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#the sandman x you
hunny-beann · 4 months
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I am literally having the worst day ever, do you think you could write some insanely fluffy Dream for me? I'm talking tooth rotting levels of fluff here.
Rest Now, Wife, Mine
Dream of the Endless x f!Reader
Note: Hi anon! Thanks a ton for the adorable request, I had a lot of fun with it and really hope it helps make your day feel a bit better <3
Synopsis: Morpheus' wife finds their bed far too lonely without him in it, and seeks out his presence to remedy this so she may finally succumb to slumber for the evening.
Thankfully, he is all too happy to oblige.
Warnings: None! Just pure and unbridled fluff :)
Word Count: 1,298
Her steps are silent and her pace slow as she approaches the familiar throne room, sensing even from outside of its walls that it is as close to empty as it is going to get for the evening.
That said, as close to empty as possible for the throne room of an Endless such as Dream was not nearly as empty as one might think, with it being a rarity that he not be found there.
She fights back a shiver as she steps across the threshold, her bare feet suddenly far colder than before, and her majority uncovered shoulders beginning to undergo horripilation at the seemingly inexplicable shift in temperature.
That said, being easy to explain was not a rule that the Dreaming followed, so this was nothing new, and certainly nothing unexpected.
Though, the sudden voice that split the once heavy silence in twain on the other hand, was.
"And what could possibly have you awake at such an hour, dear wife?"
The voice asked quietly, laced with both amusement and even a twinge of concern that had the wife in question smiling softly in spite of her best efforts to not appear excited at the mere sound of her love's voice.
Oh, but she had never been that strong, had she?
He had her wrapped around his finger just as he did the entire realm that he ruled, though he notably reserved the one with the ring for her and her alone.
She padded up toward his throne quietly, not willing to answer his question until she was close enough that her voice might not reverberate so loudly off of the palace walls.
Some words, she had decided long ago, were for her husband and her husband alone.
Upon her eager approach, the Lord of Dreams could not help but raise one of the corners of his mouth at the mere sight of her, holding his hand out at her nearness to guide her to stand before his crossed legs as he reached gently to take her other in his own as well, making a mental note of how chilled her extremities felt due to the cool night air of his throne room.
He watched as she slackened slightly at his familiar touch, her body always so happy to find him near in a way never ceased to have his heart all but melting at her feet.
What a disastrous little thing she was, truly.
He could never love another.
As her form relaxed at the feeling of his hands on hers, so loving in spite of the power that they held, she could not help but yawn softly, eyes growing teary as her ease allowed the weight of the day to truly set in.
Her dearest Dream Lord smirked up at her, his brow raised knowingly and his eyes twinkling as he watched her fight off the eternally tempting wiles of sleep.
What a sweet little thing, so helpless in her battles against her own biology that it was entirely too amusing to ignore, and always far too entertaining to neglect to bear witness to.
"You are tired, my dear."
The Lord of Dreams stated matter of factly, tugging his beloved closer using his soft grip on her hands so he could properly brush some of her hair behind her ear, a gesture which caused her eyelids to flutter closed briefly before they snapped open once more, her fight against herself not yet over in her eyes (though Dream could see clearly in the way that she swayed on her own two feet that there was already an obvious victor).
He chuckled quietly, shaking his head,
"You need to rest, sweet stardust. Let me bring you back to the bedroom."
He spoke gently, rising to guide her back to their soft and familiar bed only to halt when he heard her reply.
"No, I don't want to go back, you're just going to leave once you think I'm tired enough not to follow."
The Dream Lord faltered upon hearing this, raising a questioning brow in response before lowering himself down upon his throne once more, though this time he pulled his wife right along with him, sitting her on his lap in order to get a better look at her exhausted expression.
He frowned.
"Have you been staying awake on purpose, my love? Lying in wait for me as you promised you would not do?"
She shook her head, but he could see the way that the blood rushed into her cheeks as she tried to explain, embarrassed to admit the things that she had to in order to quell his worries of any intentional harm having been done.
"No, of course not, I just..."
The Lord of Dreams hummed and brought one hand to her back, rubbing up and down along her spine and feeling her lean against him unintentionally in response, her bones heavy and all too prepared to sink into whatever comfort they could find.
"You just what, dearest?"
He urged, causing his lover to nod blearily in response, slowly coming back to reality again.
"I just find that sometimes I cannot bear to sleep alone, that the bed feels far too wide and empty without you in it."
Dream fought back a slight smile upon hearing this, feeling more than a little bit proud to know that his wife could rely upon him enough to truly need him so (though he was notably unhappy to hear that this was causing her any amount of unnecessary strife).
"And is tonight one of those nights, beloved?"
He asked, watching as she nodded, her head lolling slightly upon her neck as her overworked muscles struggled to remain in control over her all too tired body and mind.
"Poor thing,"
Dream all but purred in response, adjusting his love upon his lap until she was leaning against him, breaths warm on his neck and body seeming to grow heavier by the second as the feeling of his familiar closeness drove her into a type of ease that was felt only at a lover's closeness.
"That will certainly have to be remedied, won't it?"
He murmured against her ear, feeling her shiver in response, nuzzling closer with a nod as he gathered his coat that had been hanging on the back of the dais behind him with just one hand, draping it over her body and pressing a soft kiss against her head as he felt her begin to drift off into a much needed and far too well deserved slumber.
"Rest now, wife, mine."
He said softly, feeling his dearest love smile gently against his skin at his familiar words and the use of his favorite (and almost sickeningly sweet) nickname for her,
"I will see to it that no one interrupts you as you do."
If she had been more awake, perhaps the woman would have rolled her eyes or even offered a sarcastic retort in response to her husband's dramatics, but instead she simply nudged herself closer, pressing a gentle kiss against the pale flesh of his neck before she drifted off for the very first time that night, feeling truly safe in the arms of her most adoring love.
And when morning arrived, and the throne room became far less uninhabited, the two of them made for quite a sight, indeed.
After all, who would have thought that the Lord of Dreams might choose to sleep simply to live life as his dear wife did, his cheek pressed gently against her head and his arms wrapped around her as slumber found them both, pulling them closer together, ever still, in the very same way that they belonged now, and always would for the remainder of eternity, and perhaps even beyond that.
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xarniae · 2 years
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☁︎ 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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paradiseinaverno · 2 years
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What about reader playing with Morpheus's hair? I just love his bed hairstyle! 💖
playing with morpheus’ hair (gn!reader)
thank you for the ask !
lowercase intended
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morpheus isn’t fond of people touching his hair. he might never admit it, but a surprising amount of effort goes into maintaining his bedroom-chic hair.
and though morpheus probably isn’t the biggest fan of intimacy with just anybody, you on the other hand, are a glimmering exception.
in fact, he’s so accustomed to your touch that he barely notices when your hand ever so slightly brushes a fleck of dust out of his hair.
you’re in the library, helping lucienne, sorting through books, considering the place went upside down after morpheus left. and it takes five minutes of inner frustration before you finally flick it out.
everything seems to stop. morpheus freezes for a moment, then silently just. walks away.
later, lucienne explains how particular he is about his hair, for some reason. you’re relatively new to knowing morpheus in comparison, so you just. accept it.
the next few weeks, you make a conscious effort not to touch his hair. if you hug him, you’ll put your arms around his neck, careful to avoid his eternal bed head.
on the other hand, morpheus is literally burning inside. fine, so his pride and joy is his mussed-up hair, but he can’t forget the feeling of how tenderly you touched him.
so the next time he sees you, and you’re lying in bed, he decides it can’t go on. in the purest way, morpheus wants to be touched. it’s been over a century of every type of deprivation in that damned burgess glass.
you’re lying down, and he nuzzles into you almost, like a cat. absentmindedly, and half asleep, you stroke his head ever so slightly. then your sense hits you, and you retract your hand as quickly as you can.
but he grabs your hand halfway, and you turn to look at his eyes that are oh-so-pleading, and your heart warms to its core.
he hesitates. “i like when you…when you do that.”
“you like when i touch your hair?”
almost childlike, almost uncharacteristically, he nods. it’s strange to see morpheus, so generally cold and firm, now so soft.
you’re almost grateful to see this side of him. he’s beautiful, always, and you take him into your arms. he rests his head across your stomach, and you run your fingers through his hair. he makes a mental note to ask you to do this more often
from then on, you rarely stop. in public, at first, you’re mindful not to touch him, or his hair much
after all, the king of dreams and nightmares has a reputation to uphold
but whenever he’s in your arms, whenever you play with his hair, he turns into putty. it doesn’t take long for lucienne to walk into the throne room one day to find the two of you in the same position
oh matthew would love to hear about this, she thinks
you almost convince him to let you braid it.
“it must be long enough!”
“absolutely not.”
you’re not sure if this king of dreams sleeps, but the few moments you have when he’s closing his eyes, you take advantage of by threading daisies between his dark locks.
morpheus, of course, is entirely awake. but he loves you, and he enjoys the personal attention. it’s not always he gets pampered, so he’ll keep his mouth shut. for now.
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stranger-nightmare · 2 years
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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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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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e1dritchjackal0pe · 3 months
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𝔗𝔬 𝔅𝔢 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡 ℑ𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔅𝔢 ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔢𝔡
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Summary: Because of a past refusal, the god who once fostered and protected your village has cursed the land and left it in constant darkness and bloodshed. But years after the island's condemnation he visits the priestess in her dreams, claiming that he is once again willing to take a sacrifice in exchange for the people's salvation.
You are left to grapple with your reality when that sacrifice is announced to be you.
Notes: 26k words, so . . . grab a snack? Also, this has not been proofread yet so sorry for any errors and misspellings. Banner is credited @saradika
Warnings: MDI - 18+ content! AFAB, Sacrifice AU, violence, horror elements, the reader is drugged physically for ritual purposes but it doesn't affect her in the Dreaming? illusions to death, an animal is harmed but does not die, a small teaspoon of stalker Dream (sorta), hints of possessive Dream but he's also soft. Oral (F!receiving), he's a switch, a bit of soft dom Morpheus I suppose, sex outside but there is no voyeurism involved, unprotected sex.
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The memories of your mother are vague at best. Like gazing up at someone while being submerged under water. But what you could remember, quite vividly at that is the wild fables and stories of gods and heroes that she would tell you, sending you off to sleep with images of great serpents slicing through the waves of the seas or the behemoth hound snapping at the tormented souls of the underworld with its many heads. And she taught you of the nymphs of the ocean and the wood, and the great gods that cloak the skies with heavy storm clouds and bind the souls of lovers together. 
But perhaps one of the most important to your isolated village, the one who was vital to the people's survival was the deity Morpheus. Dream of the Endless, the King of Dreams and Ruler of Nightmares. The heavenly benefactor that assured you all prosperity and wealth. He was benevolent and caring, and to commemorate the god, murals were created in his image. Some portrayed him as both beast and man. With the lithe physique of a human, the textured, taloned feet of a bird and great wings pridefully expanding from his back, stretching high in a reaching arch and a head that you could not discern if it was intended to mimic a bird or insect. The protrusion from his face reminded you of the proboscis of a mosquito but it was jointed and colored like ivory like a bleached spine. 
But on occasion the paintings depict the god as a striking statuesque man, clutching a group of blood red blossoms in one hand and fragments of pale sand poured through the fingers of an opposing upturned palm. And he seems to have his wings in this form also. And they are always with feathers the color of the night sky. 
Your mother had told you that he was a kind ruler. But even kindness is not without its conditions. 
The people had spoken of an offering that must be made to the Endless to appease him, an exchange for his watchful eye and shelter. A sacrifice must be given. A human one. The thought had terrified you as a child. But the villagers - even your own parents seemed to accept the requirement without any qualms. No complaints were made from the people. It was taken as a fact of life. The same as how the sun rises in the east or how fire burns when touched. No one fought when the shrine guards came in the morning. When the dawn was but a smudge of lavender in the horizon, knocking on doors and collecting any woman who was of age regardless of it they were already wives with families and duties. 
Not even your father or mother had protested when they came to take her away to the temple. And you had latched yourself onto her hips, refusing to let go even when she assured you that this was a good thing. That it was a great compliment to be even considered for the choosing. And that if she was selected as the offering - to join the Dark God that it would bring honor not just to the village but to your house as well. But you had refused to listen, shaking your head while your tears dampened the fabric that covered her body. The hierodules had to tear you from her hips, and your father had to secure you in his arms as she left with the guards to the join the other women who had been collected from their homes. 
The next passing days for you had been melancholic and distressing to say the least but the village was a kaleidoscope of colors and festivities. And despite the joy that thrummed across the air, the world seemed to be holding its breath, waiting the day for the Choosing when the head Priestess would reveal the offered woman that Endless had deemed worthy enough to be his sacrifice. 
The ceremony had been held near dusk and a heavy quiet had fallen over the collective as you all look up to the priestess, desperate to hear which womans name she would utter. The anticipation was stifling as you all awaited who would become his bride, and your fingernails had dug into your father's hand so harshly that it must have stung, but he did not flinch or jerk away once, far too enamored with the event. And when the sister had revealed the Chosen the crowd had cheered and some gasped, but you had cried. Cried with relief and joy. 
But on that day the Priestess decided to deny the dark god of his sacrifice and that decision would mark the fall and despair of your village for years to come. 
And now you stand where your mother once did. But instead of the cover of a gentle twilight, the unforgiving heat of the sun wafts over you, engulfing you in a sweltering heat and pounds down on the crown of your skull. Voices clamor from down below, the frenzied cries of desperate people, and it has the women standing at your sides shivering like startled doe's. You could not blame them in the slightest. You too wanted to quiver and sob to expel your fear, but you could not bear to show any vulnerabilities. Not to the hungry crowd, too terrified in their own right to empathize with your distress.  
The ritual is only in a few days' time and the atmosphere that looms across the village with a heavy sort of anticipation is a conflicted sort of energy. There was an obvious air of excitement, prickling at your skin and nearly leaving you breathless but there was also the underlying thrum of . . . fear. It pained you to look out to the masses and see their jostling bodies, waiting with bated breath to hear the name of the Endless' intended. To hear if he would finally accept a sacrifice again after so many years of anguish and terror. 
They had decorated the thresholds of houses, and the columns of buildings with rich tapestries and fine wreaths just as had been done in the past. The people- your people frolic about in special fabrics- deep reds and blues to herald the Endless. Gorging themselves on the five-day long feast: the meat of boar and quail and an abundance of fruits. The flow of wine and spirits did not stop. It had only progressed if the slurred shouting and rumbunctious laughter that had reached you from behind the thick walls of the commune was any indication. Celebrating their lives. Celebrating your death. 
Despite your circumstances you had been nothing but pampered since your forced participation. Fed only the finest meals and bathed in expensive oils and perfumes.  You have been chosen by an ancient; a harsh voice hissed cruelly from the depths of your mind. The voice of the old sister. The woman who had sealed your awful fate. The one who claimed that the mind walker -the dark god himself had come to her in a dream and had spoken to her she had reiterated animatedly, sharp piercing eyes nearly rolling back in her skull from her mania. Her body had quivered from her passion and the other women that had been selected and forced into a reluctant row had nearly flinched back at the intensity of it. You all clung to each other, hands gripping the other for support. Something to tether yourselves to the ground. All of the eligible women had been wrangled up, torn from the arms of their families. Even women with husbands and children were taken away, no one was spared in the wishes of finally appeasing the god. 
You had scanned the clamoring crowd in the hopes of finding someone who would be willing to help. Someone who would disagree. Perhaps a stranger would show pity or sympathy, but you found no one. They were all hanging on to the demented rambling of the old priestess. Their silence was palatable. The crazed joyous eyes of people with hope. Hope of reprieve from the decade long curse that had tainted the village. And unfortunately, one of the maidens- one of you that stood in that horrid line was the answer to their prayers. And when you found no sympathy, you looked past the commotion and the roofs of houses to the sea in the distance and imagined yourself taking to the dark waves and escaping under the tide and froth. Emerging somewhere new and wonderful. 
Of course, there would be no freedom for you. Not when her horrid eyes strayed from the desperate crowd and pinned you in your place the air had been expelled from your lungs with a harsh gravity. The realization of your fate. 
And then as if to perpetuate her point further, to drive the knife in deeper and twist, she lifted her crooked finger up in the air and pointed. Right at you. And the other girls that were clinging to your body for support and comfort had jerked from you as if you were dirty and blemished, sobbing with cries of relief while they fled in search of their mothers and fathers in the crowd. But some of them had sank to the dust and clasped their hands together as if in prayer, kneeling at your feet like you were sanctified. 
"The Endless has found his Chosen." She crooned and the people had roared in a victorious cry.  
They took you kicking and screaming, ignoring your cries of protest while they carried you off to the Sisters commune to prepare you and the townspeople looked on, watching you feverously with a horrid sort of enthusiasm. Relief you recognized. 
You had been forced into decadent silks and decorated with jewelry that at one time you would have dreamed of wearing, but they might as well as have been hot iron with the way that they felt against your skin. Restricting, disgusting. 
They paraded you around for days, making you the pinnacle of the festival while you watched them all sink into their basest desires, influenced from alcohol and the intoxication of relief. You tried not to blame them. To see past your pain and hurt and summon some forgiveness. After all, they were only afraid. The same as you had been, the same as you are now. Fearful of the Night King and his spirits. The horrible kakodaimon hoard that serve at his command and wreak havoc should their emperor be denied of his sacrifice. Some are little more than mischievous deities, entertaining themselves with otherwise harmless pranks: Stealing shoes and tying the hair of women into knots while they sleep unaware. The stuff of tales and bedtime stories. But he has other creatures. Monstrous, evil things that steal infants from their cribs and drain bodies of their lifeblood and chew bone. 
The same horrid beings that have been tormenting the village for a decade now, arriving in the night to snatch up any poor soul who had been foolish enough to be caught outside during the dark. Many have died during the years since he's unleashed his army of terrors upon the village. The dark creatures snatching them up in their gnarled claws, as lethal as a sharpened daggers and carrying them off with the swift whisper of wings. All because he was refused. 
And now finally you sit underneath the stars again, after being forced behind barricaded doors and huddling underneath the table and hoping that the creatures wouldn't break through the door and tear themselves inside with gnashing teeth to feast upon your flesh. Clinging to the hope that you would survive until daybreak when the blessed sun would rise from the horizon and banish them away. If only for a little while. 
For the first time since you were a child you may embrace the dark and breath in the warm night air, feeling it sooth your lungs like a balm. You're as full of wonder as you are paranoia. Waiting for one of the nightmares to leap out of the shadows and steal you away. But even the weight of the silver and diamonds adorning your body and the deafening laughter of the feast couldn't tear your eyes away from the black expanse that loomed above. Stretching out like a horrible, beautiful black void that threatened to eat you alive. And you nearly felt crushed with how small - insignificant it made you feel. The unforgiving stretch of the cosmos looming above seemed to force your own mortality upon you with a harsh sort of grace. And it angered you that the dark god had stripped this sight from you for so many years. He had taken so much from you all and now they all once again chant his name as though he was a savior and not the reason for their strife and agony. Celebrating his image like he was a humble god that had not punished them and their children with beasts and terrible dreams. All because he was not given a woman who had been promised to him. 
You had never felt so bare in your life, having been forced on the plush velvet cushions of a palanquin to be carried around on the shoulders of the temple guards and displayed around the village. There was no shelter from the prying eyes of the townspeople who had watched you with the same sort of desperate hunger as a pack of starved dogs, shameless and pitiful. They had been pelting you with the vibrant blossoms of violets and dark seeds, and the abundance had begun to collect atop the cushions, and you had been tempted to sweep the offerings off the side of the vehicle but as if sensing your intentions one of the priestesses had swiftly swiveled her head to glare at you from her place beneath you. You had been tempted to defy her regardless, to hold eye contact with her as you did so, but despite your petty desire you held yourself back. 
They did eventually lower you from their shoulders and back down onto the earth, and a few women had emerged from the boisterous crowd -servants perhaps - to hand you food and drink. You had not wanted to accept it, too prideful to take what they had given you and make them believe that they had managed to placate you with a meal and wine, but eventually your stomach had won and you hesitantly abandoned your dignity. It had been too long since you had last had a decent meal, having survived off of measly scraps for too long. You had gorged yourself on the figs and fish and honey cakes, chasing it with the rich wine when you had become parched and soon your head had become light with the influence of the fermented liquid, and it allowed you to ignore the cajoling throng of people and the sisters' that observed you. 
The priestesses surrounded you like a group of statues, pillars of death. Silent and watching. Guarding. They observe when the villagers approach you, eyes glinting hauntingly like they're waiting for one of the people to lash out and attack you.  You hoped someone would and finally put you out of your misery. But instead, they all crouched down low at your feet, whispering their gratitude like you had asked for this purpose and placed bundles of red flowers on the earth to surround the palanquin. Even a child had approached you, thanking you for the salvation you offered. It had nearly broken you and tears had threatened to spill down your face. It almost disgusted you to look at them. Soft, delicate blossoms that were a harsh scarlet. Red like blood. Poppies you had realized. The flower associated with the Endless. It made you nauseous to be surrounded by his symbol. And suddenly they were not so pretty anymore and there were too many. Overflowing at your feet and pilling up so high that it felt like the people were trying to build a wall around you.  
"Why must I do this?" You gasp, feeling as though you were being crushed. The sister to your right is the one who speaks but she does not turn to look at you, instead focusing on the roaring pyre that the villagers dance around under the guide of the drums and flute. "Because it is your purpose." The answer is cold and matter of fact, sparing you no sympathy. It is a sentence that you have heard uttered one too many times in the passing days, almost as though they believed you would come to accept your circumstances if you heard it enough. You just could not understand why they would be so easily swayed to accept the god who had turned his backs on them so long ago. Abandoned them and tormented them because of his own hubris. Scorned because the head priestess before had not given him her own daughter. 
He had plagued your village for too long. Ravaging men and women and children with horrid dreams and dying crop. Except for now. Ever since the choosing ceremony, when you had been selected the gardens had blossomed seemingly overnight, overgrown with a prosperous harvest and the hunt had been successful after many moons of coming up with little more than measly rabbits. 
They would always return to his dark embrace after the horrors that you have all been forced to endure. It did not matter if he demanded one maiden or a thousand, they would spare as many women that he demanded. Even if it meant finding shelter under the punishing hand that caused all of their pain. 
But it still does not explain why he had accepted a sacrifice after so many years of silence and refusal. After turning his nose up at every attempt to reconcile and give an offering he makes his presence known now. But what had changed? Why you? Surely the god that presides over dreams and walks amongst the subconscious must know that you are no longer a chaste woman. A tainted old maid is what they would whisper about you. There was no sense to any of this. 
"But why me?" And the fragile strings of jewelry draped around your neck clink against each other, but it is an annoying sound that has your nails digging into the rich tapestried cushions. It is the one to your left that speaks now. Her voice is deceptively soft, bubbling like a gentle stream. "We do not question the Endless. " She responds. And although her voice is much more welcoming than her sister's her words are just as indifferent. " You will be our salvation. Our forgiveness. You will save us. " 
Any bit of protest had died in your throat before you could get them out. You focused on the festivities instead, watching the people chant and sing old songs. And dancers leapt around the fire, dressed in furs and leather and colorful fabrics to mimic figures from folklore and the very monsters that had massacred your village for years. Wearing masks fashioned from old hides and animal pelts, brandishing the horns taken from cattle and deer. They playfully leapt at the crowd that encircled the fire as though they were going to swipe. And some had constructed costumes to imitate the dark plumage of the raven, one of his coveted animals. 
This was twisted. A mockery of suffering and pain. Pissing on the memory of the people who had fallen victim to the dream god and his nightmares. 
How could they all forget so easily? 
You could feel the sting of anger simmering within your chest, prickling at your fingertips. It made it difficult to breath around the weight of it all. You continue to watch them all despite the rage and sorrow that it induces. The horrible way they galivant around and clap and cheer. It's disgusting and awful. Even the children. The poor children participate, lunging at the false monsters with wooden swords and some are dressed as the dark creatures themselves.  
To get some sort of reprieve you looked to the night sky, staring up at the full moon as though its goddess would hear your silent plea and save you from your fate. Whisking you from this starving mob and your doomed fate to her hidden island to frolic with the nymphs free from your crude duty.  But the glowing deity did not appear, and you were left to stare at the lonely dark void of the night while the stars winked and fluttered as though their light might dim and die. It was foolish to believe that the goddess of virtue would appear for a woman like you. 
But then you could feel it. A magnetic pull that tilted your head from its upturned position, and your eyes lower onto something gleaming with a pale light. Two shimmering pieces, shinning much like the moon hanging above.  It is a pair of eyes you come to quickly discern. Reflecting the bright glow of the pyre in a way that is decidedly not human. Those are the eyes of a beast: An owls may do that, or a wolf's or a cat. Not a human. But the face that they belong to is very much a man's. 
It is difficult to make out the features of his face past the way that the heat of the open flames warp the surrounding atmosphere and the smoke twists and coils into the open air like deadly serpents. But you can comprehend the sharp jut of high cheek bones and pale milky skin almost as though he was cut from a fine marble. His expression is not a joyous one or celebratory like the other villagers, instead it is stoic and serious. The intensity of his glare has you pinned in place. It is you; you realize. He's staring at you. 
The world suddenly feels weightless, like you're suspended in a vacuum. You had heard a story from an old hunter once. One who had miraculously survived a lightning strike and he had been shunned by many of the others for his scars. After all he must have done something to warrant the strike. He must have scorned the Lord of the Sky himself. But you had spoken to him regardless and he had told you that he had felt it before it had hit him, even though it was only for but a second. His hair had stood on end and his skin had tingled strangely before his body was flooded with a numbing white-hot heat. And you could feel that sensation prickling over you now, like the whisper of a thousand fingertips brushing you all over. It made you shiver, and you adjusted yourself in your seat in an attempt to banish the feeling, but it never faded. If anything, the steady pulses persisted and seemed to thrum with even more intensity nearly making you gasp aloud. You wanted to look away from the strange man, but you could not seem to will yourself to turn your gaze from him, and some strange part of you did not want to. He was gorgeous in a haunting sort of way, but you could not figure out why. There was an unearthly quality to his countenance, like he was he was not a man but wearing the face of one. 
It was then you noticed the color of his robes. Black. But that was not right. No one else was allowed to sport the Endless' color, no one else apart from the head priestess was allowed to wear his color, as a way to display her connection and loyalty. It was considered an extreme offence for any other person to bear a cloth in his shade. A punishable offence that would often result in public ridicule and the removal of the criminal's dominant hand. Some have even claimed that the accused may be haunted from night terrors for the crime until the passing of their natural human life. So who would be bold enough to flaunt around in public in such dark robes? 
He must be a foolish man. Or at least an arrogant one. And as though he could hear your thoughts the corner of his mouth quirks in just the faintest hint of a smile. So delicate that it could be mistaken for a trick of the light. But you could see it in his otherworldly eyes too. It looked as though that it did not suit him, but he also wore the expression beautifully. It was an odd juxtaposition, and you did not know what to make of it. He looks like no one you had never seen before but is also painfully familiar, like an old memory. 
Oddly enough no one else seems to notice his presence at all. A phenomenon that could be blamed on the alcohol and high spirits but what couldn't be wrote away by reason was the way that a drunk seemed to stumble through the strange man, causing him to vanish like a plume of smoke and the pale shimmer of his eyes was the last to fade, piercing some buried part of you before disappearing entirely and with it something clicks into place. 
The sensation that had spilled over you leaves with him, releasing you from its hold and allowing you take a deep breath that you had not known you needed. That awful wonderful stare. . . Could that have truly been the nightmare masquerading as a man? They have been known to do such a thing before. Using the guises of people and loved ones to lure vulnerable victims out for slaughter. Then another thought trickles down to the forefront and it has a cold shiver skipping down the notches of your spine. What if it had been the nightmare king himself? Come to see you, his intended bride? 
Surely you were hallucinating. It has never been mentioned before that the deity has ever made appearances before the ritual. None of the other past offerings have spoken of it. If it has happened, then none have ever cared to mention it. 
It had a troubled sinking feeling plummeting in your gut and it stayed with you throughout the night until the priestesses had collected you from your place and ushered you back to your temporary quarters where the servants prepared you for sleep. Insisting that you bathe, pouring luxuries oils into the steaming water and combing your hair before bed. They fret about like ghost. Silent and always moving so they are often little more than glimpses in your peripheral vision. They hardly speak. Only enough to offer commands that are loosely guised as suggestions or to whisper softly amongst themselves. 
They do not like you; you could easily tell. If the unabashed away that they gossip quietly while in your presence is any indication. But one of the women in particular does nothing to hide her distaste. Watching you with scorn in her eyes and a scowl on her lips. Neither of you had made any efforts to verbally communicate your hatred for the other, instead opting to passive aggressively telegraph the fact with petty gestures. Such as when she had decided to harshly pick through your hair while preparing you for the first feast. Clawing at your scalp with the teeth of the comb harshly enough to sting and throb for the entire night. The apology that she had given you was pathetically fake, contempt framed around a smile and feigned concern. She did not do it again when you had accidentally spilt hot tea across her hip when she was selecting your jewelry. 
But even now you could feel the heat of her glare against the crown of your skull and the grip that she had on your hair was harsher than necessary, but you simply did not have the energy to reprimand the action. Not after being paraded around the feast all night like a prized brood mare, sluggish under the weight of silks and pearls that decorated you. 
You feel her leaning over your shoulder before she speaks, the heat of her body irritates your skin and you find yourself tensing and trying to lean from her presence, but she is gripping your hair in a tight grip that keeps you from shifting. "You do not deserve to be touched by a god." She hisses, venom tainting her words. 
"Clearly you do not either," you snap just as harshly, gripping the sides of the basin so that you do not twist out of her hold and lash out. The other maids do not so much as glance over at the altercation, simply going on about their duties as though the both of you do not exist. "Or else you would be the one bathing in oils and dining on fruits and wine. " The hold on the back of your scalp goes slack somewhat, allowing you enough leeway to peer over your shoulder and meet the heated gray of her eyes. "How does it feel to know that your god has no desire for you?" 
She does not respond even though you can tell that she is actively biting her tongue to hold down her barbed words. It irritated you. The way they all acted as though they truly loved him. It was not affection they felt, but fear. You loathed the lying and the pretending all in the sake of appeasing the horrid god, and yet you could not find the courage to voice your opinions. It was a fruitless endeavor you knew to try and speak to these people. As tortured and hopeless as they were. And as much as you wanted to ridicule them their actions were not unfounded. You had seen firsthand what the Endless was capable of when he was denied of promises. You had watched you own mother be dragged away by venomous claws and terrible simpering fangs. There was no room for argument. At least not a sensical one. 
And so, you had remined silent for the remainder of your bath and until the servants had retired for the night, settling underneath the soft linens, but you were unable to relax. Not when you could still feel that man's eyes searing into your skin. Not from the fear of falling danger to the night terrors and horrible dreams, even though you have been quite fortunate, having not experience a single nightmare in quite some time. But that dark figures presence felt like a bad omen. An awful warning for the things to come. What if he sends his demons to come and haunt you and drag you away in the dark? What if he means to punish you? You wrack your brain to try and remember if you could have ever possibly scorned the dark god but come up empty. Granted you have never particularly harbored pleasant feelings towards the deity but not a single soul in the village has since the day that he chose to curse it, tainting it with beasts and painful dreams. Sometimes tormenting the people with dreams so intense and horrid that some have passed away in their sleep, suffering from weak hearts or fragile lungs. Other have been driven mad from the vividness and the persistence of the nightmares to the point that they have lost all sense of self and reality, some noy just taking their own lives but even the lives of others in the midst their distress and agony.
He was a dreadful god whose love was built with conditions and lies. Boasting the promise of prosperity and protection but the only thing you need protection from is him. 
An airy coo breaks you from your troubling thoughts, drawing your attention to the corner of the room where a familiar black shape trots out of the shadows, almost as though he had materialized from them. 
"What are you doing here you silly thing?" You could not hold in the short disbelieving laugh that escapes you in a huff, affection growing within your chest. You are not even sure how he could have possibly gotten inside the Sisters' commune and found your quarters, especially considering that the trek from your cottage to the village was a decent walk. He must have found an open window or slipped inside when no one was looking. You would not put the feat past him, he always seemed to be skulking about. 
You prop yourself up on your elbow to welcome the cat as he leaps onto your mattress, leaning into your hand with the tilt of his head. And you are thankful for the familiarity and the calm that washes over you at the feel of his long fur against your palm. It is a great comfort to have your companion back with again after being away from home for so long. But when your affection became too much, he slipped out from underneath your hold and retreated to the foot of your bed with a petulant flick of his tail, deciding to watch you with the piercing blue of his eyes instead. 
"Oh, my dearest apologies, " you jest, pulling your blanket up higher around your shoulder and try not to take it personally as he moves from you. "I did not mean to offend you." 
He blinks slowly, a very simple gesture but it always felt like it was done with an air of judgement. But then again, the animal always seemed to carry himself an imperious sort of way, even though he is but a cat, he manages to be rather expressive when he wants to be. 
"Have you been taking care of yourself?" You ask as though you would get an answer. You hate the thought of him being out so late with the possibility of those dreadful creatures roaming the ground and skies, ready to snatch and gouge with deadly claws. You know that he could fend for himself. He is a feral cat at best, coming and going as he pleases. Often vanishing for concerning periods of time before reappearing at your doorstep as though he had never left at all. But not even the beasts - the regular forest dwelling kind or the godly ones are the only threats that roam the dark. People could be just as awful. You honestly do not how he has managed to survive as long as he has with all the dangers lurking about. It was the same thing that you had wondered about on the first day that you saw him wandering around the tall grass that surrounded your home while you were out tending to your stubborn garden. But the second thought and the most startling was the realization that you were even looking at a cat at all. There had not been a single feline spotted on the village since the morning after the failed ritual all those years ago. All of the cats had but vanished from the island without a trace. Gone as though they had not been here at all, like they had all piled onto a boat and paddled to the mainland or a giant hand had descended from the sky and plucked them from their homes and alleyways. But now there was one there, slinking through the tall grass, a whisp of black against the dead golden reeds. 
It had you pausing from your task of searching for an unblemished vegetable that had not been tainted by worm bites or disease (which was proving to be a pointless endeavor) to watch the cat on its little journey. But despite your awe you had noticed the lethargy that seemed to slow its movements considerably. The usual feline grace that the animals typically carry themselves with was replaced by sluggish and jerky movements. The cat was all but stumbling between the tall stalks of grass. And in your worried study of the animal, you noticed a series of angry red slivers peeking through the thickness of his fur along its side. Four angry red wounds that would have been difficult for a human to endure, but for a cat you could not imagine the tole it was taking on its body to remain conscious. Especially through the pain no doubt. 
It had been entirely upon reflex to jerk up from your place on the ground, concern overshadowing your tact and making you forget that it may be a feral and undomesticated creature. And your worry did not prove to be unfounded when the cats head swung over in your direction, freezing in its walk to assess you. The both of you held a long exchange of stares and you had wondered if you should try to approach it, but then it had bolted. Lurching forward on wobbly feet and your heart had jumped in your throat, entirely frightened that he would flee to the cover of the forest and succumb to his wounds. But the cat had only made it a few paces before it was crumbling to the dirt and collapses on its side. 
You had barged through the gate of your garden leaving it to creak on its hinges while you approached the cat's body, hoping that he had not given into the trauma of the lacerations. But a glance over with your eyes confirmed that it was thankfully still breathing. You had whispered your apologies when you had noticed that he was watching you as well with a tired glassy stare, scooping him up as gently as you could and carrying him into your house to provide as much care as you could. 
