerie. Glancing down, you saw Lucifer pulling apart the lingerie until it lay on either side of you, shredded by their strength. “There is just something about you being completely bare for me.”
“Fuck.” You groaned, not from being upset at the destruction of the outfit, but from the display of strength from the Morningstar. 
“Look at you…” Lucifer breathed, their fingers slipping in your slit to feel the wetness growing there. 
“You make me so wet… You make me so wet. You know just how to touch me… You know just how to make me feel good… No one has ever made me feel as good as you do.” You were falling apart at the seams, hoping you could say something to make Lucifer touch you the way you needed.
Lucifer only chuckled in response, their index finger slowly plunging into you to test just how ready you were to be fucked. As always after even a short while of touching, one finger slid in with ease, causing you to mewl out. Smirking, Lucifer chose to slowly add another, resulting in you gripping at the sheets and moaning even louder. 
Resting their head against your thigh, Lucifer began to alternate between slowly fucking you with their fingers and teasing you with light pressure against your clit. You were struggling to maintain control of yourself at the new type of teasing as you felt an orgasm come close and pull away with each alternation. The Morningstar couldn’t help themself when they lowered their lips to your clit; they needed a taste of you. They sucked at the bundle of nerves as they pumped their fingers in and out of your cunt, watching your back arched as the edging finally subsided and you were allowed to experience the bliss of an orgasm.
Pulling their mouth away from your clit, they continued fucking you with their fingers, not wanting to let up on the stimulation until you were entirely done with sex for the evening. “Are you ready, lamb?”
“Mhmm. Please, I need you to fuck me.” You begged. It wasn’t until you started having sex that you realized you could come from penetrative sex. Since then, you craved the sensation like the air you breathed.
You whimpered when Lucifer’s warmth left you. The towering being crossed the room and pulled the harness from a drawer, raising their eyes and smirking when they saw the new addition to the sex toy drawer: a dildo larger than you had ever taken before. One that you were dreading with sweet anticipation.
When the Morningstar returned to the bedside with the cock now attached to their body, they couldn’t help but smirk at the you beneath them, “So desperate to be filled, aren’t you, lamb?”
You were hesitant in your response, only giving a brief nod as you bit your bottom lip. You spread your legs to invite Lucifer between them, hoping the Morningstar would be gentle. 
Settling between your legs, Lucifer teased the cock at your entrance, smirking as they watched your thighs clench each time the head of the cock slipped past your entrance. “You look so pretty all spread out for me.”
You couldn’t help yourself when you reached down and grasped Lucifer by the wrist, halting them from pushing the head of the massive cock into your pussy. Your face must have told Lucifer everything they needed to know about your concerns as they leaned back on their heels, shaking their head. The Morningstar pulled your hand away from their wrist with one hand and pushed the head of the cock into your cunt with the other. 
Once Lucifer was sure the cock wouldn’t slip out, they leaned forward, taking your hands in their own and pinning them above your head. Their voice sounded so kind and soothing, but the words made you ache deep in your core, “Don’t worry, my child. I shall make it fit…”
Your arms wrapped around their neck while your legs wrapped around Lucifer’s waist, pulling the larger being into a desperate and sloppy kiss. You couldn’t help but moan into the Lightbringer’s mouth when they pushed the cock all the way into your cunt, only stopping when the hilt hit your entrance. 
All of it. The whole cock was buried in you and you were aching in pain. You needed a reprieve. 
Lucifer began the slow steady process of creating a pace for you. They braced their forearms on either side of your head and slowly began pulling out and pushing back in. Tears were still forming in your eyes, even as you began to adjust to the full size. The final two inches were still too much, but you were going to take it all for the Morningstar. 
When you felt yourself relax into the pacing, you finally gave Lucifer the green light to fuck and use you as you saw fit. “Harder, dearest… Please fuck me harder…”
Lucifer only needed to be told once. 
In one swift motion, Lucifer maneuvered your legs into place, pushing them back far enough that your knees were nearly touching your chest. From there they began their assault on your cunt, not providing any mercy to your moaning and drooling self beneath them. 
The only word you were able to get out was ‘fuck’ and it came out strangled and whiny, over and over, as it blended with your other moans and cries. 
You had never experienced such animalistic sex. It almost made you wish that Lucifer had a real cock so you could encourage them to come deep inside of you. You felt the need to be bred. You felt the need to be claimed. You felt the need to be owned by the Morningstar. 
Lucifer was ruthless in their pacing and the sound of the strap sliding in and out of your soaked cunt was music to their ears. You were becoming far too blissed out and overwhelmed to make a sound.
They were fucking you with an unmatched level of brutality and you knew you would never be able to live without it. You were folded and manipulated into a position only attempted by professional acrobats, allowing the strap to reach parts of your cunt that you hadn’t known existed. 
The fucking lasted for a good hour and you was beyond overstimulated. Brain numbing orgasm after brain numbing orgasm, the pleasurable sensations were soured by how overwhelming everything was. All you could do was claw at Lucifer’s back and choke out your pleas for the ruler to stop their ministrations, “P-please- Plea-Please.. S-s-top. Lu-AH-Lucifer… Stop!” 
You were regretting not creating a safeword with Lucifer prior, but the relationship was so new that it hadn’t come up until now. The Morningstar continued their relentless assault on your cunt, resulting in you planting your hands on Lucifer’s cheeks and begging them to stop once more with an elevated intensity to your tone. The Lightbringer slowed their pacing instantly, gently de-escalating their thrusts to ease you into them pulling out.
Your chest heaved as you clung to Lucifer, hugging them tight as you tried to pull yourself together and stretched out your legs. Your brain felt fuzzy and your legs ache from the position the Morningstar had placed you in. You knew full well you were going to feel tonight’s activities for the next couple days.
“…thank you…”  You sighed, your fingers raking through Lucifer’s hair as the Morningstar settled their cheek between your breasts. The Morningstar’s only response being a curt nod and a squeeze to your hips.
