#Angry!Dream of the Endless|Morpheus

[kittynannygaming]

It seems that I didn’t post it (yet) on Tumblr. Shame on me.

Fishbowl Rescue or Angry Dream (not at Hob!) or whatever!

Happy Dreamling Day!

[the-herdier]

Dream throwing a baby tantrum over having to wear normal clothing will never not be funny to me.

[fleabagoftheendless]

As much as I love Dream and Desire's relationship, Desire still owes Dream an apology. Don't get me wrong, I know Dream is not a good big brother, he needs to get his shit together and be nice to his younger siblings. But to take advantage of your big brother's imprisonment and then interfere in his schemes to indirectly kill him is too much of a petty behavior. I love this pettiness but god both the siblings need to be held accountable in this case.

[yourchocolatenachostudent]

I looked at all 1000+ publications of Ferdinand Kingsley with his dog and a new headcanon was born in my head.

During one of Hob and Dream's meetings at The New Inn, Hob says that he has made another friend besides him and shows Dream a photo of his dog on phone. Contrary to Hob's expectations, Dream reacts to this news very coldly and even a little hostile. Hob does not understand what the reason is and suggests that maybe Dream will change his attitude if he gets to know the dog personally.

But it doesn't work. When they come to Hob's house, the dog starts incessantly barking at Dream, because he feels a cat aura emanating from him or something, and Hob is completely unable to calm him down. Only when he is distracted by a phone call, Dream turns into a cat and with the help of claws proves to the dog that he is Hob's more dominant friend in this house. As a result, when Hob returns, he sees his friends in different corners of the room with obvious tension between them and contempt sparkling in their eyes.

Spoiler:

In the end, they manage to reconcile and they even begin to be friends, but this still does not prevent them from constantly doing nasty things to each other and desperately fighting for Hob's attention.

That's all. Too many letters, and I'm not sure about the translation, but I hope the idea is clear.

[stressed24seven]

ooh he’s angry (this is a cry for help)

[ladyclwriter]

Morpheus Imagine

I Did Something Bad

Dream of the endless x gn!nightmare!reader

"Enemies" to lovers

Summary: Morpheus had to go after the not-so-new major arcana, just like the other ones. He forgot the fact that this one was the only one who spoke to him like an equal. And, just like a century ago, you argued, as you wanted to spoke up for your kind needs — and for yours too.

Discussion, bad words, angst+fluff, creatorxcreation kiss(?)

A/n: heavily inspired by “I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain”. Blame Taylor Swift

He still remembered the ceremony. The brand new major arcana being welcomed by its partners, siblings, relatives, or whatever four nightmares could call each other. That odd small humanly-beast figure, standing in the middle of the hall, holding back happy tears. He also remembered how cold, stiff he was in that time. How he treated it all as a formality, how he didn't saw the emotions on the monster's red eyes. Or maybe he just ignored it.

He didn't had much time to figure out the intense nightmare he created. Three years later, he got imprisoned. Even if he lived that century with freedom, he knew he wouldn't saw it either.

But, to every bad thing, there's a good consequence.

Because now he was there, standing, watching the not so beast thing walk out of a big building. Well, he only knew it was the nightmare for the fact that he could feel it. Otherwise, he would never expect that the long claws, the spiky dark fur, the lion mane, crocodile tail, shark teeth and bird nose would turn into a such apleasing-to the-eyes-full-humanly-body. But he knew that nothing in that being was human. In his soul, he did know. It was a part of him. A little slice of his power, an extension from the Dreaming. There, walking with a proud smile in the middle of the crowd.

Thunder echoed distantly, waking him up from his own thoughts. He didn't expected for him to be so uneasy about this approach. Surely that one was the easiest of all four. This one, he could track down. And it didn't had as much as resentment as the others. Still, he was there. Hesitant.

His steps were slow, not caring about following the nightmare's pace. He tried to silent his own mind, as his soul screamed louder and louder while the distance decreased. A part of him. A very young, wild and unpredictable one.

“Holy shit.” the nightmare said loudly, stopping its own walk. Morpheus did the same. “Holy fucking endless shit”.

When you turned around, the Lord Of Dreams would never imagine that his small weird beast would become such an eye-catching human in the waking realm. For a little second, he regretted using his powers to create it as the monsterly nightmare. But it was just a second.

“Morpheus.” you said it in a different way. None of you knew how or why, but it was different. No one would pronounce it's own creator's name like this. “I knew you were free, but... I never thought you would look out for me.”

“You are one of the major arcanas. Of course I would search for you just like the others.” you forgot how his voice sounded like. For some reason, you felt it reverberate in your fake body. It made you shiver from head to toe. “May I ask what you were doing in there?”

Your smirk was genuine, but you looked away from him. “No, you can't. I bet you could know the answer without questioning. And I'm sure you already know it wasn't anything good.” you didn't said in a rude way. It was just the truth. Nor that it should be easy to talk to your lord like this.

“Why? Why am I supposed to expect the worse of you?” you chuckle. Arms crossed, stared in his dark eyes. There was so many answers you wanted to give him. So many things you could actually use against him. Your tongue was tickling, mind rushing.

“You must've heard about the things my brother has been doing.” something on his face changed. Not exactly changed. He was emotionless, as always. But his eyes were certaintly more expressive. “We had only three years, but you must remember how he was the one I most got along with. Other than that...”

You hated to say it. One step closer, without looking at him again. You couldn't avoid getting heavy bad feelings whenever you admitted the fact.

“You created me. You know exactly how my inner is. You know my soul as much as I don't know yours.” your voice was low, face as harsh as your words. You broke the distance between your face and his, only inches away, staring at his eyes. “So fuck off. I'm not going back to the Dreaming.”

Simply, you cut all the chitchat he wanted to give you. With the intimacy a creation can have with it's creator, and all the disrespect too.

Morpheus was a pure rock, standing without any sight of emotion. But, inside of his mind, he trembled. Angry, feeling powerless as he noticed how, yes, not even one single being that once he ruled would obey him now. Not even Lucienne would be as obedient as she was before. Nothing would be like a century ago. It was obvious, but something inside him broke everytime he noticed this becoming a fact. And that, that was the last spark to make him snap.

“Who do you think you are?”

You knew what was coming. You didn't stepped back, you didn't hesitated. But you were scared. Afraid. He's your creator, yes. He is your lord, your master. You only lived with him for three years, and for a hundred one, he was captivated. Who knows what was going through his mind?

He wasn't any different from the first time you saw him, when you received the breath of life. He was still tall, plain, so powerful that not even the ground could handle it alone. And now, he was angry. More than on all the arguments you had before — countless ones.

“I got away for an century, but I'm back now. And I'm still your lord. You should refer to me as it.” his normally rough voice sounded more harsh. You could feel it inside your body, echoing with the loud thunders. “Ask for forgiveness.”

“Don't make me tell you to fuck off again, Morpheus.”

“I never gave you permission to call me by my name.” rougher.

“What should I call you then? Oneiros?”

The world stopped. The rain didn't fell, all the crowd around seemed to freeze. You didn't had a heart, but something inside you skipped a beat. You regretted instantly. He stared intensely in your eyes, cosmos and supernovas exploding on his iris — exploding inside you. He didn't moved an inch; yet, you felt your body burning. Your inside getting unmade, his power coming back to him.

“I would rather not see life's light anymore, than coming back to that fucking realm.” your voice was louder. People started to look at you two, as you started sweating and trembling. Your being was getting shattered with his anger.

“It is your duty to stay at the Dreaming. You were made to it. If you don't want to do your job, then, yes-” he didn't wanted to say that. “You won't see life's light anymore.”

You weren't scared. Getting unmade was better than getting tortured (what an angry Endless would do to torture another immortal being? You didn't wanted to figure out), or forced to come back to your duties. You wouldn't give up, even as you felt life run out of your body, you still would fight for, well, yourself. “You can live, Morpheus. You loved, hated, celebrated and cried. But not us.”

“We are doomed to a cruel eternity. You made us this way. To suffer, and to punish, but this is not fair!” tears popping in your eyes, you raised one hand, pointing a finger to him. “You want to talk about duty? About being a lord? Then why you never thought about this? About us?!”