The cat's body was already making efforts to build scabbing, the thick red having coagulated along the edges of its wounds. But the blood was still flowing too much for your liking, staining the linens that you had folded near the hearth for the animal to rest on. You were going to have to sew. Unfortunately, due to the infertility of the soil and the bad luck with yielding a healthy garden you had little herbs or flowers for medicine. And truthfully you did not know much of cats and which plants and medicines that should be avoided or would help him recover from his ailments, but with no one to confide in you did your best. Making sure to cleanse the slashes with fresh water before you began to stitch. Having no choice but to settle for the needle and thread that you used to make repairs on your clothing. 
"I'm afraid you aren't going to like me much after this, but I don't think we have much of a choice. " You had said, as you knelt down on the floor of your kitchen, settling in front of the animal with your thread in one hand and the needle in the other. It had peered at you from the corners of its eyes, too weak to move its head, but you had seen something flashed in its weary gaze that seemed a lot like irritation. 
You had tried to be as nimble and delicate as possible, doing to your best to focus past your anxiety to steady the mild quiver of your fingers, especially when they had become slick with blood. You tried to softly sooth the cat as gently as you could muster whenever he would jerk from pain. And thankfully you were finished before you realized, and you wrapped a strip of clean cloth around his middle to keep it clean from dirt and possible infection. 
He had laid there for several days, only moving when you had to change his dressings. And in the beginning, he had hardly eaten or drank, and you had feared for the worst. That despite your best-efforts illness had gotten ahold of him and stripped him of his appetite. But on the second day of you trying to persuade him to at least drink it seemed he had grown tired of you tapping your fingertips along the edge of the bowl or the way that you would defeatedly try to spoon-feed him water from the divot of a spoon and had lapped at the water from the edge of his linens before looking up you with a pointed glare. It took even longer to get him to eat, sharing with him pieces of rabbit that you had managed to trap. 
And since his presence in your home the beasts outside had been more active than usual, as though they could smell the blood of his wounds and had taken to clawing at your door. And on some nights, you could hear the muffled thump of footsteps skulking along your roof. They had never been so eager before. So persistent. Typically, the thing that mimics was the only one that stayed so close to your home, often screaming throughout the night like an animal. It even cried like a distressed woman or an anguished child. Sometimes it's true voice slips through the glamour.  The sound of thousands speaking in unison, of men, women and children. Stolen souls forced to speak through the maw that devoured them whole.
As terrible as it sounds a part of you has grown used to its presence. It had become routine almost, hearing the awful imitations pouring from its mouth from behind your front door. And you have spent many a night underneath the latch that you had made in the floor of your house, sleeping in burrow dug underneath the wooden planks with a dagger clutched to your chest. But when you had the cat in your home the activity seemed to increase, and you had spent every night spent underneath your floor with the cat delicately placed in the corner on his own bundle of blankets where he would lay without moving, too weak to shift or turn.
And they had returned the next night too with the number greater than the last, stalking around the perimeter of your house. Hissing and chortling in the night like a pack of demonic rabid wolves. It had been most cruel when a familiar voice had spoken from the other side of the front door, too distorted and inhuman to truly be your loved one, but similar enough to taunt you. A mockery of your father's voice begging you to let him inside. And even within your room underneath the floorboards you could still hear it. It talked for hours and spoke as both your mother and father until tears were prickling at your lash line and threatened to fall, and you had done what you could to distract yourself. Staring at the floor above you, finding shapes and faces in the patterns and shifting shades of the wood. 
It was the first time that the cat had even attempted to seek out any sort of contact. Weakly perking up from his corner and settling on the length of your legs from above your blanket and he had stared up at the floorboards above you with a startling air of intent. The voices crooned out and the rasp of talons scratched along the walls of your house. Then mercifully the voices had stopped. Seemingly all at once a peaceful hush had fallen over the atmosphere and you finally felt as though you could breathe again. The monsters had not returned that night. Or on any other night. It was as though they had vanished entirely which you knew could not be true because you could still find evidence of their existence in the forest while you hunted or washed your linens in the nearby stream. 
His health had steadily risen over the next few days. The wounds on his side had healed up nicely and he had quickly grown more restless. And he had taken to occupying himself by investigating you home and snooping around the rooms until one day he had slipped out from the front door when you were not paying attention and vanished into the tall grass. You did not heal him with the intent to keep him. A part of you assuming that he may have had a family eagerly awaiting his arrival somewhere on the island, but you could not lie to yourself that it had been nice to have company even if it was just a cat. 
You had not seen him for several weeks after that and a part of you had feared that he may have fallen to one of the beasts in the wood. And the more optimistic side of you had hoped and imagined that he had found his family. Life had returned to its monotony without him at your side and you were once again alone while attending your chores. But there had been some promise, such as the abrupt but not unwelcomed revival of your garden, which had now begun to sprout bits of life again. You had been shocked when you had seen a green hue returning to the withered remains of the mint and thyme and beginnings of a humble pods growing along your fig tree, promising the growth of fruit. And then one day he surprised you with his return, trotting from the golden meadow while you were beating a rug of the dust and grime that it had been collecting and you had smiled and greeted him like an old friend. And he would begin accompanying you as you went about your chores, always sticking by you closely and observing, even if you ventured all the way around the other side of the island to hunt for oysters and scallops, though the harvest you returned with was always slim. 
And you tried your best to name the creature, but he would not accept any of them. Not Akakikos or Thales or Arye. They were all promptly ignored when you had even tried to address him as such, and you were met with looks that could only be described as unimpressed. Of course, you could not find it in yourself to blame him. You did agree that none of them seemed to suit him all that much. But you could not call him nothing and so you had aptly christened him as 'Cat' which had been even less enthusiastically received as the others. But he would follow you everywhere despite the displeased looks that he would give you every time you addressed him as so, accompanying you when you washed your laundry in the nearby stream, and when you visit your parents' empty graves (you had never found their bodies) to tell them of your day. But he had especially surprised you whenever he would trot alongside you on your strolls down the shoreline of the ocean. It had shocked you to say the least, when Cat had wadded in the gentle waves after you, unaffected by the way that the water lapped at his paws.
A strange cat indeed. 
It struck you suddenly, the realization that you would never see your home again. As empty and cold as it could be. Forced to live on the outskirts as a pariah, assuming that you would fall to your death underneath the claws of a nightmare. Many had perished living so close to the wood, and they surely had no intention of you surviving the forest on your lonesome.  But you did and you made your vacant house your own, even with the bad blood-stained memories haunting the walls. You accepted your life alone rather early on and have even learned to love it in all of its solitude and freedoms. But they have once again bent you to their wills, selling you off like a lamb for slaughter to appease a selfish god. 
You cannot fight of the stinging lump that has risen and lodged itself in your throat. Not this time. And it burns and pushed up tears that spill down your cheeks and stain the bedding. You could not stop yourself from mourning everything. The loss of your life, the waning humanity of the townspeople, the bloody deaths of your loved ones. You tried to clamp your teeth shut to conceal your sobbing, worried that the guards posted outside of the door may hear you. And even more crippling was the sudden painful awareness that tomorrow was the night of the ritual. You had been ignoring the date, too distressed to acknowledge it. But it was coming. It was coming at there is nothing that you can do to stop it. 
There is the brush of something soft against your face, and it is not until your opening your eyes that you realize that you had even squeezed them shut. You look past the blur of your tears to see register two vivid blue irises watching you. 
Your heart ached at the sight. Torn between a flicker of affection and your unignorable grief. But you smiled regardless of your tears and stroked his chin with your fingertips. It always surprises you when he chooses to crouch down against your chest, snuggling into your body. He was not always one to seek out affection, often preferring to lie somewhere near by while watching you finish up your routine chores and tasks. His favorite spot was the window seal of your kitchen where he would perch and observe you while you would knead dough or slice the vegetables for stews. But whenever your sleep was fitful, and you would wake with a layer of cold sweat dampening your clammy skin and the anguished cries of your parents still echoing in your ears he would scurry into your bedroom if he was not already there and curl up with you as he is now until you were able to fall sleep once again. 
It troubled you to think of how he would fair for himself in your absence. You had been taking care of him for many moons now and you could only hope that in your effort to keep him from starvation that he had not grown to become too dependent of you. You could not bear the thought, that in your attempt to help and offer companionship that you had unwittingly ushered him closer to death. Would he go back to being alone after the Priestesses had sent your soul off to the nightmare god and all, but your lifeless body remained? 
Would he once again wonder aimlessly with no one to care for him? 
You could only hope that he would find someone else. 
"I'm sorry." You whispered into his soft fur and clutched him closer to you and you remained that way until your grip of time had slipped and the only thing that told you that it was still the same night was the darkness that encompassed the room, most of the candles having long since burnt out of their wicks apart from one that was little more than a pinprick of light. Even with the pull of sleep turning your limps into heavy, useless extensions and the weariness burning at your drooping eyes you could not allow yourself to fall unconscious. You were desperate to keep as much time between yourself at the ritual as possible, even though it was a fool's errand of course, as the moon was still drifting along its path in the sky and the sun was still on its way to rise over the horizon. Tomorrow would come regardless of your distress and fate. Time was cruel and it stopped for no one. But still you could not let yourself sleep even with Cat embraced in your arms, and his body thrummed with a rare bout of purring. . . It was loud. Oddly so and you opened your eyes that you were not aware that you had even shut. And when you looked down, Cat was absent from his place against your chest even though he had just been there a second ago. 
Worry broke through the exhaustion that sapped your bones and you were up in an instant, sitting up in the bed with the linens pooling around your waist while your gaze roves around the room and it does not pause until it finds a familiar shape in the darkness, watching you from a shaded corner. His eyes reflect the light from the dimming candle, and they bore into you with that pale shimmer. An unsettling chill trickles down your neck and raises the hair at your nape. The gleam of them disturbs some part of you, but you cannot place why. It is a look you recognize but it feels wrong and alien. 
Its eyes. There is something wrong with its eyes. 
"What are you doing over there?" You ask, and your voice is little more than a whisper, low from sleep and unease. But he does not so much as blink, continuing to stare steadily and the candlelight wobbles on its wick and the cats shadow flickers. It is a strange shadow, much too big for a creature so small.  
Then without any warning he shoots up from his place, trotting across the expanse of the floor and slipping from the door that had been left ajar.
Had it always been open? No
You hardly question it before you are scrambling from the bed to take after him, harshly whispering for him to come back as you pick up what little bit remains of the candle to light your way before hesitantly peek your head between the open gap of the threshold and door, scanning the hallway. But there is not a single guard in sight. The hierodules that had been stationed outside of your quarters were absent. Another peculiarity that is brushed aside when you catch the tip of Cat's tail vanishing amongst the heavy shadows that blot out the hallway and you chase after him regardless, shielding the tiny flame with your hand lest it blow out from the hasty speed of your walking. 
You are being watched you can tell, and your mind distantly supplies that it must be the murals observing you. The painted eyes of the old priestesses and spirits that adorn the walls in robes and vines made from strokes of scarlet and hunter and cerulean. But you could not let yourself look to their judgmental and buoyant faces. 
"Come here!" You hiss lowly through gritted teeth and cast a wary glance across your shoulder to briefly study the black void behind you, hoping that there is nothing lurking within it. 
And you walk for what felt like forever, chasing after the cats wavering tail that turns around twisting halls that do not seem to end, never catching up no matter how quickly you shift your pace. And it is not until you come across another bend in the corridor that the suffocating walls finally seem to open up into a massive room of dust and stones, and the light from the candle casts a glow across the space that was much too abundant considering the modest size of the flame. But he is nowhere to be seen, almost as though he has vanished from thin air. 
The air is damp here, clinging to your skin like the spray of the ocean's waves but much less pleasant. It is much more akin to the sweat that covers you when under the influence of a sickness, you decide. And the aged earthy aroma that permeates the air is even more troubling. Musty and cloying like rancid grapes. It has your nose wrinkling, and you suppress the urge to gag while you investigate the room. It takes a moment for you to make sense of what you are seeing, making out the details of the great room from underneath the oily yellow glow of the candlelight. 
There are large rectangular divots that had been crudely chiseled or dug into the stone near the base of the floor and the many burrows line above each other and descend up along the wall and towards the high tenebrous ceiling. But nestled delicately within each one is some sort of lump, gently wrapped in a rich red clothe. 
That nasty sense of unease washed over you again, prickling at your skin and your heart skips a beat at the sudden burst of fear. But there is curiosity too. It emerges from the recesses of your mind and seems to take a hold of your body, nudging you towards one of the burrows, and with each step you forget why you are even here. The search for your wayward cat completely discarded. Your focus is completely arrested one the form hidden underneath the vibrant silks, and that apprehensive part of you dislike how large the hidden shape seems. 
You mouth has gone dry and your tongue sticks uselessly to the roof of your mouth and a part of you wonders if you would be able scream should you need to. You feel helplessly trapped within your body, like a reluctant passenger, once again forced to be paraded around in a vessel that you did not want to sit upon. And all you could do was watch and feel as your shaky had rose over the red silhouette. You felt the silk underneath your fingertips, too soft and too smooth. Like water. Like blood.  And your mind ceaselessly chants no, no, no even as your body refuses to yield to its commands and your fingers pinch the cloth in a hold and pull it back from the shape. And the blood in your veins seems to freeze despite the way that it races, and the pit of your stomach drops like a stone. 
You want to look away, but your head is locked in place and every muscle has coiled inside of your body tightly. You are paralyzed and pinned where you stand, forced to stare down at the gaunt remains. The sunken eyes and withered, leathered skin pulled taught around its bones like the skeleton is trying to break free from its own body. And brittle hairs still collect around the skull, that once probably shimmered yellow like the rays of the sun but was no lackluster and dry, frayed in its braids. Pinned in place underneath the wring of a ceremonial crown. Vine leaves and olive branches that is embellished with the bright blossoms of poppies. The crown you would be forced to wear tomorrow to symbolize your union with the Endless.  
A shaky exhale rattles out, a dry rasping sound that you would have easily blamed on yourself and the fear squeezing your body in a harsh grip if not for the way that you see the mummified bride's chest quiver unsteadily. She is still alive with her body forced into some sort of permanent sleep. You cannot help but wonder how long she has been held captive here. A hostage in this awful, animated state. And all of these other shapes swaddled in red silks are other sacrifices. And they too are all still awake you realize once you hear the dry whispers of their breath echo across the chamber. 
You want to scream. You can feel it rising and clawing at your throat, but it never escapes, balling up harshly in your chest and just sitting there. But whatever spell had been casted over you finally slips and you stumble back from the burrow and the mummified bride, and your knees shake and give, and you fall onto the chilled floor, dropping the tiny candlestick on your decent. Your knees scrape the rough granite, erupting with streaks of red but you can't be bothered to care, too focused on crawling away from the looming walls, towards the center of the room while your eyes search from the entrance, but it is nowhere to be found. You spin on your knees ignoring the sting, expecting to find the threshold, but all you see are the cold painted walls, adorned with stars and poppy fields and strange beasts with wings and horns and some have the faces of men and the bodies of beasts. But even worse are the open tombs carved into the walls, and they suddenly seem like gapping, hungry mouths and the red silks that adorn the bodies seem more like lashing tongues. 
The candle flickers unsteadily, melted wax pouring around the weak flame, threatening to drown it and douse you in darkness. You make to crawl towards it before it before it can be snuffed out, but your stopped short by a pair of gleaming eyes watching you. The dark fur tells you who it is but your gut lurches at the sight of the cat. And some buried instinct tells you that something is not right. 
The eyes you realize, are tinged with a faint scarlet around the edges, staining the pale silver glow. And it was wrong. That was not the right color. This was not your cat. How did you not notice before?
It was an imposter. The face too narrow, its shadow too big. Too sharp. 
Your heart flutters like a startled bird and your breath seizes in your lungs when the red silks bound around the brides starts to drip and flow down from the stones like liquid. Blood. Their garb has shifted into blood and is pouring and merging into a massive pool around the edge of the wall and it steadily grows. 
The brides labored breathing whistles across the air, raising in volume until it hurts, harshly grating in your ears in a shrill pitch. And the sound mutates into a chorus of screams that you swear you can feel dragging over your skin like claws. You cover your ears with your hands to muffle the impact of the tortured shrieking, but it offers you no solace from the pain. And all the while the cat - the thing - stares at you from its place on the bloody floor, stained by the very red that is closing in on you from all corners, but you cannot find it in yourself to look past the agony to find strength and collect yourself from the cold granite. 
The red pours around the remaining bit of the candle and the small flame at the end of the wick hisses and sputters at the liquids touch. The light emitting from it dims considerably, threatening to enclose the catacomb in a void. And the cats shadow seems to expand underneath the waning fire, stretching in a jagged way that looks like arms trying to tear free from cloth or skin.
And the cat - a mere extension of the true monster - steps forward while its eyes burn brighter. And the blood is upon you, threatening to touch you. Nausea churns in your stomach and all of the muscles in your body draw taught. You are forced to watch as the creature grows closer, and all you can do is try your best to prepare to fight it, as pathetic as your odds no doubt are. And the brides screaming warbles and shifts into a painful mocking laughter as though they could sense your thoughts. And it makes you feel like an animal caught in a cage. A bird pinned between jagged teeth and the jaws are closing in. The walls and shadows move in closer and their joyous howling and giggling rises in a crescendo, celebrating your anticipated death. You brace as best as you can, balling your hands into fists so tightly that your nails break the skin, watching as the monstrous shadow builds up and prepares to lash out with obsidian talons. 
But the killing blow never comes. Instead, a pair of steady arms wrap around your body, encasing you against the comfort of a chest. And a rush of scents washed over you with its presence, and you struggle to place what it reminds you of. The musk of the soil after fresh rain, the salt of the sea, a calm breeze on a summer night; light and floral and earthy, but those descriptions also do no service to the fragrance that engulfs you. And with it something magnetic dances across your skin and it steals your breath away and your body threatens to melt against theirs. 
Your mind can hardly catch up with what you are seeing. The bloody floor of the burial chamber dematerializes from underneath you, but you do not fall but your body tenses in preparation regardless. The walls shake with a tremendous groan, splitting under the seize and giving under spills of sand and the murals bleed with the fractures. And the air is electric with something heavy and alive and angry, and it courses across your skin and siphons the air from your lungs from the gravity of it. Even the beast made from shadows lurches back as if it was struck and hisses underneath the heat of the rage permeating the atmosphere, clawing against the wall that was rapidly disintegrating and losing tangibility. And the beast screams along with the brides as they vanish from existence. One final baleful cry that rattles your bones and shudders over you before it drowns out completely and with it the catacomb all but vanishes and instead of the blood-soaked stones you are looking down at the expanse of the night sky with stars spread out underneath your feet. 
You brain fails to register that you appear to be hovering over a cluster of distant galaxies and you are left to stare down dumbly at the dark mass of the sky, taking in the stretch of the rich splashes of blues and stellar remnants and stardust gathered like clusters of diamonds and the scale of it nearly makes you forget about the press of someone's body along your back. Their arms around your waist in a tight hold, but there is also a sort of reluctance in their grip made known by the rigidity from the muscles of their arms and the narrow gap left between your bodies. But even between the space you can feel the low heat of them radiating against you. A part of you wanted to look over your shoulder, to discover the face of your savior but some pull in your gut warned you not. That you would not like what you would see. And so, you keep still underneath their embrace, staring off into the quiet breadth of the cosmos where comets drop across the darkness like crystalline tears. Seconds pass without either of you moving, as still as statues. As though if either of you so much as breathed the delicate emanation that cocooned the both of you would shatter. But despite your hesitation there was a prickle of curiosity tugging at you, and you could not deny the pull and you made to slowly turn your head in an attempt to sneak a glance over your shoulder. 
You barely manage to twitch a muscle of movement before they seem to shed their initial diffidence and nestle their face near the nape of your neck, and you can feel the tip of their nose brush against your ear like they mean to hide their identity from you. Their chest expands against the flat of your back, and it takes a moment for your overstimulated brain to realize that they are drawing in a breath, taking your scent into their lungs and holding it there like its oxygen. For some reason it sends of thrum of heat over your body, and combined with the steady, pulsating hum of otherworldly power that courses through the air, it makes you feel as though you may collapse. That you might come apart and burst into flames. There is no chill of fear and disgust does not rise in your stomach like nausea instead their presence feels welcomed. And despite the foreign sensation of their touch, there is also a sense of familiarity to it. Like finally falling into the arms of an old lover. 
They move their head from your by just a few scant inches, and a strange part of you mourns the loss. You wished that the hover of their lips would land on your skin, but they do not. The circle of their arms seems to press you in closer, like they cannot bear even the possibility of you parting.
For a moment the cosmos seems to halt, the intersperse collection of individual galaxies and stars pausing in their rotations and the night holds its breath and so do you. Then a sound purrs out, a heavy baritone that pours across the silence of the universe and fills you with honey and warmth. A deep, smoky cadence that you can feel curling inside the cavern of your chest and running deep across your bones and the nerves and sinew of your entire being. 
"This dream is over." 
You wake with a start. Sucking air into your lungs with a strained gasp while your hands reach around the bedding in a mindless scramble, struggling to orient yourself, but eventually you are able to at least prop your body up on shaky arms. Your eyes rove across your surroundings, no longer taking in the breathless view of stardust and nebulas but the dull clay walls of your vacant quarters and apart from yourself the bed is empty. A quick press of your hand against the stuffed mattress confirms that Cat - you're Cat had been there at some point in the night, the heat still trapped within the fabric from where he sat next to you. And you had shakily removed from yourself from the bed and searched the room for him. You had even approached the door, pressing your head against the wood and contemplated opening it but you could hear one of the guards shuffling behind it, trying to find some reprieve for their aching feet. And so, you returned to the bed with that dark voice still echoing in your ears. You could not sleep. Not even if you wanted. Not with that shadowed creature lurking and that familiar stranger invading your mind. The Nightmare Ruler, your brain supplied without forgiveness, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine. 
And you lay there for hours, now awaiting the sunrise despite the threat that it posed, clinging to your own body with shaking arms as you stare into the darkness, waiting to find something looking back. But soon the maids are pouring into your room and scattering around the foot of your bed, and they must have noticed the panic on your face as a hint of curiosity bleeds through their blase expressions, apart from that single one who always seems to be plotting your demise. 
"Is something the matter? You look troubled." And even in your tired haze you know that it is the voice of the one who openly dislikes you. The one with the sable hair and venomous words. Euthymia, you had learned her name to be. She makes no effort to hide the delight in her tone and in turn you do not even try to school the scowl that takes over your features, pinning her with an open glower, but it does nothing to extinguish the joyful gleam in her eyes. The other servants are ushering you out of bed, already cooing and gushing over the prospect of preparing you for the day ahead and you suddenly feel as though you have been tossed into a lake of ice. The five-day long celebration is coming to a close. The ritual is tonight. 
They ignore your distress, urging you to shed your slip and climb into the bath full of steaming water and oils to prepare you for the ritual. And they had patted you dry when you had gotten out of the tub so that they could dap at your skin with lotions and perfumes. Running marjoram in your hair and something faintly sweet but heady and spicy beneath your jaw. Even spreading fragrances across your inner thighs and palm oil around your breasts. It had an embarrassed heat prickling across your face, and you nearly scoffed at their presumptuousness. And then they were guiding you to kneel on the cushions placed before the large, polished bit of bronze propped along the wall, using the reflection so that you may observe the process as they worked. You were in a fog as they combed your hair and set it and pinned it in a way that they deemed worthy, but you cannot stop thinking of that velvet timber and the feeling of being watched by concealed eyes prickles along your body. And you try to ignore the sensation, telling yourself that it is just paranoia. 
But you could not dwell on your troubles for long before you had taken notice of the strip of fabric from the corner of your eye. And a better look had confirmed it was indeed that dreadful gown that had been laid out along the cushions. You stared from your peripheral vision and each time your head moved even the slightest degree out of their disliking one of the maids would jerk it back into place, scolding you underneath their breath, but your eyes did not stray from the pieces of clothing once. It would have been a gorgeous thing if not for the horror that is comes with it. A vibrant scarlet and intricate gold and black stitching and embroidery. But you could not marvel over its beauty, instead you eyed it warily as though it was poisonous. And perhaps it was.
It truly disturbed you. That horrid red thing that signaled the final chapter of your life, and you could hear the anguished cries and manic laughter of the brides from your nightmare echoing out from the depths of your mind. You could not suppress the way you shuddered. Was that meant to be your fate? A captive in her own body, suppressed underneath a spell of eternal slumber while her body wasted away in a forgotten tomb? You had heard rumors of what happened to the nightmare king's brides after the ritual. Presumptions truly, fabricated speculation that had no true foundation as the priestesses are very private about the affairs of the ceremony that do not require the presence of the villagers. And the townspeople are typically guided out of the temple after the connection between the Chosen and the Endless has been successfully tethered.
Most speculations were good natured enough. Painting the role of becoming one of the Dream King's brides in a lavish light. Something to be envious of, with many saying that to be one of his Chosen was to spend eternity of nights in endless pleasure, with the world at your fingertips. 
But there had been other more sinister whispers, idle gossip that the unconscious brides were taken to a subterranean set of tunnels built underneath the temple. Dug to house the women as they slept on, not killed so as not to sever the link between them and the dream god but kept animated and sleeping within the icy tombs of the catacombs. Kept that way so that the deity could torment them in the halls of kingdom for all eternity. Feasting on their souls and flesh. But many refuse to believe the rumor, even your own father had rebutted the very possibility, as he was a firm believer that the Chosen were simply killed off after the ritual and their bodies were burned so that the ashes could be released upon the winds and lifted to the gods along with the plume incents and smoldering herbs. 
But neither option fared well for you. 
"You had seemed quite distressed when we came in. Did you have a nightmare, my lady?" Euthymia asks, voice sickly sweet with false sincerity. "How strange that the Dream King would allow his Chosen to be harassed by his spirits." And she pats the juice of crushed mulberries onto the rise of your cheeks to add color to your skin, but the push of her fingertips was much too harsh. You were tempted to lunge at her but restrained yourself. 
"Not at all. In fact, I had a rather pleasant dream. " You reply cooly, not allowing her to see you shaken and you tilt your head, pretending to admire the way that they had dressed your hair and decorated it with flowers and pieces of jewels. " It was a rather pleasurable one." 
"Pleasurable?" Comes her nonplussed response and her hand pauses, simply hovering. 
"Oh, yes." You speak lowly, like you are sharing a scandalous story, and your tone is all smooth and honeyed. " It was not a nightmare that visited me, but the Dream King himself. " And you cannot help but internally gloat at the way that some part of her seems to waver, visibly deflating underneath your lie. " He had crawled between my thighs you see and ravished me with his tongue in ways that no mortal man ever could." Even the other ladies had halted in their routine, stopping to listen to your hastily spun fib. And you casted your gaze downward to your hands demurely, like you were shy or embarrassed that you had lost your manners. Scandalized, the other maids had bent towards each other and exchange giggling whispers, but Euthymia was less than enthused. And for the remainder of your time together she had been tightlipped and scowling, and you were surprised that a storm cloud had not been following her every move with how bothered she seemed to be. 
But you could not deny that she made a good point. Why had you suffered from a nightmare at all? It had been sometime since you had. You could hardly recall when it had been last. Perhaps you truly had done something to anger the god. But that had been him, had it not? The one who had come to your aid and taken you in his arms and spoke to you with that smoky cadence. It must have been if the way that he had ended your dream so easily was any indication. And that primordial vibration that had surrounded you both; it was the same that you had felt at the pyre when that strange man was watching. 
And perhaps tonight you would get the answers that you seek, but then you might not want them. 
The rest of the day pours in a distorted stream, and you hardly register slipping into you into that disturbing red garb and you barely notice when the priestesses and temple guards arrive to collect you from the maids and guide you to the dinning haul of the commune where you are assisted down to the sunken floor in the center of the room as some sort of center piece, once again forcing you to sit underneath the eyes of hundreds. You feel exposed, as though you were not wearing clothes at all. Stripped for them to criticize and leer at. You were sure that every person in the village was here to enjoy the banquet. Even the servants were allotted freedom from their duties for the final night of the ritual and were free do dine alongside their masters as equals. 
And once again they had provided you with the best meats and fruits and wine available. The finest of the bounty collected over the farms and orchards for you to gorge yourself on like a swine before its slaughter and because of that you could not bring yourself to eat despite the hollow pit in your gut that begged you to do so.  And you could feel the Priestesses dozen eyes boring into from their place from above, no doubt taking your refusal to eat as not just an insult to themselves but to their god as well. Good. 
But the townspeople did not seem to care, laughing freely and enjoying the festivities without pause and you had been forced to sit as time waned and the sun drifted closer and closer towards the edge of the earth, no matter how much you wished and willed for it not to. And once the townspeople had finished indulging on mead and wine and satiated their hunger, the shrine had collected you once more to climb upon the palanquin that awaited outside, surrounded by servants who prepared to march you across the town from the strength of their shoulders to the Temple of Morpheus where death awaited you. You had tried to struggle against the shackles of the hierodules hands that had seized your arms and shoulders like bands of steel. But you could not shake yourself from their grip and they were mercilessly placing you upon the extravagant cushions of the human-powered vehicle to be suspended high in the air. 
And the townspeople congregated around you as you were carried from the walls of the commune and into the streets, lighting the way with burning torches. And many people had once again adorned themselves in the beastly costumes and danced and cavorted around the palanquin and through the crowd. The Sisters' lead the collective. And you had noticed in the head priestesses' hands, she cradled an obsidian bowl covered by a lid decorated by strokes of gold. A harmless item that on its own would have done nothing to inspire fear in you, but you had heard hushed conversation of its contents before. Some sort of vapor that smoldered from the extract of the poppy flower, and it would serve to tether you to the gods. Or in this occasion one god in particular. 
And once again blossoms and seeds were being tossed over the procession in a celebratory display. In the hands of men and women and children alike people carried votive offerings for the Endless, such as figurines of animals and carvings of a humanoid figure.  And in the cavalcade, musicians were present, playing from a kithara and an aulos, and a lyra. But even over the cheering and commotion and music you could hear a soft repetitive ruffle along the low breeze. You had jerked your head up to search the sky, nearly straining a muscle in the process but the pain had faded into the background at the sight of a dark bird coasting along the current. And a faint iridescent sheen had gleamed on its feathers from underneath the dimming sunlight and the Priestesses - and in turn the crowd had all rejoiced at the bird's appearance, as it no doubt heralded good fortune. 
But you did not share their positive reactions. You heard all the stories, that the ravens were the dark god's familiars, serving as his eyes and ears when he himself could not be present. Your anxiety had not time to settle no matter how much you tried to swallow it down and the presence of the circling bird did nothing to quell the bubbling fear in your gut and bones. 
And soon the procession ventured from the village and the pale marble of the temple seemed to rise from the hill behind the security of its protective wall. It was the only building that had been spared in the initial siege from the Oneiroi when the Nightmare King had abandoned the village in his scorn. It is just the same as when you had last saw it as a child. The ghostly white columns that reminded you of the remains of a skeleton, and the sculpted pediment that depicted beastly creatures in various poses; lashing out and snarling while some seemed to be frozen in the motion of dance. But in the center was a more human figure. No doubt the Endless himself. And the scene was painted in blues and black, with hints of red and gold embellishments.  
And the closer you got to the temple the more your anxiety climbed, until you trembled where you sat, staring into the vacant eyes of the god's sculptured image. And even those they were not real they seemed to bore into you and flay you open until all of your emotions and shaky breaths poured out. Even the sheer fabric of your veil did little to lessen the feeling. 
It was not until you felt hands circling the shape of your arms that you came to and were able to discern that you had been lowered to the ground of the courtyard and were being pulled from your knees, and you were wordlessly guided up the temple. But you did not feel the stairs underneath your feet and the music and laughter sounded as though it were coming from miles away, carried in on a foreign wind. And even when you stepped upon the landing and two of the sisters spun you around to face the crowd down below that had not felt real either. It was like looking at a tapestry of faded figures and blurred colors. 
Then the head priestess stepped in front of you in a flash of black, blotting out your vision of the crowd like the moon obstructing the sun in an eclipse, but you were thankful for it. Then her voice broke out in a shrill bellow, the passion expelling from her cracking it around the edges. " Tonight marks the emergence of our return to grace and glory from underneath the compassion of our god! " She cried and the crowd cried along with her, waving their torches animatedly to show their elation. " No longer will we be shunned by His Sovereignty for we have been given a chance to correct a wrong that should never have happened! To bow our heads in humble plea and return to him which was stolen all those years ago!" 
It made you nauseous the way they spoke of you. As though you were some frivolous token to be bartered. How they did not see you or any of the women before you as human beings with lives and wants and futures but as a cow to be slaughtered. A coin to be exchanged for lavish fabrics and abundant crops. And you could feel the stinging heat of anger filling your chest and pushing out heavy breaths from your lungs. But when the Head Priestess had shifted and moved from out of your vision it left you to make eye contact with the cheering masses; her voice had faded into a low, distant drone. And inside their crazed sort of jubilation, you could see every other emotion that you had felt since the Endless had descended his hoard upon the village in incessant torment: Loss, pain, fear, hunger, sorrow, confusion. 
Many lives have been lost since the day that he had seemed you all unworthy of his gratitude and sanctuary. He had turned the land barren and dry and the animals that had once flourished here have all been culled by his nightmares and their numbers have suffered and dwindled greatly. But as much as you sympathized with these people, understood their plight, you did not owe them anything. Certainly not your life. Especially since they had casted you from your home without so much as a backward glance, forcing you live along the forest all because you were not a kept woman. 
And in five years' time there would be another there would be another girl here, standing just as you do now, willing or unwilling to bear the collectives sins, to pacify the Endless for the good fortune. It would be a ceaseless loop. History repeating itself one poor soul at a time. 
A part of you considered fighting free from the sisters' hold. Of running down the steps and out of the temple grounds without looking back. But even if you happened to make it past the massive crowd of desperate villagers and to the sea, there were no ships, no small rowboats left for fishing. All of the seafaring vessels had been all but demolished by his spirits to keep all of the locals who wronged him trapped on the island to endure the full brunt of his punishment. And even those who have managed to hide the construction boats - avoiding the Ruler of Nightmares many scrutinizing eyes and pushed their watercraft into the dark waves while underneath the shine of the sun, when his influence was claimed to be at its weakest had all disappeared into the heavy wall of fog that surrounds the coast. Only the remains of their boats would float back to shore, sometimes with blood staining the waves.
You truly were left to the fate that these people and their god spared you to. 
Then the head priestess was spinning around in a flurry of robes, and you could not evade the fervor of her gaze, could not flee from, still immobilized by her sisters and their rigid hold of their hands. The gleam in her eyes was detached and wild; the darkness of her pupils swelling, eating up the colored rings around their borders until they were nearly gone. It was the expression of someone who could not be reasoned with. Poisoned by power and hope. But you did not waver underneath the weight of her fixed stare. 
Then one of the sisters was gripping you by the nape of your neck, the movement unexpected enough to pull a startled cry from your lips. It did not give you time to register the obsidian bowl being lifted to your face, the lid being removed to release plumes of smoke. Even through the veil you could feel the warmth of the vapors caressing the skin of your cheeks. It is all so abrupt that you inhale a large lungful in the midst of your struggle, and the scent of it overwhelms you. Stuffing your mouth and nostrils full of something sweet and floral, tinged with the musk of the earth. It reminds you of flowers, of incents but also not at all. And your lungs are too busy heaving around the unexpected rush of smoke and your mind too confused and scrambled to feel or focus on the world around you, and the Priestesses voice was the last coherent thing to break through the fog: "Do not fight this, my dear. " Her voice crooned. Too sweet, to gentle for her cruelty. "To you we give thanks for your sacrifice for our prosperity." 