You were physically spent and even through your groggy thoughts, you could only think of how much you adored Lucifer. This being who had spent hours ravishing you was more tender with you than anyone else you knew. You wanted to give all of yourself to Lucifer in a way you had never given yourself before.
“Would you like to date? Uhm… I mean- Would you like to be an official couple?” You tried to pull away any vulnerability from the question, hoping the Morningstar wouldn’t sense that you were desperate for them to say yes.
Lucifer raised themself off your chest, staring down at you with a blend of curiosity and admiration. “I would adore to be your partner. And I would adore if you were to be mine.” 
The confidence in Lucifer’s answer made you feel light and giddy in a way that you hadn’t felt in years. You pulled the Morningstar’s face to yours, allowing you to lock lips for a moment. 
When you parted, the Lightbringer slipped off you to lay at your side, which you took immediate advantage of, snuggling your body into the crook of their arm to lay your head on their shoulder.
“I adore you, dearest...”
“I adore you, starlight…”
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darlingdekarios · 10 months
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reverie.
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rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 3,209 content: Morpheus / Dream of the Endless x f!reader, established relationship, sleep deprivation, mention of medication abuse, angry & possessive Dream, porn with plot, smut [throne sex, oral - giving, fingering - receiving, unprotected p in v]
what you'd intended to be a lesson taught to him Dream of the Endless turns to a lesson for you.
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“Why have you been hiding yourself from me?” the familiar cadence filled your ears before the vision took form before you. The fog cleared, you could easily make out the mess of dark hair atop his head, his skin radiant in the eternal night glow, the stars shining in his eyes. Morpheus, the King of Dreams, perched on his throne as he awaited your response – one that you would have been foolish to think he wouldn’t demand eventually.
You’d last seen him an entire moon past, the weeks the first in eons that Morpheus found himself conscious of the passing time, and while in the larger scale of existence the time that passed meant nothing, to Morpheus, those were the first weeks he felt the pain of a ticking clock. You’d done everything to repress your dreams, to stay away from him, following the argument that the two of you had the last time you were together. The direct cause didn’t matter anymore, all that either of you had clung to was the heart of it all – Morpheus was a petty being. And though you were not Endless like he, that pettiness was only matched by your own.
You’d been taking a cocktail of medications and weed to numb your sleep at first, a successful attempt at withholding your mind from the Dreaming. When even that was overpowered by Morpheus, you’d opted for stimulants to force yourself to stay awake – though you were only human, and the sleep deprivation consumed you into the deep sleep you found yourself in now soon enough. It was never going to be forever, your punishment of him, your attempt at matching his attitude where it was…but you had to hope that it would communicate enough.
“I was dissatisfied at our last encounter in the Waking World, King of Dreams,” you gave your response as your feet carried you up several of the stairs to him, testing his anger. “You were not very kind to me.”
“And so, your response…” he began, his fingers twitching against the arms of his throne. His voice held no hint to indicate just how angry he was, and so you continued up the stairs in hope to make out his porcelain features soon enough. “Was to return my…shortcoming, with cruelty of your own?”
You knew he was likely to pick up on the playful smile that covered your features as it reached your voice – but you also didn’t care. “Precisely, my King. It only seemed fair.”
“Hmm,” he mused, attempting to cover the slight smile behind his voice as well. Though he’d seldom admit it, your quickness to mirror his own behavior when he deserved it often entertained him. “I suppose I did deserve to be withheld from you. And yet, it must be said that this long without you…it has been cruel.”
As he came into your view, the features of his face less indicative than you’d hoped, you approached with slow and intentional steps until you were just before him. Slowly sinking to your knees before him you gazed up between your lashes, your cheeks glowing the exact shade he always loved to see. If he were less angry, less petty, he would reach out to brush his fingers along one now – but the harshness of his mood toward your over-punishment had faltered far less than you’d hoped. Biting your bottom lip between your teeth briefly in nervousness, burning under the intensity of his eyes, you placed your hands experimentally on his thighs, maintaining the apologetic look – one far too innocent to be truly sincere.
“I guess we both have something to be sorry for, hmm?” You inquired as your hands slid higher onto his thighs, voice soft enough to coax him toward relaxation but serious enough to communicate you weren’t going to lighten on your stance. His jaw clenched slightly, the evidence he was still unwilling to falter himself.
“I learned my lesson weeks ago when you were simply numbing yourself from me, little one,” he chastised, his fingers twitching against his throne again as his want to touch you grew. Though he could now speak quietly – only to you – the anger present in his voice was now evident as he knew his words were only for you. “Your behavior these past couple of days…this absolute disregard for yourself…is what needs to be addressed now.”
“Are you angry because you were worried for my safety, my King?”
The question was taunting, attempting to push him into giving into you. With your hands sliding up his thighs as you leaned forward, reaching one hand to work open the button of his pants, it was growing harder to ignore the burn he felt for you.
“I am angry,” he began, eager to communicate what he needed to before his rough exterior completely faltered around you. “Because you threaten to harm someone very dear to me.”
“Those are different words for the same thing, Morpheus,” you taunted as you pressed a meaningful kiss to the top of his thigh, a quiet apology that he already knew you felt. One of his hands finally reached to grasp the hair at the back of your head, pulling you to rise to your knees until your face was mere inches from his. His grasp firm and a stern tone behind his words he leaned forward to brush the tip of his nose against yours, eyes piercing yours as his other hand reached to work his pants free from his waist.
“I do not enjoy being deprived of you,” he asserted as his hand at the back of your head slid to grasp your chin between his thumb and forefinger, an intensity and seriousness behind his eyes you’d never seen before…which was impressive considering intense and serious were in his nature. Behind it all lingered the anger still. “Do not do it again.”
You could barely bring yourself to nod, lost in the endless galaxies in his eyes, your mind desperately trying to focus on his words despite the fact that every cell that made up your body could do nothing but yearn for him. His grasp did not falter, his gaze holding yours still as he leaned forward to claim your lips in a heated, angry kiss, his desperation for you seeping through his every movement. Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching at the exquisite black fabric of the simple sweater he’d adorned himself in that day as you returned his kiss.