About all the ugly nightmares he made before. About the most funny one, Corinthian. About the sweet Gault. About the serene Fiddler's Green. And all the others.

“I don't care about your name, nor who you are. You never gave me any respect or even attention. You were never here, you never cared about me.” opening your arms wide, you laughed at the irony and misery these words carried. “So yeah, fuck off! Three times!”

“It wasn't my fault.” at this point, he didn't cared. About being polite or respected. His power stopped getting in action, you breathing in and out slowly, feeling yourself complete again. “You and your partners really believed I was gone by my own will?”

Your brother was the very first one of you to know the news. He also were the only one to get involved with the raptors. You didn't supported him on that, but didn't went against it too. You were still confused how your creator could be captured so easily. Above that, all of sudden you were free, as Corinthian said.

“I'm not talking about this century, Morpheus. I'm talking about my three first years of life. About all the life of my, partners, as you said.” it was surprising that he didn't got your point, and you showed it with your tone. “You always neglected my kind. You simply never cared about any of us.”

“That is not true.”

“Yes it is!” said way too loud. You looked around as people stared at you, and gave them a little smile; most of them familiar faces. It wasn't the first time you were partying in that district. “I had enough time to talk to all of them. Everyone complained about the same thing. How none of us wanted the duty you gave us; how we envied every single being that could actually live.”

He knew that. Deep down, in that little place where all his creations were connected to him, he knew and felt everything you said. And that made you angrier.

“Fucking hell, I don't even know if you care! Tell me, Morpheus, am I talking all of this only for you to ignore?” you lowered your voice, frowning with vulnerability.

He only kept looking at you, always in your eyes. Took a deep breath, and swallowed his pride down his throat.

“What do you want me to do, then?” he shrugged. “If I turn all the nightmares into dreams, or let them live in the waking world. What will be of the bad men you need to haunt? I would have to create new nightmares, only to have the same issues?”

“I don't fucking care about being rational right now, Morpheus!” you almost screamed. One drip of rain fell in your cheek, but you kept looking at him, offended. “Just fucking try to feel something! Just... Fucking pretend to, at least!”

“Lower your voice.” it was a command.

“No. I'm not lowering my voice. I'm not fucking holding me back!” demonstrated it with your body, with exaggerated gestures. “I'm not turning into your subordinate. We shouldn't be ruled like this. Tell me, do you fucking treat dreams like you treat us?”

He rolled his eyes.

He fucking rolled his eyes.

And you raised an arm. Fist closed, trembling in the air, as in a little second you realized what you were going to do — he wasn't one of the assholes you bumped into the clubs. And he made you feel it again, sending a wave of shock inside you. You shivered as the cold rain started pouring, accompanying your own body getting electrified by your creator's powers.

“You have only two choices. Returning with me to the Dreaming, or saying goodbye to all of this.” he raised his hand, ignoring your closed fist. With his palm turned to the raining sky, he stared at you. “What do you want to come back? I shall give you.”

You weren't prepared for this answer. It was fucking democracy, and that you didn't expected. But, instead of being a good thing, it made your tears come harder. “You still don't get it”.

You put down your arm, giving two steps back. Biting your lip, you looked away, trying to not get too emotional, even if it was quite impossible to you.

“We want what all of you have. Freedom to live. To laugh, and cry, and drink, and fuck. I mean, we can still work before getting fun, right? Isn't it what all of this people have been doing?” you looked around.

Drunk friends walking side by side with a business man. People with briefcases, others with bags, others in uniforms. Coming to or from work. A man in a suit even walked by, talking on the phone that he was going straight to a bar.

“But, above all of this...” you stared at the ground, feeling his gaze upon you. Hugged yourself, starting to get wet from the rain. “I think... All we need is your attention.”

Dark eyes narrowed, analyzing the one who still kept staring at the ground. His many years of experience and wiseness were speaking louder.

“A 'thank you'. Or, 'well done'. Anything would be enough. I mean, before. Not now.” you bite your lip, hesitating, words burning to be said. “Now, I don't know. But... I know all this time we all missed you.”

Then you looked at him again. Didn't expected anything at all, and that what you received. Emotionless as always. But the little tease on his tone; “Really? Everyone?” made you rise an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Everyone.” including me, it meant. Taking a deep breath, you smiled, rain soaking both of you.

Dream was thinking. Deeply pondering. His gaze darted off, lost on his thoughts, unreadable. He did recognize he neglected the nightmares, and this one was special. A new creation he didn't got time to settle in, and didn't got the best examples. Then, he just sighed. “What do you want from me?”

You weren't ready for it. Realization hit you, you actually were looking for that question without knowing. You opened your mouth, speechless, staring at his black coat as you couldn't raise your eyes. There was a lot of things you could ask, but you couldn't think or say anything.

“Attention?” he suggested, even if it was insensitive. “Freedom?”

Your eyes lit up with hope and happiness, getting closer again, looking at him like a pleading dog. “I swear I will do my job. Just... Just give me free time here. To all of us.” you didn't noticed your arrogance getting washed with the rain. “And take care of us like you do with all the Dreaming.”

“I can't make promises for all the nightmares, but I swear I'll think about what you said.” this time you felt a bit of kindness in his tone, but he was still like a stone, even under the rain. “Now, please, talk about yourself. I'll give your freedom, but it'll take time. These are your wishes only?”

“I...” you hesitated. Blinking fast, looked away, a little red coming to your face. Dream got concerned about what was coming, but his silent got filled with curiosity. “We didn't had much time together. So... I would like to ask for it too.”

“You want time with me?” he wanted for you to be specific, you noticed. That made you stare angrily, almost pissed off. “Perhaps I can arrange it. Would that be all?”

You were going to give him some of your characteristic poison at his curiosity and subtle attempt to make you confess whatever he thought you wanted, but you gave up. There were more important things to me talked about there, under the rain.

“I'm sure you're not asking any of this shit to the others. Why me? Why I'm the only one with options and requirements?” crossed arms, raising an eyebrow. He shifted his weight on his feet, and looked away for a second.

“You are young. I know my mistakes with the others, and I also know all of them pretty well.” then his gaze changed. Something became softer; whether it was for the subject, or any thought of his. “I want to try with you. To be present and to listen to you. This way, I'll be better with the next nightmares. I hope you're okay with that.”

Yes, yes you were. More than you could possibly expect you to be. It was frustrating to see yourself giving up from all your walls, so desperate for any sign of affection from him. “With what? Being your scapegoat for redemption? No, I'm not okay with that. But it's better than nothing”.

And he smiled. Subtly, only one corner lifting, his eyes with fondness. Damn, you weren't ready to see him smiling for the very first time. He seemed to notice that, and got even more amused.

He lifted a hand, slowly placing it in your cheek. And with thunder and cold breezes, you felt your face burn. Locked your gaze on his, surprised, frozen by the first physical contact you both have ever shared.

“I'm genuine. I do want to try. So, please, allow me to.” you could barely breathe as his expressions were actually expressive, not the old plain thing. It was a lot, seeing him being emotional for the first time. “Forgive me for my absence. Captured or not. All I want is to redeem myself.”

With the other hand, he used the tip of his fingers, gently, to brush some sticky wet hair out of your forehead. You almost stepped back, still processing that he was actually touching you. “Is there anything else I can give you? I do not wish to buy your forgiveness; earn it, perhaps. I'm just trying to be...”

“Kind?” you suggested as he didn't seem to find the word. He agreed with a smile that made you shake from head to toe. And guess what? He got worried. “I'm fine. It's just the rain.”

“The sky is certainly pouring, you should go. I'm sorry for interrupting your plans, shall we meet tomorrow?” you agreed with your head after long-lasting seconds of trying to think. “Thank you for this opportunity. Now, if you allow me...”

Holy fucking endless shit, you thought. Only thought, because you couldn't even move, completely paralyzed with shock.