And in your distress, you tried to think of anything to keep yourself grounded and present. Anything to keep you here in your body, terrified of crossing over and falling into the Nightmare King's gnashing teeth. So you think of your list of chores awaiting you at home; tending to the garden now that life was coming back to the soil, setting more traps in the forest, plucking wild strawberries from the small cluster that you had discovered growing in a small grove, seeing Cat again - the little beast refuses to eat unless you prompt him to (there is no one else to take care of him) - and walking along the beach during the sunrise. Feeling the sand and water underneath your toes and watching the sunlight reflect and dapple the surface. But soon the thoughts were drowning out underneath the impression of the fuzz and haze that blanked your mind. You felt as though your soul was rising from the casing of your body and floating up to the sky above the temple, but you could still feel your knees making contact with the cold marble floors, though the feeling was far off and dull. But there was still anger simmering through your veins. Hurt and betrayal. What were you mad about? 
And the world around you is a rush of colors and blurred shapes and muffled sounds. But you do not want to focus on it regardless. You can't when the weightlessness is pulling at your fingertips and threatening to take you away with it (but you can't leave, what about him?) and deposit you among the stars, and the only thing that gives you even a scrap of connection to your own body is the repetitive pulse of your heartbeat coursing in your ears. The floral sugar and salt of the smoke still coats your tongue, and you can feel it in your lungs, heavy and syrupy. And the drag of your relaxed limbs seems to pull you down now instead of up, with the thrum of your heart doing little to center you anymore. But its less of a pulse now and more of pound -an angry crash. That's not right, is it? 
You try to blink. To get some scope of reality, but it's difficult to keep your eyes past the blurred sting. Are you crying? No, that is not right either. It is no longer a steady beat, but a deafening layered rumble, muffled but also painfully loud. You can faintly see past the red sheer of your veil glimpses of black and blue streak across your vision, with peeks of flashes of tiny pale dots.
It is all to distorted and airy. Too muddled for your mind to make something tangible but then your body is being tossed by some unforeseen force. A sharp, unrelenting pull that moves your entire being like it weighs nothing and the air is snatched from your lungs, and you choke on something. Some deeply imbedded survival instinct awakens and your body flails, limbs dragging and reaching through the thick atmosphere in attempt to grab ahold of something. Anything to orient yourself and make sense of what is happening to you, but your hands come up empty. Your lungs twitch, trying to draw in a breath but instead they burn, and the sting is so potent that it licks a trail up your throat and the pungent taste of salt blankets you tongue.
Water, some faint thought breaches the cotton that stuffs your skull. You're in water. 
And your body moves on its own, arms and legs kicking to propel in what you hope is the direction of the surface. In a glance upward you notice the distorted expanse of what must be the waves, and through the commotion above you see that glimpse of those burning pinpricks of light again and with no other alternative, fueled by an animalistic sort of fear you swim towards it. You can only hope that you make it up in time, with your lungs aching and burning like smoldering embers within your chest. You can already feel your limbs growing sluggish from the lack of oxygen and the heavy tow of your ceremonial robes, but you try your best to keep moving, dragging yourself forward with weak arms and legs. But death still hangs heavy in the back of your mind. And for the second time tonight you're terrified that this may be your final moments, with your legs flailing uselessly and the darkness clouding at the base of your senses like a layer of winter ice. It makes it difficult, but it is sheer instinct and panic and hope that burns at your muscles, reviving them of their vigor and pressing you onwards. 
It is your hands that break through the surf first, quickly followed by your head and you could have sobbed with relief if you were not busy trying not to remain afloat and actively choking on the water in your throat. And you push yourself forward, even as the waves toss you in their angry roll against the shore. But blessedly under the current that threatens to drag you under and drown you it also serves to propel you forward towards the beach, jostling your body with their great power and you feel like a child's toy that had been lost over the side of a boat. It is on the pale crest of an angry wave that you meet the shore, being carelessly discarded on the sand and the rush of water pelts across your back, soaking you one final time before retreating back into the ocean behind you. 
You gather as much as strength as you have left to prop yourself up on your hands and knees, carrying yourself across the beach with wobbling limbs while your abdomen and chest shiver and heave in a violent fit. The muscles of your body squeezing you tightly to expel the sea water from your lungs in a shaky grip that has you gasping and wheezing. And even though your lungs sting like a raw wound as you suck in a ragged inhale, the dim feel of oxygen filling your lungs is wonderful, like a healing ointment smoothed over a fresh burn. You allow yourself to collapse onto your stomach once you escape the reach of the sea, but it is difficult to see, to hear and even still hard to breathe with the thin fabric of your veil clinging to the shape of your face from the weight of the water pulling the material down, pressing it against the divots of your nostrils nearly waterboarding you with each breath. 
You blindly yank at the veil, tearing it and your Stefana from your head with an angry huff, carelessly tossing it. You do not see where it falls but you can hear it land with an unattractive wet plap. You blink freely now able to take in your surroundings now that, that cursed thing is no longer tainting your vision. You deduce quickly that you are on a beach. Obviously. But it does not appear to be the one that you often find yourself strolling down on your free time, fantasizing about distant lands or the Isles of the Blessed, or the islands where the sirens live and lure sailors to their deaths. The sand was far too pale. Too soft. And when you moved it seemed to glitter like snow underneath sunlight. But it was a glance upward that confirmed your awful reality. The sky above was not yours. The scattering of stars not sparing enough and the expanse of it was not simply a dark backdrop but splashed with vibrant rich nebulas of azure and silver and pale golds against the black velvet of space. The stardust seemed to shift as though the heavens were a living breathing thing. And the constellations above you are unrecognizable. There is no Orion, lunging forward to strike or brace against the blow of a foe, and the scattered knot of the Pleiades is absent from the sky.  
Your heart sinks to the base of your gut and a heated rock seems to lodge itself in your throat, rising with the threat of tears all from the bruising reality that you are no longer home. Not just the island, or your house, but the entire plain of your existence. Plucked from everything you have ever known by the hands of your people to appease a monster. Heartlessly thrown into the deity's domain. Forgotten and used. 
You remembered the tales told by your mother and the words that had been passed down from priestess to priestess across the centuries that spoke of the Nightmare Ruler's world: The Dreaming, it was called. The place that served as the cradle of the universe's collective unconsciousness, housing the minds a mortal, beast and god alike while they slept. An extension of the Endless himself. The entire realm was a dream in its own right. That means that you must be able to wake from it. Perhaps you could will yourself awake if you concentrated enough. You have been never much of a lucid dreamer. Only able to do small feats of altering landscapes or changing the color of your dress. You had never been aware enough to wake yourself. But maybe here in the Dreaming you would be able to conjuror some sort of exit. 
You centered your attention down to a single thought: Waking up. Of feeling the drag of consciousness slipping back into your physical body and opening your eyes. And you pushed that thought until your body responded with the ferocity of it, your muscles tensing under the strain of it, and you are left gasping, the same as you had when you crawled ashore. You think of your body, still and induced in that horrific stasis, being purified underneath the smoke of incense and wrapped in the red silk and voile fabric by the Priestesses to be carried and stuffed down in the catacombs like a forgotten relic. You thought of waking suddenly. Of tearing yourself from the cloth and fleeing home and dropping to your knees to burry your fingers in the soil there and crying with the relief that would swell within your chest and blossom with the joy of being home. 
And you had found that in your desperation you had actually crumbled to your knees, but you did not feel the gentle earth beneath your hands but sand.
You take to pinching at your arm in a pathetic attempt to try and escape the Dreaming, twisting the flesh between your fingertips until it stung but to no avail. 
And a low, heavy wind rumbled across the beach, howling over the waves and the field of crimson blossoms and golden wheat, punctuating the silence and the loneliness that hung over you like the aftermath of a tempest. Defeat weighed down your shoulders as you watched the thrashing ocean with a sense of detachedness. Then something in the air seemed to shift, pulsing with something alive. That distantly familiar alien thrum and you could feel it against your skin; a magnetic pressure that reminded you of a brief night in the cosmos, held in a tight embrace. You did not have to turn to confirm who the presence was. You did not know if you had the strength to. The fear and gravity of the beings pull nearly seized your lungs, and you clenched your hands into fist to bear the feeling of it. And then that velveteen rasp speaks out, moving down your body like a flow of water and smoke and you can feel the hum of it in your bones.  
"I had no intention of your arrival being so distressful. Had you not struggled your coming would not have been so violent. " His tone is a placid timbre, but you swear you can detect sympathy - perhaps a sort of regret - tinged into the edges of his words. But it does little to placate you. His detached surprise at your anguish only serves to mutate your sorrow and defeat and it gives way into anger, searing at you like a burning fire that needs something to burn, and chars any remaining pieces of your self-preservation and wit, making you forget that you were in front of deity that has seen eons come and go in its lifetime and was currently holding your mind and possibly your soul hostage. But you did not care. Not now, with your entire life in an upheaval. And even then, you still can't bring yourself to look at it - the source of that primordial electric pulse. To confirm all of your fears, that home was truly out of reach, that you were entirely out of depth and in a plain that you did not belong in. There was a safety in your delusions, your self-imposed ignorance. And so you stared at the angry, rolling waves and pretended that they were your own, not daring to turn yet. "What was your intention? " You inquired, not even bothering to hide the scorn in your broken voice. Not caring of the consequences. " That you'd just steal me away from everything I've ever known, and I'd be content with it?" 
"Look at me. " 
It is a simple set of words, but the conviction of it beats across the very fabric that binds and creates the Dreaming, rippling over the sand, shifting stars and stirring the already tumulus waves to threatening heights and the power of it runs through your unconsciousness as well, tingling across your body and it commands you to move. An unwelcome reminder of your mortality and the scope of the deity and his domain. You turn slowly, helpless to ignore the order even while you dread looking upon him. Wondering if he would wear the skin of a monster to punish you for your ire. Perhaps contorted limbs and bloody jagged teeth or stretched flesh and the lifeless abysmal gaze of that otherworldly helm.
There is none of that. No cloak made of nightmares or terror. Just a man. But that is not right either. 
Regardless of the glamour he had casted this was no man. Ignoring the information as told by the naked eye all of the minute tells became glaringly obvious, such as the way his skin was too soft and free from blemish or flaw, like the statues crafted in his commemoration; the messy tresses of his hair that appeared as though they were spun from the night sky itself and the impossible blue of his eyes that mimicked the shade of a crystalline sea, or perhaps they were a reflection of the very nebulas above you now. He is so beautiful that it is almost cruel. You have to wonder why he chose you specifically. That he has been watching over you since the night at the pyre. Long before that even. That, that same voice had spoken to you during your sleep and commanded you to wake, and once again you are unable to ignore it, standing from your place on the sand. 
The brunt of his gaze is too much- scrutinizing. You felt like you were stripped bare. Every nerve, every want or worry or promise that you had ever made was laid out across the shore for him examine. You quailed underneath the breadth of it, the sheer intensity was maddening - that there seemed to be no secret that you could hide from him. The entirety of your mind held within the webbing of his domain for him study and toy with.  
"Why do you fear me?" He asked, and you could laugh or cry at the question but neither would do proper service to express the severity of your emotions. The turmoil and confusion. He sounded so sincere. Just as perplexed as you even though his stance was devoid of any body language. Rigid and exact, with an almost clinical posture. But you could see it in his eyes. A small, fleeting glimpse of his own confusion, a slight furrow of an eyebrow, but it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, erased and blotted out by that aloof expression. 
You were not even sure how to respond, and for a moment your mouth hangs open silently while you collect yourself and find your voice: " I - just - all of the death. " You finally answer lamely, trying to swallow around the dryness of your throat. " The slaughter and starvation. The disease. The suffering." 
"They broke their promise. " It was said so simply. As though it was enough to justify the atrocities and it made nausea bubble in your gut, and hatred too. 
"All because of a woman." You cannot contain the way you scoff, shifting on your feet like you do not know whether to approach him or step away and create more space, your body prickling underneath weight of his aura and his unwavering observation. "You had hundreds slaughtered because you were not given one woman." 
"That is the price for bargaining with an Endless and taking back your word." He replied easily. A simple matter of fact for him, like it was a natural law, a part of his nature that should be expected and understood without consequence, that all failures to comply could not be faulted on him. It was just another tough reminder that this was no mortal that you stood before and that he could not be expected to obey or sympathize with the jurisdictions of your human morality.  
And there was a shift in his expression, something steely and resolute, and the distance between your bodies seemed to close in even though neither of you had placed a single step until there was only a scant space left between you. " I will do the same for you. " 
There was no past tense used. And perhaps under different circumstances you could have seen it as an intimate declaration of love, but it was uttered with a conviction that you could feel and the threat - the promise was hauntingly clear. That he would lay waste to the remaining people of your village if you refused. And although his body remained unmoved, the pressure of his influence hummed and molded against you and robbed you of your breath. It felt like you were standing within the deluge of a summer storm, caught within spires of stardust and the heat of a nova. 
"Their crime is no longer yours to bear. " He said calmly - soothingly like he was trying to placate you. " You will not be harmed. " 
"Is that really true? " You ask, still full of disbelief and contempt and this time you do venture to take a step back and blessedly he allows you, and you cannot help but be thankful that he does not shift the sands to draw you in closer.  "They tell stories of what you do to your tributes once you have them, I'm sure you've heard. That you mold yourself into the likeness of a beast and hunt them, chasing them down the halls of your palace and tearing them limb from limb for eternity: A cycle of death and pain." 
And that pale animal gleam from the bonfire burns alight in his eyes and it does little to quell your steady stream of anxiety, but his indignation does not seem to be aimed at you specifically. " Is that truly what you believe?" And there is a gentleness to him, the annoyance receding as though he was more perturbed than angry, and a part of you nearly regrets having told him, but you squash that scrap of emotion before anything can come of it. "That I am some heartless monster than means to torture you for my entertainment."  
"Well, what else am I supposed to be led to think?" Surely a being of his scope, of his age and power must realize the severity of his actions. The violence and heartache that has bleed across the island and tainted the soil at his command. The senseless slaughter and starvation, forced to helplessly watch as your loved ones succumbed to it. The horrid, twisted sleepless nights and soiled dreams, and then you can hear it again, that twisted vacant laughter, rushing blood and mutilated shadows. " Especially after you sent your nightmares out to trouble me." 
"I promise that I have done no such thing" He assured, but it did little to soothe your frazzled state. " I gave them all specific instruction not to harm you, but they are not without their own free will, and I have delt with it accordingly." He spoke of his creatures as though they were misbehaving children. Simply spoiled and wayward, and not cruel, sadistic beasts. And perhaps he truly did not mean for one of his Oneiroi to haunt you in the night. After all, he did arrive to banish the spirit from your unconsciousness, to wrap his arms around your body in a secure embrace before ending the dream. But regardless of the fact, you could not forgive him.  
"I don't care. I want to go home." 
"Is that truly what you are clinging to? Those empty cold walls, vacant of family or companionship?  Or is it them? The very people that so freely discarded you. Abandoned and out casted you as though you were a leper." 
He was right of course. You were already well aware of the fact, but it did not make it sting any less to hear, and the old memories that rose up were less than welcome. A painful reminder that even your own father and mother had rejected you, not physically but the emotional disconnect had been there. A rift had torn between your dynamic like a gaping, festering wound that had never truly healed.  They had never looked at you the same, the both of them loathing you for marring the family name and social standing. And the other villagers would all murmur and stare in disdain whenever you had ventured into town to collect fruits or fresh meats at the local market, all because you had slept with a man as an unmarried woman. And your alienation was palpable. But you did not want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it and caving in. 
"No- they didn't-" 
"But they did, didn't they?" You could not stand his confidence. How he held his head high with that resolute air of certitude and kingly ego, how the air pulsed over you and tingled at your flesh like a balm. "Leaving you all in alone in that quiet little house, hoping that you'd fall prey to one of my nightmares." 
He steps forward crowding into your space with that pale wicked gleam in his eyes and the stars hanging in the sky behind him seem to warp towards his person, as though they were trying to leave their heavenly cradle to follow him. You heart speeds from apprehension surely, but you don't find yourself leaning away from his body or trying to flee. You are stock still, hardly able to spare any pieces of your attention on anything other than him. And then he is lifting a hand to brush against your cheek, featherlight but somehow still reverent in its glide and you can feel the life radiating from it. Ice and heat simultaneously, cosmos and earth. 
"I can give you everything you crave. The life you've always dreamed of having." His voice that dark velvet purr, draping around you temptingly.  "You will want for nothing." But you are hardly hearing his words anymore too preoccupied with the tender trail of his curled fingers; his knuckles tracing a blaze of warmth down your throat, slipping down dangerously close to the bit of your chest exposed by the low hang of the garment. But his hand pauses in its descent, stopping just a few inches from the valley between your breasts, and you cannot hide the way that your body shivers at the contact, a heat stirring within you. "But it is a decision that must be made of your own accord." 
And then he is backing away from you, allowing the atmosphere to clear of its electrical charge and for oxygen fill your lungs, but your body mourns the loss of his touch regardless of your returned breath. And it is then that you are able to realize what he had said, and some bit of hope blossoms, and now it is you who makes after him, following his path as he glides through the field of red and gold. 
"Wait? I can go home if choose to?" 
"No." 
"But you just sai-"
He turns to you so quickly that it is surprising, whipping around in a stream of darkness, and in the distant stars held within the fabric of his chlamys adjust with the movement. "You are a part of the Dreaming now. There is no place for you in the mortal realm - not anymore." 
The revelation has the same effect as a pail of ice water being doused over you. Unforgiving, paralyzing. And this time you do not have the ability to respond, far too busy grappling all of the emotions that are clamoring for the forefront.  
"Your home is here now. " He insists, lips pursed in a petulant sort of way. " Regardless of if you decide to take your place alongside me, this is where you must stay. Even if you were to leave this instant, time within the Dreaming does not abide by the same laws of your world. You would return to a point not of your own. Lost in a time entirely unfamiliar." 
And the chasm that has been threatening to break seems to grow deeper, fissures and cracks breaking at the foundations. And you vehemently want to deny him. To call him out for lying. Surely, he must be, how good can the Nightmare Ruler's word truly be? Is he a being that can possibly be trusted? But if he is correct, telling the complete truth and you were able to return to your realm would you be able to survive it? The sight of your home now years, if not decades old crumpled and dilapidated from the unforgiving pressure of time might break you. He must notice that vulnerability wearing down on you, because something in his gaze softens and you wished that he didn't look like he cared because some horrid part of you - the same one that had preened underneath his touch - is comforted by his attention, left wanting for it even and you are finding it difficult to be revolted or angry anymore. You would like to blame it on remnants of that perfumed smoke being still in your system, but truthfully you have not felt its influence since you had been dunked into the ocean. The brackish water and chaotic waves seeming to have strained it from your system. Or perhaps it had been the Dreaming itself that had done so, assisted with the fact that you may not even be tethered to your body at all anymore, the effects of the smoke too distant to reach your spirit that has drifted too far from its body. Maybe you truly do belong to his realm now. And you wait for that coal of anger to burn again, but it never comes, leaving you feeling hollow and broken. Exhausted even while you stand in a world fashioned from dreams. "I'm just tired . . . " You mourn weakly, watching the reeds and blossoms sway in the soft wind. 
"Then let me ease your burden. " His voice is much closer than it had been before, and when you jerk your head up, startled from the proximity of it, the point of your nose nearly brushed against his. You are immediately drawn into the all-consuming center of his gaze, and it feels like you are being held within it, called to the edge of something yawning and consuming, beckoning you to jump and you do not think that you have the strength to pull back from it. And you found that you did not want to. 
He has not made any means to move, leaving it to you to close the distance and you do, the hesitation thawing. He tracts you as you draw near, seeming to hold a breath that he did not need, and he appears tense, rigid like he was physically restraining himself with a practiced sort of patience. And it might have frightened you earlier, but the fervor in them does nothing to dissuade you now if anything it only serves to motivate you. Inside those pale irises you see cyan and indigo and sapphire flaring like nebulas drawing you in like a flower leaning towards the sun, and for a moment you swear you caught a glimpse of something else lurking inside of them, a glimmer of his true self perhaps; something vast and entirely beyond you. It felt ancient and ever-expanding, ignited and twisting and looming. And you felt like you were on the horizon of making sense of it and both entirely too far, slipping through your muddled understanding like sand and smoke, scorching like a harsh ice. 
It is the whisper of his nose brushing against yours that draws you from your fixation, a delicate sensation but it was blessedly enough to bring you back to the present, assisted by the rich rumble of his voice. "Come back to me. " 
"I nearly fell in, " you murmur back. And it was not a lie, you had nearly lost yourself in the paradox and cosmos that created him but it was also said in an attempt to jest. And you succeeded it seemed if the light, barely there rise at the corner of his mouth way any indication. It all feels fragile, unsure but not unwelcome. Like life returning to the earth after a harsh winter, blossoms breaking through sheets of snow, guided by the tender thaw of sunlight. 
"May I touch you?" He asks, tilting his head to just barely skim the fulness of his lips against yours, not kissing you but just enough to leave your skin tingling in their wake. It is a simple question, but it is enough to have that burning ache coming alive again, taking root deep in the base of your abdomen and you find yourself nodding. Frustratingly enough he does not move, ever a pillar of restraint and he leans his head back when you tilt to close the distance between you. And you catch the smug air that surround him, and you would have snapped at him if you had the gall to, if you did not want him to just kiss you already.
"Use your words. " That dark honeyed resonance tramples any semblance of a barb that you had even fleetingly entertained. The Dreaming has long since gone quiet, seeming to betray its creator's appearance of undisturbed control with the febrile energy that tangled around the both of you, fueling your own growing need with its charge. And you were unable to withhold the plead that leaves you, a floaty sigh: "Please touch me." 
You do not compute him nearing, eliminating the remaining space that divided you to press his lips against your own, suddenly they just are. It is soft, explorative but not without longing. And the sheer need behind it has your knees going weak, and if not for the appearance of an arm around your waist you feared that you might have actually fallen. Your body thrums with a sort of unsuppressed elation, a syrupy heat spreading across your limbs and dripping down your spine, settling between the cradle of your hips from the swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, silently asking for your permission. You thread your finger through the silken tresses of his hair and lightly scratch across his scalp. You can only feel the groan rumbling against your lips when you allow him to lick into your mouth and you immediately decide that you need to actually hear it. You are sure that the sound of that husky timbre breathing out in a rapturous moan will haunt you for the rest of eternity, and you could not wait to hear it. 
He cups your face in a single hand, securing your head with the curl of his fingers, allowing him to slant the plush of his mouth against you in an angle that let him to pull you in closer, enfolding you into the warmth of his chest. And the remaining doubt and restraint that had seemed to hold you two back was quickly beginning to melt, giving way to carnal sort of urgency. And already you are left panting, sweeping your hands across any part of him that you can, gripping the watery flow of his robes to center yourself through it all. 
You had not felt yourself tipping but your back is now pressed against the textured terrain of the Dreaming, the crushed stalks of reeds and flowers lightly digging at your skin, though it does little to take precedence over your current focus. And he is pulling away from your mouth to duck his head neath your chin, nipping and sucking at the skin there until its tender and you can tell by the way that he tucks your flesh between his teeth and licks that he is leaving marks in his wake, staking his claim upon your body and the mere idea of it has you lowly keening into the night; your body going lax underneath his. All things considered; he has not done much but your brain is already clouding with want, eyes glazing over. And then the heat of his mouth is sealing over your breast, the silk texture of your robe only adding to the pleasure as his tongue circles around your taut nipple. You can't help the way that you arch into it, seeking out more mindlessly but it is not enough. It is does little more than tease you, even with the way that he has draped himself over you he has himself suspended in a way that keeps you from being able to achieve the friction that you desire, stoking that heat inside you with eat nip and suck from his teeth and mouth. 
You can hear him chuckling from above you, the vibrations of his low smug amusement tingling across your chest, adding to your pleasure. If you were not so preoccupied with thoughtlessly trying to grind against his abdomen like a whore, you might have snapped at him for it, but instead you are removing your hands from the rich earth to sweep through his unruly hair, holding him against you instead, melting underneath the feel of his tongue. 
He does not let you have that for long either, releasing the swell of your breast and ducking from your grip, nuzzling a path down the plain of your abdomen and taking your thighs into the smooth glide of his hands, ignoring your protesting cry as he licks at your stomach from over the barrier of the silk. And once again you find yourself cursing that dreadful fabric, swearing into the night while you squirm in his hands. 
"Easy, sweet thing. " He coos, the image of patience. And if not for the wild, glow twinkling in both of his eyes like a beast you would not even think he was affected in the way that you are. That burning light serves as a reminder that he is not normal man, that you are rabbit ensnared within the jaws of a wolf, a mortal lying with a god. But it does not frighten you anymore. Instead, it douses fuel over an already steady flame. And you find yourself hoping to be consumed, taken between the teeth of this dark, cosmic deity and eaten alive. 
His descent does not stop, the point of his nose dragging down until it stops over your mons pubis and your whole body tenses in anticipation, waiting for him to move just a bit lower, to bundle your skirts in his hands and take you into his mouth. But he does not do any of that. He simply hovers there. His clutch on your thighs tightens, threatening to turn your flesh tender and you swear that you can feel the points of talons pricking at you, but it is too dark from the cover of the moonless night to see if he truly has grown claws in his passion - if they have drawn blood. Not that you would have minded if they had. You wanted it. Wanted his claim visible on your body, open to be seen by anyone who may gaze upon you. A trickle of concern does make it through the honeyed smoke of your want, as fleeting as it is, and it is quickly forgotten. Casted aside at the sound of a soft repetitive panting filling the silence. It does not take you long to realize that it is coming from him. He is breathing in your scent, hovering over the heat of you to take lungful's of your arousal. 
It is completely debased. Dirty. But the sight of a this primordial being kneeling between your legs and drawing in the scent of you in this perverted display that you would expect from man and not a god has you moaning into the air. Your cunt throbs, clenching around nothing while you rock your hips near his mouth. His grip tightens once again, smarting your skin while he tries to pin your body even while he chases the shift of your hips. And for one moment you think that he may finally ease both of your discomfort, feed the hunger ravaging your bodies but then horribly, he is pulling from you, leaving you to pant into the open air in a confused daze. "Why did you stop? "
"Let me taste you. " He said thickly, and his eyes shimmer again like the stars suspended in the heavens behind him. "Let me drink from you- worship you." 
His words have your mouth going dry and that aching heat pooling between your thighs. Never in your life have you ever known a man so desperate to pleasure you. To practically beg for it with a barely concealed avidity. That an Endless would ask for your permission. But he is no man after all. And you are nodding once again, but he does not move until the echo of that old sentence chimes in your head, use your words, you remember, and you manage to utter a rushed, "please" out from a shaky huff.  
He rumbles in a pleased way, the Dreaming trembling lightly with the resonance of his satisfaction. You hardly have time to blink before your ceremonial garb all but vanishes, baring you to the soft breeze and then a soft warmth enveloping your wet cunt, leaving you to jerk in surprise and scramble to grab something, anything to tether you. You claw at the field, the soil, before combing them into his hair while you gasp. All the while he is completely immovable, fixed to you throughout your writhing, lapping at your slit to collect the taste of you on his tongue and drink it down with a content purr, before licking up so that he can suckle your clit into the clutch of his mouth. Prompting that heady warmth to drizzle up on top of itself within the base of your abdomen. 
He alternates between that for a few moments, completely unhurried as he switches between lapping at your slit and sucking at your engorged bundles of nerves. And then his tongue is slipping inside of you, working along the walls of your cunt in a way that has your eyes rolling and your back bowing in a taut seize. But it does not stop. Extending into an inhuman length. It is thick and textured near its base, working so deep inside that you have to cry out. The repetitive drag and pull of it ushering you to roll your hips to match its delicious rhythm, building up a rising tide, dangling you over the precipice of something debilitating. 
"Oh gods - I - " 
But he is jerking away from you leaving your cunt to squeeze around the absence of his tongue, biting into the meat of your thigh like he has to preoccupy himself or else he will bury his face back into your heat like you so desperately want him to. You clumsily prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him and the intensity of his gaze would have been intimidating if you were not in your current position. 
"Why did you stop?!" 
"When you come in will be with my name on your lips, " and something possessive layers the rich rumble of his tone. It is heavy and bears no room for argument, but you have no wish to do so. "Say it." 
"My Lor- " But his pointed glare is enough to cut you off, but you find yourself yelping from the reprimanding nip at your sensitive skin. It did not hurt but it took you by surprise regardless. 
"My name." He repeats carefully, and laves his tongue over the dull sting to soothe it, all without breaking eye contact, keeping you within the scope of his watch. And it takes you a moment to sift through his abundance of monikers and titles, trying to think past the sensation of his teeth and lips on you, but you finally manage to settle the same one that the Priestesses would often whisper with reverence. 
"Morpheus. " 
A pleased hum greats you and then blessedly he is spreading you open with his thumbs to subject you to the calculated, blissful lashing of his tongue. And you allow yourself to fall back onto the ground in a boneless heap, easily falling back underneath the sway of that fuzzy Elysian pleasure. Unrestrained moans now freely spilling from you, but you cannot find it in yourself to be the least bit embarrassed by the way you openly keen and whine in bliss. You head tips as you toss in reckless abandon, staring up almost sightlessly at the star cluttered sky. And in your drunken haze your mind oddly remarks that the twinkling stars remind you of peering eyes. But before the thought can take flight a strange sensation is enveloping you, like the brush of water rushing over you. Rolling textured waves, feathered touches and the brush of fingers. 
Hands, a distant thought supplies weakly. It does feel like hands. Thousands of them all scattered about your body. Running over your hips, your stomach, your chest, your throat. And then it feels as though a pair of mouths are taking your breasts into them, and you just barely manage to jerk your head up to confirm that Morpheus is still nestled between your thighs, slurping at your messy cunt even while those phantom hands and mouths stroke over your body, sucking at your nipples in a way that has a gutted moan tearing out of you. 
He is watching you from his place between your legs and the gleam of his eyes are nothing short of smug, taking absolute pride in the way that he is unraveling you at the seams. 
Your body moves as though it is possessed. Writhing like it can't decide which sensation it wants to arch into; the ghostly grasp of a thousand hands or the needy, warmth of his mouth. 
And the squelch of his tongue is sinful, noisily plunging into you. Its passage completely frictionless with the combination of his saliva and the way your cunt drips around the intrusion. He takes the meat of your ass into his physical hands, guiding the jerky rock of your hips into something deeper while he drinks you down, swallowing the obscene slick of your coupling down his throat. And you are babbling now, unable to recognize or understand the scattered way that you beg and cry. Lost to drift in the ceaseless ecstasy, a willing prisoner forced to take it. It feels as though your mind is breaking around the edges, fraying from the sheer scope of your pleasure, leaving you a weightless passenger, no longer held within the restraints of your own body. You soul is alight, burning and drowning in a rapture so sweet that you have no choice but to sob from it all. 
"Morpheus - " You choke around the raged heaving of your chest. And the hands on your body are joined by the phantom lapping of tongues, invisible teeth nipping at your skin and the mouths on your breasts pull and tweak at your nipples. The pleasure is too much, too great for you to fully comprehend and that wave is climbing once again, hurtling you towards that cliff. And now you are begging - pleading that he does not stop and leave you wanting. His name falls freely from you now, and endless mantra pleading for him to guide you into the sweep of fire and bliss. 
You barely feel it approaching. Suddenly your body is tensing, going rigid underneath the curl of his tongue and your thighs clamp around his head while you sob through the convulsions wracking through you. Completely swept up in a tide of heat and electricity. But he has not pulled away from your cunt, still nuzzled between the clutch of your thighs while he drinks your come with a satisfied sigh. The vibrations of it combined with the idle way that he continues to lap at you despite the sensitivity and it has your muscles twitching in response. 
"Morpheus, please. " You gasp underneath him, and he finally pulls back from you, albeit reluctantly before he is crawling over you, leaving gentle pecks across your body as he moves. And you can still feel those phantom touches across you, but they are feather light now, melting into the background as his lips meet yours in a hungry kiss. It has you moaning into his mouth, and even with your recent orgasm you can already feel a syrupy heat building up within you coaxing the gentle rock of your hips. You can taste yourself on his lips, earthy and somewhat sweet. The weight of his arousal presses against you from underneath his robes, heavy and hot and the Dreaming thrums with his want, the soil trembling beneath you both. 
You reach a hand down to paw at him through the dark fabric of his chlamys and the smoky, ragged groan that escapes him is a reward all in its own. And you were right. The sound of his breathless, rumbling satisfaction is something that you will never tire of hearing, and you are already desperate to drag more from him. But what truly has your attention is the length of him. You are unable to see it from the cover of his robes, but you can feel it, the thickness of it, the length. And you drag your thumb around its head, the cloth clinging to the shape of his cock from the precum leaking from the tip. He jerks in your hand, breaking your kiss to duck his face into the crook of your neck, sucking at the skin, prompting you to moan breathlessly. 
"I need you inside of me. " You whisper unsteadily. 
"Take what you need. " Comes his response as he mouths along your neck, taking your ear lobe into his mouth and pulling it between his teeth. Just as yours had, his robes vanish from his body, baring himself for you admire. And admire you do. Gazing upon the milky hue of his skin. The lithe muscle that ripple and flex and the added detail of blue vessels spidering underneath his flesh. Your eyes drop lower, settling on his cock, and the tip has flushed red from his arousal, and you briefly entertain the idea of taking him into your mouth, tasting him on your tongue as he had done to you. But the throbbing heat that has settled between your thighs is the only thing that keeps you from doing so. You need finally feel him and so you are gently pushing at his chest, guiding him to remove his head from your neck and to lie on his back. And he allows you to so - a god obeying your wishes. 
His gaze does not stray from you, even as he settles against the ground and allows you to climb astride his lap. Now that you are here atop him you find yourself wavering under the intimidation of your self-imposed task. It is a stupid thing to be fearful of. You have done this before. But those was a man, not an immortal deity that has seen centuries come and go, watched curiously as humanity's ancestors evolved and give way to empires the ultimately rose and fell. You are sure that he has lain with deities beyond your comprehension. Gods and goddesses, nymphs and spirits, pure divine beings from the heavens. How could you compare? How could you possibly please him? Would he want you even as a tainted woman? 
And as though he can sense your discomfort, he sweeps his hands along your hips, the action breaking through your internal struggle, and he is once sitting himself up enough to plant a kiss between the valley of your breasts. And then he is guiding you to look down on him with the gentle brush of his fingers, fixing your attention solely on him. 
"Take what you need. " He reiterates. But it is not said in a scathing or annoyed way, it is gentle, loving you want to believe, and you nearly melt against him. Those ghostly touches are back, no doubt an attempt to draw you out of your head. And it is working to stoke the fire, the fervor returning to your bones, but your mind still struggles to return you, still tangled within the confines of your insecurities. You could not manage to pin them down no matter how hard you tried to. 
"Speak to me, " he murmurs against your skin. "What troubles you?" 
"I - " you choke around the shakiness in your chest. You want to speak but it is difficult to do so around the rock in your throat, the disconnect between your head and your tongue stalling the words before they can even truly form. He begins to circle his thumbs against your hips. It is no longer sexual but completely tender, meant to coax your feelings from you rather than your desire and it does serve to ground you somewhat, offering you some clarity to articulate yourself. " I - you do know that I'm not . . . " You trail off and you attempt to meet his curious gaze, but you find your own quickly darting away, scanning the kaleidoscope fields that surrounds you like it might help you find your courage.  " . . . What if I'm not good enough?" 