You began to trail your kisses down his perfectly smooth neck as he released his hold on your chin, both of his hands finding their way to your shoulders as you found yourself free of clothing. With an impatient tug at his shirt, you nipped at the skin of his neck eagerly, hoping your intent was clear without words. Thankfully, he took your sign to remove his shirt, leaving him gloriously bare before you. Your kisses trailed down the impossibly perfect frame before you until you reached his waist, placing a final kiss on his hip as one of your hands grasped his awaiting cock.
An impatient groan left his chest as his hand found the back of your head again, turning it toward his hardened length as his simple instruction – “open” – filled your ears and mind itself. Every movement he made was indicative of the anger he still harbored for you, and while your mind had to wonder if allowing the Endless his way was beneficial long-term, it was silenced by your fulfilled instinct to wrap your mouth around him.
As much as you loved listening to his voice, the sounds that left his mouth were the finest of them all – particularly the repressed groan that left erupted from his chest as your gaze connected with his once again. Grasping his fingers into your hair he thrust his hips up, pushing his cock further into your mouth and into your throat to urge you forward. Your pleasured moan vibrated through his body, your hands reaching to grasp his thighs as he found solace in the warmth of your mouth. As he began to repeat his thrusts into your mouth, he ensured you held his gaze, drinking in the sight of you coming undone for him – the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as he refamiliarized himself with your mouth, the drool dripping down your chin; perfectly imperfect and entirely for him.
“Don’t you know what you’re doing to me?” He inquired, fully aware that the only response you would offer were your fingernails digging into the tops of his thighs. “I do not wish to be angry with you, beloved.”
With a thrust hard enough, assuredly, to bruise your throat he pulled his throbbing cock free of your mouth, tilting your head back to look at his still-hardened face. Fighting for a proper breath you reached your hands to rest on his on either side of your face, nodding with your lips partially open in confirmation that you understood – pushing him this far was not an option again. He pulled you upward to reconnect your lips to his he kissed you harshly, releasing your face once you’d fully submitted to his kiss to lower his hands to grasp your hips.
Climbing to straddle his waist you immediately felt the intense wave of heat that rushed to your core. A blissful sigh slipped from your lips, your hands reaching to grasp into his tousled hair as ivory fingers slipped between your folds to test how wet you’d become for him. Ending at your clit and rubbing a gentle circle around the nub, there was no holding back your desperate moan which he gladly swallowed into the kiss.
“Although, I do think you enjoy when I’m angry with you,” he proclaimed as he released the kiss, his fingers sliding back toward your entrance to dip his forefinger into you teasingly. “Just feel how wet you are for me.”
Your hips jerked to his again, whimpering quietly at his long finger inside you, curling tantalizingly slow against the velvety patch within you, enjoying the way your mouth fell open for him once again and your eyes fluttered closed. Your hips jerked toward his hand, desperate for anything more he would offer you to take – the Dream Lord was often amused by your greed for his attentions. The friction of his palm against your clit pulled another moan from you, your hands grasping his shoulders desperately to steady yourself without his aid, hoping his hands would focus elsewhere.
Though he adored grasping your hips, he released his hold of you there to slide his unoccupied hand to your chest, cupping one of your breasts delicately as his cold thumb rubbed over your already-stiffened nipple. Somewhat bemused by the goosebumps that erupted across your skin at the feeling he took the nub between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it between the digits carefully before giving a harsh pinch – just as a second finger was added into your wet heat. Rolling your hips, you became keenly aware of the quiet, moaned pleas that were leaving your mouth, though the words sounded so foreign – it was always this way with him in the Dreaming, where nearly everything was too good to be true.
His fingers thrust into you expertly, his memory serving him well to remind him of all the ways to perfectly bend your body to his will until he felt your thighs begin to shake. As your walls clenched around his fingers ever-so-slightly tighter and your breathing hitched in your throat he removed his hand from your core, clicking his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly before leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. Once again, his tone was quiet – eerily resonating within your thoughts, almost as if Morpheus was inside your head, as well.
“Given how you’ve behaved so poorly these last weeks,” he began, his lips brushing yours in a tormentingly light kiss as he spoke. “Do you not think that you should have to beg me for your release?”
“Dream,” you whimpered, using the name only those closest to him seemed to these days, regretting the extra days you’d made yourself stay away from him. Your hips thrust toward his stilled hand, desperate for friction and to release the ecstasy that he’d built in you – though all you were met with was another opaque hum from his chest. “Please.”
You had to admit, you may have deserved the light smile that played on his lips – and despite its lightly sinister nature, you fawned at the realization he was beginning to falter for you. “I do enjoy the sounds of your pleas, little one. Perhaps you have more for me.”
A desperate whimper slipped through your lips as you attempted to seek a full kiss from him, your core grinding against his hand before he pulled it away entirely, grasping his admittedly throbbing cock in his hand. The view of his marble-esque hand around his own cock, languidly pumping himself as his eyes connected with yours, perhaps darker now than you had seen them before, always drove you to new depths of need for him – and you supposed that was quite the point.
“Please, Dream,” you whined, moving your kisses to his angled jaw where you knew he would not stop you. Your kisses trailed to his ear, breaths hot and desperate against the skin as you nibbled at his ear lobe. “I’ve learned my lesson, and I will never deny you again. Please, don’t deny me now. I cannot bare another moment.”
Turning his head to capture your lips in a heated kiss he guided his cock to your entrance, thrusting upward into your well-slickened walls entirely in one motion with a deep, appreciative groan. Your surprised cry bounced off the walls of the large chamber you sat in still, hands grasping at his shoulders as you accepted every inch of him until his velvety head knocked against your cervix. Normally, he would claim you in his bed, enjoying the look of you sprawled beautifully against his dark sheets – but tonight, his show of power included you riding his cock on his throne, knowing it would impart some message into your mind.