The Lord of the Dreams was embracing you. Arms in wet cloth squeezed tight, and you could feel his chin above your head, rain falling down his body to yours, and to the ground. You felt everything. Your senses became totally aware, could hear every breath and feel every touch — whether from the raindrops, or his. All at once, you got yourself remembering every time you imagined this moment. The moment you would feel Morpheus. When you would touch him, and be certain that, yes, he is not just a dream. He's real. And he's there.

He was there. You felt it as you wrapped your arms around his waist. It was not imagination or daydreams, it was Dream itself, chest moving against your face on his wet overcoat as he breathe. Then, just for the sake of humor — or because you said your thoughts without noticing —, you whisper: “I could totally kiss you right now.”

He was surprised. Of all kinds of requests and curious things a nightmare could ask, a kiss would never be on the list. But, well, there was nothing bad that could happen. Actually, he would win way much more with it than you. So he touched your face again. Gently, raising your eyes to his. You couldn't believe it, and you couldn't react to it.

It felt like slow motion as he approached your faces, closing his eyes as if it wasn't an unexpected and uncomfortable moment. You froze as your lips touched under the rain. He was delicate, taking his own time to adjust to you, and for you to adjust to him. You didn't had to move for your lips to fit perfectly, Morpheus taking yours on his, slow and focused, waiting for you.

And you answered it.

Hands on his shoulders, which started sliding to different places as you took his lips hungrily. Not because you were crazy to have him in a bed, but for the fact that you wanted to feel more of him.

He's here, you kept repeating to yourself. He's finally here.

None of you cared when tongues started locking, both exploring and dancing. Your hands touched where they were allowed — wet neck, hair, face, under the coat to reach the back, down the arms to the hands —, never stopping and never getting enough. Dream was calm, cupping your face on his hands, then sliding one down to your waist. You only parted when air ran out your lungs, not opening your eyes as you breathe still close to each other. You almost, almost held his hand, tugging on the sleeve, the other one craving nails at the wet cloth of his shoulders. He's here, repeating in your mind. And he, he was smiling, leaning towards your forehead.

“We have a lot to talk about.” he whispered. “In our next meeting, of course. Not now, under the rain”.

You couldn't answer. Feelings swirled on your mind, so many things to process and register. But you smiled. You smiled because you were happy. He's here.

“I called you by Morpheus a lot of times.” whispered too, recognizing the delicacy of the moment.

“Don't let anyone know this. It will be our secret.” damn, you liked how he said it.

But it was time to leave. You both looked like stray wet cats, the streets only filled by people with umbrellas or cars. Thunders and lightings were violent, the rain getting heavier. You would stay there forever anyways. But he was moving away, feeling as fingers slide to release each other. And as he got away, your feelings were being taken from you. Stay, you wanted to say. You were gone for one century; please, stay.

“We must part our ways now. Don't worry, I said I would give you whatever you asked. I'll do it.” he meant you would see each other again. It was a promise, a vow. Something you both wanted to believe. A little spark of hope, something new and, in some sort of way, naive, to take care of.

As you didn't answered, he only agreed with his head, bowing slightly. Avoiding your look, sand rose from the ground, swirling around him with raindrops.

“Morpheus! I... I did something bad.” his gaze instantly fell upon you, the sand slowing down. “I killed and I gutted. Only bad men! But I did it.”

His face could fall to the ground. He was shocked, horrified. Disappointed. And he made sure you would notice that. Then he faded in sand, not caring if ordinary people would see it. You stood there. Soaked wet, confused. But smiling. Smiling like a fool, touching your lips, not believing what just happened.

Maybe killing men wasn't the something bad you did.

I know, that's a lot of rain. I thought about making it rain later, but, hey, who doesn't love pneumonia?

Please please pleeease, tell me what you think about this. About the reader, about my representing of Morpheus, anything. I really need your opinions.

Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

And as I always say, English is not my first language and I'm a self-taught. Please forgive any grammatical errors. See ya! 💙

[kinkforwings]

So imagine that a random someone or one of Hob's student sees Hob and Dream on one of their meet-ups (post ep 6), and started shipping them. And one day, Dream, who while browsing his library in the dreaming, finds new books about his friend in a relationship with a 'emo goth twink with eyeliner'. (Because fanfiction will definitely exist and appear in Dream's library because the shit I read on AO3 is better than most books out there) He figures out in the end that the goth is supposed to be him with little difficulty because poor guy was locked in a fishbowl when Twitter, Tumblr, AO3 got invented, he obviously doesn't know shit about modern technology. And he is like who and why would someone write this? And this is how he figures out his feelings for Hob. Cue sad goth and immortal lover boy getting a happy ending.

Bonus 1: The person that started the fandom named him Dram because he looks like all ethereal and someone's wet dream, and that's how the ship came to be known as Dreamling in that universe too.

Bonus 2: Joanna Constantine and Rose also find out about the whole thing on accident.

Bonus 3: The next time Dream sees the person who created the Dreamling fandom in that universe, he will watch the person with knowing eyes, knowing how much they would panic and get embarrassment but they also be smug because they made that ship cannon.

[melancholypancakes]

Witch! Y/n and Dream of the Endless Talk

Dream: Calm down. 

Witch! Y/n: I don’t feel like forgiving, Desire! 

Dream: you don’t understand we must. 

Witch! Y/n: If you’re not going to listen, you can just go! 

Dream: We must move past this Y/n. 

*Matthew overhears the conversation* 

Witch! Y/n: She lied to us so, we could kill that innocent girl! 

Witch! Y/n: She tricked us! Don’t you feel used and MANIPULATED?! 

Matthew: Dream? Y/n?-

Dream: You’re choosing to take it personally. 

Witch! Y/n: IT’S MORTALS! WHAT’S MORE PERSONAL THAN MORTALS?! WE HAVE TO TRUST EACH OTHER!!

Dream: I know, you’re still upset...

Witch! Y/n: Oh! so it’s just ME. 

Dream: of course not. Can’t you see I’m engulfed with rage... 

*Dream showing no emotion at all* 

*Witch! Y/n looking angrier by the second* 

Witch! Y/n: Well, It doesn’t feel like IT. 

Dream: The sooner we forgive Desire, the better it will be for us all. 

*Witch! Y/n getting frustrated* 

Witch! Y/n: YOU’RE NOT AS ABOVE THIS ARE YOU THINK YOU ARE!

Dream: Yes, I am. 

*Witch! Y/n angry, grumble noises* 

Dream: You can’t stay angry at her forever. 

Witch! Y/n: Want to bet. 

Dream: Y/n...The carpet. 

*Witch! Y/n burning the floor from her feet with fire* 

Witch! Y/n: YOU! I CAN’T EVEN! UGH! 

*Witch! Y/n storms out of the throne room* 

[void-tiger]

Warning: Sandman Spoilers.

(I’d plop a Read More here except I can never remember how to do that in mobile, mobile is much friendlier in layout to how my brain functions than the full web-on-computer will ever be, and Readmores flatout break my ability to edit, say, tags after I hit that Post button.)

-

-

Right. Okay.

…I think what irritates me about the Endless Siblings?

Delirium Can Do No Wrong Because She Baby (which is true. We dunno what shit happened to her that forced her to shift from Delight to Delirium, but we know it was BAD) even when she torments mortals for her Games (just less maliciously than Desire and Despair; it’s debatable if she’s fully Aware of the consequence of what she’s doing), even when Delirium’s (understandable!) demand to have Destruction back actively kills people!

Or Destruction—who LEFT and almost demands the others to leave as well despite Not All Of Them CAN Leave (and to be frank? Him abandoning his post despite having Creation as his counter-domain is probably why, say, warfare became SO destructive SO rapidly followed by a technological boom)—and literally planted what might as well have been BOMBS in his closest friends if any of his siblings tried to find him.

Or Desire—who fucks around and NEVER has to find out. Who actively targets Dream and blames Dream for their bad relationship with their older brother…and never takes any accountability for their own part in it and continued active antagonism and actively trying to DESTROY Dream either by spilling family blood and igniting the Kindly Ones’ Wrath and using Dream’s Own Function against him…or by risking Dream shifting into something Not Dream Any Longer. (And the absolute Irony of Desire being the one (1) sibling to EVER help, then gets pissed off and antagonizes further. Gee, Desire. I wonder why Dream doesn’t ask and if he asks you he asks you last!)