His expression becomes stormy.  Something menacing and severe and it is a stark reminder of the darker side of his nature. He had been so gentle and giving with you that it had been easy to forget the depths of his anger, and for a moment you had feared that you somehow managed to offend him personally. His lips have pursed in that cross way, his eyebrows pinched, and you would have anticipated him molding himself into wicked shadows and talons, if not for the flash of something soft showing through the cosmic blue of his eyes. 
"Have I not worshiped you thoroughly enough?" He asks, but he does not necessarily sound affronted out of concern of his own pride but rather disappointed that he did not please you. The mere notion of that could make you scoff; you were certain that he ruined you for anyone else. No man would be able to touch you in the way that he had. And now you were opening your mouth to reassure him, but he is responding before you can utter a single word. " Then allow me to rectify my transgressions." 
And you whole heartedly expect him to once again knock you on your back and take you, but he does not. He keeps you secured on his lap, grip firm but not controlling and fixes you with a stare that seems to hold you open and reach inside, melting at your frayed vulnerabilities. "Now. Take what you need."  His voice has dipped into something deep and orotund, clearly enunciating to make sure that his intent is clearly broadcasted. And the intensity that he projects is enough to pull you back into the moment, his power coursing over the Dreaming and rippling at its seams. But it is more than that too. He has been nothing but gentle with you this entire night. Patient. Without judgement. And it is as though he has been plucking you apart piece by broken piece, stuffing you full of sunlight and helping you mend your shattered edges. Not fixed or magically repaired, but it is the closest you have felt to peace and adoration in a long time. And you feel like you are choking on the affection that he openly displays. The want and the need. 
You become startlingly aware of the way that your cunt drips, come smearing the insides of your thighs while that warm honeyed ache steadily thrums within your abdomen. And it is difficult to ignore it now. The sheer scope of your desire could smother you, threatening to take you under and drown you. Everything else after that is instinctual -needy. You take his face in your hands, smashing your lips to his in a bruising kiss trying your best to project your emotions into the exchange of tongue and teeth, stroking the sharp edges of his cheek bones with the same reverence that he had shown you. And you blindly reach down to take the rigid heat of him in your grip, throbbing and wet with a steady flow of precum, and he rewards you with a heady groan when you circle your thumb around the leaking slit of his cock. 
You are quick to line him up with your entrance, and without little fanfare sink down onto him. The relief that comes with the fulness of his girth tears ragged sighs from the both of you.  And you give yourself little time to adjust before your already working yourself down his length, toes curling when the blunt head of his cock brushes against that devastating spot inside of you that has you jerking from him to gasp into the night. And unable to ignore the all-consuming passion that takes you over, the pulsing, electrifying power that permeates around Morpheus you draw yourself up with the strength of your thighs, using the push you can achieve from planting your feet on the ground to bounce on his cock in a hedonistic display. 
It is debased and vulgar, fucking out in an open field, in the soil like animals. Completely lewd, but so right. 
Morpheus lies back against the ground on his own accord, reclining like spoiled royalty and allowing you to plant your hands on his chest to assist you to deepen each thrust, letting you take from him. And already his name is spilling from your lips like a hymn while you watch the Dream King with rapt attention, enthralled by every minute expression that flickers across his schooled features. The way that his eyebrows pinch together, how dim but eager pants puff past his open mouth, the dazed sort of pleasure that shows in his eyes while he gazes upon you like you're a deity that has descended down from Mount Olympus, a nymph fashioned from Aphrodite herself to encapsulate his every wish. 
And those delicious, invisible hands have returned to roam about your body in their sweet exploration, plucking at your body like it is an instrument that they have played for years. The sound of your coupling rings across the Dreaming, the smack skin against skin, your unrestrained moans. It all has that thick, deep-rooted ache spreading further throughout your body, reaching from your core and all the way to your fingertips and toes. But there is something missing, a nudge needed to push you over the edge. "Morpheus, " you cry weakly, thighs already beginning to sting from exertion, but you refuse to stop, continuing to drop yourself on his cock, working tight circles with your hips with each descent. 
You can see something smug bleeding into his features, your neediness nurturing his hubris, and his lips quirk in just the faintest hints of a barely there smile. 
"What is it, my love?" He asks, feigning ignorance and it irritates you how put together he sounds, voice having dropped into a low, rumbling cadence, but apart from that he sounds seemingly unaffected despite the glazed over quality to his gaze. You whimper around a particularly harsh thrust from him that has your back bowing, pushing your breasts into the palms of ghostly hands. Your eyes nearly go cross at the drag of his cock, but you manage to keep your concentration around the sweeping torrents of smoke and ecstasy. 
"Please!" you keen drunkenly. "Please, I need you! " 
A satisfied purr resonates underneath your palms and his pupils flash in that pale tantalizing, dangerous way and you cannot believe that the look of it had frightened you at some point. Now it only serves to pool more liquid heat down the base of your spine. A heaving mewl is all but punched out of you when he takes you by surprise, using his place along the ground to thrust up into you with wicked rolls from his hips. Fucking up into you with a ferocity that has you struggling to meet his pace, and you are hardly more than a passenger at this point. All coherence is stripped from you and your entire body feels like it has been doused in honey and fire, and the timbre of his raspy voice speaking out only serves to nudge you closer to your undoing. 
"You'll stay here with me, won't you?" 
"Yes!" You agreed in a slurred whine. 
"And you'll give yourself to me?"
"Yes!" You are near sobbing now, body jerking and writhing atop him while the phantom touches roll your nipples between soft fingertips, and his cock pumps into you with depraved, filthy squelches of your combined arousal. And that primordial energy is pulsating around the Dreaming. The same power that creates the ground you both lay upon, that fashions the field and the sky above you too, permeating from the deity that is currently fucking every shred of a possible thought from your brain. And the power feels charged now, like it is growing and expanding into something great, seeping into your skin and soaking your bones. Then a transparent grip is taking your jaw between its fingers, directing your gaze to the god underneath you, and another slips down your stomach, reaching down to drag tight circles around your neglected clit. 
"Then come." It is a command that your body cannot ignore, seizing up tight, trapping the strangled wail deep inside your lungs while your mouth hangs open in a silent scream. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull, stars exploding against the darkness there and you lose all sense of tangibility.  Your sense of time, place and self slip from perception like water pouring through spread fingers, and now you are just floating. Caught in bursting cosmos, pinned before the scalding light of the sun, caught in a torrent of arresting, unyielding rapture. And your cunt clamps down his cock like it means to milk him for all he is worth, your orgasm ushering him into his own and thankfully your coherence begins to return to you in time for you to admire him while he is subjected to the throes of his pleasure. And you are still gasping and moaning while his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated, observing as his eyelashes flutter and his mouth opens for a long husky moan to escape him as the warmth of his release pools inside of you. 
You all but collapse on top of him in a boneless heap and your cunt spasming weakly around his spent length but neither of you make any effort to move. Simply basking in the afterglow of your highs. It is your sense of touch and hearing that serve to orient you. The distant crash of waves rushing over the surf, the whisper of the breeze dancing across the grass and blossoms. And you can feel him underneath you. His chest is moving with a breath that you are certain is simulated for your own comfort, an attempt to appear more human. But he feels too heated and simultaneously too cold to be a person, like he has no idea which temperature to project. But you decide that it is not at all unpleasant, instead it feels good against your feverish skin. 
But you still wait for the sting of disappointment to strike you - for disgust to bleed and taint the satisfaction now that the lust has died, but it never rises to meet you. And so, you rest, satiated upon your god. Pliant like melted wax. But there is the insistent nudge of something burrowing at you. Concern, you quickly identify. And it has your sluggish mind wandering back to the root of the thought, trailing after it until it finds the conclusion which takes that shape of a memory. The memory of perhaps the only companion you have ever known, and it is bitter and sour reminder that they may not even be alive anymore. That centuries may have passed during your brief stay in the Dreaming, and that they may have succumbed to the passage of time. 
"What ails you now?" 
You want to say that it is nothing, sweep it aside and ignore it while it festers and grows. But you know now that he will not accept nothing as an answer, not when he can possibly feel your distress across the threads of the Dreaming. You feel foolish in your answer, but it is the only one that you can manage. " My cat. " 
"Your . . . cat. " He echoes slowly, and you are certain that amusement is lacing his tone. You bristle a bit preparing to defend yourself, your right for being worried, but he is nudging you from his chest so that you may see each other as you speak. 
"I can assure you that your companion is safe. He's quite content." He says. His gentle mirth still very much alive, but you do not return his light-hearted attitude, waiting with bated breath for him to answer the question that hangs heavy in the air. And a part of you fears that he may have somehow managed to converse with Death of the Endless, or that he was still connected to the passage of time that operates outside of the Dreaming and was able to deduce that the feline had long since passed, joining Teleute in the Sunless Lands. But then he is brushing a hand along his side, drawing your attention to his ribs where the skin there ripples like the surface of a disturbed lake, and a set of angry jagged scars emerge from the mirage, appearing across his pale skin, spanning from his armpit down to the notch of his hipbone. It is hauntingly familiar. The placement, the number of claw mark left in stretched healed tissue. One, two, three . . . four, you count. 
You understand what it is that he is implying. And betrayal sinks its enamel into your heart, but the bite is shockingly dull and not the unforgiving split that you were expecting. And you can tell that he is calculating something, surely waiting for you to lash out. To scream at him and demand that he take you home. Perhaps that is what you should do. But you do not. "How? Why did you- a cat?" Is all you manage, more perplexed than irate. 
"I had been injured by an old foe of mine, " he explains, allowing you to curl into his side, curiously running your fingertips over the marred flesh. And you have suppress a shudder, wondering what sort of being could be strong enough to injure an Endless. A god. "As for why I assumed that particular form, I needed to conserve energy. It was small. Familiar. It served to save much needed strength. " 
There has always been something strange about that cat and his watchful stare. Admittedly you had always swallowed down the suspicion that prickled at you whenever he had curled up within your house, but you had been too desperate for some sort of friendship to truly question anything. The barrage of emotions flooding you, making you a muddled unsure mess, but one thing that you do know for certain is that you are completely and undeniably relieved. And truthfully you are still far too tired, simply uncaring to have been tricked by the god. You are happy- actually well and truly happy to embrace the joy and serenity. 
"And then there was you, " he murmurs in your ear, devout and soft. 
The both of you remain there for an insurmountable length of time. Lounging in each other's embrace, delighting in your shared presence. Listening to the peaceful noise of the Dreaming and the warmth of your lover. And for the first time that icy gapping pit of loneliness no longer gnaws and tears at you. You finally feel at home, and the desire to flee and leave eludes you. Perhaps because you have finally found a place to belong.  
Here with him. 
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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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Text
tipsy. ~ morpheus x fem!reader
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Summary: Morpheus takes care of you after you get drunk with Destiny and Death. II fluff
Words: 531 Warnings: mentions of alcohol use Pairing: Morpheus x female!Reader
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„And then I said to him – whoops!” The chair on which you currently stand to dramatically tell your story suddenly … tips. You fall, arms flailing, drink crashing to the ground but instead of following the glass, you land right in the arms of a certain more or less annoyed Dream Lord.
“Oops, didn’t see you there”, you giggle as you look up to him. In the background, Desire and Death are laughing.
“Hmm, I figured”, Morpheus says and you could swear that he sounds a bit amused. But maybe that’s the alcohol talking.
“You got her drunk?”, he asks, voice much colder now as he addresses his siblings. “Whose idea was that? Desire?”
“Don’t blame me!” Desire lifts up both of their hands, a wide grin on their face. “It was her idea!”
“That’s true, Dream”, you come to their help but he ignores you.
“I expected better from you, Death.”
“Ah, come on, don’t be such a buzzkill, brother,” Death exclaims, rolling her eyes. “It’s all in good fun.”
“See,” you repeat, giggling again. “All in good fun.”
Desire snorts, Death grins, Dream sighs.
“Let’s get you to bed then,” he mumbles and lifts you up, full-on bridal style. A second later, your surroundings have changed and you’re in his personal chambers.
“Technically, I am already sleep, aren’t I?”, you wonder as he carries you to his bed.
“Still, you need rest. Alcohol in the Dreaming can affect you just as much.” He lets you down carefully. The sheets feel nice and cool against your heated skin. Morpheus sits down next to you and reaches for the covers. You however have different plans – you sit up, the world spins, and reach for him. You actually manage to grab him by surprise and as you press his mouth to his, you feel him smile against you. He breaks the kiss quickly, holding your hands tightly by the wrists.
“We will do no such thing.”
“Why not?”, you whine.
“Because, my love, you are very, very drunk.” Slowly he pushes you down to lay down again.
“So?” You pout. “I want you. Sober or not sober.”
Dream chuckles. You love it when he does that. “Then surely you can wait until you are actually sober.”
“You’re being mean.”
“I am not. You’re being whiny.”
“Pff.” Suddenly your eyes begin to feel heavy. You hardly even notice that Dream begins to pull off your shoes.
“Besides, you stink of alcohol”, he continues. “What did they give you?”
“Did you just tell me I stink?” Slightly offended, you open an eye.
Dream nods, dead serious. “I did.”
“And here I thought you loved me.” You sigh dramatically. The blanket feels heavy on your shoulders and you already feel yourself drifting. “It was fun though”, you mumble into the pillow. “Your siblings are nice.”
“Mhh”, he murmurs. The mattress dips and he pulls you into his arms.
You nuzzle your head against his chest. “I loved hanging out with them.”
“And I love you.”
The smile appears naturally on your face. “I love you too.” You yawn. “If you change your mind about … you know. Let me know.”
His body vibrates as he laughs. “Rest now, my Queen.”
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thank you for reading! masterlist
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morpheusbaby3 · 1 year
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Morpheus telling Lucienne about the problems he has been through:
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starkleila · 5 months
Text
Memory frees Dream
(Wife!Reader, 1x01 rewrite)
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Summary: you Memory, free Dream from his cage . (Wife!Reader, 1x01 rewrite)
Warnings: normal sandman action
Notes:
Sorry for the grammatical errors. I’m new at writing so feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading. do not translate or appropriate my work
Comments and kudos are highly appreciated :)
words: 1800
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You were Memory.
The Realm of Memory was your home. Shaped by memories of all beings who ever lived. The castle was made of your memories but since thousands of years ago it was made of just memories of Morpheus, your husband.
Memory and dream had similar powers that is why you and Dream got so well along. Dreams were usually mostly made of memories, and people who remembered dreamed about reliving those memories.
You could touch someone and see all their past memories. You were old as death. As long there has been death someone remembered a dead one.
1916
You were in bed with Morpheus in your castle. Your head rested on the crock of his neck. His chin was resting on top of your head eyes closed, his hand intertwined with yours above his heart.
‘How long will you be gone?’ You asked with a sad tone.
Morpheus opened his eyes and kissed the top of your head ‘a day or two. I need to find the rogue nightmare and bring him home’
‘Can I come with you?’ You asked tilting your head towards him to look in his piercing blue eyes. Morpheus was not of many words, but his eyes were full of love when he looked at you.
‘I’m afraid this is a duty of the lord of dreams. The lady of memories should not be weighted with duties outside of her realm’ he replies caressing your skin with his fingertips
You sigh. ‘Should I wait for you in the Dreaming?’ You ask
‘No my love. You have enough work here. I will come to you as soon as I take care of Corinthian’
You hummed
Dream gently tilted your head towards him and kissed you. You placed your hand on his face and kept him close. You both savored the moment, not knowing it would be the last for a long time.
After the kiss ended you both closed your eyes, forehead touching. ‘I must go’ he replied.
You let him get up and remain in the bed as he takes from the floor the clothes he had discarded there in your fits of passion. You watched him getting dressed and when he was done you got up hugging him from the back and feeling his torso under his coat.
‘Be careful’ you tell him as he leans back into you.
‘I will’ he replies ‘I’ll see you on the second day’ he says, turning and taking your hand he kisses it. You share a last kiss before he disappears in the realm of the wake.
The first two days you carry out your usual tasks and duties as queen of the realm of memory. As the second night approaches you wait for dream in your throne room. But he never comes.
‘It must have took him more time’ you think. But days becomes weeks. And that is when you start to worry. You travel to the dreaming. As you and Morpheus were married you two had not the rule of having to be invited to another’s real. You had unlimited free entry in each other’s realms.
‘Morpheus?’ you ask entering the throne room to find it empty
‘My lady’ you hear Lucienne’s voice behind you, you turn ‘Lucienne. Have you seen my husband?’ you ask her, she is in shock ‘I thought he was with you. We have not seen him since he left to visit you in your realm moons ago’
‘I have not seen him since he went to take care of that rogue nightmare’ you reply as worry consumes you. ‘I must go find him’ you add as Lucienne calls your name but you had already disappeared in the word of the waken, in Berlin, where Morpheus was last saw.
 You touch every person in berlin to see if in their memories they had seen your husband, but it had been useless. After weeks of searching you must go back to your realm briefly to run it before resuming your search. Until Jessaiah one day comes.
Your’s husband loyal crow lands in front of you in your realm ‘My lady’ he says . you turn, familiar with the creature you motion for him to come over your throne
‘Jessaiah where is my husband?’
‘He has been captured by a mortal my lady. He is kept in a glass of prisons, runes all around it preventing his escape’
You gasp at the news, you knew he would never abandon you willingly.
‘Why did you not come before? I could have freed him, or at least tried’ you say with anger
‘My lord was afraid they could harm you or take you too and hoped he could free himself. But has been months, I had to do something’ the crow replies, you sigh
‘bring me to him’.
-.-.-.
You reach London and Rodrick Burgess’s estate.
‘Be careful my lady. These people know who he is. And with the power of his devices they are now rich and lucky and know magic.’ Jessaiah explains to you
‘I must be smart then. You wait here’
You ring the bell and a butler opens the door for you ‘Who are you?’ You look at him in the eyes your powers doing the magic as you create in his minds false memories of you. As if he had known you all his life as if you were a usual guest of the house. And thanks to that you enter the house and are brought to Rodrick Burgess. You apply the same magic to him
‘My lady! Has been such a long time since you last came visiting my estate’ Rodrick tells you as if you are the most extinguished guest as he kisses your hand as if you were royalty, which in a way you are
‘Thank you Rodrick. I came because I too want to see the famous creature you keep in your basement’
‘Of course. Tell me how is his Majesty?’ he asks you, you had implanted in his memories that you were a relative of the King. You two talk about events that in reality never happened as he brings you to Morpheus
‘Rodrick I must ask you a favor. Could you tell your men to leave? His Majesty is not keen of my interest in these matters and prefer it to not be known apart from very trustable men of the crown like you’ you say aiding his ego
‘Of course!’ he enters and tell his men to leave ‘Is just us now and the creature of course’ he says opening the door for you
‘Here he is my lady. Dream of the Endless’ rodirck explains to you. Your heart breaks at the sight of your husband. Bare and vulnerable instead of bare and majestic as you used to see him. In a cage of glass without his instruments. Dream raises his eyes and sees you. Hiding his shock and anger to Jessiaha for having brought you here without his consent. He wants to be free but not if it puts you in danger
‘Rodrick this is very impressive. And tell me what these things on the ground are?’ you ask faking to not know of the runes
‘Those are runes my lady. Be careful do not get close, if they break he can kill you’ he says
‘thank you for your help rodrick’ you say as touch his hand and he smiles ‘but I’m afraid you are of no longer of use’ you say your eyes darkening. He wants to move away his hand but you grip it hard ‘you will relieve your worst memories now’ you say as his eyes go blank as he relieves the news of his son’s death and the moment his wife dies. Rodrick falls on the ground crying
‘Husband’ you say turning to Morpheus with relief in your eyes
‘My love. Its dangerous you should have not come’ he says even if he is full of relief.
‘and leaving you here? Never’ you say as you destroy the ruins and enter the circle. You place your hand and forehead on the cage as he does the same ‘I was so worried. You never came back’ you say as he looks at you in pain and love ‘leaving you pained me as well my dear’
‘stand back I need to free you’ you explain as he reaches the center of the glass cage and shield his face as you touch the cage with both hands, channeling all the pain from the worst memories of humanity. The pain channeled through you makes the cage shake as you let out a scream feeling it yourself the cage shatters, and you fall on your knees breathing heavily.
Morpheus bends down and touches your face lovingly ‘thank you my dear’ he says ‘I know how much that costed you’ he says helping you get up ‘not as much not knowing where you were Morpheus’ you reply. He kisses you then and hugs you. The moment is too short yet.
‘we need to go’ he says ‘ we can’t teleport from here there is magic. We must exit the house’ you explain
‘and what of him?’ Morpheus asks pointing at Rodrick 
‘I want to make him suffer Morpheus for what he did to you. I trapped him in his worst memories’ you explain looking at the man with disdain
‘what did I do to deserve you?’ dream asks looking at you with fondness ‘you gave memories a reason to remember them, to dream’ you explain as you take his hand. He kisses your palm as you two leave an agonizing rodrick and exit the house being careful to not be seen. When rodrick’s men notice your absence you are already gone back in the land of the dreaming.
In the following weeks You help Dreams find his instruments as you can touch a person and see all their memories you track them easily side by side with Morpheus. Once he gets them back he restores the dreaming which had just started decaying after a year of his absent. Then together you imprison the Corinthian. While morpheus takes care of his tasks of restoring the dreaming you wait for him in the word of memories. You know that he must first do what he must before being able to make up for the time you both lost.
You are in your palace in the garden as you relieve a memory of s century before. You and Morpheus lying on the grass in a field in the English countryside under the sun. as he tells you of his latest encounter with Hob Gadlin. The memory Morpheus kisses the memory you when you hear your Morpheus calling you
‘my love’ he says and you turn seeing him there ‘I have returned’ he says smiling. You run to him hugging him and kissing him ruffling his hair that he had stopped combing thousands of years before as you always touched them and messed them up anyhow.
‘while you were gone I dreamt of you’ you say after the kiss, heads a few inches from each others
‘I’m here now. we can make new memories’ he replies as he transports you both to the dreaming.
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dearly-dreaming · 2 years
Text
•𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆•
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Title: To worship a king.
Pairing: Dream of the Endless x fem!dream!reader.
Word count: 8003.
Warnings: Smut(18+ only - minors don’t interact) Oral (Male and fem receiving) unprotected sex(Remember to be safe!) Hair pulling, mentions of throat fucking, a little bit of angst and fluff.
Summary: You were Morpheus’ greatest creation and then you strayed from your purpose. You’re separated for a century and suddenly anger makes way for something else.
Author’s note: My first smut!!! Please tell me what you all think and if I should do more! I hope you enjoy and remember the gif isn’t mine!!!
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•𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐀 𝐊��𝐍𝐆•
18+ Only. Minors do not interact!
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You were lustful, Morpheus had made you that way.
He made you for the dreamers that dreamt of fantasies so intimate or seemingly impossible that they could only live them within their sleep. He made you to be passionate, sensual and intense. He made you with the ability to see one's wants and pleasures.
You were lustful and you were content with that knowledge. You enjoyed travelling through dreams and partaking in the pleasure humans felt so strongly, you enjoyed the euphoria and ecstasy of sex.
In the beginning, anyway.
You adored being able to pick up only any wants and desires, you relished in your experience and you prided yourself in the way you would leave dreamers gasping and missing some foreign touch when they woke.
But you soon realised lust and love were two sides of the same coin.
Especially when you discovered you were in love with your creator, your king, Morpheus.
It was a slow process. You doubted you would have figured it out if you hadn't watched those who dreamed of love, an entirely different intimacy than you were used to. You saw their dreams of lovers and crushes and with sly words from a certain golden-eyed being, you realised you acted much the same.
You always longed to be beside your king, to impress him and have him look at you with those proud eyes. You wanted him to tell you things only you knew. You wanted to know his mind and body in a way no one else did. You wanted him to love in a way no one else did.
Though, of course, you knew your feelings were foolish. Unrequited was the word.
You were just his creation, after all.
So you silently stood by as your king took other lovers, Nada and Calliope for example, and you stood by his side as all of those relationships ended in tragedy. You never said a word, hiding away your jealousy so deep that he could never sense it.
It went that way for centuries, millennia, aeons.
You thought your feelings would crumble, how terribly wrong you were.
They only grew and grew and your longed and longed. You just wanted him to look at you, stare into your soul and make his home there. You just wanted to be loved the way that mortals were loved.
Was that so much to ask?"
At some point, it had begun to get too much and you took to avoiding your master whenever you could, biting your tongue when you were forced to be beside him.
You just wanted affection.
The type mortals had when they danced under the stars and kissed on their wedding days. You wanted to be loved unconditionally, to have someone stand by your side just as you had done with Morpheus all this time.
And with some words from another one of Dream's proudest creations - The Corinthian- who also wanted to experience humanity. You decided you would.
You needed to.
You would break if you didn't.
It had worked for the first six months. You had met a charming human by the name of James Calton and you were taken by him in an instant. He was kind and thoughtful and pushed Morpheus to the very back of your mind.
It was wonderful, he treated you like a queen, kissed you tenderly, and always wrapped an arm around you when you laid in bed together, bare and peaceful.
You were in bliss.
And then it all came crashing down.
You had been skilful in your secrecy, telling your king you were needed by some other dreamfolk but never specifying who. You made sure to run errands and do chores to make it seem truthful, deepening the lie.
Then one fateful day, Morpheus had decided to change his schedule -something you always worked around - and went to library, where you said you were working. He couldn't find you, so naturally he asked Lucienne and she said you weren't there. He went to find you.
You had been seeing James off to work.
"I'll see you later, dear," You smiled sweetly, the ribbon he had tried in your hair whipping in the wind.
"Aren't you forgetting something?"James grinned softly, patting his lips.
You laughed, blissfully unaware as you pressed your lips to his, relishing in contentment. This is what love was.
"Goodbye, my love," He hummed gently, slipping into his car and driving off.
Then, you turned.
And your heart stopped.
Morpheus was standing a little ways behind you, face darker than you'd ever seen it. He was furious, enraged, it burned in his eyes, searing. He took a step closer and you knew your punishment was imminent.
You ran.
You knew it would only make him angrier but you were terrified, you didn't want to die. You didn't want to be banished into the darkness, or thrown into hell like Nada.
The shadows distorted.
You sprinted as fast as you could, heart thundering, chest heaving.
You darted around a corner but he was already waiting for you.
A cry was wretched from your lips.
A flurry of sand surrounded you like chains, tethering you to your excution. You knew he was taking you back to the Dreaming. You would never see James again.
It was worth it, you couldn't help but think, at least you knew what love felt like.
When the cutting sand cleared you were in the throne room. Morpheus stood before the steps leading to his throne, eyes glitning, demanding you got your knees and begged for mercy.
You clenched your hands as his pericing glare snatched onto your skin, burning. You tightened your jaw, you would not speak first, you refused.
You didn't need to.
Morpheus glared at you, voice harmfully sharp, "Prancing around with humans?"
You flinched at his condescending lily, waiting for him to continue.
He did, "Why?" His voice was brutal and you remained silent, "Answer me."
You could not resist his imposing command, "I..."
He glared, stepping closer, "You what?"
You shuddered, taking a deep breath as you forced yourself to meet his eyes, "I wanted to know what love was like."
His nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed into slits, darkening monsterously. He spoke slowly, danger rippling in his voice, "Love? You wanted to know what love was like? You are a creature of lust and lust only."
It was your turn to glare, "Why can't I be more!? Why can't I be allowed to love and want affection!? To wake up to someone every day!? To spend the rest of my life with someone who shippers to my soul!? Why am I not allowed to be something more than lust!?"
You were screaming now, breath ragged as you stepped forward, almost chest to chest with Dream, finger pointed, glower painted across your face.
You had already dug your grave, why not make it deeper?
"Come on, Dream King, answer me that," You hissed, barely realising how close you were.
Morpheus glowered down at you, words coming out as a snarl, "Remember your place."
"My place!?" You barked a rueful laugh, "My place has been beside you since the beginning! I was created before this realm! I have been with you through it all, not only have I doubted you or left your side, entirely loyal! And you want me to remember my place!?"
Tears were beginning to spring to your eyes.
Remember your place.
No, you refused to accept that, "I have stood next to you through all of your desicions and you will not allow me the joy of love!?"
"How dare you?" He snarled, "The joy of love? You know nothing of love, y/n."
You huffed, "Oh, really, Dream King?"
You draped to step closer, chest flush against his, faces mere inches apart. His breath fanned your face, and god's, how you had imagined being this close to him.
He did say anything, rage flaring furiously.
Grabbing his hand, you pressed it to your chest, where your heat beat erratically. You were far too gone now, might as well finally tell the truth.
You breathed, chest heaving harshly, "You created me. I am as connected to you as you are me. Can you feel it? The way I burn for every part of you."
His eyes flickered down to your chest, fixated on where his hand was pressed against it, feeling the intensity of your emotions. The longing, the desire, the passion and the love.
He clenched his jaw, wrenching his hand away as he forced out the word, "No."
Few could understand the Dream King's emotions and you were one of them.
"Liar," You spit.
And then you did the stupidest thing you had ever done.
You kissed Dream of the Endless.
You yanked him down by his coat, pressing your lips to his. Passionate was an understatement. His lips were soft, tasting faintly of berries and you found yourself wondering what the rest of him tasted like.
If this was your last moment, you were glad you finally knew what it was like to kiss him.
You expected him to push you away and banish you into the darkness.
Instead, he gripped your jaw, pressing your lips closer to his. His pace was bruising, the intensity of his kiss was burning. It was delicious and you welcomed the heat without hesitation.
You pressed closer still, groaning into the kiss when his other hand came to clutch at your neck. It kept you in the position he wanted as he slotted his leg between yours, something hard pressing against you.
A gasp.
You felt him smirk against your lips as he jutted his leg again, smug bastard.
His kiss made you dizzy with desire, intoxicated you. Dream consumed you in everything that he was, his bruising passion, his relentless onslaught of hypnotic kisses, his teasing brutality as he bit your lip.
Shit, why had you waited so long to do this.
Finally, he seemed to realise what he was doing and halted. His eyes were wide, pupils blown as gasped for are. His grip on your jaw and neck didn't loosen, in fact, they tightened deliciously.
Your chest heaved in time with his.
The words slipped from your tounge, "Are you sure you don't feel it, Morpheus?"
His eyes ignited and you knew his earlier rage just flickered back to life.
Never challenge Dream of the Endless.
But you refused to let him have the last word, even if meant furthering his anger.
So, you snapped forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away.
There was a sway in your hips as you turned, sauntering toward the imposing doors, lips bruised and blushing. Smugness filled your veins as the king made no move to stop you, still in shock.
You relished in it. Someone had rendered Dream of the Endless silent for the first time. You grinned in pride.
Once you reache the doors you allowe dyour head to turn to look over your shoulders.
A smirk teased at your lips, words sharp and taunting, "No one else will be able to compare with me, Morpheus. No one."
And then you slipped away, leaving Morpheus wanting and arouses.
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No one wounded the Dream King's pride and got away with it.
You knew that all too well.
Merely having delayed your punishment, you relished in your last moments of freedom because you knew once Dream got back with The Corinthian he would end you with ease.
But he never came back.
He and Jessamy went silent. You could only faintly sense her but it was like she could not sense you at all, the ability to travel through realms somehow ripped away from her. There was nothing you could do, you didn't know where she was.
The Dream weakened without it's master, walls began to crumble and everyone began to wither, their creator no longer fueling them with his power. Soon it fell to Lucienne and you to command the Dreaming, as best you could.
Neither of you gave up, search parties were sent out. Saint's, you had even tried to find Death and ask for her help. Nothing worked. And ten years into it, you felt it.
Jessamy had died.
That was when most gave up, if one of Dream's most trusted companions was dead then he was far beyond any sort of reach.
Then, with no one to control them, the nightmares ran rampant.
Some had run to Delirum's realm, she did love dreams, after all. Others went to Asgard or the Fae realm. Lots fled to the Waking World and you went with them.
You were terrified they would be harmed, unknowing of humanity's violence and the other creatures that roamed. You helped them settle, protected them and taught them, you spent most of your time doing it.
Perhaps as a distraction, the Dreaming was falling to pieces and there was nothing you could do. The truth of that fact settled in the day you had gone to visit your dear friend and she ran into your arms, sniffling.
Her library was gone.
It remained that way for over a century. Then, one day, there was a title on a newspaper that made you freeze.
Sleeping beauty wakes up.
The King was back.
And most ran back to the Dreaming without hesitation. Yes, they had grown comfortable in the Waking World but they had to hide who they really were. The Dreaminf was home and the thought of home was wonderful.
One dream, Daphe, had said to come with them, that once Dream had heard of how you helped them and protected them he would spare you. You laughed and shook your head.
You were going to be punished for involving yourself with humans. You were going to stay here until the end, head held high and true to your desire for love.
You were going to die so why not go out with a bang?
Literally.
You spent almost every night this month at a different night club, taking different people home, sometimes multiple at once. You were being what Dream had made you to be, lustful. He could not blame you for following your sole purpose.
That led you to now.
The lights were bright against the dark shadows, the smell of sweat, alcohol and sex familiar to you as you danced in the crowd. You were having the time of your life, grinding against random men and women, kissing in dark corners and participating in body shots.
Then, you saw it.
A raven, watching you from the window, flying away when it knew you caught it.
Morpheus was close, then.
You sighed, and wormed your way out of the crowd, twisting around the bodies pressed together slowly. The cold night air struck your skin smoothly. You shivered slightly, perhaps it wasn't the best idea to wear a dress with a plunging v-line made from a flimsy fabric that barely covered the curve of your arse.
Too late now.
"Who are you, cause I know you're not Jessamy," Your voice was calm, light and uncaring, hiding the truth well.
The raven flew down, settling on the wall beside you awkwardly, not used to the wings, "I'm Matthew. How did you know I wasn't Jessamy."
You snorted, "Because she's dead," Then a fond smile slipped onto her face, "And because she wouldn't fly away when she'd been caught, she'd just stare you down, almost as intimidating as the king himself."
"I see," Matthew hummed, "You and she were close weren't you?"
Yes, you were.
Ignoring the burn in your eyes, you lifted your head to the twinkling sky, "He's coming for me, isn't he?"
He paused, "Yes..."
Your shoulders dropped, "Alright,"
And then you began to walk away.
"Hey! Where are you going!? If you run it'll just make it worse! The dreams don't want you to die! Not Merv or Gault or Lucienne or the brothers! They want you to live with them!" Matthew cried.
You laughed then, "It's not running when he already knows where I am. I just need to do something before I am punished."
The raven didn't respond but you felt his eyes on you as you called for a taxi, telling the driver the address to your luxurious flat.
When you finally got to said flat you almost flinched at the silence. You almost allowed yourself to break down into tears, everything you had done, learnt and lived for would be snatched away.
But you would not leave those you had come to leave wonder where you had gone.
Cathy would be the first, she always forgot to buy something at the shops and came knocking to see if you had it. Sam would be next, the cheeky bastard bored and asking you out for a good time. Amelia would be last. Oh, dear Amelia. She was your favourite, king and thoughtful but always ready to call you out on your bullshit.
Your hands shook as you wrote the letters someone would eventually find, pressing a kiss to each of them. You silently wished that they got everything and anything they wanted in life.
Then, your poured yourself a glass of wine and stared out the window, waiting.
And then, you felt it.
He was silent, pulling at your soul just like he always did as he appeared in your flat, presence as strong and dominating as you remembered it.
You swallowed harshly, this was it.
You forced yourself to turn.
The breath was knocked out of your throat at the sight of him.
Gods, you had forgotten just how glorious he looked.