“You see how I reward you when you listen,” he groaned, his hand on your hip encouraging you to move your hips against his the moment he felt you adjust to him. With the perfect grind of your waist, he grasped at your hip tighter, his free hand reaching to grasp at the back of your head. Entangling his fingers in your hair he pulled backward slightly, leaning forward to press light kisses up the center of your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume as he went. “It could be this way always if you simply trusted in my desires for you.”
Unable to refute his argument you nodded as best you could with his grasp on your hair, lifting yourself off of his length temporarily before dropping down, rolling your hips to emphasize the movement. His grasp tightened in both places he held, his hips thrusting up into yours wantonly as he found himself unable to resist the temptation to give into you fully – after all, you were listening to him so well now. You moaned his name – several of his names – as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, your eyes rolling back slightly at the repeated feeling of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot within.
Still somewhat angry he’d had to wait this long to claim you again, his thrusts became relentless, nearly forgetting that it was possible to hurt you too much – not that you would ever complain about what he wanted to give you. Pushing your head forward again he slotted his lips against yours, his tongue immediately seeking the taste he’d missed for so many hours – wondering if you knew that was truly what dreams were made of. You were certain from his pace that in the morning you would wake with bruised hips, unable to go about your usual activities or obligations – though if you’d complained, Dream would assert the only obligation that truly mattered was the one you held to one another.
It never took him long to push you to orgasm when he decided it was time, and now was no exception – your walls fluttering around him with embarrassing speed as your thighs began to shake again. Your moans became lighter, shorter, more feral as your nails dragged down his chest, clamoring for anything to grab onto before they slid back up and around his neck. As your own fingers found their way into his hair and you gave a light tug your ears were filled with a prolonged moan, his head falling forward shortly after to connect his lips above your pulse. His words were quiet, deliciously convincing and seductive directly in your ear – an effect you knew he was striving for.
“Let me treat you as art, beloved,” he groaned, sucking his mark into his chosen spot on your neck. “I wish to paint your walls with my release. If you will permit me that, you may cum for me.”
All you could do was nod, moaning his name in affirmation as your walls clenched around him tighter, silently begging him to reach his end with you. As his thrusts became harsher and sloppier you tugged at his hair slightly again, thighs shaking nearly uncontrollably as his hand at your hip slid to use his thumb to rub circles against your clit. Throwing your head back in pleasure his name left your mouth as slightly less than a scream as euphoria rushed over you, your walls clamping around him as you felt him release ropes of hot cum within you accompanied with a groan.
You collapsed against his chest when you’d both finished, burying your face in his neck and whispering a quiet thank you as his black cloak appeared around your shoulders, shielding you from the cold and wrapping you up within him. Moments later – impossibly fast – you found yourself against the satin sheets of his bed, unbelievable comfort encompassing you as he held you against him with one arm around your waist. Once he was satisfied with your stabilized breathing he reached his free hand to cup your face in his hand, urging you to look him in the eye before exhaustion took you over.
“Do not deny me again, little one,” he spoke, his words gentler than before and yet still firm, his fingers brushing against your cheek tenderly in the gentlest motion he’d offered that night. “My lesson will not be as kind the second time.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you promised, the choice of words intentionally coaxing a light smile onto his face, reserved only for those who truly held his affections. Pulling you closer with arms around your waist he ushered you to relaxation, watching as your eyes closed again before he leaned forward to place gentle kisses against each of your eyelids.
“I will join you in the Waking World, beloved.”
The night was full of dreams, and your day would be endless reverie.
masterlist.
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withoutyouimsaskia · 2 months
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Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 2)
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4
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​GIF: Originally posted by @harleytudinous
Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader
Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)
Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dream manipulation. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Plot related cigarette use. Dubious consent.
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: So I know I initially billed this as a two shot but the story has run away with me in the most lovely way. Part 3 will be coming soon. Thank you for all your kind responses to part 1, it honestly means so much to me. Hope you enjoy this one too. All my love, Saskia xx
Sandman Masterlist
---------------------------------------------
The veil of sleep comes down upon your weary body with a feather-light touch, trying to coax your mind back into the world of dreams.
Dreamscapes have been a whole new experience for you in the past month of your life. Before, you would wake with no recollection of what had played out. Not even the slightest inkling. Now, you remember everything.
They are staggering; bursting with details and ideas beyond your most outlandish daytime imaginings. The emotions that are conjured by them, both when asleep and also awake are just as bold.
And even though it's been 23 nights since it started you are still finding them predominantly jarring and disorientating. You are baffled by how other people cope with the sheer vividness. The unpredictability. Maybe they have become desensitised. You can only hope that the same will happen for you in time.
One thing you tell yourself with each sunrise:
Thank goodness they weren't nightmares.
At least, you don't think they are. There's no resemblance between yours and what you have heard others describe over the years, nor to those outlined in a dream decoding book you had checked out of the library last week. There's no obvious threat or fear. No re-living of traumatic events. Just weird subtext.
The first dream found you standing barefoot on a beach. A mirage distorted the particulars of the scene making it impossible to see further than half a meter in front of you. The temperature of the sand under your soles was verging on painful and as such, it forced you to walk into the unknown before you.
A groaning wind started to brew and lifted the sand into sparkling flurries. You shielded your eyes from the abrasive particles.
The sun was at its apex when you heard the ear splitting bangs. Unmistakably gun shots; you didn't last much longer in the dream and woke with a start.
For the next week, your dreams had been like a series of video clips edited into a supercut.
Raven wings. Black cats. Hellfire. Ruby red glow. Sprawling library shelves. Landscapes hewn by earthquake fissures. Hotel corridors. A handsome, blond haired man wearing sunglasses, holding a blood covered knife.
If you didn't know any better, you would begin to suspect that your new box of tea bags had been laced with a psychedelic. Alas, no. Your hypothesis was unequivocally disproved when you friends had been completely unaffected after stopping by for a Sunday afternoon catch up.
This quick fire of snapshots eventually stopped, transforming into lucid long form dreams. You often think back to the first one where it happened.
Standing in the the empty room, and the appearance of the figure dressed in black. The colour that had flashed in their midnight eyes had the quality of liquid silver. Sometimes you wonder if you see the same image in other dreams, standing in amongst a crowd.