Or Despair. Who plays games beyond her function, and this aspect of Despair seemingly ignoring her counter-function of Hope, and is a co-conspirator albeit passive co-conspirator in Desire’s torment of Dream in much the same way as a pair of school-aged Mean Girls

Or Destiny. Who so rarely shows that he cares, uses his Book as a Defense Mechanism Excuse in a similar way as Dream does his Pride (and being prickly by-nature but most of his standoffish-ness is honestly a defense against Holding ALL Of Subconscious + His Family’s A Bunch Of Assholes (Too)). And if he does anything “outside his Book” or “finally acts within the Book” …he denies it’s because he cares. It’s to berate for showing up in jeans or someone else leaving their stuff in his room (even when someone else left it)

Or Death. Who had her own Edgelord Phase that lasted for eons before her younger siblings even existed. Who never once actually came to help yet berates Dream for not asking her when he wound up in Serious Trouble…again. (And not by his own fault, unless you want to count fixing a past mistake seriously draining him to the point he could he snared by Desire’s (and Despair’s but mostly Desire’s) Trap.)

…They’re ALL Assholes, Jared!

But only ONE of them is held to a standard none of the rest of them even bother to live to and gets actively punished for it at every turn, even when he tries to reach out, do better. (And yes, Morpheus!Dream has some serious fuckups. But. So do the rest of them. And he’s kinda the only one held accountable for them + some things that really aren’t his fault or are actively traumatic and he doesn’t really have a way to safely recover from without, y’know, affecting the Dreaming and all the dreamers! And it’s not for a lack of trying or continuing to try, despite his natural stubbornness, prickliness, introversion, and avoidance!)

[swanimagines]

MELODY OF THE NIGHT | MORPHEUS

Summary: You've been distancing yourself from Morpheus, because you know he's an Endless and can't be romantically involved with humans, but you can't bear being with him while knowing you can't have him. He comes over to your house and demands to know what's the matter. It ends unexpectedly.

It had been weeks. You had known it was forbidden for Endless to be romantically involved with mortals, but your stupid heart had still developed feelings for him. It had been too painful to endure, so you willed yourself not to visit The Dreaming anymore, and avoided Morpheus in your dreams as well - not that you actually had the power to do that, but Morpheus knew when someone didn't want him to appear so he didn't.

When your doorbell had rang, you had to admit that you hadn't expected who was on the other side of the door, even when it should have been obvious. Morpheus stood there, looking as gorgeous as always. Compared to you - messy hair, looking like you didn't sleep properly, in your t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Hi, um... sorry, I'm kind of busy here," you mumbled to him, not really even looking at him.

Morpheus sighed, clearly knowing it was a lie. "May I come in?"

It wasn't really a question, but you still nodded. He came into your apartment and closed the door behind himself. You tapped your tea mug nervously as you stood in front of him. You didn't know what to say to him, really. You were embarrassed, angry, and frustrated all at once. Your emotions made you feel out of control, which in turn only increased your frustration and your embarrassment.

"I do not understand why you will not talk to me," Morpheus said, his voice soft. He looked hurt, or maybe just disappointed.

His words hit you like a hammer. You took a deep breath. "Because I... I just... I can't visit you anymore."

He frowned. "Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it." you replied quickly. If you told him, you knew he'd sigh and explain what could happen. He would also say he doesn't love you back.

This time, Morpheus didn't press any further, but he did look upset. He stayed silent after that for several minutes. Eventually, he spoke again. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" you exclaimed. You shook your head, trying to get some of your thoughts together. "No, it's... it's me."

Morpheus moved closer to you. "Then why..."

"Just leave me alone," you snapped. "I told you I don't want to talk about it, and I mean it."

"But-" he started, but you cut him off.

"Dream, please, stop," you pleaded. "You've already caused enough trouble by showing up here. Just go away."

"I do not understand," he whispered. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened," you muttered. "And I can't let anything to happen, I can't control... just leave me alone."

Morpheus seemed truly confused now. He didn't seem angry, though, and he didn't argue. He just continued to stare at you, his expression unreadable. "You are one of the first humans I consider a friend. I need to know-"

Next thing you didn't even think about doing. Your feelings just rushed forward, spilling over and you grabbed his coat and tugged him close and pressed your lips against his.

Morpheus froze, just as you had expected and you pulled back before he had a chance to, breaking off the kiss. You stared into his eyes, panting slightly. "This is why I've been avoiding you," your voice broke mid-sentence, tears now cascading over your cheeks. "I know it's wrong, we can't be together."

"What?" Morpheus asked, bewildered.

"I love you," you admitted. It felt like the hardest sentence you ever uttered. "I can't keep it in, I just keep thinking about how I want to wake up with you, and I dream about you all the time, and I hate myself for feeling this way. I ruined our friendship the moment I developed those feelings for you, and I'm sorry, but I can't stop loving you, and I can't bear to see your disappointment in me."

Morpheus stared at you for a long moment, watching you sniffling in front of him, before you felt a hand sliding down your cheek and wiping away your tears. "Where did you hear we could not be together?" he asked, gently.

"I... I found it in a book. You had fallen in love with a woman named Nada and the Sun punished her for it."

Morpheus was quiet as he thought about that. "It is true," he then said. "But rules have changed since then. You are not allowed to rule The Dreaming with me or marry me until you are dead, but I am allowed to love you."

His words echoed in your head for a moment before you registered them, and looked up at him. "What?"

"I have loved you ever since we first met," he explained. "I cannot help it. I will never stop. Even if you stop talking to me, even if you stop visiting me, I will always love you. I needed to know if I can fix our friendship, but I did not know you feel the same way about me, and that is why you stopped visiting me."

You blinked at him, almost thinking this was a dream... or at least a daydream. But it felt too real to be one - and in dreams, you knew Morpheus would be controlling what he'd say."

"So you love me?" you asked hesitantly.

Morpheus nodded. "Yes. Yes, I do love you."

You stared at him for a few moments longer, unsure what to say, before you felt your lips growing into a wide smile. "Well, I love you too," you said, pressing another kiss on his lips, and this time, he returned it.

And on that moment, you knew it - this was going to work. Even though it was a risk to love him, you were willing to take it - because you believed he deserved your love more than anyone else in the world.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You: E for Edging

Summary: Hell hath no pettiness like a woman ignored.

Notes: ~4k words of pure POR-, Dream in this fic can be summed up as "the light is on but no one is home", reader gives big bratty energy and I love that for her honestly (same)

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Sub!Dream, orgasm denial, edging (duh), unprotected intercourse, p in v, handjob, blowjob, riding, takin' it from da back

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Previous ⇆ Next

How busy could a monarch possibly be? 

You sit on the plush couch, quietly seething like the crackling fireplace that accompanies you. It should be your husband who should be accompanying you instead. The book you were supposedly reading has long since become words on a page, the letters merging together and tangling within themselves. You dejectedly shut the book with a bang as you realize you’ve been rereading the same line with no progress for the past hour. 

You understand that Morpheus’ duties are never ending, as endless as his name, but would it really kill him to spend a few hours a day with you? With a sigh, you toss the book onto the ottoman and stand, your bones groaning as they finally move after hours of staying still. A bath wouldn’t sound half bad right now. 

Another sigh of relief leaves you as you enter the bathhouse. The large communal bath of natural spring waters was completely empty. You still take a quick glimpse around before stripping yourself before submerging into the hot water, the sudden change in temperature making your nipples perk. The temperature burns you for a moment, but you soon become acclimated to it. You completely submerge yourself, the natural hum of The Dreaming deafens as you do, and with all of your pent up frustrations, you scream into the water, watching as the air leaves your lips in large, aggressive bubbles that swim to the surface. 

“Anyway,” You say to yourself when you resurface, already feeling much better. 

You move to the side, grabbing at a bar of soap, and begin to lavish it across your skin, feeling the soothing effect glide over your skin. The water was doing wonders on your muscles and the hum that leaves your lips was that of satisfaction. 