Chizzled chin, alabaster skin that would look perfect covered in scratches and hickeys, silver eyes so deep you could see the universe in them. he was demanding as a king should be but you noticed a difference. He had changed somehow...well-hidden was the haunted look in his eyes, the tenseness of his body and the quiver of his soul.
Your heart lept in your chest, wanting nothing more than to comfort as you did so many aeons before. When no one could see him and he could allow himself to relax with one of his oldest creations. When he was willing to rest his head in the crook of your neck and reveal his true feelings.
You spoke first, more of a whisper, really, "Morpheus."
His name felt heavenly on your tongue.
"Y/n," He murmured in response, voice deep and raspy, it rumbled with thunder and the heaviness of stars.
The silence was imposing. You couldn't bare it.
"Are you...?" You couldn't get the question out, your lips wouldn't let you, "How is the Dreaming?"
How is the Dreaming? How is Lucienne? How are you?
You knew he caught onto the silent message in your words, he always did, "The Dreaming is well. As you know I was gone for a long time but I have returned, stronger than I have been in aeons."
Your heart hammered against your chest, "I suppose I won't be getting a quick punishment, then."
He stilled, staring at you.
Then his eyes shifted to the side.
You followed his gaze. He was staring at the pictures on the wall, honouring the two people you had loved most.
This was going to make him angry.
Oh well.
You sighed gently, "That woman was called Eliza, we had a good relationship in the eighties before she realised I didn't age. The man was called Charles, I nearly married him. but..."
"But what?" He questioned sharply.
"But he wasn't you," You told him simply.
You were not ashamed, you would never be.
You loved Dream of the Endless.
But many had loved Morpheus and none had ever survived the flame of his passion or the fires that came with wounding his heart.
He did not respond, as prideful as ever. Not even bothering to acknowledge your confession or what happened the last time you were together.
Your lips prickled at the thought, they missed his lips on theirs.
You scoffed, "Why are you asking me questions? Is this some kind of scare tactic, to get me scared before you punish me?" You hissed, "Just fucking kill me."
His eyes darkened at the thought.
This was it.
Then he said something that shocked you to your very core.
"You are frightened of me," His words confused you.
Then a hollow laugh escaped your lips, "Of course I am! I know what happens to those who defy you. I know the fate that awaits me!"
"No. You do not," He didn't yell but it felt like he did.
You froze. At first, you thought your min was consoling you before you end or that it had already come. But it hadn't and you weren't dead.
Morpheus stared at you from the other side of the room, goldy features glimmering in the moonlight as he studied you intently. A shiver ran down your spine at his predatory gaze, arousal whispering in the back of your mind.
Gods, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him until his mark was all that was left on your lips.
"You're not going to kill me?" You gasped, carefully.
He nodded, "No. I will not do anything to you."
An elated laugh escaped your mouth, almost hysterical. Soul reeling in surprise. You sipped the rest of your wine, a smirk on your face as you sashayed forward, "When I am going to celebrate by having sex with the biggest orgy I can find."
You passed Dream.
His hand latched onto your wrist, firm as he forced you to still.
His words almost came out as a growl, "No."
"Here we go," You muttered, you were definitely treading down the wrong path but Dream had made you impulsive and who were you if not his greatest creation?
He stared down at you, gaze so heated you felt it in your chest, "I will not have you pleasuring mortals."
You glowered, "I'm being lustful. One second you're angry at me for wanting something more and the next your angry at me for doing what I was made to."
Morpheus' grip on your wrist loosened, only to tighten again as he spoke, "I am not angry at you. But I will not have mortals indulging themselves in all that is you."
"Why? Because I am nothing but a dream?" You snapped.
His gaze was piercing, words even more so, "Because you are my dream and mine alone.
You stared at him, wide-eyed. All words dying on your tongue.
"We will return to the Dreaming, "He told you not acknowledging his words.
You narrowed your eyes and wretched your arm from his grasp furiously, "No."
"No?" He spat.
Over a century had gone by and he was still surprised by how insolent you were. And by how strongly he reacted when you grew closer to him, the fabric of your dress seeming so easily tearable.
"No," You spoke firmly, "You can't just say that and brush it off. I won't let you."
Dream was quick to make your suspicion seem foolish as he scoffed lightly, forcing an offended expression onto his face. He glowered down at you, "Dreams should not indulge themselves with mortals. Your implication is wrong. You're wrong."
You huffed, daring to take a step closer, feeling the heat of his body welcoming you, "Really? Because I think..." You smiled slyly, feline eyes glinting, "You want to repeat what happened in the throne room. You want to grab my chin, kiss me so hard you leave bruises as you put your leg between mine, pressing closer and closer..."
You knew you were right. Not even the Dream Lord himself was immune to your powers. You felt it rippling off of him, waves of desire and want flowing over you deliciously. You wanted more.
He remained silent, glaring down at you as his nostrils flared, dark eyes shimmering dangerously. His jaw was clenched and his body tense, holding himself back.
He was Dream of the Endless, he would not be bested by one of his creations.
You grinned slyly, "You do..."
He glowered, "I am your king..."
"And a king deserves to be worshipped, does he not?"
You dropped to your knees.
Morpheus' chest heaved as he watched you, making no move to stop you, daring you, challenging you.
Well, the challenge was accepted.
Slowly, you trailed your hands up his legs, sliding them toward the buckle of his belt, never moving your eyes from his own. You paused for a moment, letting him take in the sight of you, kneeling before him, hands grasping his belt.
You were letting him decide if he wanted this.
He made no move to stop you.
You smirked.
Your hands made quick work of his belt, skilful as they moved swiftly. You relished in the clink of the metal clasp as it fell to the floor beside you, a sharp noise in the tense silence. Easily, you pulled down his slacks, a sultry look glimmering in your eyes.
He shivered against the cold of your nails as you gently scratched up his bare legs, teasing around the band of his underwear, tight around his quickly hardening dick.
You saw the look in his eyes, silently demanding you stop your teasing.
You obliged without hesitation.
Hooking your fingers around the band of his underwear you pulled it down, finally daring to break your gaze.
A sound you had no idea you could make slipped from your mouth, barely above a whisper as your eyes fixated on his dick. It was lengthy and thick, as dominating as the rest of him was.
You shivered in delight.
Slowly, you lifted your hand and glided it across his cock, memorised. A sound escaped Morpheus' lips and a fire ignited in your chest, you wanted to draw every sound he could possibly make out of him.
His eyes were dark, intense with want when you looked at him, containing to run your hand along his erection. You delighted in how his muscles spasmed, his entire body racing to your slightest touch.
If he reacted this way to your hand, how would he react to your mouth?
You needed to find out.
You refused to break eye contact as you opened your mouth slowly, lips parting delicately. You quickly guided his cock to your mouth, lips fitting around the tip smoothly.
Morpheus' hand gripped the marble counter, fixated on the way your lips wrapped so perfectly around him.
So very perfect.
You took more of him. Slowly swiping your tongue along the base of his length. He shivered against you, pressing further into you. You smirked, moving so that all of him was in your mouth. A quiet groan escaped his lips, pretty and pink.
You wanted more sounds, louder sounds.
You bobbed your head once, twice, before you only had the tip of him in your mouth, tongue swirling against it. He stared at you, wide-eyed, drunken on pleasure, waiting for you to move again.
But you wouldn't, you wanted to draw everything out of him.
He groaned softly, knowing so well what you wanted.
"More," He grunted, "Give me more, y/n."
You lifted away only to say, "Yes, my king."
And then you fit him into your mouth in one go.
Morpheus hissed.
Your pace was quick, tantalizing as your tongue ran along every sensitive part it could. You relished in the darkness in his eyes as he watched you take him so very well. The shakiness in his breath delighted you. The heave in his chest excited you.
Dream of the Endless was falling apart because of you and you alone.
One of his hands was gripping the counter, the other tense, unsure of where to go. Quickly, you grabbed it and guided it to your hair, staring up at Morpheus with a siren's eyes. And you were a siren, drawing him in, intoxicating him like you had been doing for aeons.
He let his hand rest there for a moment. Then you licked the underside of his dick and his hand tightened into a fist, yanking at your hair as he groaned, becoming breathless so very easily.
You moaned at the stinging sensation.
Morpheus gasped, whined, and bucked into your mouth.
His dark eyes shimmered, "Again."
You moaned around him again, and he bucked into you again.
You could see it, Morpheus was chasing his high, pleasure streaming strongly through his veins, desperation clawing at him for release. he was losing himself to pleasure, consumed by you.
You took your head away.
Morpheus' chest heaved, slight confusion breaking through the haze of desire. He did not dare say a word, waiting for you.
You smiled prettily.
"Do you want it?" You hummed, "My king."
A raspy groan escaped his throat, and his hand tightened its grip on your hair, hypnotized by all that was you.
Yes, the answer was.
He wanted it all.
He wanted you to pleasure him then he wanted to make you fall apart over and over again until you knew nothing but his name. Until it was the only thing you could say. Until your body only knew his touch.
He wanted your legs around him, whines falling free from your pretty mouth as he thrust into you, arms desperately clinging to his shoulders, gasping his name. Morpheus.
Fuck, he wanted that.
His voice was deep, intoxicating, as he yanked your hair, eyes dark, "I am your king and you will please me."
You shivered, he was ordering you.
"Yes sir," You were a dutiful subject and would give anything he so desired.
A sound akin to a growl tore from Morpheus' throat instantly. he bucked his hips, using you just how he wanted to, chasing his release. And, fuck, was he chasing it. He grew louder and louder, moans echoing in the quiet, making your core burn for him.
You bobbed your head fervently, desperate for your king to spill into your mouth, to still in his euphoria, sweat coating his skin. Gods, you wanted it.
"Yesyesyes..." He panted, midnight hair clinging to his forehead.
He was so close.
You groaned against him, eyes unable or willing to break contact.
The hand that had been gripping the counter come to your cheek, brushing against your brow as Morpheus gasped, "Keep going, my dream. Make your king cum. Make your king cum."
Oh, fuck.
His sharp breaths filled the air, almost overpowering the sound of your pretty lips sucking his cock.
Suddenly, he became breathless, the loudest groan you had ever heard flying from his lips.
And he was cumming. Hard. Harder than he ever had before.
his grip on your hair kept you from moving, not that you wanted to. You wanted every last drop, every part of him. Morpheus' head was thrown back, lips parted in a silent scream, eyes screwed closed.
Gently, your hands ran up and down his legs, slowly drawing him from his high.
His chest heaved again and slowly he looked down at you, eyes glimmering like blown stars. His grip on your hair loosened, his other hand tenderly stroking your temple. You leaned into it openly, you would always accept affection from him.
Slowly, you pulled away, letting his length fall from your mouth with a delicious pop, Dream following your every move. You refused to break eye contact as you swallowed.
His eyes widened, the hand tracing your face gliding toward your lips, silently demanding that you open them. You did so. A quiet gasp fell from his divine mouth, you had swallowed it all. His eyes shimmered.
"Did I please you, my king?" You questioned both teasingly and not.
And suddenly, Morpheus was yanking you up, not allowing you time to blink as were pressed against the cold, marble counter.
You barely had a chance to gasp before his lips were on yours.
You met him with equal desperation. Aeons of pining and a century apart mixing together. You had missed one another dearly, more so than either of you realised before now.
He bit your lip teasingly, tongue battling with yours for dominance that you easily gave up. It was easy to become undone for the King of Dreams and you'd do it whenever he wanted you to.
Your legs wrapped around his waist as you jumped onto the counter, pulling him flush against you as you continued to kiss his blushing lips, memorising his taste. Berries, just like the throne room.
You moaned into his mouth, one hand tangling itself in his soft hair and the other desperately gripping his shoulder, his very bare shoulder. You forced yourself to break the kiss for a mere moment and looked him up and down, all of his clothes were gone.
You felt him smirk against you.
You relished in it, whispering in his ear, "Now that's a trick I like. Clothes can be such a nuisance."
A raspy chuckle came from him, bright eyes dark, "Not in this case."
And then you felt his hands on your thighs, "Would you rather my fingers or my tongue?"
"Fuck..." You murmured, shivering, "I want both."
"Then you shall have both," He hummed and with startling ease, your underwear was ripped off and it went straight to your core, pulsing.
Teasingly, his fingers ran across your thighs, drawing closer and closer to the place you wanted him to touch you most. You arched into him, desperate.
A sly grin made its way onto his lips as he darted toward your neck, latching on with a fierce kiss. He'd litter your neck in marks, and the whole of creation would know you were his.
He did not allow a word to escape your lips, one of his fingers twirling around your clit and the other slipping into your soaked heat with ease.
"Morpheus!" You cried with a whine, bucking into his hand.
You felt him smirk against your skin and were suddenly reminded of your earlier thought. His moonlight skin would look even more delicious when it was covered in your marks.
You were quick to pepper kisses to his jaw than his neck and when you came to his ear you got a very interesting reaction indeed.
He tensed, a gasp escaping his lips.
You didn't hesitate to bite it, kissing it teasingly.
Morpheus retaliated. Another finger drove into you, curling and twisting so perfectly you could already feel your high call on the horizon.
And then, he pressed against that spot of nerves.
You moaned, gripping his hair tighter as your chest pressed flush against his, "There."
He lifted his head from your neck, eyes teasing as he pressed against that spot once more, watching in fascination as you whined, "There?"
He pressed against it again.
You cried out, "Yes! Right fucking there!" Your forehead fell against his, "You're going to make me cum."
Suddenly, he stopped. You gasped in upset.
He gazed at you, wonder-struck, he had created you and yet all of these expressions were new to him. He wanted to see all of the expressions you could make.
He slowly pulled his fingers away and up to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them. You watched, hypnotized. He groaned quietly at the taste of you on his tongue, desperate to have more.
He wanted more.
He needed more.
And he dropped to his knees.
"Morpheus!" You gasped in surprise.
Dream of the Endless never kneeled for anyone.
Your hand came to grip his milky-white arm. It was wrong for a being such as him to kneel before one of his creations, a mere fragment of his power.
His eyes shimmered, taking a softer shine as he felt your emotions course through him.
Gently, he lifted your hand, staring up at you intently, "You are far more than my creation, y/n. Far more," His voice dropped, "Now, please don't stop me again."
You shivered, hands coming to grip the counter.
Morpheus smirked, "So good for me."
Then, he hiked your legs over his slender shoulders. And, fuck, his face was framed so perfectly in between them. Dark hair was swept across his forehead, dark eyes glittering brighter than the universe, and dark desire painted his lips.
The king didn't hesitate.
His tongue licked a strip along your folds and you gasped. Bloody hell. His mouth came to tease around your clit, sucking and slurping, eliciting sounds unknown to you from your lips. Your legs closed tighter around his head, forcing his face closer to your heat.
You felt him smirk against you and you shivered. Eyes seared in amusement. Oh, how he loved the way you fell apart for him.
Suddenly, he delved in.
Skillful was his tongue as it caressed you, licking every sensitive spot it could as your taste spilt down his chin. He could care less. He relished in it. To him, you were greater than anything else, he would never tire of you, he would want you for all eternity.
He could imagine it now, his tongue making you writhe on his thrown as he pleasured you. His tongue igniting something in you as you struggled to keep quiet in the halls. His tongue making you cry out as you cum over and over again on his bed.
Those thoughts fueled him. His tongue moved faster, the slurping noise so sinful growing deliciously louder.
You yelped in delight rutting against his face.
He rose a brow and his arm came up to hold your hips down, forcing you still for him. You whined at his pace, you had never felt euphoria as strong as this.
Morpheus was a god, greater than a god and he was yours.
You could feel your release coming.
"You're so good," You just managed to gasp, fixated on him, "So, so good. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum just for you, my king."
His eyes glinted.
He continued fervently. Whines spilt from your mouth like prayer as you grew further and further consumed by Morpheus. Fuck, the man knew how to use his tongue.
Your chest heaved, hands struggling to grip the counter as your body flooded with pleasure.
You were so close. So fucking close.
And then you were cumming.
The air was knocked out of you as your body shook with the strongest orgasm you had ever had. A broken whine fell from your lips as you fell apart against Morpheus, only aware of the delicious warmth of his body and the tantalizing chill of the counter.
The king, like a starving man, lapped up every drop of your release, almost cumming himself because of how divine you tasted on his tongue.
Softly, his hand came to clutch yours as he pulled you down from your high. Slowly, his tongue swirled around your heat, drawing you back into reality.
Through hooded eyes and a bleary mind, you gripped Morpheus' hand tighter, chest heaving as you stared down at him. His regal cheekbones glittered with the light of the moon, his eyes glimmered like galaxies, and his lips formed into a proud smirk as he admired his work.
A harsh kiss was pressed to your inner thigh, his teeth biting into your skin, marking you. You whined and a soft, caring kiss followed after.
"Come here...please..."You gasped breathlessly.
Morpheus followed your request without hesitation.
You sighed and your arms carefully came to wrap around his slender shoulders. He moved closer, the ridge of his nose brushing yours, gliding along your cheek as he swept some hair out of your face.
"I missed you," You whispered, almost hesitantly.
Morpheus' eyes fluttered closed, eyelashes like strands of the night sky as he murmured, "And I missed you," His forehead pressed against yours, "Come to the Dreaming with me."
It was a request, you realised. He was not ordering you.
"I will," You spoke softly.
Then you grinned mischievously, pressing closer to him.
Your lips found the shell of his ear, voice a tantalizing whisper, "Is that where you will have me?"
He shivered against you. Bright eyes darkening once more with lust, "I will have you everywhere. On my throne. Against the halls. In my chambers. But at this moment I cannot wait. I will have you here, now."
You giggled, "My bedroom's down the hall."
Morpheus smirked, hands coming down to tap your thighs, silently commanding you. You jumped up. His firm hands gripped your legs, pressing you as close to him as possible, groaning quietly in your ear.
And suddenly, it was impossible to be apart from him.
Your lips were acting fervently, pressing desperate kisses to his as he skilfully walked the two of you to your bed where he would ravish you entirely. Your lips attack his neck, playfully biting his ear as you sucked hickeys into his creamy white skin, the redness a beautiful contrast.
You were so consumed by kissing him and he, you, that neither of you realised you had made it to your bed. You fell onto it, Morpheus easily hovering over you with wonderous, intense eyes.
He looked godly. He looked perfect. He looked like your dream.
Your hand brushed his cheek, "You're beautiful."
His hand caught yours and he pressed the softest of kisses to your palm, "And you're enamouring."
Your heart fluttered. Your hands grasped his shoulders, slowly drifting along the curve of his collar-bones and then to the hardness of his chest.
He allowed you to feel him, slowly lowering himself to whisper, "I want your dress off, now."
"So demanding," You teased.
"I am a king," He rose a brow in response, hands easily gripping the hem of your dress and tugging it off your perfect body. As soon as your dream was thrown into a random corner, Dream's eyes darkened as he studied your body, entirely bare.
You smiled at his expression smugly, "You created all of this, Morpheus. Moulded me, shaped me, it's all yours."
"Yes, it is," He murmured, lips stealing a kiss from you, "And I will take it."
A fire burned in your stomach, igniting in your core as you stroked his length, hard once again. You lifted your head, lips brushing against his, "Then do it."
Morpheus' eyes darkened and with a speed only he possessed, your legs were hooked around his waist and he was hovering over you once more, caging you in his arms.
You shivered in delight.
He groaned lightly as one of his hands stroked his cock, easily lining it up with your burning heat, teasing you. You whined as his length ran across your folds, twirling around your clit, not yet filling you.
"Don't tease..." You gasped, desperate.
He smiled, amused, "Very well."
And the tip of his dick pressed into you.
You flung your head back, and a silent sound escaped your lips as your chest heaved. Fuck, if that's how his tip felt you couldn't wait to know what the rest of him felt like.
Your hands gripped the sheets, tight enough to tear them.
"Look at you," Morpheus' voice rumbled like lightning, "I've barely entered you and you're already a mess."
"Only for you," You mused, "Unless you would like me to tell you about my other--"
A whorish moan flood from your lips.
Your back arched.
Morpheus was inside. All of him.
A swear fell from his lips, an ancient language you know only faintly, and fuck, did it sound good. It was almost as good as how full you felt, how he stretched you so deliciously, how you fit him so fucking perfectly.
Morpheus' chest heaved as he reeled from the pleasure of having you squeeze around him, consuming him, taking him in a way no one else ever could.
Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails gripping his skin hard.
He shivered, fuck, he enjoyed that.
"Fuck me," Gasped, breathless, "Fuck me, Morpheus."
The god of a man chuckled above you, "Such a demanding little thing."
He didn't let you respond, bucking into you slowly, intensely.
You moaned, loudly.
"Now, now. You wouldn't want to disturb your neighbours, would you, my dream?" He ground against you, eyes glinting mischievously.
Your nails scratched up his back, eliciting a sound from him as you spoke, "I don't give two shits if they hear us, I just want you to fuck me."
"And I will," His voice was husky, deep with lust, "Until you know nothing but my name."
You didn't get a chance to respond to that. Dream's hips rutted deeply against yours, fucking into you perfectly. His thrusts were powerful, waves of pleasure shooting across you as he set his pace.
And fuck, it was brutal.
his body snapped against yours. Your headboard banged against the wall. You couldn't think of anything but him. He was relentless, fucking you so deeply the sound of slapping skin almost overpowered your moans.
You had never moaned so loud, body powerless against his body and will. You'd do whatever he wanted. Anything he wanted.
Morpheus' strong hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises and you welcomed his mark on you. Your nails scraped along his back. Tangled themselves in his hair as you whined and moaned.
"No other being can make you feel the I way do," He hissed in your ear, a king, as he hammered into you, "No other being will ever be able to have you the way I do. No one."
You nodded feverishly as his body rocked against yours, "No one. Only you. Only fucking you."
"That's right, my dream. My y/n," Morpheus moaned, gripping your legs tighter, pulling you closer, fucking you deeper.
You wanted to speak but words could not escape your mouth. Whines fell from your lips instead, loud and free as you arched your back.
He was too good. Dream was a passionate lover and you fucking loved it.
"Possessive," You just managed to gasp.
"Entirely," He smirked breathlessly.
You could feel your high storming toward you, faster than any orgasm before and you chased it. You bucked against him, somehow managing to match his impossibly animalistic pace as he fucked into roughly.
Your hands desperately clutched his shoulders.
He lowered his body, pressing it flush against yours as he groaned against your skin, "Are you going to cum, my dream? Are you going to cum with your king? Are you going to cum with me?"
Oh, fuck yes.
You frantically nodded your head, "Inside."
The thought of him leaving you now almost made you want to cry. You wanted him inside of you, wanted him to still against you as his cock twitched and he cummed.
Morpheus groaned, "As you wish."
You whined as loud as possible, body wrapped tightly around him as he fucked you. He filled you so deliciously, so perfectly. No one else could ever compare. You were almost screaming in pleasure now, consumed by your king.
You were on the verge, so very close.
"Morpheus," You whimpered.
Morpheus' head burrowed into the crook of your neck, lips flush against your skin as he panted a mantra, "Mine."
Your head pressed against his neck in response, lips brushing over the shell of his ear, "Yours. All fucking yours. Just like your mine."
He nodded erratically, barely able to collect a thought, drunken on the pleasure you gave him. So strong and unlike anything he had ever felt before, he was addicted.
His breaths were shallow, "Yours. All yours."
His hips canted against yours, both of you desperately chasing the releases that were riding toward you. He fucked you ferally, pace bruising and grips even more so, you loved it.
So close.
You pressed feverish kisses to his skin, gasping breathless breaths.
So, so close.
His face buried into your neck, moan wrenching from his lips.
And you shattered.
Your mouth opened into a scream of his name, "Morpheus!"
Your orgasm ripped through you. Stronger than anything before. Better than anything before. Morpheus' cum filled you as he nested deep within, groan filling the air.
You were floating, disconnected from reality, only aware of Morpheus and his touch.
Your chest heaved. Eyes wide, blurry. Mind dizzy with ecstasy. The delirium of desire easily consumes you.
Morpheus' voice rang deeply in your ear, "I have you, my dream. I have you, y/n."
And he did have you, body flush against yours, one hand still gripping your hip as the other reached forward, pulling your hair out of your face as he tenderly placed his forehead against yours.
Slowly, you opened your eyes, meeting his intense ones. They shone like creation, burned with passion and seared with something deeper. Something much deeper.
Your breath hitched.
The only sounds between you were your heavy breaths.
Morpheus pressed his forehead further against yours, nose and lips brushing against yours as he stared at you deeply.
His words were soft, slow, almost hesitant.
"I love you, y/n."
Your heart warmed, an uncontrollable smile spreading across your face.
You giggled lightly, "And it only took you almost all of existence to say it."
His pout was adorable.
Your hand came to cup his cheek, lips almost flush against his, "And I love you, Morpheus."
He pressed his lips to yours fervently, two souls separated no longer, finding their homes within each other, just like the fates decided it would be long ago. And Destiny, of course.
For the first time in a long time, Morpheus, the King of Dreams, Dream of the Endless was completely and utterly awake.
And he never wanted to be away from your side again.
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Tags:
@kisses4kitty @kittycatcait219 @we-love-our-bandz
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thegreatestsandwich · 2 years
Text
Aiming for Cupid (Dream of Endless x Cupid!Reader)
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Pairing: Morpheus x Cupid!Reader
Word count: 12.8k
Summary: There are a few things you and Morpheus have in common, you both get obssessed with love, you are to fowards with love and you have your heart broken in the name of love. Maybe it would be a good idea if you ended up together? Maybe? No?
Warning: Obssessive love, reader does not shut up, cuestionably outfits, Dream being a stubburn man who falls in love quite easily, awkwarness everywhere, bad greek mythology knowledge 
A/N: I had this idea stuck on my head since sunday and this was suppose to be a small little cute thing around 500 words :’) 
Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received!
Masterlist
Part 2
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“ My life before you was a mess
Couldn't win one round of this chess”
- TOMORROW X TOGETHER
There is a saying that goes “Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be complete without Cupid.” You hated that saying because it was false, no life would be complete without you, as you took pride in your work to speak for itself. Being the definition of love, the Goddess of Love (in this century, you tend to change each 100 years to keep it exciting) has its perks. You know love at the very deepest core, you treasure it, you would kill and die for love. That’s how you are. You just love love.
But today, you wanted to kill in the name of love. Archie Bodycomb was getting on your nerves. He was a sweet kid, you really love him and you even went beyond yourself to try and help his confidence with love. You managed to ‘accidentally’ introduce him to the love of his life Rachel Cobbledick. Both were awkward on their own ways and on their first date, they just sat there, one in front of the other watching intently at the forks on the table. Yes, you really wanted them to be together, perhaps they were just perfect for each other, but in reality, you loved their last names and decided to play a little with their love life.
They managed to flourish in a beautiful friendship that later transformed in love. It wasn’t easy as everybody was against them to be together, specially his mother, but the more negative responses they got, more obsessed you became to get them together.
And when Cupid gets something on her head, there is no way in heaven or hell, there is no God, who could stop her.
That’s how many relationships last a long time. But the ones that die along the way were because there was no spark that interested her to keep them together. A good example is all the marriages the Gods had along history. Yeah, you were really bored on that period of time.
You began following Archie since he woke up, you watched him get dressed and do really awkward poses in front of his mirror, of course you were cheering him, even though he couldn’t see you, you were helping him get the confidence.
That’s why you were currently behind a bush, a pair of bright pastel pink binoculars glued to your eyes, a bag of candies on your right and a big notebook displayed perfectly to the curious eyes, it had the whole plan of Archie written there, with corrections by your hand so this moment would be perfect and you would made sure of it.
“Come on, come on, come on.” You held tightly the binoculars against your eyes. “Just like we practice Archie, one knee on the ground, yes, yes, perfect.” You gasped horrified. “No! that’s the wrong knee!”
“Having fun today?”
You turned your head to the side, binoculars still pressed against your eyes. “Hey Death!” You loopily smiled.
“Hey Cupid, is there a reason why are you behind a bush?” She kneeled at your side, her fingers tapped the binoculars. “Nice glasses.”
“Oh! I’m on the job, you know, Cupid’s never rest and all…Thank you very much by the way, got them at a sale somewhere in the world. Love your outfit, it’s really gothic!” You turned your attention back to the couple, apparently Archie wasn’t doing so good, he managed to lose the ring. “Damn it Archie.”
“Friends of yours?” Death asked you, now completely absorbed at the couple as well.
“Friends? No, no, but Archie over there was planning his proposal for the last 7 years and today was the lucky day, not for him, he completely sucks at preparing things but that’s why I am here, to watch and to laugh.”
“Ah.” Death nodded understanding, “So this is the reason you are behind a bush?”
“Well, of course! Thank you for asking, by the way, she’s going to say yes anyway, she loves him to much, even though they both are a disaster on these things.” You sighed tiredly. “One would think that my presence would help but sadly that’s not true, I mean, yeah, it’s running smoothly but not perfect, I blame his mother, she wanted to come. Crazy lady.”
You both sat comfortably on the grass, the bush still hiding you from the sight of the others, not really helping as you were invisible to the eyes of the humans, but you love the theatrics of these situations.
“Come on Archie, you got this man, you already had years of practice.” You silently encourage. Your hand grabbed a bag from your right, you gave it to Death. “Here! I got these, they were on sale, they’re lemon, really good.”
“Thank you! What are they?”
You hummed. “Don’t know, the nice old man just wanted them gone, probably they are expired but still good.”
Death watched the bag, slowly putting it on the floor. “I’ll have some…later.”
“Suit yourself.” You grabbed a few and popped it on your mouth. “So! Is there a reason you are here? Are you here for Archie and Rachel? Please don’t. They took me too much time to get them to tie the knot.”
Death laughed softly at your devastating face, her eyes glancing at the couple, they were now on the ground, both looking for the ring. Thankfully it wasn’t raining. “Don’t worry, not here for them…Actually I wanted to come see you, you know I miss you, you need to visit more often.”
“How sweet! I miss you too always, and I love talking with you, but you are here for something specifically, sooo…come tell Cupid how can I help you, is it love? Do you need a spark? I can do that easily, but shh, shh, shh, Archie finally found the ring!” Your smiled widened, “Come on man! Just say the phrase!”
“It’s about my brother.” Death said, ignoring your grunting, clearly you weren’t paying attention to her.
“Maybe he just needs me there, would it be so bad if I go there and asked her to marry him? I mean, what’s more romantic than having Cupid asking your hand in matrimony?”
Death turned her head to the now disastrous situation. Apparently Archie hit their foreheads hard enough to knock them back to the ground, you began standing up, ready to intervene but she stopped you. You turned at her confused.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to intervene in this situations Cupid.”
“Yeah, yeah, semantics. But, if we are speaking in terms of rules…I am not breaking anything, besides, those are my rules, I ruled them so hard, and he needs help! That pains me so much Death!.” You pouted at her.
“Maybe you just need to take a deep breath and wait…look.” You turned towards the couple.
In your crisis, Archie managed to propose successfully to Rachel and now they were kissing on the grass.
“Gross.” You gagged in disgust. “Even for Cupid, there is too much tongue. You were saying?”
Death sighed, she knew how distracted you could get with love and she was trying to find a soft way to ask for your help and not get offended.
“I wanted to talk about my brother.”
“Huh, you do have a lot of brothers Death, and sisters, you have a lot of those two.” You begin counting her siblings on your hand. “There’s you and Desire and the other one, the one with the thing that does stuff, the one with a book, also that other one and the other other one.”
“You don’t remember our names, do you?”
You bit your lip smiling, shrugging. “Well, I have to remember millions of names my sweet, sweet Death, of course I tend to forget things, it would be kind of you if you tell me what brother are you talking about.”
Death stood up, offering a hand at you, you gladly took it. “It’s about Dream.”
You interlaced your fingers together and making your hands swing back and forth, you began humming, your mind trying to remember who this Dream guy was, to be honest, probably he wasn’t interesting as his face wasn’t in your memory. “Dream…Dream…Dreeeaaam…I do know Desire, we went for tea last week, so that sibling is out of the question, Dream…okey I don’t know who is he.”
Death laughed at your words, you amused her. “You know Dream, he’s tall, always serious, his face is always pouting in pain, you could even say he is the definition of moodiness”
“Mmmh,” You hummed, still lost in thought. “Not ringing a bell, sorry friend.”
“He has more heartbreaks than love stories.”
“Oh! Yeah! Of course I know Dream! Aww, I love him to pieces, always have a blast when he’s in love.” You turned to her excited, grabbing her other hand and beginning to jump happily. “He’s such a cutie pie when he is in love.”
“Yeah,” Death said uncertainly, “About that…”
Your head tilted to the side, “Mmh? Does he need my help again? He could just ask, I’m always opened to help him find love, you should tell him to ask me for some advice, he sucks at love and that’s coming from me.”
“Cupid,” Death sighed tiredly, forcing a smile. “How about we go for something to eat? My treat.”
Your eyes opened wide, a big smile breaking in your face. “Oh! Yes! I was craving cake! Come on, I know a place, there’s this girl I helped find love, you will love the story, it began with a cucumber, a sex shop and crickets…”
You dragged Death across town, talking about everything and nothing, the way was fun at your side, you always have a story to tell, on your way to this particular bakery that you described as ‘the perfect place you would stuff your face and not be upset later’ was full of chatting, mostly on your side, Death tended to simply nod here and there, offer a few comments. You handed her your notebook and the bag of candy you were eating earlier. Claiming that you now were on a break and that notebook was work.  
The bakery was cute, it was a single floor place with pastel colors surrounding you, the smell of fresh lemon cookies flooded the air, making you salivate, you entered the store still dragging your friend and sat her on the booth that always were reserved to you.
“I’m going to order, want something in particular? Forget it, I know what you would like, I know you say that it was your treat but now it’s my treat because I haven’t seen you in forever and I won’t accept a no for an answer.” You walked away ignoring the protests of your friend.
Death sighed, her hands rubbing her eyes tiredly, she knew your mood was about to change from happiness to hateful and resentful, that’s how you were and that’s how history never portrayed you, they always thought you were the most charismatic and happiest chubby child with wings, but in reality, you were far off that description.
She shrugged, any wrong words and she would face your wrath, Death thought of Psyche and now she was afraid, she knew your marriage with the Goddess of the Soul, she remembered how disastrous your divorce was and all because of a single petty fight of the two of you. Those were really dark times for love.
You returned happily, little hops accompanied your steps, your pink and yellow dress moving in a poetic way, you really captivated the eyes of everybody there, even Death was captivated by your presence. You sat in front of here and continued your story of how crazy yesterday’s couple were.
“I’m telling you Death, those were the craziest ones, they got married on a field of corn and then begun to make out with the corn.”
“Cupid…” Death tried to interrupt you.
“Okey, yes, it was my fault, they met on ‘the corniest love festival’ from Iowa, but you would think they had another interest besides corn! But no! I think they plan to name their kids Corneshia and Corny, we should totally be there when the kids are born.”
“Cupid.” She tried again with a bit more force. You shut up quickly, your cheeks puffing in embarrassment. “So…What I was saying, Dream.”
“Yes, your moody brother who doesn’t understand relationships, how can I help him, my arrows doesn’t work with you Endless perfections.” You winked at her.
“I need you to stop, Cupid.” Death decided to just be direct and began praying to not offend you.
You blinked confused at her. “St..op?”
Death sighed again, you were really a child. “Yes…Look, I know you love love and you love helping at whatever cost when it comes to finding love.”
You nodded proudly, “Well, yeah. That’s my job.”
Death hands rested on the table, her fingers intertwining tightly, your eyes went to them in an instant. “Well, Dream is known for not having durable relationships, as you probably already know.”
“I know,” You sighed, your hands covered your face in a dramatic way. “It breaks my heart whenever his relationships ends!”