From that point on, regardless of what dream you are in, you cannot shake the intuitive prickle down your spine that tells you someone is watching you.
You reason that it is nothing to be concerned about. Humans dream, and you cannot deny that some of them - swimming in a sea of clouds, re-visiting childhood haunts, trying out superpowers - have been quite fun.
You roll over on to your left side and close your eyes.
You dream.
The room you see is expansive in breadth and depth. Impressive windows bring brilliant light into the space which bounces off the ivory stone of the floors and walls. There are statues positioned at equidistant intervals, implying that the chamber is a gallery of sorts.
One effigy, fashioned from bronze, and rich in colour draws your attention. The lines and curves of its form intrigue you, despite not knowing the creature it was portraying.
You are about to move on when the feeling of being watched sparks through your skeleton.
Everything changes.
Clarity gives way to haze. Sun is swapped for moon.
You see a man across the room. He stands with a perfect posture. Graceful, powerful. His elbows are bent, fingers interlaced, palms facing upwards. Sheer black fabric floats around his frame. It moves languidly, giving glimpses of his bare body beneath.
The man's face is imperceptible. The distance between you too great but somehow you know you are the focus of his attention.
His robes fall to the floor with a gossamer sigh. The pale, unmarked skin of his slight form glows beautifully in the moonlight. You look down in embarrassment as arousal flushes through you, and you see that you are suddenly as naked as he is.
You gasp, and snap your gaze back up.
The sight you see is rather unexpected. The man is intimately touching himself.
You feel compelled to mirror him. You immediately reach between your legs. The man groans as you make contact.
All it takes is a little bit of attention on your clit before you are ready to slide two fingers into your core. The noise you make at the feeling of the stretch is salacious. The man echoes you with a sound that is just as dirty.
It spurs you on and you burrow deeper.
You curl your fingers until your legs are weak and quivering. You long to sink to your knees so you can finish in a more comfortable position yet you can't. An invisible force is preventing you.
It keeps you on display.
Just like the statues to your left.
You wonder if it is for the man's benefit.
You try to focus on him but it is impossible to do so through the trembling glaze over your eyes. All you are able to sense from him now is the sound of the rhythmic pump of his palm around his cock and his panting breaths.
Desperate whines escape your lips. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm but you can't seem to lose your balance and fall into the abyss. The unsteadiness in your legs is too much of a distraction. You rub at your clit again in the hope that it will bring the satisfaction you need.
It does nothing.
You are so frustrated by your body's disobedience that it is almost painful.
"Please. Please. Please," you mutter under your breath.
A voice suddenly speaks next to you ear. A velvet voice with the timbre of a thunder rumble. It pours like a soothing syrup into your brain and commands you to do exactly as it bids.
"Let go."
You climax intensely, crying out in relief, squirting all over your fingers and onto your hand as you legs finally give way.
The fall jolts you back into consciousness and you wake with a barely contained scream of pleasure in your throat and adrenaline lighting up your nervous system.
Daylight is peeking through a little gap in the curtains. You take a deep, grounding breath.
That was obscene.
The context, the actions, the sounds. That sultry voice at the end. From the throbbing in your vulva and the twitching of your legs it seems like you didn't just finish in the dream.
There is really no point in looking it up in the dream decoding book.
You were clearly horny on a subconscious level. Or craving attention, hence the exhibitionist behaviour. The latter is not usually in your nature to seek out but if it is the reason, you might not have to wait long before the desire is fulfilled. There is a work event happening this evening that may require you to accept an award and address the crowd.
You love this time of year where community projects get recognition; a nomination alone is a sure-fire way of garnering publicity which in turn helps the charity's outreach.
But first, a normal day at the office. You throw back the covers and go straight to the bathroom to rinse off the evidence of your wet dream.
---------------------------------------------
Your right hand connects with the metal push plate of the function space's front door. The heels of your boots click and clack as you cross the threshold, moving from floor board to paving slab.
It's fortuitous that you brought a long, thick coat with you this evening for the wind is wintery and unforgiving. You stay close to the wall of the building to try and shelter from it as much as possible.
The pavements are slick with recent precipitation, streetlamps bouncing off of the water with caustic white light.
Then you see him; a figure cut from shadow.
He's breathing in such a laboured way that you wonder if he is sick.
Your phone is still inside the venue, currently being guarded by a colleague along with your bag but it wouldn't take long to retrieve it and call for medical assistance.
"You okay?" Concern colours the simple question.
His reply comes quickly and assertively, "I am well, thank you."
You nod, not entirely convinced for the stranger's response was as stiff as his posture, and reach inside the pocket of your coat for the box of cigarettes and lighter stashed within.
You settle one of the sticks between your lips and use your thumb to bring forth a flame. The crackle of smouldering paper and tobacco perforates the damp air and you take a needy drag. The nicotine taints and tantalises in equal measure, filling you with guilt and relief. You've been trying to give up but the little voice inside your head had won this evening. You close your eyes and focus on the pleasure it brings before flicking some ash into the tray mounted to the wall.
Your attention now back on your surroundings, the stranger steps into the scope of the streetlight. The angles of his cheekbones, jaw and nose are accentuated to an incredible extent in the gleam. His dark hair is being buffeted about the wind, locks of it very close to falling in the blue eyes that are unwaveringly trained on you. He begins to talk again, showcasing his deep baritone.
"I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you just now. It is not how I envisaged our first interaction transpiring. I hope that you can forgive me for my deception."
You laugh nervously and take another quick drag. "It makes no difference if you're honest with me or not. I don't know you."
"You are correct. You don't know me. Not yet -"
"Oh," you cut in quickly. "I'm not looking for a hook up."
While you cannot deny that he is arrestingly beautiful, you are technically working and have never been one for one-night stands.
"You mistake my meaning. I have been searching for you for so long. I oftentimes doubted your existence however I was wrong and I find myself humbled to be in your presence at last."
The grandiose declaration is one of the stranger things you have heard in your life and you used to deal with drunken patrons when you worked at a university bar. Maybe he was intoxicated; it would explain a lot.