“There you are,” Morpheus’ voice echoes in the empty room. 

You turn slowly as you look at him, your body fully submerged in the water, except for anything above your nose. You stay quiet, too vexed with him to say anything of note. Instead, you turn away and continue washing your body. 

“Are you that angry with me?” He continues and you hear the faint rustling of him removing his clothes and him walking into the bath soon after. The still water sloshes around his waist as he continues his path towards you and you soon feel his cooler limbs wrap around your body. 

“Have you missed me?” He murmurs into your neck as he rests his head there. The comfort of your skin against his revitalizes his tired body. 

The grip you had on the soap turns bone-crushing at his question. Have you missed me? You repeat his question in your head in a mocking tone. He surely needs to be punished for leaving you alone for so long. A plan is quick and easy to form in your head and a sly smile crawls on your lips. 

You turn in his arms, the same smile on your lips as you look up at him. 

“Dearly,” You answer back and press your lips to his. The heat of the bathhouse increases the heat that grows at your core. “Let me show you how much, my love.”

The suds of the soap drips down your hand as you continue to lather the bar with your one hand. The other hand is placed commanded on his shoulder to prevent him from running away, as if he would ever do so from your touch. A smile appears on his face as well as your sudsy hand trails down his chest and closer to his nether regions. 

It is of no surprise to you when you already feel his half erection greeting you beneath the waters. Your slippery fingers grasp around the shaft and a broken gasp leaves Dream’s mouth. You meticulously move your hands along his cock as you wickedly watch as he throws his head back in pleasure. His Adam’s apple bobs with each beautiful sound that comes out of his throat and you don’t restrain yourself from wrapping your lips around the protruding piece.

Slowly, your hand increases in pace, gripping his cock tighter as you do so, the water and soap assisting you as your fingers glide across the skin. His moans and groans soon turn breathless and he’s simply breathing hard and desperate against your hand. The sounds echoed across the walls of the bathhouse. 

His hands shoot out of the water as he grabs the back of your neck, looking deeply into your eyes as your hand continues its ministrations. His eyebrows crease as his dick jumps in your hand, mouth open in a silent plea as his orgasm comes closer to its peak. A whisper of your name like a prayer falls from his lips and both of you know he won’t last long. Morpheus closes his eyes in anticipation as his muscles tense below his skin. 

His eyes snap open as your fingers leave him, pushing yourself back away from his body and he’s left standing on wobbly legs. The water ripples from his trembling and close orgasmed body. 

“What-”

“Would you look at the time? I should go to bed now. Good night, Morpheus,” You cut him off with a firm hand. 

His eyes follow you as you walk out of the bath. Eyes lingering on the roundness of your ass cheeks as they pop out further as you climb up the stairs. His feet stay planted in the bath as you wrap yourself in a towel. He stays still even as you leave the room without a second glance at you. He could finish himself off, but he knows it wouldn’t be as good as your hands.

The next day, you catch Morpheus and yourself by surprise as you see him standing along the aisles of the library. Embarrassment floods your system as you vividly remember what transpired the other day. Never had you defied him so easily… and felt so happy to do so.

You peek over the bookshelf you were half hiding behind. Morpheus had an off-glazed look in his eyes. His finger was resting on the spine of a book and he kept it there for a while. If you squint you don’t think he was even breathing. You walk up to him, his gaze still not noticing you. A tap on his shoulder was enough to garner his attention, and he seemed to snap out of his zombie-like state after seeing you. 

“Are you all right, my dear?” You ask in truth. His distracted demeanor is a cause for concern. 

Almost immediately his eyes harden and a frown grows on his face. 

“You,” He growls down at you. “You left me wanting last night, denying me such a thing like that is cruel.”

You huff at his accusation. If denying one orgasm is cruel, what does he call leaving you alone for days on end then? 

“Want me to make it up to you?” You reply coyly and with a smile. Your fingers go to the lapels of his jacket and smooth over them. 

A quizzical brow raises itself at your compromise but his will dejects with a sigh. “How would you do that, dearest?”

“Well, I could…” You trail off as your fingers down his chest, just like the night before. You feel the sturdiness of the chest and how his heartbeat thrums beneath your fingers. He’s so real for the physical manifestation of a concept. “I could do something better than last night?” 

He hums as your fingers ghost over the hem of his jeans, feeling his happy trail and the depth of the lines that lead itself to his cock. You cup at his growing hardness through the rough material and his hands once again go to you, holding you gently on your waist. 

His eyes hold yours as you sink to your knees before him, a smile still evidently on your face. You don’t bother looking away when your fingers pop the button, nor when you pull at the zipper, his breath growing heavier at each tick of the metal. Your fingers tickle gently over the length of him behind the thin cloth of his underwear. 

His hand grabs at the root of your hair as his hips impatiently bucks into your face. With a flat tongue, you press the wet appendage over the tip of him, wetting the cloth underneath as you trace around his frenulum. The smell of his manhood invades your senses as you do so and your eyes roll to the back of your head at his soft moan. 

A little pull is all you need for his cock to spring out of its confinement, hot and heavy and leaking with excited precum. You feel its warmth as your soft lips kiss his tip, taking your hands around his base. You lick at the precum carefully then and his grip strengthens in your hair. 

“You said it would be better. Enough teasing,” He commands and you feel your lips tug into a barely containable smile. 

Without debate you wrap your lips around his tip, suckling at the supple skin. The bookshelf he leans against rattles as his head slams into the wooden material. You take down another inch while your hand continues to work his base. Saliva drips through your lips, creating a trail down a vein as you continue to suckle. 

A guttural groan tells you to go deeper, and you do until you feel him hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes begin to tear slightly at the large intrusion, but you push through for your master plan. You hollow out your throat, taking him down the tight cavern, and relish in the feeling of his thighs flexing under your fingers. 

Your nails dig into his thigh muscles as you bob your head back and forth on his weeping cock, the filthy mixture of saliva and pre-cum rests deliciously on your tongue. Morpheus has started to curse from above you at the warm fit. The Dreaming around you begins to hum louder as you pull back on his cock, sucking as hard as you could with him in your mouth. 

His dick jumps in your mouth, his telltale sign that he is close to his orgasm. That and your name falling from his lips once again. His hand has yet to leave your hair as his hips try to take over by bucking themselves into your mouth each time you try to pull back. His thigh muscles spasm each second that passes and just as he’s about to see the stars, you remove your lips with a satisfying pop. 

Cold air wraps around his cock instead of your warm mouth and he does his best to stop the whine that almost escapes his lips. Morpheus’ breath is ragged above you and his frown returns as he glares down at you. You looked perfect like this to him, on your knees, cheeks flushed, hair messy, and eyes watery. The only thing wrong with the picture was your satisfied grin that spread across your face and that very obvious fact that your mouth isn’t being put to use satisfying him. 

“What do you-”

“Oh my, I think I hear Lucienne coming. I should go, goodbye, Morpheus!” You cheerfully lie as you stand and briskly walk away. 

Lucienne was, of course, nowhere to be seen in the library. Both of them knew she was out gathering the consensus for the new year. Morpheus groans as he presses his palms into his eyes. You were going to be the death of him, even without trying. He’s starting to finally think that you were up to something, that devious smile of yours still flashes across his mind when he closes his eyes. He carefully puts his softening cock back into his pants as he absentmindedly thinks to himself. He doesn’t even remember why he was in the library to begin with. 

Morpheus’ thoughts trail with him throughout the day and even the Dreaming residents notice the forlorn face that he wore. It was said that while he was attending to his duties and upholding the Dreaming, it was almost barely viable. His attitude turned sour and only answered Matthew’s questions with a simple grunt or resounding “no” (not much of a change there if you were to ask the bird). Lucienne was less than amused but unable to find you to help fix this issue, she kept quiet and hoped it would pass quickly with time. 

That night, you were back on that couch, the fireplace was going again and the book you were reading was back in your hands. You’re freshly washed and enjoying the soft fabric of your summer’s nightgown as your feet tangle with the soft furs of the rug. This time, you did manage to read a few chapters but after a while, your thoughts went to the faces Morpheus made each time you denied his orgasm and a chuckle shakes through you. Surely this will teach him to never leave you alone for more than a couple days at a time. 