“I know, honey, I do know, but…You need to stop, Cupid, please stop.”
“I don’t understand.” You muttered against your hands. “You don’t want him to find love? Does he don’t want to find love?”
Death took your hands away from your face and hold them softly. “Dream doesn’t understand romance like you do honey, he goes all in, in an obsessive way and then he has his heart broken because he just exposed it.”
“I don’t see the problem.” Your took your hands away from hers, “Love is obsessive, and he going all in it’s romantic. I don’t understand what you want me to do.”
“I want you to stop trying to make Dream fall in love…” Death finally said, it was so quiet you almost missed it.
The room got quiet, Death noticed. She saw your eyes darkened quickly, one of your brows twitching in annoyance, she could tell she fucked up really bad.
“Are you questioning my methods, Death?” You stood up, your presence towered her and for the first time in existence, Death felt tiny in comparison to you. “Are you questioning my work?”
“What?” Death whispered fearfully. “No, no. Of course not! I know how perfect your methods are.” You watched her intently, from the corner of her eye, she could see the other humans lowered their heads in submission. “I’m just hoping you would take a break from helping my brother.”
Your lip twitched angrily. “A…break?” Your voice was serious and demanded submission at your persona, Death quickly averted her eyes, trying to placate your anger in anyway. You were now a very pissed and angry God.
She cleared her throat. “Yes…a break.” Death paused for a second, the room was now silent, even the outside was silent and the eyes of everyone were on both of you, specifically on her, trying to see the mistake she would soon regret. “Look, when Dream falls in love and has his heart broken, it pains me so much because I don’t know what to do.”
“You are saying that I do not do a good job.” You spatted your words with venom. Death nervously swallow.
“You always do a perfect job, Cupid.”
“Eros.” You forced the name out. “One who criticizes my job does not deserve to call me by that name, and that goes for you, Death of Endless, and I suggest you think carefully of your next words before you speak them to me.”
Death got quiet the moment she saw your arch materialized on your hand, a dark arrow ready to be fired. A tremble ran through her back before finally meeting your dangerous glare. Deciding it might be reasonable to let you know about Dream’s imprisonment. “The past one hundred years my little brother Dream disappeared, he tried to catch a rogue nightmare but in the end, he was caught by an evil man.”
You slowly sat down, your full attention on her persona, you put your arch on the table, the arrow still pointing at the Endless.
“He spend one hundred years trapped by this man, he demanded things Dream could not give, so he just trapped him on a glass sphere, alone and believe me that I am not questioning your job, I would never do that, I just need you to understand that what Dream really needs is a break from love so he can heal, he really needs to heal, Eros. Please, as a friend, take a break from him.”
You watched her carefully, your eyes moving across her face, trying to look for the lie, but you only found a tired being, a sister who was looking for her brother. You nodded tightly.
“You want me to take a break…alright.” You muttered, your voice completely different from the moment you entered the store, it was unnatural and weird on your persona.
“I hope it not too much to ask.” Death said, her tone trying to soothe your anger.
“It is not too much to ask.” You responded, still tightly. Your face moved to the left as a waitress slowly made your way to your table, her eyes were glued to the tray she was carrying, not meeting any of your eyes.
“Umm.” She nervously began. “Would…would you like…a few…more minutes?”
“Put the plates on the table and leave.” You answered with no emotion, your eyes returned to Death, who was trying to placate her heart at the feeling of your stare.
The waitress quickly set the plates, this amount of food was way too much for both of you, but she didn’t said anything, she finished fast and leave without turning, her eyes on the ground. A sing of submission.
Your hand grabbed a fork and stabbed it on one of the cakes, the first bite of the sweetness placate some of your anger, the soft satisfied hum you let out was a sign of your mood finally going to a happy one. Death almost got up and kissed the waitress in gratefulness.
“Is it good?” She tried asking. Your eyes opened quickly and a huge smile broke on your face.
“Good? Are you joking?! This is the best cake ever!” You happily exclaimed. The room (and Death) almost sighed in relief at your smile.
Death smiled, grabbing a fork as well. “Can I…?” She motioned at the cake you were happily eating.
You laughed, your cheeks full of dessert. You pushed the plate to her side and she ate a bit, let’s just say her reaction was almost the same as yours.
“So, would it be alright?” Death asked you, trying to reference the topic without setting off your mood again.
“Yeah, sure I’ll take a break.” You shrugged, “Sounds fun.”
Death watched you curiously, she felt your words meant something different but she wasn’t quite sure what they could mean. “Thank you so much Cupid,” She grabbed your hand, you squeezed in response. “This will help Dream so much.”
“No,” You smile widened. “Thank you for this.”
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 ‘THE DIVORCE RATE HAS GROWN BY AN ALARMING 47% EXPERTS SAY THE GOVERNMENT IT AT FAULT’
‘EXPERTS SAY LOVE IS FALSE, CHECK THE INFORMATION BELOW.’
‘DO YOU WISH TO BE MARRIED? COME TO MADAM LOVE, SHE WILL HELP YOU MAKE YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE’
‘BRIDE KILLS GROOM BECAUSE HE CANCELS WEDDING’
‘ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTIONS TO SEE IF YOU’LL BE THE LUCKY ONE TO TIE THE KNOT!’
 The first few days of your vacation were hard, you didn’t know what to do as the only thing you were good at was your job. So you spend a few days just sitting on a bench at a park with a bag of tiny donuts and began feeding the pigeons. One donut for them, one for you. Equity.
One afternoon a lady sat by your side, you were currently throwing pieces of brownies to the pigeons, a pile of crumbs were on your lap, but your concentration was full on the birds.
“You shouldn’t feed chocolate to the birds, my dear, that caused them to have heartburn.” She smiled at your dedication, quietly absorbing the outrageous outfit you had on. Orange sundress, purple tights, cowboy boots and two huge bows at each side of your space buns.
“Really? I thought they liked them.” You sadly responded, the five remining ones you decided to shove them on your mouth, you turned to the old lady, your cheeks puffed. You looked like a squirrel.
“Try a baguette next time, a guy usually loves feeding them with that and they seem to love it.” She smiled at your puffy cheeks, she handed you a tissue. “You have a few crumbs on your face, honey.”
You swallowed the brownies, almost choking in the process. “Thank you miss.” You sighed.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?”
You turned to the lady, your legs quickly thrown at her lap, your head on her shoulder, and your arms hugging tightly at one of hers. “I just…I don’t know what to do, this is the first time I’m taking a vacation and I don’t know what to do.” You sobbed. “My life is my work, what am I without it?”
The lady was shook at your forwardness but patted your head softly. “Oh, sweetheart, maybe you just need to go out there, perhaps if you see the world, you might have what you are looking for.”
“You really believe so?” Your teary eyes met hers, and the lady softened at your sad face. She nodded. “But where should I go? Should I really go alone? That sounds sad.”
“Well, my niece really love this place, it’s a huge park and there is this mouse that it’s the mascot of that place…she always comes back happy when she goes there.”
“Park? Mouse?” You scooted closer to her. “Can I go there?”
The lady nodded, “Of course you can honey, perhaps you need that kind of distraction.”
You nodded along her words, your arms hugged her neck and squeeze it. You got off of her and began jumping in delight. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You and your niece now have my blessing, love will always be on your family till the day I die!” You turned away and began running, now with a plan to enjoy your vacation.
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You ended up buying a camera, it was so ugly you fell in love with it. The park was better than how the lady described it, it had a huge castle and lots of princesses, but your mission was finding the mouse, you wanted a picture with it, as the lady describe him as her niece’s favorite.
The mouse was better than you expected, his little red pants was something appealing and he even compliment your mismatched outfit.
“Wow! That’s a cool outfit! Minnie! Minnie! Come look at her outfit!” The Mouse quickly called his friend over. You were overjoyed, happily showing off your aqua leggings, cowboy boots and yellow dress, your hair was cascading on your back, and the big mouse diadem was bigger than your head.
“Oh! How beautiful she looks Mickey! She even has our ears, maybe she’s our family?” Minnie turned to Mickey, you were a few seconds of dying with happiness.
You thanked Death with all your heart for this vacation.
 “Mister Waiter!” You called loudly, the bar was busy, a few people were pushing around, one even touched you and your hard stare was enough for him to piss his pants. The waiter came to your side, his face was tired, you knew why, his wife left him for his best friend. “I would like another one of this purpulish drinks!” You softly shake the glass on the air. “Could you add an umbrella to it? And…And…And glitter! Thank you.”
You began eating the peanuts they gave you hours ago, a part of you were actually surprise the park had a bar, but it made sense, the parents of the chaotic children needed to vent their frustrations with drinks, you couldn’t complain as they serve glittery drinks.
The waiter came back with your drink and left without a word, you shrugged and went back to your boot, you were playing with one of the bracelets one of the princesses gave you, it was yellow, perfectly in combination with your purple dress and green tights, you loved it.
You kept drinking even when a shadow towered you. Your eyes moved upwards and saw a guy, he was quite an interesting character, black pants, black sweater, black coat, black unruly hair. His face was seriously looking at you. You swore you saw him from somewhere but you weren’t quite sure from where.
“Eros.” He sat down in front of you, his movements where quiet and you wonder if he was part of a show or something.
You loudly swallow from the straw, “Mystery Guy.” You tried greeting him with the same tone, but you ended up laughing at how ridiculous you sounded.
He looked at you waiting for an answer to whatever question he tried to ask without words.
“Mhm? Have we met before? I think I have seen you from somewhere…Oh! Are you the guy that Elvis tried to officiate the wedding on Vegas? It was so amazing how you ran off with him instead of the girl. Love it.”
The guy closed his eyes for a second, trying his hardest to not say something harsh. “My sister has spoken to you.”
Your head tilted to a side in confusion, the straw still hanging you’re your mouth. “Sister...sister…sister…mmmh…I know a lot of sisters, there are these triplets that wanted to be married with one single guy! Imagine his surprise when they began fighting on their wedding night to be the first to be fuc…”
“My sister, Death has spoken to you.” He interrupted you quickly, not wanting to hear the rest of the story.
Your straw fell, your smile widened. “Oh! Death, I love her so much, such a cutie pie, great taste on shoes…wait a second…you are her brother!” You happily exclaimed. “You are not Desire, obviously, we went shopping last month so you are not them…and that’s it, I don’t really remember the others.”
He said nothing, watching you carefully, his eyes stopping at the mouse ears from the top of your head. You smiled at that and shake your head softly so you could show off your new favorite accessory.
“You should probably say your name,” Your head rested on your hand, hair cascading on your side, the other hand began tapping at the sound of whatever was playing from the speakers. “It is courtesy to introduce yourself before sitting at someone’s table and you know my name so…”
“I have many names.” He said instead, you groaned.
“So do I, believe me, people tend to call me whatever, you want to know the worst one?” You began climbing across the table, your face inches from his, your nose touching his. “Dolphin rider, I don’t even like dolphins!” You sat on top of the table facing him. “Now your turn stranger.”
“Morpheus.” His eyes never leaving yours.
“Mmmmh,” You tapped your mouth thinking. “Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry.”
Morpheus sighed, he knew of your antics, all of the Gods knew of them, that’s why the just let you do whatever you wanted, you mostly tired them with your energy.
“Dream of Endless.” He corrected, trying his hardest to stop your hands from placing your diadem on his head. He knew better than stopping you, so he let you just go for it.
“Dream…Dream…Dream…oh! Dream! How lovely to see you, have you done something to your hair? Looking quite delicious…Wait, you need a drink, hold that pretty thought.” You threw your legs at the side of the table, quickly going off. “Mister waiter! Please another one of this purpulish drinks for my friend! Add a little umbrella please, he looks depressed!” You turned towards him, pointing at your diadem. “You take care of that, I will murder you in cold blood if you loose that!”
Morpheus saw you ran off to the bar, you were bouncing excitingly at each step, clearly overjoyed he join you on your drinking time. He never got the chance to properly meet you, only knew of your existence from your attempts on his love life and the words from his siblings, Death and Desire. You were quite energetic, it was proven on how talked and how you moved, you moved like poetry. Like a poet best verse, you were graceful on how you walked, your arms and hips controlled within the rhythm of your feet.
He understood why you were the Goddess of Love, you demanded attention, your whole presence was a delight to the eyes, the way you moved, the way you speak, the way you dressed, you acted purely by love and in the name of love. He was captivated by your whole presence, he wanted you to touch him, he wanted to kneeled for you, to act at your words, he needed that.
Morpheus shook his head, trying to remembered why he was here, he knew that spending to much time at your side was an indicator on why he wanted those forbidden things. He remembered your story, he remembered what would happened if he messed up. Your story with Psyche was wildly unknown to the others, but to the Endless, to the Gods and Goddesses, your story was a warning on what would happened if they offended you.
His blue eyes watched you try to carry a full tray of food, his drink securely on your hand, you slowly put the tray on the table, quickly placing all the plates around him. “Thought you might be hungry.” You smiled at him, he almost returned.
“Eros.” He began, his eyes moving alongside your movements, you sat down in front of him, your hands quickly grabbing one fry and throwing it at your mouth.
“Oh please, you can call me Cupid,” Your head moving happily at the flavor of the food. “We are not there for you to call me love.” You winked.
“Why have you stop doing your duties?” Morpheus ignored your intent of seduction, his voice turning this conversation in a serious tone. You frown at the tone.
“Stop? I haven’t stop silly.” Your arm traveled across the table, one finger booping his nose. He frown. “I’m taking a break, a lovely recommendation from your dearest sister, have I told you how much I adore her? That cutie pie came to me really worried for my well being that demanded me to take a break, love her to bits, you should eat by the way, too skinny.” You pushed a plate of wings to him.
“You must return, the world is in complete chaos because of your absence.” He pushed away the plate of food, he watched how your mouth twitched angrily.
“I. Said. Eat.” You pushed the plate again towards him, your eyes darkening. Morpheus sighed and grabbed a wing, frowning at the sticky feeling on his fingers. You smiled in victory. “But yeaahh, no can do sexy, I am quite enjoying my free time, did you know that you can take cute photos with that happy mouse and his wife?! He even owns this park! We should totally go take a picture with him, you would love him.”
Morpheus took one tiny bite before putting the wing back to the plate, he hated it. “I believe you have no realice the severity of your absence Eros.” -It’s Cupid- “Cupid, the world is…”
“Completely boring I know, but your sister did make a great point Dream.” You sighed, grabbing the wing he didn’t eat.
“Which is?” He asked curiously.
“I’m not good at my job.” Your voice cracked, Morpheus eyes widened, he clearly didn’t know how to treat you, now imagine his stress when he saw tears forming on your face. He was screwed. He should have brought Matthew for help. “I have failed you Dream of Endless” You grabbed his hand, tugging him to your form. “I have not found love for you and you are depressed because of my failure.”
“What?” He let himself be tugged, his body moved across the booth, now sitting at your side. You throw your legs at his lap and hide your face at his neck. He could feel your breathing.
“I know! I don’t deserve to be forgiven, I’m such a disgrace to the name of love and I don’t know how to fix it, how to fix your love life!” You sobbed on his neck. His hands were harshly pressed on the table, his fingers twitching to touch you.
“Cupid, we do not have time for…”
Your face left his neck, your hands squishing both sides of his face, forcing him to look at your teary face, your eyes were bloodshot and your nose was red, but he found you endearing.
“I promise you, Morpheus.” His body shivered at the sound of your voice pronouncing his name. “I will find the way for you to fall in love and not be heart broken.” You place your forehead on his lips. You really love touching. “I Cupid, swear on my name that I will find the perfect love for you…after my vacation. There still a few places I want to see before returning to the job…You should come with me, you could use a vacation, I’m not accepting a no for an answer.”
“I have no time for…”
You hugged him, “Fine, but you should still have your drink, it’s fruty and has lemon on it.”
“Cupid…”
“I said that you are drinking Dream of Endless or I swear to my name I will haunt your love life and trust me, I can be annoying if I want.”
Morpheus sighed and grabbed the drink, he swallow it on one go. “So good! Right?” His hand softly cradle one side of your face, carefully turning it to his face. “Please, you must retorn to your duties Eros. The world is in complete chaos, the world needs love back.”
You bit your lip, your nose nuzzling his, his eyes closed in content. “It’s Cupid and I know, I know, I would totally love to return, really do, I love the job, I love the people and everything.” You sighed, separating yourself from his grasp. “I am tired Morpheus, when your sister came to me, offended my job and my performance, then tried to sweet talk to me again, I knew I was working way too hard and forcing love when it wasn’t needed to be force. I’m one of the few Goddesses to still working hard enough to make the human lives happy. You know what Zeus is doing right know?” He shook his head. “He’s running a strip club on Canada. And me? I’m working my ass off to make people fall in love. But not for me…”
“I do not…”
“I have failed myself Morpheus, I have failed us.” You grabbed another fry and began playing with it. “We are painfully single, do you have any idea what the humans imagine us to be? To them, I am an obese mythical child with wings and a diaper. You are no different, they even put you on a child’s film, you are yellow and look like the personification of the sun, your sand even looks like cookie dust.” You threw the fry away and looked at him. “We are supposed to be hot Morpheus.”
“You are rambling, Cupid.”
“Do you find me attractive?” You asked him suddenly. Your attention full on his person.
Morpheus didn’t know how to answer that, whatever his answer would be could determinate the direction of your way, if he says no, he and the world would have to face your wrath, but if he says yes, he doesn’t truly know what would happen.
“Have faith to know you are attractive.”
You timidly smiled. “You really think so?”
“If you were not, you would have never become the Goddess of Love.” The way he spoke those words left you speechless, those words were full of adoration, you could see it on his eyes, you were his whole focus, you loved it.
You nodded, the smile was still on your face. You stood up and grabbed his hands. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, you knew he was smiling.
“Very well, I will return to my duties this night…”
“Thank you.” Morpheus stood up as well, his face slightly turned downsides, looking softly at you, he knew how you felt, he felt the same the moment he got out of his imprisonment, when he got his tools back and deal with Rose Walker. He understood you completely.
“I’ll be waiting patiently for Friday night.” You excitedly said.
“Friday night?” He whispered.
“For our date silly, I’ll be the one on black!” You giggled before disappearing on a blink of an eye, leaving a starstruck lord of dreams and nightmares there, still wearing pair of mouse ears.
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 Morpheus knew he was on a delicate predicament. His meeting with you went without any problem and he ended up with a compromise he couldn’t break. When his sister came for his aid, he at first refused to it, saying there would be no force he could possess that could change your mind. The story never fully described how you were, and his limited knowledge of you was something that provoke fear on his persona.
He sat on the endless stairs, his cape thrown behind him carelessly, a book with your name on his hands, his eyes completely focusing on the words written on those pages, a few moments ago, Matthew even tried to distract him with something banal but wasn’t successful as his boss was absorbed on your history.
The doors opened harsh, hitting the walls in the process, it startled Matthew, who was also curiously absorbed on your history, he turned his head towards the doors, annoyingly watching how Lucienne was running behind Morpheus’s sister.
“I apologize, my Lord, your sister came unannounced and didn’t want to wait.” Lucienne announced, short breaths leaving her form after chasing his sister.
Morpheus’s eyes didn’t stop reading the book, clearly not seeing how distress his sister was. “Do not worry Lucienne, you can leave us.”
Lucienne watched him for a few seconds before nodding, “Of course, my Lord.” She hesitated before leaving them (and Matthew how was now comfortably sitting on his boss head.)
“I am surprised to have you here, sister.” He greeted her, “It is unusual of yourself to come unannounced, everything alright?”
“You have a date with Cupid.” She simply stated, watching how he turned the page around and continue reading it, no paying attention to her and the urgency of that sentence.
“Yes, I believe I do.” Morpheus simply stated. Clearly not seeing the problem at hand.
Death incredulously laughed and Morpheus’s eyes finally turned to her, clearly now having his full attention. “You must be joking, little brother.”
His face tilted in question, “Joking? When have I ever joke, my sister?”
They stared at each other.
“I believe you don’t understand how incredible ridiculous this is, Dream!” She began climbing the stairs. “This is complete madness, Dream, even for you.”
“Explain your reasonings.”
“Oh my…you are really serious.” Death’s mouth opened in shock. “Dream…little brother, you need to cancel it, you must cancel it! You have no idea what are you going into.”
Morpheus closed your book and placed it on the ground with care before appearing in front of his sister, saying nothing. “What are your reasonings, sister.”
“She’s the Goddess of Love! You have any idea how bad this is going to end? Do you?” Death grabbed his shoulders, shaking him a little. “You have to cancel it.”
“Nothing you have said told me why should I cancel it.”
Death gasped incredulously, beginning to pace around the room, her hands grabbing her hair, tugging at it. “I knew you were an idiot but this is beyond madness Dream, she’s Cupid, she’s what helps the world go peaceful when she is happy, you’ve seen her angry, you’ve seen how everything collapses when she gets her heart broken…She took a two months’ vacation and the world was in complete chaos! That should be good enough reasons to cancel the date!”
“No.”
“No?”
“I do believe I have said that sister.” Morpheus pushed past her towards the doors, he felt her following to the outside. Some dreams and nightmares left quickly after seeing how mad his sister was.
“Cancel it.” She demanded with force.
“Why should I?” Morpheus asked again, Death grabbed his arm and turned him to face her.
“She is the personification of obsessive and madness love, Dream. If she becomes obsessed with you, there would be no power from anyone that could help you. Not even any of our other siblings could help you.”
Morpheus hummed quietly, his eyes meeting hers, for a moment, a quick moment, Death hoped he would accept and move on. “The answer is no, sister.”
“Dream, no, I’m not asking you again, I’m now demanding you to cancel this date. Cupid is not forgiving little brother and if you continue with this…this…with whatever this is, then story will repeat itself and you will become the new Psyche.”
“Do not compare me…”
“Well it looks like you are willingly happy to go there Dream!”  Death was now mad, she hit his shoulder with force. Morpheus said nothing in return, not wanting to escalate this beyond what it already was. “I guess you really want that Cupid-Psyche story to happened again!”
“I do not want…”
“It appears you do Dream! You should have said no! When Cupid asks you something, the answer it’s always no!”
“What would be so outrageous if I accept her advances?” He simply asked, wanting nothing more than for her to leave the Dreaming.
“Yes it would, don’t get me wrong, I am happy you that you want to try again to find love but going out with Cupid is accepting a nightmare, brother. She will demand your attention, your love, everything you have, to her you will become everything and she will hope the same.”
“Why should I look other way besides her sister?”
Death groaned in annoyance. “I forgot how stubborn you were with this, I’m going to put it simply so you can get it on that thick skull of yours. This is what you are going to do, okey? You are going to nicely cancel your date with her, if Cupid decides to be angry, then I’ll come in and help defuse her anger.”
“I believe I have not made myself clear sister, I will not cancel my meeting with cupid, and I would be grateful if you keep these comments within yourself.”
“Dream.” Death tiredly said.
“It is time for you to leave dear sister, I hate fighting with you but I will if I must, this is my domain and you come here to defy me?” Morpheus was now annoyed and angry. Their surroundings became darker and before his sister opened her mouth she disappeared from the Dreaming.
Matthew landed at his feet, watching him curiously, “Oh wow, you really vanish her didn’t you boss?”
“Do not test me Matthew, I am not calm for your sarcastic comments.”
“Yeah, I can see that, but maybe your sister is a bit right.” Matthew softly caw, beginning to fly around him.
“Matthew.” Morpheus warned.
“No, listen boss,” Matthew ignored his anger. “You are indeed going with the Goddess of Love, she’s the definition of love, you know how many movies are made thanks to her and her ideas with love?” He asked and received no answer from Morpheus so he continued. “You need to put a bit more into it boss, woo her boss.”
“Explain yourself, Matthew.” Morpheus’s attention was completely on his companion.
“She’s love right?” Morpheus slightly nodded. “And probably she’s seen everything that the others do to romance someone, right?” Matthew didn’t let him answer. “I would say do something more exciting but that might be a problem because well, you are not a chatty person boss.”
Morpheus closed his eyes exhausted.
“I know! If you want to impress her boss, then you have to go out of your comfort zone, so I would say, take her to a nice place for a nice dinner and force yourself to say more than two words and a few sounds!” Matthew said excitingly. “That would sure conquer her heart!”
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  And that is why Morpheus was sitting on an uncomfortable booth waiting for your arrival, he was completely annoyed at how many times the waiter came to ask for his order, it was painfully clear how his attempts of flirting with him was.
“It’s been a few minutes love, I don’t think she is coming.” The waiter told him for the seventeenth time. His fingers graced against his coat and Morpheus was trying to not get angry at his advances and angry at you for making him for his lost time.
“Well, it was only ten minutes that I was late and you are annoying my date…Luke.” You grabbed his shoulder, making him turn to you.
Luke’s eyes scanned you and laughed at your choice of clothes, yeah, you came in with a black dress with yellow ducks and yellow tights, so what? You were happy with your choices and you dressed for yourself and for Morpheus.
“Something funny, Luke?” You tightly smiled, “Are you laughing at my face?”
“Oh honey.” He shook his head before turning away, you didn’t let him, your hand grabbing his arm with force, he tried to shook you off but couldn’t.
“It’s sad that you have the guts to flirt on my face.” Your other hand grabbed the side of his face, forcing him close to yours, your noses touched and he saw something on your eyes. “I’m going to tell you what would I do if I were you, I would make sure that this specifically date goes smooth, that everything goes within his plan.” Your hand force his head to look at Morpheus who was sitting watching you curiously. “And then, I would make sure that I was happy all the duration of this date.” You force him to look at you again. “I want a sprite with strawberries, few ice. Thank you.”
You pushed him and watched with a happy smile how he quickly made his way to the back of the place, your hands smoothen your dress before sitting at his side, you rested your head on your hand, smiling at him.
“Sorry for being late,” You sighed tiredly, “I was on my way here, I was almost two hours early! I swear! But there is this couple that are planning their wedding and both of them are disasters and needed my help so badly and I got distracted and I’m so so sorry Morpheus.” You grabbed his hand, squeezing it softly.
“Do not worry Eros.” Morpheus squeeze your hand in return, your smile widened and he took a mental note to thank Matthew for his tips on flirting. “And if you wish to speak about the reasons for your lateness, I will gladly listen.”
You laughed, playfully pushing his shoulder with yours. “It’s Cupid silly and if you really want to know I’ll tell you.”
And you began talking, you told him about Archie Bodycomb and Rachel Cobbledick, two people who were born with two left feet and bad luck at their sides, you told him about how they decided to just go on a date without planning and that resulted in Archie getting stuck on a child’s swing. You laughed at how Rachel tried to help by running towards a store and buying some butter and rubbing it on top of his jeans, ruining them in the process.
Morpheus wasn’t paying so much attention at your rambling, focusing on other things, like your movements, your laugh, how your hands hit him softly when you got excited on one of your stories, he saw how you got quieter when the waiter came with your drink, not meeting any of your eyes. He let you order for both of you, saying that you knew what he would like and he nodded in response when the waiter looked at him, his eyes were hopeful for him to shut you up.
“That would be all Luke! Remember the order, that’s how we want it to start.” You handed him the menu. “And I would be happy if you didn’t look at him, he’s mine for tonight, you hear me?”
Luke didn’t responded, opting for just leaving you two alone, on his mind, he was still hoping for Morpheus to leave you there alone. You were crazy.
“He is so thirsting over you so bad,” You gagged, “You wouldn’t believe what he was thinking about.”
Morpheus became curious, “Can you read his mind?” He asked curiously.
“Well yeah.” You nodded, blinking in amusement at his question. “It comes with the job, when you are the definition of love then you need to see and hear everything around them, it becomes annoying sometimes but amazing on other times.”
“Fascinating.”
“You think so?” You grabbed his hands, holding them closer to your chest, “I can do a lot of stuff, you know? Like going everywhere around the world in a blink of an eye, and I know every single human and other amazing stuff that I will happily tell you if you want me to.”
“I would like to know them.”
“No! No, I talk long enough, you should tell me about yourself, I feel the only things I know about you are because of Death and Desire, also all your relationships, again, sorry about them.”
“There is not much to know.” Morpheus stated, this time he was not meeting your gaze.
“What? Morpheus,” Your hands softly turned his face to yours, “if I didn’t find you interesting, I would never asked you for this date, come on! Tell me something.”
Morpheus stared at you before telling you about his life, he started from the very beginning, he told you about his failed romances, even though you already knew them, he told you about his imprisonment, about his quest for the missing tools. He told you that he felt something was missing even though he acquired his power back, and you listened. Your eyes completely absorbed on his words and he felt a pressure he didn’t know he had lift off his shoulders.
The food arrived quickly and neither of you glanced at the waiter, you were to absorbed on each other to notice his leave.
“You know why I always love eating sweet things?” You asked him, munching on a grape. He nodded without words. “There was a time, really long before this, when the Gods ruled the world. I had this small group of believers who truly trusted me, they often let me little altars with sweet stuff…I missed them.
Morpheus offered you another grape and you let him feed you. “What is it like now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Not having the same number of believers?”
You frowned, “Well.” You paused, nodding when you had your answer. “I would say is hard but to be honest I am grateful, it could be worse.” You shrugged. “I heard that there are some Gods and Goddess that ended up worse. I do have a lot of job though, people love to be in romantic relationships, but trust me, I do enjoy my work…Do you?”
“Do I?” Morpheus repeated.
“Do you enjoy doing your job?” You asked curiously. “I love my job and I have so many stories that always brightened my day yet sometimes is just too much to handle.”
Morpheus stayed quiet.
“So, do you enjoy your job?” You asked again.
“I do…but…” He didn’t ended his sentence but you nodded anyway. Grabbing his hand once again.
“I know.” You whispered. You glanced at the table, still full-on food. “Do you want to walk a for a bit? We could asked for everything to go, there’s a park near, we could go there…maybe make out a bit, who knows.” You shrugged.
“Do you wish to?”
“Hm?” You turned to him.
“Do you wish to…make out with me?”
“Fuck yeah.” You stood up. “Waiter! Waiter, put everything to go quickly!” You turned to Morpheus. “I’m making out with you so hard you have no idea.”
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 “Sooo…I heard something quite interesting today sweet, sweet Cupid.” Desire took a sip of his tea. “I heard a tiny, little comment from my sister.”
You hummed, completely absorbed in putting sugar on your tea, at this point it was more sugar than liquid. “You have a lot of sisters, Desire, you have the one with the shoes, the other one, the one with the cute hair, but you also have a lot of brothers! There is the one that does that thing, and the other one that does the other thing, also the other other one!”
Desire looked unimpressed, “Sometimes I wonder if you are faking that or you truly don’t remember us.”
You shrugged, taking a sip of your tea, making a disgusted face, “Needs more sugar, miss waitress!” You motioned to come closer when she looked at your direction. “Hi, hello, could we get more sugar? Thank you!”
“Babe, that is more sugar than tea.”
“Well, it still taste sour and that is disgusting. But yeah, I really don’t remember your siblings, I remember you because we are almost always together.” You smiled, grabbing a few cookies. “So, what did you hear?”
Desire teasingly smiled, “Well, Death told me…you remember Death, right?”
“Death…Death…Death…” Your finger tapped your lips, “Nope, doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Really?” You nodded, Desire sighed. “Curly hair? Black pants? Black shirt?”
“Nope.”
“Curly hair?”
“Nope.”
“You are unbelievable.” Desire took their phone out, furiously searching through the photographs, they smiled in victory, giving you the phone. “Now you remember?”
You took the phone, looking at the girl on the picture. You laughed in delight. “Oh! Yeah! I so know her! She does have great taste in shoes.”
“Huh, she does have great taste in shoes.”
“What about her? You were clearly saying she told you something, is it gossip? Oh, it is! About whom?!”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Desire smiled cheekily.
“Yes, I would like to know, that’s why I’m asking?” You told him confused, taking the sugar packets the waitress handed you. Starting to pour all of them to your cup.
“You will die with a sugar overdose one of these days babe.”
“Meh.” You taste your tea again, moaning in happiness with the flavor. “You would miss me too much if I die silly, you probably cry and you don’t look sexy crying.”
Desire gasped offended, grabbing your hand and slapping it softly. “I do take offense with that sentence, everything I do is sexy.”
“Meh.”
“You are doing this in purpose, aren’t you?”
“Yep.”
“You ass.”
“Yep.”
“Stop trying to change the subject!” Desire grabbed your cup, “Death told me that you went out on a date with that pathetic brother of mine, and before you are going to say ‘Desire, you have a lot of siblings’ once again, it’s Morpheus,” You opened your mouth. “Nope! Morpheus, Dream of Endless, king of dreams and nightmares, the pessimist ass of this family.”
“Yeah, we went on a date, doesn’t talk much but he’s cute.”
“Baby, I love you so much and I would never die for you, but really?” Desire looked disgusted. “You deserve someone better than him.”
“Like…”
“I don’t know, I’m always questioning your type, but look, I don’t think you should go on a second date with him?”
You frowned, trying to take back your tea, “Why?” You asked, “Did Death say something about that? And don’t you dare lie to me, we are friends, don’t push that.”
Desire sighed, “Yeah, she did mention something about that.”
You stood up angrily, “What did she said?”
“I’m not looking to start drama…”
You looked at him quietly before nodding to yourself, you walked towards the waitress, whispering on her ear before she began everyone to leave, the people were angry but one look at you and decided that it wasn’t worth watching whatever you will do. You walked towards the door, closing it softly, putting the close sign on.
“I will only ask once again, Desire of Endless.” Desire jaw tensed, there was only one time he watched your anger in full display. “What did your sister said?”
“Well…”
“I am not longer in the mood.”
“Fine, she told me she thought you were a tiny bit obsessed when it comes with loving someone and well, she was quite worried about our stupid brother.”
“I see, it would be better if both of whom are we speaking of are present, don’t you think?” You didn’t wait for Desire to answer, your fingers snaping loudly.
The lights flickered wildly, Desire sighed once again, clearly annoyed with your mood changing. Death appeared sitting next to Desire, Morpheus sitting in front of them, both clearly confused at the action, they saw you glancing the door.
“Wha…? Cupid?” Death stood up, not noticing how Desire’s eye where glued to the table. Morpheus sat there quietly, looking around the empty café. You were angry.
“Eros.” You corrected her, finally turning to face them. “I believed we were friends, Death of Endless, I believed I treated you with kindness and you dare to speak ill of me?” Your eyes were flickering with a bright pink.
“Cupid.” Morpheus joined his sister side, not moving fast to not provoke you. “What is the meaning of this?”
Your eyes turned to Morpheus, your anger not appeasing. “Tell him what you told Desire.” You commanded Death, “Tell him the truth.”
“Cupid, that is enough.” Morpheus firmly told you, taking a step towards you.
“No, tell him, Death of Endless, tell your brother what you said before.”
Death sighed, “He already knows what I told Desire.”
“He…knew?” You blink in confusion. “And he did not told me?”
Morpheus grabbed your hands. “It was not necessary as my intentions were always to continue seeing you.”
“Why did they tell you that?” Your focus was on him, “Why are they so afraid of a relationship that hasn’t had happened.”
“Look Cupid.” You turned towards Death angrily, she backtracked a bit, correcting how she addressed you, Desire standing by her side. “Eros, we really care about Dream.”
“No, we don’t.” Death hit Desired harshly.
“As I said, we do care about him and we didn’t want him to be…you know…”
“No, I do not know.” You answered tightly, taking away your hands from Morpheus’s grasp, you walked towards Death and her eyes glued to the ground. “What are you trying to say?”
“Sweetie, we didn’t want another Psyche story to happen, I love you too much but when she divorced you, you became quite annoying.” Desired answered for Death.