"Look, this might work on other people but I just came out here to have a cigarette -"
It is his turn to interrupt you now. "You will have no need of those going forward. Your addiction to them will be replaced by me."
"Excuse me?"
You are trying to sound incredulous, however, inside you are rather frightened by the turn the conversation has taken. His gaze is not helping either.
The crystalline eyes are embodying every part of the descriptor; a hard, chill inducing blue. Ash drops from the smouldering cigarette as a tremble of fear rattles through you. The man sees this and the ice suddenly melts to a warmer hue.
His tone turns soft and gentle. "We are supposed to be together. Our union is fated."
He's staring at you expectantly even after your two attempts at rejection. You swiftly stub out the part-finished cigarette and take ownership in ending the interaction.
"I've had enough of this. I'm going back inside now. If you try and follow me, I will speak to the venue's management. If you are still here when I leave later, I will call the police."
You turn towards the door.
He calls your name. Your full name. Middle name too.
Despite your brain chanting at you to go inside, you can't stop yourself from looking back at him. "H-how do you know my full name?"
The profound rumble of his voice resonates deep in your ears. "I know everything about you, Y/N."
He's right in front of you now. His posture is bordering between desperate and predatory. Like he can't quite decide if he is seeking comfort from you, or if he wants to consume you.
You are fumbling behind you to find the door handle. "Please get away from me," you say hoarsely.
He reaches for your hand.
You jump back and struggle to get out of his grip but his strength is inhumanly strong. His skin of his palm is glacial against yours and yet somehow, the touch makes heat snake up your arm and settle in your chest.
You become aware of an internal feeling that you've always had, like that of chapped lips. Low level but something that constantly nags. Something that existed every minute of your life until the moment he touched you.
You grip his hand and look up at his face in astonishment.
"Good. That's it. Look into my eyes. See what you know is there."
You do as he says, totally stunned by the depths that seem to reside within them. It's as if there are universes suspended inside. Maybe there are. Perhaps you could float among the celestial bodies if you asked him to show you how.
You feel so alive and overstimulated that you welcome the delirious thoughts taking over your mind.
You welcome him.
It's like there is a cord connected between your heart and his that is shortening in length. The intensity scares you.
You obey, feet moving of their own accord and then you are standing before him, just centimetres apart.
"Give into the pull," he urges darkly, sensing your anxiety.
He smiles triumphantly and presses you flush against his body.
His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. More heat sears through you from the additional skin-on-skin contact.
Your peripheral vision closes tighter and tighter with every passing moment. The outside world is gone.
He leans in further and you wonder hazily if he is going to kiss you or break your neck. Both options are equally viable given the behaviour he has exhibited. You keep staring at him regardless.
His irises flash silver as he intones his next sentence. "Y/N, I claim you as my soulmate."
-------------------------------------
Taglist: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt
"Am I your dream girl? You think of me in bed. But you could never hold me. You like me better in your head."
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thoughtsfromlayla · 28 days
Text
26 Ways of Taking You: C for Cockwarming
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Summary: You and Dream come to a compromise after you asked for some "space." It never ends well for you, does it?
Notes: ~770 words, I kinda gave up after a while. Well maybe didn't give up but like "Well that's about it" and then called it good. Not my longest work but, still hot.
Warnings: MDNI - 18+, public intercourse (no one bats an eye though), slight humiliation, GN! reader, penetrative intercourse
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You conceal your face further as another voice follows, your hands clutched desperately onto Dream’s jacket lapel. Your face was thoroughly red, from embarrassment or greedy pleasure, you’re not entirely sure. Beneath you, Dream is going about his business as he addresses the audience for the day. All while completely ignoring your shaking form sitting on him, cock deep and pulsing within your walls. 
Ever since he escaped from the Burgess Manor a few months ago, he has not been able to keep his hands off of you. At first, it was a welcomed touch. You had missed him for those 106 years just as he missed you. But, after a while, it got a bit ridiculous. 
He followed you around like a lost puppy, hands never leaving your waist, lips wandering from lips to neck to chest. And like teenagers in love, sneaking you between crevices and aisles to have a few fast minutes of “fun time” just to satiate his touch. You had your own responsibilities to tend to, especially after the heart of the Dreaming came back. You feel as if you would have gotten a lot more done if he hadn’t always pulled you back into bed after the first few rounds of passionate lovemaking during the waking hours. 
In a desperate conversation, you asked for space so you could get a few things done. Morpheus wasn’t at all pleased with it, as he isn’t with most things that aren’t in his control. But, for his lover? He will permit it, after one more act. 
Which is how you got here, scandally clad, arms tucked between your two chests as he talks to the Dreaming residents and your arousal soaking his pants. You felt like a top teetering on top of a highly sprung string, suspended from undeniably perfect pleasure and something not quite. What made it even more unbearable is how you could feel Dream’s smugness radiating off him. 
He had a possessive hand on your lower back, something like insurance so you couldn’t easily get off him when you thought it would be too much. The other was resting on the arm of his throne as he keeps his kingly appearance. 
“Yes, that sounds like a plausible idea,” He agrees to something you weren’t paying attention to. “What do you think, darling?” 
When he asks, he shifts in his seat and his cock moves within you, just slightly. It had the promise of pleasure but was stopped short by how little he moved in you. A mixture of a whine and whimper escapes despite your bitten lip. You only respond by nodding once, barely a tick of the head. A chuckle from Dream bounces you, barely, and just like before, barely gives you the pleasure you seek. 
“If my equal agrees then you have my permission.” His free hand shoos away the resident.
When they turn, he runs a finger down your spine and asks you another question. 
“Had enough yet, my love? Or can you go for more?” It was completely condescending, to speak to you in an “I told you so” kind of tone. And even though you were practically begging at the seams of your body for some sort of friction or release of any kind, you are just as stubborn as your King. 