The Dreaming this and The Dreaming that, well, next time he will remember that you too are a part of his world if he should ever want to feel the sweet release of his orgasm again. You’re sure the last two days have been Hell for him, but it was all worth it. That desperate look on his face was like sweet victory trickling down your throat, smooth and refreshing. 

The door to your shared room opens with a bang causing you to drop your book in surprise. You look at Morpheus with wide eyes as you’re completely caught off by his sudden intrusion. Words fail you as he swiftly makes his way to you, standing in front of you with his lips tugging downwards. A scoff leaves you as you realize he’s pouting at you. 

“What ever is the matter, sweet Morpheus?” You tease in an almost condescending, sickly sweet voice. 

“You’re punishing me.” It wasn’t a question. He states it loud and clear. It had taken him all day to decipher your actions. The thought had been chasing him for the past two days, but he was always faster than it, jittering from denied orgasms and responsibilities to accomplish. 

“No!” You gasp with exaggeration. “We were simply interrupted!” 

Morpheus stays silent at your blatant lie, if anything you basically smacked him with a sign that read “yes, obviously, you numb-nut of a lover.” He doesn’t bother to move either, his eyes betraying his pseudo-domineering stance at the moment. 

“Well, good conversation then,” You mutter to yourself as you pick up your book again. You turn to the page you left off on and begin to read again. 

Morpheus’ gaze burned two holes into the top of your head as you read. Not before long, another surprised noise leaves you as he plucks the book from your hands and throws it off into some unknown corner of the room. 

“Lucienne is going to murder you for treating her books like that,” You comment with a cross of your arms. 

“She’ll survive,” He growls down at you. He’s met with your brow raising in turn, in which he finally pieces the last piece together. “Are you acting out because I’ve been neglecting you?”

Dang, he really hit the nail in the head with that one. You turn your head to the side, arms still crossed as you respond. 

“Well, I certainly got your attention this time.”

“I’d say,” He muses. He sits down by your feet, the white fur of the rug in stark contrast to his outfit. The fireplace softens his sharpness with its warm glow as you look at him from above. 

You think the conversation was over then, it seemed like the two of you came to a conclusion. Getting up from the couch, you try to walk over to the corner the book was lying in, but are stopped almost immediately as he holds onto your wrist. 

“How can I make it up to you, my love?” He asks and the pout almost makes it to his lips again. And, well, how can you say no to a face like that? 

You join him on the rug, hands cupping at his face. He leans into your touch, the moment endearing as you look at him. 

“Did we learn anything?” You ask.

“Yes.”

“Lay down for me, darling. And let’s get rid of the clothes,” You hum. 

The change is instantaneous as he lays down per your request. The furs caress against your shins as you move to straddle him, picking up the helms of your nightgown in the process. Your arousal starts to drip out of you at the sight before you. Reducing a King to nothing but a needy lover was a sight for fond eyes. It’s the thought of knowing that he could easily overpower you if he so wanted, but relinquishing all his power just so you may touch him? Delicious. 

Your pussy lips slide across the length of him as you get comfortable sitting on his lap. Morpheus’ hands easily find themselves, once again on your waist. How he wished you would strip for him as well, but he doesn’t voice his want in case you decided against touching him tonight. 

Leaning over, you go to kiss him, feeling his soft lips against yours and even you can’t deny your body when it grinds down over his cock. A satisfied hum emits from your throat as his hands wander over the curve of your ass and you leave his lips to give him bruising kisses along his pale skin. You are a painter and he is a canvas where you will show the world how much you loved him. Red blooms across the soft skin, his grip on you tightening. 

His hips thrust upwards with a moan, to which you defiantly sit down harder on him to prevent him from moving anymore. Your name falls from his lips in a hushed whisper, barely audible over the crackling fire. It sends a tug into your core, to hear it in such reverence. With heavy breath, you lean back and watch as his lips try to chase you. 

Morpheus stops himself short when he sees you raising slightly, hand moving between the two of you and firmly grabbing at his cock. You guide himself under you, teasing him a bit more by sliding his tip across the length of your slit. His mouth opens in protest, but before words can come out, you sink yourself onto him. 

Harmonious groans tangled with each other at the feeling. The familiar stretch of him leaves you panting above him. Your warmth was incomparable to your hands or mouth and Morpheus’ nails left small crevices in your thighs. The slight pain grounds you from drifting off into a complete world of pleasure. It takes a few moments for you to start moving your hips, the size of him taking a few moments to adjust to. The first drag of his cock in you leaves you shaking already. It had been too long since you had last felt the touch of his skin against yours. 

With your hands bracing themselves on his chest, you begin your bounces, keeping a rhythm that you like. Morpheus is like putty beneath your fingers, grasping at any part of you that he could in his throes of pleasure. His hair is beyond tussled, his lips dry and parted as noises accompany the slap of your thighs against his. 

Each bounce makes his tip kiss against your cervix, your walls fluttering around him in a vice like grip at how well you took him. It was familiar but exciting each time you took him again and again. The smell of sex accompanies the smell of burning wood on the floor as your thighs shake in exhaustion. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You whine out as you realize your rhythm starts to slow down. 

You settle to grind on him instead, loving the way the new maneuver has his tip rubbing against the spongy spot in you. You gasp with your head thrown back as you’re about to reach your peak. 

Morpheus stares at you in awe, sweat highlights your skin in the lowlight and your breasts bounce with each grind you push down onto him. Your hands brace themselves on his thighs as you feel your orgasm impeding slowly into your system. Just a few more like this and you would be done for and Morpheus would soon follow. 

Another mischievous idea pops into your head through the haze of pleasure. With the remainder of your strength, you rise, letting his cock slip out of you. Morpheus whines this time, unable to hold it back as his hands grip your waist trying to pull you back onto him, to let you ride him into oblivion. 

You feel his heat as you hover over his cock, panting into his neck. You may have denied your own orgasm, but seeing his teary and begging eyes was exactly what you wanted. His chest heaves with annoyance as a familiar frown makes its way onto his face. 

“What do you think you are doing? I am going to kill you,” He accuses beneath you. The insult leaves his mouth but both of you know he would never follow through with it. 

“I think… ha…” You’re still panting, cardio has never been your strong suit. “I think I’m too tired. I should turn in for the night, my love.” 

“Surely you are joking,” He laughs void of any actual amusement. 

“No, no, I’m just sooo tired. Yeah.” You fake a yawn as you unstraddle his waist. 

His eyes trail you as you stand on wobbly legs, using the couch as a crutch as a halfway point to your shared bed. 

“Absolutely not,” He comments as his hand brings you down again having you kneeling before the couch.

He’s quick to appear behind you, running his fingers down your spine to rest on your hip. The sensation leaves you weak and limp, bracing on the seat of the couch and resting your head on your arms. A kiss to the center of your shoulder blades is the only warning he gives before he inserts himself into you again. 

Morpheus doesn’t wait as he picks up a brutal pace, each thrust he gives you communicating his frustrations. The legs of the furniture scratch the floor beneath it as it rocks with your body. You’re left, once again, panting in pleasure at the drag of his cock within your walls. 

His grip on your hip is enough to bruise, to remind you of your passionate night the day after. His other hand snakes in front of your neck, pushing your face upwards, scattering your broken moans into the air. 

The orgasm you denied yourself comes back with full force, your eyes shutting as you feel it searing through you. With help from Morpheus, as he thrusts forward into you, your lower lips clamp down onto him, releasing your cum over the front of his highs in a satisfying orgasm. Your back bows forward at the release and you’re left panting into the cushions. 

“Let me cum,” He weakly commands as he feels your slick coating him.

“Please, yes! Cum,” You moan, riding through your orgasm as he continues pumping into you. 

He bites down on your shoulder, his groan muffled between your skin as he climaxes into you. His cock twitches in you as he cum releases into the deepest part of your being. You feel as if your mind is full of cobwebs as he stays in you, keeping you full until his erection turns soft. 