Perhaps it was the crudest way to tell you why they were so against of you going out with their brother. Perhaps it was the way that Morpheus couldn’t look at your eyes, maybe he was also thinking that, maybe he didn’t want to be the new Psyche, but why did he accepted your invite? But that was when you remember, you invited him yet you didn’t let him answer you.
“You think…” You began, your voice cracking, Morpheus took a step to you but you took one back. “You think I would hurt him?”
“Yes.” Death softly replied. Morpheus looked at her, his face was hard.
“You don’t even know the story.” You quietly said, your arms hugged your form. “Nobody knows the true story.”
“But that doesn’t mean anything sweetie,” Desire said, their eyes turning soft at your broken form. “Yes, Dream is an idiot and he proudly shows it, but dating you, that would just be mad even for him.”
“Do not speak for…”
“It is true though.” Death interrupted her brother, grabbing his arm and dragging him between her and Desire’s side. “We love you, but you don’t have a great track record with this stuff.”
“Let’s call her then,” You said, your eyes watching them with hate, your fingers snap once again.
A beautiful woman appeared, her body and hair covered with flour and frosting, clearly she was in the middle of something, her eyes looked quickly at the ones at the store, taking a step back when they landed on you.
“Hello Psyche, it’s been a while.” You greeted her, your voice without emotion. “Let me introduce you to them. Meet the Endless, Death, Desire and Dream, your fans, apparently the are on your side even without hearing the complete story.”
“Eros.” Psyche greeted you, her head nodding at the direction of the other three. “You always had a bad time with our meetings.”
You sarcastically laughed, “Yeah, guess I do, you are here for only one reason, take it seriously or you will face a worst faith than my wrath.”
“I see you never changed, what can I do for you?”
“Tell them our story and don’t look for sympathy, you deserve nothing.”
“Always the charmer.” Psyche told you with sarcasm, she turned to the other three. “Well, she met me a long time ago, when she was a man, we fell in love and then we had a fight and we are trying to move forward with our relationship. But Eros is still a bit adamant in not going to therapy. And that’s it.”
You threw a table across the room, the Endless looked at you in shock at your violence, they saw your anger but you never acted on it. Psyche just sighed and decided to sat down, she knew this would take more than a few minutes as your tantrum was just about to begin.
“You are forgetting a key part, my dear ex-wife.” You stood in front of her, your eyes were completely pink, Psyche swallowed, she now remembers what would happened if someone did something completely different on what you asked. “You forgot how you begged me to let you be close to Zeus, you forgot how you became pregnant with his seed and not mine, how you lied to my face, saying they were mine, how you let me held my children, you forgot to said how Zeus came to our home and demanded what was his, that you willingly went at his side, even when I beg for your stay, and when you returned broken how he left you for another one. I needed you by my side, you were my heart, you were my air and you still left me there.”
“Eros.” Psyche whispered.
“You forgot your lies, my dear ex-wife, you forgot how you took my love for granted, you forgot how you had me on my knees for you, I would have given up my life and my immortality at your wish, you forgot how you had me my love, I would have gone to Hades realm at your wish, I would have enter war at your command, I would had made for you a realm only for you to be a queen. You had me Psyche and you threw me away for the highest power.”
“I never wanted Zeus, I was blind my love, I was at my youth and was foolishly thinking nonsense…I always wanted you Eros.” Psyche stood up, her hands cradling your face with tenderness. Morpheus took a step forward, Death and Desire grabbed his arms and force him to stay still. “My heart was yours and it still is, my love.”
“Lies.” You whispered against her lips, not daring to break the space. “You are a liar, you are not to be trusted.”
“Yes I can, I love you Eros,” She kissed your cheek. “This has been too long, I miss your touch but I am willingly wait for you to accept me back.”
You swallowed painfully, “Ask Zeus for it.” You snap your fingers and she disappeared in a pink blink. “You now know the truth.” You turned to them, ignoring how Morpheus was trying to break free. “You are like her, liars. Liars do not deserve my love. Do not look for me, as now you will face her punishment. You will never see me again.” And you disappear.
“Well, that was something.” Death hit Desire once again.
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 “Rachel, you totally deserve someone better than Archie, he’s an idiot and her mother is crazy.” You were sitting on her couch, softly patting her back as she was ugly-crying looking at her phone, she didn’t knew you were there but you were giving her some support. “And breaking someone over a text? He sucks.”
Rachel truly believed that Archie was the one, and to be honest it was kinda your fault that the world was going into fire for a second time this year. But you had an excuse, you were truly believing that you and Morpheus would had something special and he was willingly accepting your pace. But siblings suck and you could help to think that one day he would just simply lie like Psyche did.
You sighed, moving the tissues closer to a broken Rachel, still telling her that Archie was a mistake, hoping that she would hear your words and take them as if you were her conscious.
The sound of a raven’s caw distracted you, your eyes watching the tiny window, you swore that the raven was looking at you intently and motion you to go outside. You were beginning to go crazy.
You closer your eyes, trying to ignore the immense curiosity of what the raven wanted to show you, you hated yourself as you gave a last pat on Rachel’s back and went out looking for your possible new friend.
“Raven? New friend?” You called out for the raven, your voice not so energetic as before.
Everything about you was dull, it was like you didn’t believed in love anymore. This wasn’t like the Psyche situation, this was new, you were not angry, you were sad and depressed, even your clothes has lost your sense, you were wearing a simple pair of jeans and a hoodie, you were so sad that you couldn’t take the time to dress.
“Raven, where are you? If you don’t come here, well I will go inside, Rachel is starting her sad movie marathon and I want to be there when she starts cursing at the hot actor.”
Two pair of hands grabbed your shoulders, you screamed and it wasn’t your proudest moment, you turned and there he was, beautiful and perfect, like the last time you saw him.
“Morpheus?!” You almost hit him on the face, “Don’t do that! I almost killed you!”
“Cupid.”
“It’s Eros, you stop having access to my other name after what happened.” You tried to shake off his hands, but he was putting enough pressure to having you trapped under his grasp. “Would you mind? I am quite busy.”
“You stopped doing your duties, Cupid.” He ignored your offended face, “You stopped me from seeing you.”
“Well, I was just granting your sister’s wish you know, so your welcome, now let me go, I want to stuff my face with popcorn, Rachel is an eater so I have to be fast.”
“My sister has no right to ask on my name.” He snarled, his hands cradling your face, they held if softly and with a quick movement, you could be free but you let him touch you. “You forbidden me to let me see you.”
“Well, you’re welcome, now stop flirting with me with your sexy deep voice, I have things to do…”
“For example?”
You grabbed his wrists, just holding them, not moving them. “Eat, I’m depressed if you hadn’t…”
“I notice, you are not wearing your colorful clothing.” He told you softly.
“You noticed that?” You whispered.
“I always notice, even if you did not let me see you.”
You bit your lip, shaking your head you pushed his hands away from your face and began walking away from him. “It’s better if you leave, your family doesn’t like me, and they’re right, I will demand too much from you, and I don’t think you are ready for that.”
Morpheus appeared at your front, making you crash on his chest, he held you again, his arms tightening around your form. “Do not speak for myself.”
“Well, do what I ask then.” You tried to break from his grasp once again. “Plus, you didn’t said a thing or looked for me, your interest didn’t show up.”
“I was respecting your wishes, stop moving, you will hurt yourself.” He grunted.
“Well, I like the pain and I like to be free so shoo, let me go, you are making a scene!” You exclaimed, your eyes finally finding the raven, “Bird, help me!”
“Matthew only responds to my command.” Morpheus whispered on your ear.
“You told him to spy me!”
“Well, I’m sorry miss, but orders are orders.” Matthew hopped closer to you, at this point you let your body go lack, hoping that Morpheus would get tired and drop you. He didn’t, Matthew was trying so hard not to laugh at both of your faces. “But if I were you, I would listen to boss, he became really mopey and depressed when you guys broke off.”
“We didn’t break off!”
“We do not broke off.”
Both of you exclaimed at the same time, you paused when you realized what you screamed, you didn’t break off but you weren’t together. Your eyes glanced at his face, he was looking at you, you could see the pouting on his mouth, his brows furrowed and the sadness on his eyes.
“Think about this for a second Morpheus.” He almost purred at the sound of his name, Matthew would have so much material to gossip around that he decided to stay quiet. “I am Cupid, I will demand your love for me and only me, are you okey with that?”
“I would like nothing more.” He brought your faces closer, his lips caressing yours, not fully touching, “Give me an opportunity to prove it to you.”
You stared at his eyes, you could see the tiny stars that they held. Your hands rested on his chest and you felt his heart. “It beats for you.” He whispered once again.
“Really?” You tried to close the gap but he didn’t let you.
“Yes.”
Morpheus pushed his lips against yours, your kiss was desperate, you grabbing everything you could, his hair, his face, his neck. He held you closer to his body, humming at your warm touch, he missed you even if your relationship wasn’t even started, his thoughts were filled by you and even the dreams were a prove to that.
He let you go softly, you trying to kissed him again but he only have you a final peck full of love and admiration. “I believe we should marry.”
You stared at him surprised.
Matthew began hopping rapidly towards you, his voice full of shock. “Boss?! That’s too soon! We talked about this!”
“Oh silly, we do not need a wedding.” You laughed at his heartbroken face and Matthews cry. “I am the Goddess of Love, if you want, we could just start saying we are married!”
Morpheus smiled, kissing you again.
“That’s not how it works!” Matthew exclaimed.
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“Where is he?!” You entered the library in hurry. “We are so late!”
Lucienne was startled at your presence, the book at her hands dropped to the floor. “It’s good to see you, my lady, are you looking for the dream lord?”
“Yes!” You stressed, “We are so late, Lucienne! There is late and fashionable late, and we are the first one!”
Lucienne watched you pace around the library, she saw your attired and knew that this was important to you, you were wearing a formal attire, completely different from your usual outfits. Your hair was also stylized different, opting for a simple ponytail that was moving wildly at your crazy steps.
“Hey Cupid, looking fancy, going somewhere?” Matthew landed on a table, he watching your dress. “Love the dress, are those stars?”
You stopped, turning to the raven, you smiled with nervousness but still turning around to let him see your dress. “Yes! Morpheus wanted to match but didn’t tell me to what! I had to take a wild guess and now here I am, completely nicely dress, looking so good and he’s nowhere in sight! We are so late Matthew! I’m this close to leaving his ass and going to this wedding on my own…You hear me Morpheus! I’m going alone! I’m going to drink my ass off and flirt with all the single best men!”
Lucienne averted her eyes when she saw an angry dream lord, turning away quickly.
You turned when you felt his hands on your back, your arms crossed and a glare on your face. “We are so late mister. We are so late that probably they have already said yes and we missed it.”
“Apologies.” He offered you his arm. “We are still hours earlier, my love.”
“For you is early, but for me? Morpheus, I am Cupid, I need to be at this wedding.” He kissed your cheek softly, guiding you through the palace with ease. “You think only with one kiss you can win me over?”
“I have already won you over, my dear.” He cheekily smiled. You punch his shoulder.
“Oh, you might have won me over, but making me late for a wedding? It would take more than one kiss to appease my anger.”
“Yes?” Morpheus began pushing you towards a wall, “What should I do then?”
“Stop flirting with me! We are so late!” You dragged him to the door, he happily following you without a word.
 The wedding was a disaster and you were beyond stressed, Archie was late, Rachel broke her heels walking down the aisle, the paster dropped the bible. Someone’s phone rang. But they managed to say yes, even though the sound of the mics were off a good chunk of the wedding.
Morpheus didn’t wanted to dance but you force him, threatening him to disappear if he didn’t dance with you.
“It was not a disaster.” He muttered on your hair. “They look happy.”
Your eyes turned to the now-married couple who was dancing on the center of the floor. Archie was smiling so hard even with the dark eye he was wearing. Rachel was the same, she had a bruise on her cheek after she tried to take the mic from her new mother-in-law.
“It could be better.”
“It could, but for them, it already is.” He kissed your hair softly. You hummed in delight.
“Thank you for coming with me.” You whispered on his neck, leaving a quick kiss on it. “And I’m sorry I was such a sucker for weddings.”
He hummed, kissing the side of your head. “I would have come even if you never asked.”
“There’s something on your mind, you are quieter than usual and you are grasping quite hard at my waist.”
“Apologies.”
“Why? You know your hands does things to me, babe, manhandle me, it’s such a turn on.” You smiled at the shook on his face. He frowned.
“You are right.” He quietly said. “There is something on my mind.”
“Hm? What is it…Come on! Tell Cupid what can she do to help you, you hotshot.” You playfully winked at him. Morpheus tried to suppressed his smile.
“I want a wedding. I want a reminder that you became mine, I want to be able to a day for us.”
“Morpheus.”
“Choose a day.” He kissed you softly. “Choose a day so you can be mine and I can be yours.”
You nodded, “Alright, I’ll choose a day.”
“Thank you.” He kissed you.
“You know what we should do?”
“What?” He whispered against your lips, his eyes closing in content.
“We should totally have a celebratory-fuck on the bathroom.”
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hunny-beann · 4 months
Text
You Can; You Will...
Dream of the Endless x f!Reader
Note: Hi! This is my first time ever writing for Dream, so if anything seems a bit off or if there are any minor lore issues, please do your best not to pay them too much mind (although absolutely feel free to point them out). That said, I had a lot of fun writing this fic, and I really hope that you enjoy it!
Warnings: Uh angst(?), is Dream himself a warning? Because he should be.
Word Count: 2,644
This had to be torture, surely.
Some evil method of malice created by some long forgotten god of pain.
Why else would Dream have been looking at you so?
Here, sitting in his rotting throne room, upon his crumbling dais, his expression as close to pained as you had ever seen it before.
"You have returned."
He stated matter of factly, though his eyes betrayed the solemn tone that his voice held.
It had hurt him to come back to his realm and find that you had gone with the others, more so than you ever could have anticipated or imagined. You could see it in the way that his fingers gripped at the arm rests beneath them, and in the way that his all encompassing presence seemed to shrink slightly, as if the very particles of him and his power that made up the world beneath your feet were attempting to flee from you.
You swallowed thickly, but managed a nod in spite of your nerves and the heavy weight that bore down upon your heart at the sight of the being before you.
"I have. I did not anticipate it, but I found that I was suddenly overcome with the urge to..."
The words 'go home' died upon your lips before you could say them, because in truth, you were not entirely sure if this realm truly was home anymore, not just for you, but to anything besides the endless sitting before you and his most loyal of dreams and nightmares.
His own creations.
Dream let out a soft hum in response to your words, before he carefully rose into a standing position, his coat swishing at his feet in that familiarly dramatic way that you remembered so painfully at present, and had once recalled so fondly in the past.
Now though, after over a century of having it as only a memory, a longing lodged deep within the confines of your soul, you found that it almost hurt to bear witness to his familiarities again.
You had buried the Morpheus you had once known in all ways but the physical sense, mourned and grieved him as if you had watched his demise with your own two eyes, never having a day pass you by where you did not think of him and the way that his voice had sounded, or that his hands had felt.
And now, he was standing before you so casually, and you could not help but view this figure before you as a caricature, some imposter sent to cause you even more pain than you had already endured.
Being an immortal human was a burden in and of itself, because it meant watching nearly all those that you loved die in the span of a lifetime, which to you, had long since started to feel like nothing in the grand scheme of things.
You had begged Death to take this weight from you, to let time have its way with your body, bones, and soul, but Destiny had seen to it that his sister knew better than to meddle with this particular affair.
A long dead family member had blessed you with what they perceived to be a "gift" long ago.
And now, you suffered while they lay buried in the ground in lands you had not seen nor touched in centuries.
So, once upon a time, Dream had meant everything to you.
Ever since the day you had met him, after once again grovelling with Death to let you go, he had become abundantly special in your eyes.
Because unlike almost everyone else around you, Dream could not die, not from the ticking of any clock, nor the feebleness of his own body.
He was the one thing you believed to be permanent.
And certainly, it had taken quite a while to warm up to the man, and far longer still for him warm up to you, but after enough impromptu meetings in Death's domain over multiple centuries, he had eventually indulged you when you asked hesitantly if you could see his realm, 'the dreaming' as he so fondly referred to it, for yourself.
And oh, what a sight it had been.
Lush rolling lands, fields upon fields of flowers, a palace so tall it seemed possible to view it from miles and miles away...
You had never wanted to leave.
And eventually, you would not have to anymore.
Not after you had fled to the dreaming after losing your very best friend to disease, her death so dirty and without dignity that you could scarcely bare to even consider it.
He had sensed your arrival, of course he had, for the realm was made of the very power that he possessed, but he had not sensed your woes, nor had he anticipated your sudden presence in his crowded throne room, searching for any familiar face that might serve as a reminder that you were not without some semblance of certainty, to prove if nothing else that you were not yet alone.
You had all but collapsed at the foot of his throne, eyes bloodshot and cheeks wet with tears as you regarded him with a pain he was all too familiar with, but had no clue how to comfort you about.
Loss.
'I can't do it anymore.'
You had told him with absolute certainty, hands clenched into fists as you struggled to hold back sobs,
'I can't endure this torture, I feel as if I have died a thousand deaths without ever having experienced even one.'
Morpheus reached forward, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, before he sat back once more, taking note of the way that, simply due to his touch alone, you were now giving him your entirely undivided attention, breaths shaky but eyes wide and trained on him, as if you had never been touched before, or maybe as if you had never expected him to touch you in the eternity that you would experience.
'You can.'
He said, voice steady and eyes cold, though almost determined looking as he spoke.
'You will.'
You felt your eyebrows crease at his words, but Dream simply shook his head slightly before you could even open your mouth to reply.
He watched you for a few moments, before finally, he decided that enough silence had passed.
'If it is easier, you may remain in the dreaming as long as you please. All I ask, is that you do not make me regret my kindness.'
Shocked, you had nodded, before finally mustering up the strength to respond.
'But why?'
You had asked, watching as the being sitting before you sighed, his gaze traveling up toward the ceiling as he spoke,
'You will not have to watch nearly as many crumble to dust here in my domain, and I can see the toll that your immortality is taking on your feeble human mind. My sister has taken a liking to you, and I do not doubt that she would want me to take pity upon your unfortunate circumstances. To preserve someone she calls a friend, I will allow you to reside here until you give me a reason not to.'
And you never had.
For so very long now, hundreds upon hundreds of years, you had remained almost entirely within the dreaming.
You had friends here, nightmares and dreams alike, although truthfully, none captured your attention in the way that Morpheus did.
And none captured his nearly as much as you somehow managed to.
You were close, bound by some firm understanding of one another that never ceased to solidify the fact that the dreaming was your home, the place where you belonged, and Dream the very host that so effortlessly kept you rooted.
Before, there had been almost nothing for you in the way of consistency or rhythm, and now, there was an ebb and flow, a push and pull, a beat to follow, and the biggest surprise of all was that you made up half of each of these things.
Where Dream would ebb, you would flow, where he would push, you would pull, and you so very easily followed along with and eventually even progressed and changed his rhythm in a way that almost made the dreaming feel as if it had two rulers.
The dream lord,
And his once missing other half, the muse of the very land beneath your feet, and of the wind within your hair.
Until one day, that all came to an end.
The king of dreamers left and did not return.
And you could not even dare try and pick up the pieces of his realm that he left behind.
It had been a shameful abandonment, one full of pain and grief, but only a few short years after Dream's disappearance, you grabbed the scarce few items that did not remind you of him or the family that you were leaving behind, and you vanished just as he had done.
At that point, the slow but sure crumbling of the dreaming had only just begun, but your cowardice had won out over your strength, and you'd quickly found that you could not bare to see it shrink into nothingness.
'You can.'
Dream had once told you.
'You will.'
He had assured.
But you could not this time.
You likely would not ever again.
You were not the first to leave the dreaming, not by a long shot.
But your absence and the meaning that it carried rang out loud and clear for all of those who had chosen to remain.
The once so honored and beloved guest of their lord of dreams had chosen her painful mortal world over anything that the realm had left to offer...
And for many, that was all the proof that they needed that their creator would not return.
You were far from the first to leave.
But you were even further from the last.
"Did you lose faith in me?"
Dream asked suddenly, and you felt yourself gasp slightly at the question.
Lose faith in him?
Was that what you had done?
With almost no consideration for the question, you shook your head.
"No."
You said firmly, watching as the endless in front of you tilted his head ever so slightly, his eyes boring into your own even from across the room and down the ruined steps,
"Never."
Morpheus took a few steps toward you, and almost instinctively, you moved to lessen the space that lay between before forcing yourself to stop, hands clenched into fists at your sides, the pain of seeing your friend, who you had believed to be dead just hours ago, too great even for longing to overcome.
Dream seemed to notice this, and stopped in his tracks, though he was now far closer than before, only a few short steps away.
"Then why did you leave so easily? Why did you abandon the life that I offered you here if you had the faith required to know that I would someday return to the dreaming? Return to you?"
Your breath shuddered at the implication that he had come back in any part for you, but you chose to ignore his words in favor of fighting off his accusations of faithlessness on your part.
"I left because I could not bear to see this world that you created fall apart around me while I did nothing. It felt as if I were watching another loved one die, and I could not deal after believing that someone had taken your life as well. I was hurting, and I found that it was easier to hurt in the waking world, where pain was familiar, than it was to hurt here, where it never seemed to bite so hard. That is why I left. But I never once lost faith in you."
Dream raised a brow at that last part, and you were quick, to clarify,
"I may have thought you dead, but I did not once believe that if you were alive, you would not come back. My belief that you were dead, my certainty in that regard, came from the immense faith that I have in you, Lord Morpheus, because I could not fathom that you ever could have abandoned us or the dreaming... After years, I ceased being capable of thinking that you were somewhere out there anymore. I did not think it possible for anything to bind you so tightly away from your duties, if not for death herself."
Dream stared back at you in response to your words, as if taking them in for several long moments, before finally he nodded,
"I see. Though I do wish you would have considered the fact that I never would have allowed myself to die knowing what I would be leaving behind."
You sighed exasperatedly,
"But we know that you would not be the first to abandon your post, my lord, not the first to leave something as fickle as your universe given duties behind. Who could have blamed you if you died in spite of these things if others were able to willingly leave them?"
Your voice was small and quiet as you spoke, unsure of how Dream might react to the mention of Destruction, even when the wound was not necessarily new anymore.
You watched as the being before you stiffened, his gaze growing ever so slightly colder, before he spun around and began making his way back toward his throne, his tone firm and serious as he replied, still facing away from you all the while.
"I was not speaking of my duties to the dreaming."
He stated simply, though you could tell by his cadence that his words were anything but.
You sighed, exasperated and fragile after all that had been said thus far,
"Well what else was it that you were leaving behind that was so important that I should have known it would keep you alive then, Dream?"
The lord of the dreaming locked eyes with you as you finished asking this question, cold piercing gaze filling you with a deep regret and an immense longing as he sat upon his throne once more, one long leg crossing over the other as he all but stared into your very soul.
"You."
He said simply, voice low and gaze unwavering as he spoke, watching as that one word alone sent you staggering several steps backward, one hand clutching lightly at your chest as your feeble human mind tried to comprehend all that had happened to you in this one day alone.
"Me?"
You whispered, voice echoing slightly throughout the empty throne room in spite of how quiet it was.
"But I am not-"
"You are everything."
Dream cut you off before you could finish, eyes still boring holes into your own as he continued to watch you from his seat, as if knowing that if he moved any closer now, that you would run, run and likely never return for fear of what any of this meant for you and for the once permanent seeming fixture that Dream had so easily played within your life for so long.
You floundered at those words, vision growing bleary and spotty as you turned to rush out of the room, to be anywhere but this pale comparison of the dreaming, the once beautiful world that you had known for so very long.
You fled your home with tears in your eyes and a hand at your heart.
Dream stayed where he sat upon his throne, and watched your fears consume you again until you faded from view.
He did not try to stop you.
A broken home like this was no place for a fragile soul like yours.
And he could offer you no better than the very world he had once so kindly rescued you from.
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gaypirate420 · 8 months
Text
Moonshine and Starlight //Dream*
Dream* of the Endless x witch!GN!reader.
Summary: Morpheus helps you sleep.
Angst/Fluff. Dream and Reader being divorced..
A/N: Probably ooc because I haven't written for my husband for so long.
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"What's the matter, Matthew?" The words of the King of Dreams echoed through the wide halls of the entrance to his palace.
The Dream Lord found his raven very busy in another matter, that being melting onto your touch while he nuzzled on your lap.
"We have a visitor, my lord." Was all the raven could respond as your gentle fingers brushed down the feathers of his head making him caw.
"Why are you here?" He asked not really knowing what tone should he use with you.
"I'm afraid I'm not here because I wanted to see you, but because I have a problem with dreams, my lord." You said mockingly as you caressed the feather's of the new raven before standing up and meeting his star filled eyes and long figure, those black ropes dripping down the marble floor.
"Enlighten me then. What kind of problems are dreams causing you, dream witch?" Morpheus muttered with the silky smooth voice that you adore, you took his arm and begin to walk, seeming so normal, muscle memory perhaps.
"It must be something important if it makes you come to my palace after two hundred years. Something that goes beyond the centuries of knowledge you possess." He spoke gently. You smirked and looked at him and although his gaze remained emotionless but you know when your ex-husband is teasing you.
"A client of mine. She's been having this— weird dreams about her family telling her very specific things." You explained as you begin to walk alongside the Endless, the night sky that lied above your head on the palace's ceiling captured your eyes.
You stoped for a moment to look at it, missing it's beauty.
"I've been looking inside her dreams, trying to decipher their meaning." You continues with a tone of slight frustration before meeting his gaze, noticing his starry eyes looking at your every moment.
"You came here just to ask the meaning of some mortal's dream?" Morpheus asked as his eyes took in your image, you smirked again and shaked your head.
"No. I don't give up that easily, Oneiros." You smirked with smugness, the Dream Lord mimicked your smirk.
"I never said you did. Why is it that you're here then, moonshine?" He asked as he walked you through to the large halls of the palace.
Moonshine, what a nickname to give someone, specially coming from the Lord of Dreams. The Endless that finds you as bright as the shine of the moon, a signal of light in darkness.
It's been so long since he's mutter such nickname.
"Well, It's been costing me my sleeping hours, but that's not new— the things is when I do sleep I have dreamless rest or the most horrible nightmares." You whispered, there was a linger of anger on your tone.
"I came here to ask you something, Dream."
"Ask away, moonshine."
"Have I done something wrong? Something to deserve this punishment, perhaps?" Your whispers makes him stop on his tracks, his eyes meet yours. The Lord of Dreams face had an expression one of confusion and deep sadness.
"Do you think that is my doing? You think of yourself worth of a punishment so severe?" He whispers back, his eyes looking at your tired eyes, the darks circles under them.
"Do you think I would do such thing as that to you?"
You stayed silent, looking away from his gaze. His pale hand cupped your cheek, you gasped and a silent tear fell down your cheek which was wiped by his thumb that consequently held your chin and make you meet his eyes once more.
"The answer is no. I am not punishing you because those night terrors that invade your sleep were not send by me, moonshine." He whispered with such conviction.
As in saying "Believe me. I could never harm you."
"And you have never wrong me nor this realm. You've been an impecable aid and- companion for me." He stated, you smiled and felt yourself blushing, a yawn scaped your lips and his gaze softened.
"Am I boring you, moonshine?" Morpheus smirked you looked at him with sleepy eyes.
"It's not my fault your voice is so comforting and I'm- exhausted for my work and the horrible sleep I've had." You explained before smiling.
"Comforting?" The Dream Lord asked, you nodded and looked up at him with a smile.
"Soothing. Perfect for listening while you fall asleep." You explained before yawning again.
Feeling his hand on the back of your neck and in a matter of second you were lied down on the softest of mattresses, resting your head on a pillow that could pass for a cloud.
You looked up and met the most beautiful night sky you've ever seen, pink and purple surrounded with constellations.
The bed itself was almost floating in between marble floors and the night sky.
This is the room of Dream of the Endless himself.
"Why are you not sleeping yet?" Morpheus's voice snap you back to reality, you meet his eyes that now shine with the reflections of the galaxy that surrounds you.
"I dunno, maybe you've lost your touch." You teased, The Dream Lord furrowed his eyebrows but his lips let out a soft chuckle.
"Perhaps you're just stubborn." He whispered while his slim finger caress your cheek, you leaned on his touch so quickly that it made you disappointed in yourself but it felt so good.
"Those nightmares won't bother you again, my moonshine." Morpheus stated as his fingers kept moving across your face with delicacy.
"Why am I in your room? There's like two hundred guest rooms." You asked as your eyes closed. Dream fell silent for a second.
"Because I- want you here." He started speaking so softly almost as if he was embarrassed to say it, you nodded for him to continue.
"Your precense on The Dreaming has been missed, the creatures of the dreaming had voiced that sentiment many times." The Endless continued, his mouth still slight open, you could picture him trying to find the right words.
You nodded once more, it always difficult for him to speak his emotions and needs.
"The haunted dolls of my shop miss you." You spoke sleepy, The Dream Lord arched his eyebrow and smirked as his hand moved to your hair, touching it with a hint of shyness, thinking if he's still allowed to do such motion. Afraid of crossing any lines or boundaries.
"The- dolls? Do you miss me, perchance?" He asked with a uncharacteristically shy and insecure voice, you opened your eyes.
"Do you, Oneiros? Or just the creatures of your realm?" You snapped back with a smirk. He leaned closer to you, the stars in his eyes shining bright, his thumb stroked your bottom lip as his eyes got lost on yours.
"Yes." Morpheus whispered with a discreet but playful smile once that 'yes' was heard by you.
"I do miss you, moonshine."
You closed your eyes once more after his words, so much sincerity and raw devotion within such a short sentence.
"I miss you too, starlight." You whispered back with a smile, Morpheus smirked and kept stroking your hair.
How has he missed that nickname.
A play of words with the one he has for you.
Starlight. The light of a start that accompanies the shining moon at night. He wonders how, of all things, you could see him as a star.
The drowsiness was unbearable now for you.
The last thing you felt before falling asleep was a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"Sleep well, moonshine." Morpheus whispered against your ear, making you fall into a deep and much needed rest, filled with the sweetest dreams one could imagine of.
And of course, The Dream king holding your hand all the time, supervising these dreams.
——————————————————————
A/N: Heyyyyyyy, it's been a while since I've wrote for my husband, ugh, I love him, I always enjoy writing for him, it just so right. Hope you liked this!
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paradiseinaverno · 2 years
Note
Reader is a human and is oblivious to Morpheus's feelings for her?!?
in your dreams
aka; gn!reader being completely oblivious to morpheus’ feelings
thank you for the ask ! as always, lowercase intended :)
headcanons, morpheus x constantine!reader, established contact, slight plot derision, heavy miscommunication (idiots in love basically), GENDER NOT SPECIFIED !
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oh you silly, oblivious fool. the both of you.
in fact, morpheus should become despair, and you? denial. utter delusion.
despite having strings of passionate love affairs, morpheus is perplexed by you. the seduction has never been hard for him, only the longevity. but he can’t even reach that.
he supposes he should be somewhat grateful, as he won’t come on too headstrong. on the other hand, however, he wonders exactly how much effort he has to put in to win you over. and morpheus has never shied away from a romantic pursuit, especially not when it involves his ego (which, in fairness, it always does), but you are…something else. that’s why he likes you. you’re so different from your sibling; where she’s perceptive, you practically live in daydreams.
and that is precisely where he begins his pursuit of you. in your dreams, as you say to him. morpheus begins by making everything softer, brighter. both you and your sister are chronic nightmare sufferers, as you’ve mentioned. so, unknown to you, he keeps nightmares at bay. not this time, he chides them. not this time.
it’s the first night you get a full eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.
you suspect it has something to do with him, but you brush it off as impersonal. even despite johanna’s prodding, you think it’s probably because the sand has been returned.
“i’m telling you jo, it’s nothing.”
“well he didn’t make my nightmares suddenly vanish. next time you see him, tell him i have a bone to pick with him.”
“there won’t be a next time!”
deep down, you hope there will be.
on the other hand, it’s been at least two weeks of pleasant dreams, and morpheus’ patience is wearing thin. surely for someone of your intelligence, you’d realise it has something to do with him? fine. maybe he just has to be more obvious.
he starts by physically appearing in your dream. slowly, though. tactfully. there’s roses along the meadow you’re dreaming of tonight. maybe it’s just you, but you swear you can hear some type of slow jazz.
it takes you at least twenty minutes (if the dreaming even has a linear concept of time) to notice him. and when you do, it’s only because he has to shuffle to get a better view of you, and you’re slightly perplexed by the swath of black fabric against such a vibrant pink background.
“oh! it’s you!”
finally, he thinks. “it is. and you, y/n? how are you?”
“i’m good. i’m not sure if this is actually you, or if you’re just me. still wrapping my head around this whole thing.”
“i am quite certain that we are separate. it will take time to adjust, but i am sure you will. you have quite the mind.”
you flush. “thank you. oh! actually, i had a favour to ask.”
“anything,” morpheus replies, instantly. there’s a softness in his voice that makes you almost melt. he, on the other hand, is elated. such intimacy, already? perhaps his worries were for nothing. he’d quite literally grant you the sun, if he could (though he doesn’t have the best experiences with those).
“could you perhaps get rid of my sister’s nightmares, too? in her own words, she ‘has a bone to pick.’ if that’s not too much?”
ah. not quite the favour he was thinking, but if it makes you happy…
“of course. i will see to it myself.”
you smile at that, and morpheus feels a warmth in his chest that he hasn’t felt for a long, long time.
“thanks, man. i appreciate that.”
you physically cringe. man ? there are seven ways you can envision the ground swallowing you up alive, and the only reason it doesn’t is because of morpheus’ presence.
meanwhile morpheus himself is inwardly despairing. ‘man’ ? either humans have changed entirely, or his seductive skills are at a miserable low.
thankfully, you’re saved by your alarm blaring through. you wake up in sheer agony. so bad, in fact, that you lie in bed for another twenty minutes quite literally saying prayers to every deity you can imagine. you’re atoning for some sin you can’t even think about. what the hell have you done to deserve this?
whilst you’re busy despairing in the waking world, morpheus is slumping against his throne in the dreaming. despair must be having a brilliant time, he thinks.
it takes both lucienne and matthew’s combined efforts to pull him out. giving the lord of dreams a pep talk? never been on the agenda, but he feels remarkably better after matthew assures him “maybe they’re just shy!”
so morpheus does something he’s never done before.
he consults human dating books. oh, so a ‘light touch on the arm’ is still popular. matthew tells him to try a more extroverted approach.
“why can’t you just tell them?”
but the lord of dreams is a prideful creature, though he’d never admit it. why should he go to them?
underneath that is a piercing fear of rejection, of being alone again, especially after the burgess incident. but that’s for later.
morpheus even consults death. his sister has a wonderful track record of being good with humans.
so, armed with flowers, and newfound knowledge of “tenderness, morpheus. be tender and warm,” he shows up at your door.
when you answer, you’re delighted, though you try and hide it, of course.
“hi again - oh, are those for johanna? she’s out at the moment, unfortunately, but i can pass a message on if you’d like?”
he blinks. “no, they…they are for you, actually.”
your eyes widen in surprise. “for me? what’s the occasion?”
he looks at you, so deeply that you almost shudder. there’s something…tangible about his stare. something that looks like restraint. “there was no reason,” he almost whispers. “i just thought you might like these. they’re often in your dreams.”
you could melt right there. he saw your dreams? personally?
but of course he did. he’s quite literally the lord of dreams. he sees everybody’s.
inwardly, you recoil, too caught up in denial to continue even thinking about any possible advances towards you.