“No, you can keep… going!” Your last word came out as a small squeal as he suddenly thrusts up into your weeping cunt. Your eyes roll to the back as you throw your head back with a moan that flows through the air. The open air ceiling seems to taunt you and you’re sure every dream and nightmare of the realm can hear the lewd noise you just made. The statues that were carved along the column of the room seem to turn their eyes towards the two of you, making you feel all the more exposed to Morpheus’ actions.
“Very well, let us keep going.” He lays back in his chair and his legs spread further, in turn spreading you further for him as well.
You unceremoniously sink further down on him and you’re left panting into his neck. You’re close to tears at the teasing and under stimulation you were receiving. Oh, what wouldn’t you do to have your king’s full attention on you instead of living off the scraps of his shifting movements and lazy fingers stroking circles on your hip. 
“Bring the next audience in,” Dream commands, and the doors open again. 
“You are cruel, my king,” You barely sob into his body. 
“Not as cruel as you might think,” He quips with a pinch to the supple of your hip. 
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At the peak hours of 1:47 AM, Layla bought the entire 3,000 page series of The Sandman but said that it was free cause her tax refunds came back.
Good thing her major is not in finances.
♡ Yours, Layla
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Note
hello, can i request
the reader is getting frustrated because she is having trouble coming, so she tries to fake it. Morpheus figures out what she's trying to do because he knows how her pussy feels when she's tight around him, so he gets mad and stops, leaving her wanting for the next few days....then when he finally gives in , is she sharpened all night as punishment? I hope this makes some kind of sense.
Good Thing
Dream of the Endless x Reader
Summary: Lord Morpheus does not appreciate you faking it and your sweet dream turns into a nightmare.
Word Count: 2k+
Warnings: fem!reader, petty!dream, MDNI, smut (pwp, free use, overstimulation, dom/sub dynamics, light sadism, vaginal penetration, edging, temperature play, cunninglingus), typos, etc.
A/N: this has been in my drafts for ages T_T me so sorry. but ya know nonnie, what was so wild, when you sent this i was reading an aemond targaryen fic with he exact same prompt i was sent into orbit Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9
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I squirm as I am hoisted on his lap. I feel Dream's hot breath on my neck. My flesh was spilling between his fingers as he kneaded them. My hands were shaking as they latched around his neck.
He felt good. He felt so good-- he really did. But I was exhausted.
Dream brushes his nose against me, palms by the curve of my hips as he maneuvered me in sync with his movements. He snapped into me with a need that could not be quelled. His thighs and abdomen were hot and sticky with my slick. My whole body was burning with sweat and remnants of the multiple orgasms he's left me, he's left in me. He mutters against my ear, his deep voice making my shaky one even more unstable, "one more, my love."
One more.
But see, he's been saying this for hours.
And when I say hours, I mean there's no sense of time in the Dreaming, and he's taken fuck me to oblivion way to fuckin' seriously. And yet -
"I assure you," he crooned as he clutched the back of my head when it got too heavy for me to keep up, "my sister will not touch you. I will not let her take what's mine. She will not come near you," he sucks on my skin, "not when I have you in such a servile state."
Fuck me.
And he did.
And he was.
Still is.
My head rested on his shoulder. My body jolted with each of his thrusts. I felt my eyes water all over again, and now even my mouth was crying. I dribble on his skin as I whine, "D-Dream."
"Shhh," he kisses my head, "let me relax," he holds me firm in my place, "we have an arrangement, don't we? You want me to do this, don't you?"
I whimper when his thumb rubs on my oversensitive nub, "p-please-"
"I know," he tuts, "I know," he purrs, claiming my mouth with his, "just one more. Can you not give your beloved king one more sweet orgasm? Don't you want me to relax, darling? You said you'd let me do anything I want-"
"Dream-"
He sits up straighter, "and I want to feel you take pleasure in my love making."
A tired cry leaves my mouth.
"I need you to feel how much I love you, my jewel," he licks my neck and nips on my skin, "one more time."
"B-but you've been s-saying that-- for hours," I feel tears streak my cheeks.
He nods and licks my tears, "I swear to you, my love," his fingers dig into my flesh, "one last rupture is all I will ask of you now."
"Promise?" I blurt desperately.
Dream peppers kisses on my neck, "you have my word."
And fair enough, fair enough, he did promise me relief after. The words of an Endless were not fickle and I should have trusted in him. I mean I did! I do! But my mortal body could only take so much and so, I did what I had to do.
I faked it.
I faked it and immediately he stopped.
Thank. Goodness.
At least... it was a thank goodness in that moment.
I caught my breath as I melted like putty on him, allowing my body to bathe in its exhaustion though I did not feel pleasure from the squirming show I just put on.
Dream's hold on me relaxes. His hands come to my thighs as he adjusted me on him.
"T-thank you," I mutter.
"What was that?"
I heave as I look at him, "I said t-"
"You did not finish," he cuts, one hand coming to my back to keep me in place as he pulled back to scowl at me.
My silence proved me guilty. My stutter decided my sentence.
Dream's nostril flare and his jaw hardens, "hmmm." He reaches out for my face and pushes back my sweat soaked hair, "did you think I would not realize?"
I squeak when he pulls me off him and sets me down on his side. I fidget as I feel the cushion of the bed on my swollen, dampened thighs. I reposition myself uncomfortably as he leans on his knees and sighs.
"Dream-"
"I will not forget this."
"... w-what?"
Dream turns to me, eyes darker than normal, face tense and clearly irritated, "you will learn not to resort to trickery with me, insolent girl."
Well, fuck. "My love-"
I don't get to speak as he stands and eyes me in disdain, "if you do not want me to touch you-"
"I didn't say I don't want you to touch-"
"-then I shall have my leave and keep my hands to myself."
I sigh in frustration as I watch him walk away from me. I crumble on the bed and slam my head on the sheets. I look up and see he's already by the door, his clothing already manifested on him, "Dream. Dream, please-"
Dream reaches for the knob and slams the door shut on his way out.
For the next week, the whole Dreaming would be walking on eggshells around their king and it was all my doing.
A harsh winter fell on the Dreaming. Everyone was fighting for their life in the cold and I could no longer let them suffer because of my unintended offence and his exaggerated pettiness.