The softness of your shared bed barely registers in your mind as he moves the two of you over. The blanket is placed over your naked bodies and he pulls you close. His lips press into your temple as he chants mantras of his devotion to you as you fall asleep in his arms a satisfied smile on his face. 

This time, Morpheus has learned his lesson as he stares adoringly at your peaceful face. How could he ever forget something like that?

Time to get back to that angst fic, but we can enjoy this as like... a palate cleanser or something

I'm now on Ao3! The fics are very slowly getting added when I have the energy to. I never knew how in-depth the tagging system went and I get tired looking at it...

♡ Yours, Layla

[darlingdekarios]

reverie.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 3,209 content: Morpheus / Dream of the Endless x f!reader, established relationship, sleep deprivation, mention of medication abuse, angry & possessive Dream, porn with plot, smut [throne sex, oral - giving, fingering - receiving, unprotected p in v]

what you'd intended to be a lesson taught to him Dream of the Endless turns to a lesson for you.

“Why have you been hiding yourself from me?” the familiar cadence filled your ears before the vision took form before you. The fog cleared, you could easily make out the mess of dark hair atop his head, his skin radiant in the eternal night glow, the stars shining in his eyes. Morpheus, the King of Dreams, perched on his throne as he awaited your response – one that you would have been foolish to think he wouldn’t demand eventually.

You’d last seen him an entire moon past, the weeks the first in eons that Morpheus found himself conscious of the passing time, and while in the larger scale of existence the time that passed meant nothing, to Morpheus, those were the first weeks he felt the pain of a ticking clock. You’d done everything to repress your dreams, to stay away from him, following the argument that the two of you had the last time you were together. The direct cause didn’t matter anymore, all that either of you had clung to was the heart of it all – Morpheus was a petty being. And though you were not Endless like he, that pettiness was only matched by your own.

You’d been taking a cocktail of medications and weed to numb your sleep at first, a successful attempt at withholding your mind from the Dreaming. When even that was overpowered by Morpheus, you’d opted for stimulants to force yourself to stay awake – though you were only human, and the sleep deprivation consumed you into the deep sleep you found yourself in now soon enough. It was never going to be forever, your punishment of him, your attempt at matching his attitude where it was…but you had to hope that it would communicate enough.

“I was dissatisfied at our last encounter in the Waking World, King of Dreams,” you gave your response as your feet carried you up several of the stairs to him, testing his anger. “You were not very kind to me.”

“And so, your response…” he began, his fingers twitching against the arms of his throne. His voice held no hint to indicate just how angry he was, and so you continued up the stairs in hope to make out his porcelain features soon enough. “Was to return my…shortcoming, with cruelty of your own?”

You knew he was likely to pick up on the playful smile that covered your features as it reached your voice – but you also didn’t care. “Precisely, my King. It only seemed fair.”

“Hmm,” he mused, attempting to cover the slight smile behind his voice as well. Though he’d seldom admit it, your quickness to mirror his own behavior when he deserved it often entertained him. “I suppose I did deserve to be withheld from you. And yet, it must be said that this long without you…it has been cruel.”

As he came into your view, the features of his face less indicative than you’d hoped, you approached with slow and intentional steps until you were just before him. Slowly sinking to your knees before him you gazed up between your lashes, your cheeks glowing the exact shade he always loved to see. If he were less angry, less petty, he would reach out to brush his fingers along one now – but the harshness of his mood toward your over-punishment had faltered far less than you’d hoped. Biting your bottom lip between your teeth briefly in nervousness, burning under the intensity of his eyes, you placed your hands experimentally on his thighs, maintaining the apologetic look – one far too innocent to be truly sincere.

“I guess we both have something to be sorry for, hmm?” You inquired as your hands slid higher onto his thighs, voice soft enough to coax him toward relaxation but serious enough to communicate you weren’t going to lighten on your stance. His jaw clenched slightly, the evidence he was still unwilling to falter himself.

“I learned my lesson weeks ago when you were simply numbing yourself from me, little one,” he chastised, his fingers twitching against his throne again as his want to touch you grew. Though he could now speak quietly – only to you – the anger present in his voice was now evident as he knew his words were only for you. “Your behavior these past couple of days…this absolute disregard for yourself…is what needs to be addressed now.”

“Are you angry because you were worried for my safety, my King?”

The question was taunting, attempting to push him into giving into you. With your hands sliding up his thighs as you leaned forward, reaching one hand to work open the button of his pants, it was growing harder to ignore the burn he felt for you.

“I am angry,” he began, eager to communicate what he needed to before his rough exterior completely faltered around you. “Because you threaten to harm someone very dear to me.”

“Those are different words for the same thing, Morpheus,” you taunted as you pressed a meaningful kiss to the top of his thigh, a quiet apology that he already knew you felt. One of his hands finally reached to grasp the hair at the back of your head, pulling you to rise to your knees until your face was mere inches from his. His grasp firm and a stern tone behind his words he leaned forward to brush the tip of his nose against yours, eyes piercing yours as his other hand reached to work his pants free from his waist.

“I do not enjoy being deprived of you,” he asserted as his hand at the back of your head slid to grasp your chin between his thumb and forefinger, an intensity and seriousness behind his eyes you’d never seen before…which was impressive considering intense and serious were in his nature. Behind it all lingered the anger still. “Do not do it again.”

You could barely bring yourself to nod, lost in the endless galaxies in his eyes, your mind desperately trying to focus on his words despite the fact that every cell that made up your body could do nothing but yearn for him. His grasp did not falter, his gaze holding yours still as he leaned forward to claim your lips in a heated, angry kiss, his desperation for you seeping through his every movement. Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching at the exquisite black fabric of the simple sweater he’d adorned himself in that day as you returned his kiss.

You began to trail your kisses down his perfectly smooth neck as he released his hold on your chin, both of his hands finding their way to your shoulders as you found yourself free of clothing. With an impatient tug at his shirt, you nipped at the skin of his neck eagerly, hoping your intent was clear without words. Thankfully, he took your sign to remove his shirt, leaving him gloriously bare before you. Your kisses trailed down the impossibly perfect frame before you until you reached his waist, placing a final kiss on his hip as one of your hands grasped his awaiting cock.

An impatient groan left his chest as his hand found the back of your head again, turning it toward his hardened length as his simple instruction – “open” – filled your ears and mind itself. Every movement he made was indicative of the anger he still harbored for you, and while your mind had to wonder if allowing the Endless his way was beneficial long-term, it was silenced by your fulfilled instinct to wrap your mouth around him.

As much as you loved listening to his voice, the sounds that left his mouth were the finest of them all – particularly the repressed groan that left erupted from his chest as your gaze connected with his once again. Grasping his fingers into your hair he thrust his hips up, pushing his cock further into your mouth and into your throat to urge you forward. Your pleasured moan vibrated through his body, your hands reaching to grasp his thighs as he found solace in the warmth of your mouth. As he began to repeat his thrusts into your mouth, he ensured you held his gaze, drinking in the sight of you coming undone for him – the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as he refamiliarized himself with your mouth, the drool dripping down your chin; perfectly imperfect and entirely for him.

“Don’t you know what you’re doing to me?” He inquired, fully aware that the only response you would offer were your fingernails digging into the tops of his thighs. “I do not wish to be angry with you, beloved.”

With a thrust hard enough, assuredly, to bruise your throat he pulled his throbbing cock free of your mouth, tilting your head back to look at his still-hardened face. Fighting for a proper breath you reached your hands to rest on his on either side of your face, nodding with your lips partially open in confirmation that you understood – pushing him this far was not an option again. He pulled you upward to reconnect your lips to his he kissed you harshly, releasing your face once you’d fully submitted to his kiss to lower his hands to grasp your hips.

Climbing to straddle his waist you immediately felt the intense wave of heat that rushed to your core. A blissful sigh slipped from your lips, your hands reaching to grasp into his tousled hair as ivory fingers slipped between your folds to test how wet you’d become for him. Ending at your clit and rubbing a gentle circle around the nub, there was no holding back your desperate moan which he gladly swallowed into the kiss.