“that’s…that’s really nice of you. thank you. would you like to come in?”
but before he can, you hear a car pull up. johanna’s home. and you love your sister, you truly do, but just this once you wish she hadn’t been home on time (which is a rare occurrence of it’s own).
morpheus, on the other hand, looks distraught. he’s practically on the verge of tears as johanna approaches, and though you remind him the offer still stands, he bids the both of you farewell. much to matthew’s chagrin, of course.
“nice one, boss.”
johanna teases you about the flowers, but you brush her off.
“it’s probably just appreciation. you know, because of the sand?”
your sister’s had enough. “you’re utterly hopeless, you know that? and so is he.”
“who?” you ask, absentmindedly.
“your sand boyfriend.”
“he’s not my boyfriend!”
oh, but how he wants to be.
in fact, morpheus has all but given up, until he sees one dream that particularly intrigues him.
you’re dreaming, again. you’re dreaming, and he could fall to his knees in relief when he realises that you’re dreaming of a romance movie.
it’s pride and prejudice. and the only reason he realises this is because he was there for its publication, of course (and because there’s been a strange influx of austen-adapted movie dreams lately, for some reason).
but it’s the scene that intrigues him, where darcy is walking up to you, in this case, and profoundly expressing his love.
how odd. he never would have pegged you down for such a hopeless romantic, but now he realises. he needs to be forward in his advances.
so he swallows your pride and shows up at your door the next morning, armed with nothing this time.
you answer the door hurriedly after hopping out of the shower, wearing nothing but an artfully wrapped towel, thinking it’s johanna.
it’s not. it’s a man (a man?) you are incredibly interested in, and you’re standing in front of him with wet hair and just a towel.
“could you…could you give me a minute, maybe?”
but morpheus’ usually formal tendencies have somehow vanished, and he protests.
“i need to speak to you.”
he barely waits for an answer, striding in. you practically run to shut the door, frantically looking around for something to preserve any shred of modesty you have left. that towel is slipping and you give yourself maybe five minutes before all hell breaks loose.
“y/n.”
“morpheus?”
to your utter horror, he launches into a speech you find all too familiar.
“-you have bewitched me, body and soul, and i-”
“were you spying on me?”
you’re seething. is this some sort of joke? does he mean to insult you? does he find humour in dreams that bring you some semblance of joy?
“i…”
“you have no right to peer into my dreams. that is personal. i don’t give a shit if you’re the king of dreams, you let me have that! let me live my dreams in peace!”
you’re all but yelling into his face, jabbing a finger into his chest. embarrassment is flaring into every atom of your being at the thought of him laughing at you. ridiculing you.
to your surprise, his own eyes burn in anger. “my apologies, but you are not exactly the easiest person to please.”
“to please?”
he groans. quite literally. the sound reverberates around the walls.
“do you have any idea how utterly exhausting it is to get in your mind? to try and win your affection? i have done everything. i have lost my dignity - i even considered asking desire for advice, all for you!” his voice penetrates into every layer of your body.
bashfully, you mutter, “why?”
if he could explode, he might have. you’ve both quietened down, a palpable tension between the two of you. the clock ticking dully is the only sound that fills the room for maybe five minutes.
“i have…i feel for you.”
“what? like pity?”
“no. listen to me. i feel for you. i have feelings for you. every moment i spend in your presence is a test of my restraint. there are no words for the boundless nature of just how deeply i feel for you. i am…i am half agony, half hope. say the word once, and i will leave you in peace. i will not interfere in your affairs, nor your dreams, again. but if there is even a glimmering semblance of affection for me, i beg you. tell me so. i cannot bear it any longer.”
oh.
you’ve never been good with words. it’s not in your nature; you’ve always left the negotiating, the diplomacy, to your sister. you’ve always been the first to act.
so when you grab morpheus’ face with your hands, eyes locked, you can feel in your gut that once again, your instinct hasn’t failed you.
you can practically hear relief filled in the sigh that escapes morpheus’ lips, a wordless plea pooling in his eyes, mouth begging to be savoured with everything you have in you. so tenderly, you press your lips to his.
it’s heaven. months, of pure restraint and long-awaited hope pour into the kiss, settle into your bones, wrap around the two of you. in fact, it’s almost like you both become one, so deeply are you melded together. kissing morpheus is like being filled with every star in the cosmos; like light and dark themselves, simultaneously.
when you finally break apart, you can’t help the smile that spreads on your face, and neither can he.
he looks at you eyes full of wonder, lips lightly swollen from the kiss. you’re wrapped in his arms, and his neck is woven in between your own arms.
“nice way to sneak austen in there, casanova. i thought the lord of dreams would have been original about that stuff.”
he pulls you closer, your head nestling into the crook of his neck. “i might have been very loosely inspired.”
you hum softly. “what a shame. you owe her an apology.”
morpheus shakes his head, and you feel a low chuckle build in his throat.
“in her dreams.”
——-
TAGLIST;
@liv-n
if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know ! i appreciate all feedback. and thank you so much for all the love on my recent writes! it is heartwarming and i am so grateful to everybody! :)
-orion
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Hello all well ? I couldn't help but want more of your beautiful story.😍😍
could give us more Morpheus and reader (Imagine being the one who frees Morpheus), where the people adore their new queen but morpheu thinks that I don't fulfill all the duties with his love, he didn't even ask her to marry him or had a coronation, but reader is calm about it.pleases thanks
[Check out the series HERE] || Sandman-inspired playlist
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For the record, you weren't an actual queen as in the bride of a king. Despite that, the inhabitants of Dreaming collectively decided to treat you like one and soon you had found yourself to be part of the court hierarchy. Not that you could ever complain about such honour - you received a lot of love and respect for simply giving advice or asking someone to consider their grudge from a different perspective. To the inhabitants of Dreaming, who were used to Morpheus's just but strict reign, a droplet of sweetness and tenderness seemed to be like water is to a cotton-mouthed man.
Morpheus might have appeared oblivious to your social 'promotion' but he was perfectly aware of it. To his dismay, no one ever outright informed him that you have allowed or done something without his council, even if those were small, fairly insignificant matters in the grand scheme of an entire realmn. Morpheus had to rely on his own observations and whispers that seemed to completely disappear whenever he was around. In any case, he had realized that there existed an entire world he was not privy to when he heard someone excitedly whisper 'Our queen' for the very first time. Dreaming did not, in fact, have a queen. Not officially, at least.
Your selflessness captured his heart, which was obvious, but it had also, quite literally, killed you for a moment. Maybe it was his fear of losing you for good or his sympathy towards the struggles you had suffered on his accord, that made Morpheus adamant about having you think solely of yourself for the first time in your life, to finally be at peace after everything you had been through. As one might expect, his desire surely did not include having you fulfil part of his royal duties. The guilt gnawed at him until one day Morpheus found himself unable to ignore the current state of affairs.
He was marching through the crystal halls of his palace prepared to dress you in silk and diamonds or do anything else that would somehow compensate for the bland weight of ruling you had on your shoulders. If he could, if you allowed him to, he'd tear it right off and break his own spine accommodating it.
Morpheus's rushed footsteps suddenly stopped when he noticed you standing on the balcony, leaning against the marble ledge. Your back was turned to him and for a moment he indulged in his selfish desires; watching your dress gently dance on the warm breeze, he wondered whether there truly was something divine about you. Maybe, if he asked nicely, you could tell him what heaven is like as you sure know it like the back of your hand. Or perhaps spring, the mother of hope and rebirth, had recognized its own face in yours, telling the wind and the sun to warm you on cold days. But if you were spring, like Persephone, was he not akin to Hades?
Such thought made him shudder. The quicker he solves his plight, the faster this feeling of dread and shame will dissolve. In fact, it seemed like blasphemy to experience something so bitter and bleak while you were within his arm's reach.
Hearing footsteps against the marble floor, you slightly turned around to see who had decided to visit you. Although the sight of Morpheus did excite your heart, the grim expression on his face, a shadow that towered over his regal beauty, quickly calmed the thrill inside you.
"You should not be fulfilling my duties for me," he stated. Strangely enough, he sounded angry.
Unable to tell what could sour his mood like that, you furrowed your eyebrows. "I'm sorry for upsetting you, Morpheus, although I have to be honest that I do not know what duties you're speaking of. I never meant to cross you, dear."
Morpheus didn't answer. He made his way towards you and did not stop walking until the tips of his shoes were brushing against yours. So far, you couldn't quite tell whether he was oblivious to a certain social etiquette or simply liked being so close to you.
His ocean-like eyes bore into you as if he was trying to enter your own mind and make himself at home there. If you were asleep, perhaps he could but you were awake and that forced him to actually speak his thoughts, although reluctantly: "Are you happy here?"
"What makes you ask that?"
Morpheus pursed his lips at your answer. Perhaps he was expecting a slightly different reaction from you - one that did not include voicing his introspection and making friends with vulnerability. "You tend to my subjects, bring order and prosperity into Dreaming, and yet I have failed to give a wedding worthy of a queen. You are bearing the weight of the crown without its splendour. It is unfair towards you."
"Have you considered that I simply want to spend time with your subjects?" you asked him with a gentle smile. Ever since he sought you out on the cold beach, you've learned that Morpheus cared a lot. Probably more than he himself was capable of understanding. His problem, however, was adequately expressing it. "Treat them as my peers, help them in their plights. You can't be everywhere all the time, Morpheus. Let me help you, just a little."
But he remained unconvinced. "A queen should wear a crown, have the king at her beck and call. The people of the realm shall praise their gods for being allowed in her vicinity." As he spoke, Morpheus reached to gently grab your hand and put it against his chest and though he was a child swearing by their own honesty. His thumb absentmindedly brushed against your skin. "It surely did not escape your attention that I have failed at granting you the honour and glory you deserve."
"The crowns, the dresses, the jewels - they're all very nice but what real difference do they make?" you asked. The question must have elicited some kind of reflection from him as his thumb stopped its soothing movement. "Strip all of that away and there remains only you and I. Believe me when I say, that I need nothing more and wish for nothing less."
His once bleak expression turned into something more gentle as though the yearning of his heart refused to remain hidden any longer. "My heart tells me to drown you in indescribable wealth and yet my mind tells me to let you be as you wish." As it appeared, such dissonance and lack of clarity were exceptionally rare for Morpheus. Gently and somewhat fearfully, he rested his forehead against yours. "How can you, a human, hold so much power over me?" he whispered.
A quiet giggle escaped your mouth. "I believe people refer to it as 'being in love'."
He felt his breath hitch as your lips softly kissed his forehead.
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Of Nightmares and Darkness | Morpheus x fem!reader
Description: your infatuation with Morpheus starts with a nightmare, how will it end?
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Warnings: +18, Filthy SMUT, angst, nightmare description, claustrophobia (confined spaces), nyctophobia (fear of dark), praising kink, degrading kink, fem!masturbation, oral (male receiving), Dom!Morpheus, sub!reader. Fluff at the end.
Words: +5k! Got extremely carried out, felt Tumblr needed much more Morpheus smut.
Song suggestion: Crazy in love - Sofia karlberg.
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Every night, falling asleep was the hardest thing you had to do. Not because you had trouble sleeping, but because of the nightmares that haunted you.
Every. Single. Night.
Sighing, you plopped on your bed staring at the ceiling, you fell asleep easily every night worn out from work, but you always woke up in the middle of your sleep panting, heavily sweating, clutching your chest to ease the tightness that's crushing your lungs. It could happen several times in one night. Different nightmares. Different stories.
You -like many of other people- suffered from some phobias, but you bet not all people dream about them.
In your room you always had a small light on, you didn't dare sleep -or sit- in a completely dark room. Your room was noticably wide, making the rest of the apartment look small, but you also couldn't bear the idea of staying in a small or closed space. You felt like you couldn't breathe or think.
Trying to stay awake, you grabbed your phone and started to look up "Dreams". Every other night you choose a topic to read about, and today was dreams, since you scarcely had a nice one.
Link after link, site after site, there was one thing that caught your attention as you yawned, a quote, or rather a poem? You didn't know, it said:
"Call for Morpheus,
He shall save you from the dark,
Call for Morpheus,
He shall guide you to your light"
Sitting upright in your bed, your stomach churning, you didn't know why you had this feeling in your gut that you were meant to see this.
Hesitating, your fingers hovered over the search bar, you took a deep breath then wrote: Morpheus.
Morpheus
God of dreams and nightmares, king of the dreaming.
God of dreams? And nightmares? You didn't want to believe this. No, you really didn't. But we all know the saying.
Curiosity.
You started digging more into the matter, searching deep, you found a sketch drawn, you didn't know to whom it belonged, if it's real or not. A sketch of a slender, pale man, high cheekbones, ruffled black hair, long black coat with a raven on his shoulder, a ruby adorning his neck, and a leather pouch in his hand. Underneath the image you saw the name: Morpheus.
Checking the time you found it nearing midnight, you exhaled loudly, closing all the tabs, not wanting to read anymore or let the matter get into your mind. Switching on the little lamp, you pulled up the covers and slept on your side, facing the window in your room.
Darkness. Tight space.
You felt trapped in a coffin. It was pitch black, you couldn't see your own hand, your breathing quickened, feeling your hands tremble and your legs shake, you started gasping loudly, feeling the adrenaline going so high you thought you'd pass out. That'd be more merciful than what you're feeling now. You knew it was a nightmare, but you could feel it in every sense of the word, as if it was really happening to you. Your bones weakening, hands grasping your shirt fighting to breathe. Suddenly you remembered the words you read:
"Call for Morpheus,
He shall save you from the dark,
Call for Morpheus,
He shall guide you to your light."
Fighting to speak and breathe, you started saying his name as much as you could.
"Morpheus." Gasping.
"Morpheus." Panting.
"Morpheus."
You felt darkness swallow you until you couldn't breathe anymore, your sight fading...
************************
Morpheus opened his eyes abruptly, sitting on his throne, he heard his name being called. He thought it was chanting or, perhaps, someone praying. But then he heard the desperation in the voice, the pants, hard intakes of breaths. Morpheus found himself in your nightmare, everything dark. He saw you struggling to move, clutching your chest desperately, your other hand on your imagined coffin trying to steady yourself, you kept calling his name until he thought you'd faint. Swaying his coat, stars littered the darkness around you, small light dots swirled around you, the darkness lightening bit by bit.
Swiping his hand, galaxies and bright, big stars erupted in fire works as the coffin turned into a vast space, the universe itself surrounding you, you almost felt like floating..
Eyes watering from the intensity, your breathing evened, your lungs were full of oxygen again, adrenaline lessining, you sat upright looking in front of you, seeing a hazy figure, no matter how hard you squinted you couldn't see him...
You woke up with a startle. Looking at the clock you saw it was nearly 5 in the morning. For your usual non-existing sleeping program, that was progress.
Pulling off the covers, you went into the kitchen to prepare some breakfast, you weren't used to sleeping for long periods anyway. Having eaten, you took a bath to relax, today was your day off anyways and you didn't want to waste it moping at home. Wearing your sneakers you went out for a run. Mind wandering to Morpheus, you remembered your nightmare, the words you read, the name you called for and the epic change from the worst nightmare to the most beautiful of dreams. You remembered the hazy figure you saw in front of you. Passing the library you halted your tracks. Entering it, you started searching through the books, not really knowing what you're searching for. Passing by Greek Mythology books, you saw a dark blue cover, golden letters carved into the leather: Morpheus.
Your breath hitched and your pulse quickened, your shaky hands extended to get the book. Opening it, you found some pages in Greek while others were in English, which was probably impossible to find.
Sitting, you started reading:
"In the darkness, Morpheus, the God of Dreams, awakened to a world where he and only he wielded power. As the Son of Hypnos and Pasithea, Morpheus is very powerful. The fact he was able to put the Gods of Olympus and most of Greece to sleep with little effort, he is a force to be reckoned with. Morpheus is able to put mortals and gods to sleep. As the God of dreams, Morpheus has the power to manipulate the dreams of others, both Gods and mortals. Morpheus creates both dreams and nightmares. Everything in the dreaming world is under his command. In your sleep, you belong to him."
Your body shivered to the words, other pages had sketches to what Morpheus might look like, some sketched him as a demon, some with wings, but the most fascinating were his sketches as human. His face was sharp, body covered in his black coat, eyes shining with golden specks, similar to the sketch you saw yesterday, you suspected he was the one in your dream.
Weeks passed by as your infatuation with Morpheus grew heavy, by the time you almost had no nightmares, all your dreams were about him and him only. You knew you had gone insane, all this sleep loss made you obsessed with the God of dreams. When you slept, you pictured him standing in front of you, tormentingly close, his cool breath almost fanning your face, plush pink lips hovering slightly over yours. Every time you move to touch him, you wake up.
The lights went out one night, the whole street was dark, moon light wasn't that strong.
You were so restless you couldn't close your eyes, you started writhing in the bed, what if you're late to work tomorrow? Will they finally fire you? How will you find another job? Are you always gonna be this lonely? When will the light return? Why is it so dark? Why does the room feel so small?
Thought swirled quickly in your mind, panick immensed inside of you, making it hard for you to lay on your bed, you got up feeling light headed. Your head pounding, legs weak, you didn't know what to do.
"Morpheus" You panted in the air as you leaned into the wall, your lungs collapsing as anxiety took over you.
"Look at me" A deep, rough voice echoed through your room, barely reached your ringing ears. Arms held your hands as you clung tightly to the man in front of you. Feeling yourself being seated, your hold tightening on the man's arms.
"Look me in the eyes." You raised your head slowly, gasping softly as you were met with the face that conquered your dreams for many nights.
He sat you on the bed, kneeling in front of you, holding you in your place, his hands leaving your arms to plant themselves on both sides of your bed.
"Are you feeling better?" He asked. His voice melody to your ears, raspy and deep, it shook your heart violently. Your head spinning, not knowing how to answer you nodded, way too slow for him to believe so. He kept his gaze focused on you, your eyes studying him, his features, his hands, long fingers graced the bed sheets, marble white body clad in black clothes, the famous black coat that you dreamt of countless times.
He noticed your eyes travelling all over him. Standing up, he walked around your room, studying it. His eyes fell on a book, Morpheus.
He glanced at you, watching you fiddle with your hands in your lap, biting your lip nervously. He almost smirked, but he wouldn't yet give you that satisfaction. Morpheus knew how infatuated with him you were, your dreams of him, your fantasies of his coat, his body. He saw it all and he knew you knew that. Skimming the pages of the book, he wondered if you'll ever break the silence.
You eagerly eyed him, his stance powerful in the dark room, now lit by a small white lantern in the corner, which you were sure belonged to Morpheus. Your heart beat rapidly, you remembered your dreams. There's one sinful dream you were ashamed of.
His coat splayed on the bed, you sleeping naked over it, your legs wide open, you were so horny and wet that you had floods between your legs, covering your folds, your clit, dripping down your inner thighs. You were in your room, dimly lit, a scent of magic and stardust in the air, your hands moving from your neck down to your breasts in a teasing motion, your fingers twirling both your nipples making your pussy gush juices, you moaned at the feeling, you wanted them to be Morpheus', not yours. You sighed as your right hand moved down your waist, gripping your hip bone making your back arch, knowing this is a soft spot. Travelling lower, your fingers started massaging your folds agonizingly slow, imagining them to be Morpheus' fingers teasing you, edging you. Picturing his face between your legs, you entered one finger into your cunt, followed by another, wanting to feel full to the brim, you started imagining his throbbing cock, tip red and swollen, you moaned at the thought. You brought your other hand to play with your clit as you started moving your fingers faster, circling your clit in rhythm with your fingers.
"Oh, God yes." You panted, feeling your walls flutter around your fingers. "Morpheus" you moaned loudly, "Morpheus, please. I need you." You whined loudly, feeling your pussy clench. "Need your mouth on my lips, my tits, fuck yes," you arched your back as you felt his coat brush against it, intensifying your pleasure. "Need to feel you inside of me," you sigh dreamily as you felt your pleasure coming to an end. "Need to feel your mouth between my legs, fuck me raw until I can't breathe. Ruin me for all men." You gasped as you started rocking your hips into your fingers. "Morpheus, fuck yes, Morpheus please." You moaned sinfully as your orgasm washed over you, your body shook over the coat, your fingers thrusting inside of you helping yourself ride your orgasm, the finger on your clit moved to your left tit to grip it tightly. Your body stilled, heavy breaths filled the air as your room screamed sex.
Blushing furiously after remembering your dream, your eyes followed Morpheus' every move, until he turned to face you, walking to where you're sitting, coming to a stop directly in front of you. He was very tall, compared to you sitting, he hovered over you, your face meeting his torso, you felt ashamed you couldn't bring yourself to look at him.
"Eyes on me." You heard him. He wasn't asking, it was an order.
Your eyes travelled slowly up until they fell on his.
"Isn't it rude not to greet who you've sinfully longed for?" He looked down at you, feeling his breath fan your face your body shuddered in delight.
"It is." You answered.
"So you can speak." He said, faking amusement.
"I wondered when will that pretty voice of yours come out, considering that day my whole realm heard you screaming my name. Begging for me." His voice lowered even more, eyes daring you to deny. Your cheeks fired, hands felt sweaty, you felt trapped. His gaze was a hunting one, a predator's gaze to his prey.
"I'm sorry" you said, feeling nervous but aroused, your wetness soaking your shorts.
He clicked his tongue, fingers grazing your cheek. "That's not the answer I am looking for." The back of his hand travelled down to the side of your neck, feeling your pulse. Your skin lit fire in the places he caressed.
"What was it the answer you're looking for?" You asked. His eyes snapped up to yours.
"This." Lips dipping to the curve of your neck, he kissed you very lightly, then he started sucking the spot making your body jerk towards his as the loudest of moans left your mouth. Your moans were slutty to say the least, and he didn't even do anything to you yet.
"So eager. So hungry for me. Tell me, what is it you crave in me?" He leaned back, standing straight as he looked at you. You were breathing heavily, chest heaving as you felt your blood raging to your core.
"I," you shut yourself. This was your chance. Choose your words wisely. "I need all of you. I want you to give me everything you have." You said as excitement filled your eyes.
He chuckled.
"You can't handle that."
"I can. Try me."
"Are you daring me, mortal?" Challenge covered his eyes. You felt your nipples harden, your hands shaking as you felt the seam of your shorts against your clit, you craved friction.
"Yes." You hoped you won't regret that.
In a second, you found yourself spread on the bed, completely naked, all your clothes lost. You gasped, mind clouding with heat, needing friction between your thighs, you rubbed them.
Morpheus hands came down on your knees, pushing your legs apart so wide to the point you felt them strain, you felt his long coat under you, as he rolled the sleeves of his black shirt up.
"You. Need a lesson in discipline." You instantly moaned at his words.
"Such a dirty woman." He said, eyes hungry.
Morpheus licked his lips eagerly, eating your body with his eyes.
"Lay down on your front, ass up." Commanded his voice. Your core was dripping by now and the position you're about to take will make you completely exposed to him.
You did as he asked feeling shy all of a sudden, you kept squirming under his gaze, trying to close your legs so he won't see how wet you are.
You felt his heat behind without him touching you, so close to you feeling the ghost of his pants.
You felt one of his hands caress your inner thigh.
You felt him lean forward until his mouth was beside your ear, his breath fanning your neck.
"Open those legs for me, this position was not made for you to hide from my eyes." Each word felt like a sin coming out of his mouth, you kept from moaning as you nodded your head. His right hand caressed your ass gently, travelling up to squeeze your hip, waist, reaching the curve of your breast, Morpheus caught your tit in his hand kneading it slowly feeling you shiver under him, his eyes glued to your side as your mouth hung open, eyes closed.
"Looking so good for me" he said almost lovingly, you whimpered as his fingers took turns rolling your nipple and rubbing it, God you could cum like that.
"Please" you whispered trying to buck your hips backwards but the hand on your inner thigh gripped it painfully.
You felt his hand leave your breast, coming in contact with your ass. Feeling the pleasure your head rolled back to look at him. You saw his eyes turned to the darkest shades of green with a rim of gold.
"I will punish you first, then the rest comes, if you deserve it." He said as his hand left your inner thigh making you whimper in pain, only for it to grip your neck, choking you softly making you gasp.
His hand slapped you in the same spot making you wiggle touching his pants.
"Now you wouldn't want to ruin my pants, do you?" His face came so close to yours as his hand kept choking your neck, craning it backwards to meet his gaze. You shook your head, tears of frustration brimming in your eyes, feeling your cunt burn for the King who's handling you too good for your mortal brain to comprehend.
"Choose your punishment"
"Slap me"
"Where?"
You move your pussy back to touch him making him exhale at your wetness.
He flipped you around, hands hovering over you, eyes boring holes into yours.
Morpheus smirked as his hand slapped your pussy hard, making you buck your hips up, moaning loudly.
"Count for me"
"One"
Slap. "Two"
Slap. "Three"
You felt your core weeping, feeling your wetness on the curve of your ass, your legs inhumanely wide just to please him.
By the time he hit the tenth slap, you were a shivering mess below him, tears streaming down your face, hands grasping his coat tightly, whimpers of his name leaving your lips like a prayer.
Morpheus' hand came up to caress your cheek tenderly, his face coming so close, his lips brushed against yours. "What was it you said? Ruin me for all men?" He asked, your eyelids fluttering shut at the proximity of his voice, his warm lips.
"I think, I'll ruin you for all gods."
Morpheus' cool hand cupped your core making your eyes snap open, gasping softly, his cool hand a relieving contrast to your burning core.
"I thought I told you to keep your eyes on me."
"Yes, m-my Lord." You struggled to say as you tried to buck your hips into his hand.
"Someone's seeking relief and being obedient."
Standing up, Morpheus unbuttoned his shirt, your eyes following his every move until it ended on the floor, your mouth agape at the heavenly sight greeting you, he belonged with marble statues not your bedroom.
His hands went lower to his pants, unbuttoning and discarding them, you can see now how hard he is, his cock straining hard against the fabric, you crawled to him, face level with his boner, you looked at him for permission.
His jaw went tense before nodding. Sitting up on your knees, you caressed his chest with your hands, feeling every ridge and every muscle, his skin soft and cool to touch. Your hands reached the hem of his garment, you felt his pulse beneath your hands, breathing softly you undressed him, watching his swollen cock spring free, your mouth watered involuntarily wanting to taste him, feel him throbbing against your tongue as you lick the vein on his base.
"Lay back."
You looked up at him, worried that he won't let you taste him. He smirked knowingly.
You crawled back up the bed until your head hit the pillows, he came after you, straddling your torso, legs resting on your sides, his hand leaning on the headboard for support, his cock directly in front of your face.
Everything disappeared at this moment, you felt like cumming on the spot.
Morpheus leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth with ease, you couldn't fight him. His other hand went down to your breast, kneading it softly, thumb again brushing your nipple.
You whimpered against his mouth, feeling flushed all over, extremely weak in his arms.
"Morpheus." You panted looking at his eyes, your hand coming up to touch his on your breast.
"I want to taste you." You said looking at his cock. He let the headboard free along with your breast making you miss his touch immediately.
He readjusted your head on the pillow, giving you more space.
Morpheus' hands grabbed each of your tits, pushing his cock between them, he started thrusting slowly, feeling your soft flesh caress him, he threw his head back sucking in a breath. You watched him with awe, he could never be more beautiful, hair tousled, lips parted, neck flushed with heat. The feeling of his thick, long dick between your breasts made you look, pleasured noises leaving you. You opened your mouth, wanting him to thrust his tip in it. Knowing your need, Morpheus put his hand at the back of your neck, supporting it, he thrust his tip into your mouth. You sucked at it slowly, rolling your tongue around it while looking up at him with wide eyes. Seeing you like this, spread out for him, so hungry and willing to take him whole wherever he wants, Morpheus felt a fire ignite in his soul, his eyes burning with desire for you.
He kept thrusting his tip teasing you, making you more desperate for him, by this moment you no longer cared what you wanted, you just needed to please him properly.
You put your hand on the back of his, behind your head, guiding more of him into your mouth. Morpheus exhaled loudly, whether of relief or pleasure you wanted to give him your best.
Sitting a bit up, you adjusted so you can suck him better, you started swirling your tongue around him, doing cat licks at the tip.
Morpheus let out the first moan, one of pure ecstasy. The voices he emitted ignited you more, bobbing your head faster, taking him deeper, he wrapped your hair around the hand holding your neck, roots tugging softly you moaned around his cock making it jerk in your mouth. Morpheus head hung low looking at you in the eyes, mouth hung open in awe at your face stuffed with his cock, he thrusted deeper, feeling your throat close around his tip, you evened your breathing to prevent gagging. Letting you breathe, you took more of him until you reached his base, hugging his thighs with your arms you drove your head deeper until your nose was so close to his skin. Morpheus was a gasping mess, his pale face turned red, plump lips biting themselves to hold from filling you with his cum. He wanted to fuck his cum into you, feel it mix with your wetness as your pussy took all of him greedily.
He groaned at the thought, tugging you off him, you were gasping for breath.
Morpheus travelled down your body, lips nipping at your neck, hands holding your waist, he started marking your stomach, down to your lower belly.
Hovering over your now flooded pussy, he looked up at you and what a sight it was.
"Do you want me here?" He asked as the slightest of smirks graced his face. He was well aware of your dreams both in the dreaming and waking worlds, he was sure you needed him most there.
"I remember you needed my mouth on your lips, breasts and between your legs. Is that right?" Morpheus teased your slit with two fingers running up and down agonizingly slow , wetness collecting at the tips of his fingers. You looked him in the eye, you knew you played a game you'd definitely love to lose, but you were so turned on you didn't want to back down, you only wanted to spur him further, you wanted him to take you until you collapsed.
"I also said I wanted your majesty to fuck me raw until I can't breathe."
Sensing the sarcasm in your voice, Morpheus' face hardened. Oh fuck.
Cupping your clit with his lips, sucking at it wholly, you arched your back off the bed as you started shaking. Gasping his name you clawed at his coat under you, wanting anything to hold you down as pleasure shot straight to your nerves. Your hands tugged at his hair. You felt yourself tightening with searing hot pleasure coursing through your body, so close to cum.
Suddenly everything stopped. Tears streamed down from your eyes, your breath unable to reach your lungs properly. Morpheus took your hands off his head, pinning them above you.
"Disrespecting Morpheus and his powers. Making fun of Morpheus while your body begs for him in the most shameful ways." Morpheus moves up your body until his lips are against yours, his achingly hard cock touching your inner thigh. Fingers brushed against your lower lip, the rest of his hand on the side of your neck squeezing lightly.
"Shall I be your never ending nightmare? Everytime you close your eyes to sleep I'll be haunting your dreams, edging you, tasting you, riding you, then you'll wake up with no release. Would you want that?" You whined in protest as he entered his thumb in your mouth, holding your tongue.
"That's what I thought."
Freeing your hands, Morpheus lifted one leg on his shoulder, the other wrapping around his hips. This is it. Morpheus is gonna fuck you into oblivion.
You felt his cock at your entrance, his angry tip teasing you, going up and down your slit, he caught his cock and slapped your clit making you mewl in pleasure. Not able to take it any more, you waited until he adjusted at your entrance slowly pushing in, you bucked your hips forcefully driving his cock deep.
Both of you erupted in sinful moans, your eyes fluttering shut, feeling your soul leave your body.
Morpheus gasped, going all the way out, slamming into you feeling his tip brushing your cervix.
"Do you like it that way? Do you?" Morpheus started moving into you, slow, deep, strong thrusts driving you up the bed, his hands came to your waist holding you in place.
" Faster. Morpheus. Harder." You begged him. You were two thrusts away from cumming, being so worked up. Morpheus started moving faster, fulfilling your desires, he drove his hips harder into you, feeling you clenching around him made him growl in an animalistic way. His primal need taking over his mind, Morpheus felt your pussy tighten around him, your coil so tight it'd snap any minute, he wanted to please you and show you love at the same time.
He pressed one hand onto your lower abdomen.
"Can you feel me? Am so deep in you, ruining you for other men. Fucking you raw until you can't breathe." You were a shaky, sweating mess, all words in your brain lost, all thoughts incoherent.
One thing only vivid in your mind. Morpheus.
"Morph-eus, p-please. I n-need to c-cum for you." You begged quitely, unable to form a sentence.
"Will you be a good girl and scream for me like you did in your dream?" Morpheus rolled his hips swiftly, touching every spot that drove you absolutely wild.
"Morpheus! Fuck" you screamed so loud feeling every vein in his cock pulsing against your walls.
Groaning each time you scream, Morpheus opened your legs wider, you hugged his hips with your legs, caging him to your body, letting his weight fall over your body, he took you in his arms, your hands instantly gripping his shoulders.
The new angle made him hit your spot better, eyes seeing stars you felt your orgasm so high up you thought you'd faint. His hand came down to your clit, rubbing circles with each thrust of his.
"Let go, darling. I've got you. Give me all you've got." Morpheus' voice promised against your ear.
Screaming his name, your body convulsed in his muscular arms, feeling your orgasm shatter in pleasurable ways you couldn't imagine.
"You're doing so good for me, taking me so well like you were made for me." Morpheus praised you, chasing his own high, feeling your aftershocks against his cock, he felt your fingers holding his back, hot and needy. He drove faster into you, your second orgasm already at your door.
"Morpheus, Morpheus fuck." You moaned shamefully.
You felt his cock twitch inside of you. Your chanting of his name driving him wild. Biting his earlobe, you sucked on his pulse, your hand travelling down to caress his balls.
Morpheus groaned deeply in your ear, snapping his hips roughly, you came in his arms, convulsing like mad, feeling his hot cum fill you up to the brim.
Morpheus came and for seconds kept fucking his cum into you, listening to the noise you both made with your need for each other.
You struggled to breathe as you tried fanning yourself, coming down from your very pleasuring high.
"Was that as good as the dream?" Morpheus asked, face resting on your chest as he looked at you, still inside of you.
"Morpheus, I-" you hesitated. You didn't know what to do or say. You felt love swell your heart. You thought it was lust but now you know, you've fallen for the King of dreams.
" I've never felt this beauty, this pleasure, this love and desire." You whispered softly.
"Love? You haven't seen any love." Morpheus said. "Yet." He added quickly making your eyes snap up at his.
Slowly, his coat started surrounding you both, shielding you from the outside world, getting darker, you were starting to feel scared.
Morpheus' eyes vowed to make you safe, as the coat started shining very softly, stars with dim light shone around you. Just like your first dream of him.
The feeling was more delightful than anything you've ever felt, you felt..... Whole.
Morpheus body connected with yours like you were one, it was indeed lust-driven, but you knew you couldn't deny the flame that burned deep inside you once you found his book, you knew you'd fall for him.
"Morpheus." You whispered, playing with his hair.
"I am here, love. No need to call for me." He kissed your sternum softly you barely missed his lips.
"I feel safe." You admitted.
Morpheus' eyes shone in adoration, possessiveness and the instinct of protecting you multiplying inside of him.
He moved to your side, holding you close to his firm chest, face buried in your neck, he pecked it softly rubbing small circles on your shoulder.
Your mind wandered, what if he leaves? He has to go somehow, sometime. You felt your heart tug at the idea, picturing yourself without him.
"No need for these doubts. I am not leaving you, if I ever shall not be here, all you have to do is just call the name. Call my name. I have came to you every time you called for me, not even knowing I was there. I will always be here." He pressed a long kiss to your shoulder, your doubts faded, you wanted to feel warm and safe for once in your disturbed life.
Holding his arm tighter against yours, you relaxed into his body.
"I am crazy for you, Morpheus." You admitted in the air, coming out from you almost a whisper.
"I call it love." A rare, earnest smile adorned his lips.
You were crazy in love.
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