I manage to get Mervyn make Dream go to the throne room.
The throne room echoes, "so, you've resorted to trickery once more, brat."
I turn over my shoulder and jolt when I see Dream already looming over me. I clutch my chest as I look up at him, "don't be ridiculous. Am I not guest who can ask for the attention of the king?"
"No," he rebuts.
The windows of the throne room begin to get battered by hail. I flinch when a large, icy stone breaks through the glass. I turn to the thing on the floor, back to the being that was the reason why there was an eternal frost, "Dream, please-"
"So, I do not please you?" his voice reverberates through my rib cage as his form is obscured and grows larger.
My heart races as I reach out and try to touch him. My hands go through his form and I whimper, "my love."
He growls.
I gasp when his icy hand takes my cheek.
"You have offended me beyond reparation."
I flinch at his touch. Cold begins to creep up on me. I bite back the quip lingering on my tongue. How dramatic of him.
I try to reach out to him again and this time, he lets me touch him. I feel something like shoulders and I pull on him, "puppy, please-"
"Do not insult me," he barks, face coming into view as he looks down on me, "I've had enough of you."
A shiver runs down my spine.
His hand dig into the roots of my hair. He pulls my locks back and tilts my head up, "so..." he inhales deeply, "how shall I get retribution? What will you to to appease me?"
My pulse quickens. I bite my lip, "anything."
He scoffs, "and have you trick me again?"
"I -" I shudder when he circles around me, "I promise I won't complain. I'll be a good girl."
"I do not believe you," he leans into my neck from behind, "insect."
Goosebumps form on my skin, "Dream-"
He places a hand on my mouth, "silence."
I squeal into his hand and do my best not to squirm at the ice cold of his palm now scouring my body. He breathes against my skin and I flinch at the cold.
"Oh," he mocks, hand coming off my mouth, "are you cold, my love?"
I suck in a sharp breath, "y-yes."
He hums and kisses my jaw. His lips are ice cold, "my poor girl."
I flinch when his hands trace upward underneath my shirt, "perhaps removing your clothes will help you," he pulls my top off, "don't you agree?"
I shiver and pant at the notion.
"Well?" he coaxes.
I find myself nodding, "y-yes."
Dream kisses my cheek repeatedly, "very good."
He turns me around and begins to strip me naked. I begin to shiver more violently when I'm left bare. I feel my nose begin to clog.
Fuck, I'm going to die.
"D-D-Dream," I shudder, "I'm fre-eezing."
He pulls me into his chest. He is an icicle. He caresses my cheeks, "shhh," he leans in and kisses me, "you're mine. Nothing else will touch you but me," he lifts me up, "isn't that right?"
"R-r-r-r-ight," I wrap my legs around him.
I let out a hiss when I am upon a cold surface. I realize then that I was sat on his throne.
I continue to shiver as he pulls away and looks down on me. He tilts his head as snow begins to powder the room, "you will not touch me," he bends down, "am I understood?"
I nod quickly as I watch him drop to his knees.
He sighs, steam wafting up from his lips, "good girl."
I hiss, nails digging into the armrest, when his suddenly hot fingers touch my shaking knees and part them, "sweet Mary- fuck-"
He snorts, steam coming out of his nostrils, "you will not say any other name but mine."
I pant heavily as he takes my legs and throw them over his shoulder. I whine and so badly want to grab at him when I feel how warm he is. I lean into him and cry out when his mouth connects with my freezing skin. My belly quakes for multiple reasons when his large hand rubs my skin. My nails scrape the wood on the armrest. I scream his name out helplessly.
He sighs in satisfaction. I hear him in my head: very good.
I screw my eyes shut and rut into him, "please let me touch you."
"Never," he rather instantaneously retorts.
It continues like this. I tremble at his ministrations while snow continues to build all over the throne room, save for the area around him.
"Fuck," I shake off snow from my shoulder. I flinch when I feel his tongue working on me. I could barely feel my fingers though my lower half was warm, "p-please, my hands-"
My cries fall deaf on his ears.
It continues like this up until my voice is hoarse and my calves are shaking at the feel of him eating me up.
"F-fu- D-Dream-"
"Mmm," he finally looks up at me, face wet with slick and saliva.
Fuck, I hate him but he was so pretty. "P-please- m-my hands," I shudder."
I could see the warmth radiating off him, "what of your hands, little bug?"
"T-they're so cold-"
I whimper when he takes my hands and places them on his cheeks, "better?"
I nod, "thank y-you."
Dream smiles softly, placing a burning kiss on the inside of my thigh, "good girl."
My belly spasms when I feel his hot breath on my core again, "tell me. Will my beautiful toy trick her master again?"
I let out a overwhelmed sound when he slowly sinks his teeth into my aching core. I arch my back and dig my fingers in his hair, pulling firmly. My toes curl as I whimper, "n-no."
He hums against me. It makes me squeal.
He takes my legs and pushes me back, hanging my legs on the armrest, "you swear it to me?"
I whimper when he pulls away from my thighs and rises to his feet to kiss me. I bring him close and relish the feel of his warmth, "yes," I sink my face into his neck and rub my cheek on his skin, "yes! I swear, I swear-"
"Mmm," he places his arms around me, "I believe you."
Dream rubs his hands down my shoulders then my thighs and pulls back.
I look up at him as snowflakes fall onto his hair and lashes. He smiles at me then rubs my cheek with his warm hand, "best find your clothes in the snow, my love. It would be unfortunate if you caught a cold."
"W-What?"
With that, he retreats and wraps his coat around himself.
I shiver and watch my breath condense in the air Dream walks off, treading easily through the snow.
When I realize what was happening, I curl into myself and feel my body shake. Was it the cold? Anger? Betrayal? Who knew.
"Come quick, pretty girl. I will prepare a cup of tea for you in the kitchen," he calls over his shoulder, licking his lips as he heads for the door.
I hiss when I attempt to step into the snow. I whimper and look up as I clutch my chest, "you're not seriously leaving me? Dream?! DREAM!"
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