“Although, I do think you enjoy when I’m angry with you,” he proclaimed as he released the kiss, his fingers sliding back toward your entrance to dip his forefinger into you teasingly. “Just feel how wet you are for me.”

Your hips jerked to his again, whimpering quietly at his long finger inside you, curling tantalizingly slow against the velvety patch within you, enjoying the way your mouth fell open for him once again and your eyes fluttered closed. Your hips jerked toward his hand, desperate for anything more he would offer you to take – the Dream Lord was often amused by your greed for his attentions. The friction of his palm against your clit pulled another moan from you, your hands grasping his shoulders desperately to steady yourself without his aid, hoping his hands would focus elsewhere.

Though he adored grasping your hips, he released his hold of you there to slide his unoccupied hand to your chest, cupping one of your breasts delicately as his cold thumb rubbed over your already-stiffened nipple. Somewhat bemused by the goosebumps that erupted across your skin at the feeling he took the nub between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it between the digits carefully before giving a harsh pinch – just as a second finger was added into your wet heat. Rolling your hips, you became keenly aware of the quiet, moaned pleas that were leaving your mouth, though the words sounded so foreign – it was always this way with him in the Dreaming, where nearly everything was too good to be true.

His fingers thrust into you expertly, his memory serving him well to remind him of all the ways to perfectly bend your body to his will until he felt your thighs begin to shake. As your walls clenched around his fingers ever-so-slightly tighter and your breathing hitched in your throat he removed his hand from your core, clicking his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly before leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. Once again, his tone was quiet – eerily resonating within your thoughts, almost as if Morpheus was inside your head, as well.

“Given how you’ve behaved so poorly these last weeks,” he began, his lips brushing yours in a tormentingly light kiss as he spoke. “Do you not think that you should have to beg me for your release?”

“Dream,” you whimpered, using the name only those closest to him seemed to these days, regretting the extra days you’d made yourself stay away from him. Your hips thrust toward his stilled hand, desperate for friction and to release the ecstasy that he’d built in you – though all you were met with was another opaque hum from his chest. “Please.”

You had to admit, you may have deserved the light smile that played on his lips – and despite its lightly sinister nature, you fawned at the realization he was beginning to falter for you. “I do enjoy the sounds of your pleas, little one. Perhaps you have more for me.”

A desperate whimper slipped through your lips as you attempted to seek a full kiss from him, your core grinding against his hand before he pulled it away entirely, grasping his admittedly throbbing cock in his hand. The view of his marble-esque hand around his own cock, languidly pumping himself as his eyes connected with yours, perhaps darker now than you had seen them before, always drove you to new depths of need for him – and you supposed that was quite the point.

“Please, Dream,” you whined, moving your kisses to his angled jaw where you knew he would not stop you. Your kisses trailed to his ear, breaths hot and desperate against the skin as you nibbled at his ear lobe. “I’ve learned my lesson, and I will never deny you again. Please, don’t deny me now. I cannot bare another moment.”

Turning his head to capture your lips in a heated kiss he guided his cock to your entrance, thrusting upward into your well-slickened walls entirely in one motion with a deep, appreciative groan. Your surprised cry bounced off the walls of the large chamber you sat in still, hands grasping at his shoulders as you accepted every inch of him until his velvety head knocked against your cervix. Normally, he would claim you in his bed, enjoying the look of you sprawled beautifully against his dark sheets – but tonight, his show of power included you riding his cock on his throne, knowing it would impart some message into your mind.

“You see how I reward you when you listen,” he groaned, his hand on your hip encouraging you to move your hips against his the moment he felt you adjust to him. With the perfect grind of your waist, he grasped at your hip tighter, his free hand reaching to grasp at the back of your head. Entangling his fingers in your hair he pulled backward slightly, leaning forward to press light kisses up the center of your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume as he went. “It could be this way always if you simply trusted in my desires for you.”

Unable to refute his argument you nodded as best you could with his grasp on your hair, lifting yourself off of his length temporarily before dropping down, rolling your hips to emphasize the movement. His grasp tightened in both places he held, his hips thrusting up into yours wantonly as he found himself unable to resist the temptation to give into you fully – after all, you were listening to him so well now. You moaned his name – several of his names – as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, your eyes rolling back slightly at the repeated feeling of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot within.

Still somewhat angry he’d had to wait this long to claim you again, his thrusts became relentless, nearly forgetting that it was possible to hurt you too much – not that you would ever complain about what he wanted to give you. Pushing your head forward again he slotted his lips against yours, his tongue immediately seeking the taste he’d missed for so many hours – wondering if you knew that was truly what dreams were made of. You were certain from his pace that in the morning you would wake with bruised hips, unable to go about your usual activities or obligations – though if you’d complained, Dream would assert the only obligation that truly mattered was the one you held to one another.

It never took him long to push you to orgasm when he decided it was time, and now was no exception – your walls fluttering around him with embarrassing speed as your thighs began to shake again. Your moans became lighter, shorter, more feral as your nails dragged down his chest, clamoring for anything to grab onto before they slid back up and around his neck. As your own fingers found their way into his hair and you gave a light tug your ears were filled with a prolonged moan, his head falling forward shortly after to connect his lips above your pulse. His words were quiet, deliciously convincing and seductive directly in your ear – an effect you knew he was striving for.

“Let me treat you as art, beloved,” he groaned, sucking his mark into his chosen spot on your neck. “I wish to paint your walls with my release. If you will permit me that, you may cum for me.”

All you could do was nod, moaning his name in affirmation as your walls clenched around him tighter, silently begging him to reach his end with you. As his thrusts became harsher and sloppier you tugged at his hair slightly again, thighs shaking nearly uncontrollably as his hand at your hip slid to use his thumb to rub circles against your clit. Throwing your head back in pleasure his name left your mouth as slightly less than a scream as euphoria rushed over you, your walls clamping around him as you felt him release ropes of hot cum within you accompanied with a groan.

You collapsed against his chest when you’d both finished, burying your face in his neck and whispering a quiet thank you as his black cloak appeared around your shoulders, shielding you from the cold and wrapping you up within him. Moments later – impossibly fast – you found yourself against the satin sheets of his bed, unbelievable comfort encompassing you as he held you against him with one arm around your waist. Once he was satisfied with your stabilized breathing he reached his free hand to cup your face in his hand, urging you to look him in the eye before exhaustion took you over.

“Do not deny me again, little one,” he spoke, his words gentler than before and yet still firm, his fingers brushing against your cheek tenderly in the gentlest motion he’d offered that night. “My lesson will not be as kind the second time.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you promised, the choice of words intentionally coaxing a light smile onto his face, reserved only for those who truly held his affections. Pulling you closer with arms around your waist he ushered you to relaxation, watching as your eyes closed again before he leaned forward to place gentle kisses against each of your eyelids.

“I will join you in the Waking World, beloved.”

The night was full of dreams, and your day would be endless reverie.

masterlist.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Eros: Chapter Three

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

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Material. 

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

Word Count: ~2.9k

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You’d stayed behind as the girls headed off to enjoy some time with the men who had charmed them. Most of the festivities had moved to the Parthenon, so you were surrounded by quietness and the sounds of waves. Finding yourself among halls that were usually filled with chattering people, beautiful people, you found yourself missing the Dreaming and your friends there. You needed a drink. 

Striding to a table with a jug of wine, you poured yourself a health cup before guzzling it in one go. The alcohol wouldn’t go to your head, you could drink all the wine in Greece and you wouldn’t get drunk. A sobering thought. There was nothing to take the edge off your emotions. Just as you poured your second cup, you felt his presence behind you.

“You are still missing the festivities, my lord,” You softly spoke, putting the jug of wine to the side. Then you turned around, only to find Oneiros standing directly behind you, now in front of you. He stared down at you, amusement in his eyes. 

“And still you think you know myself better than I,” 

“Have you considered the possibility that I might?” You challenged. His eyes flashed a silver glow.

“You dare—” Your hands raised to cradle his face, cutting the Endless off. From your heavenly touch or from the look in your eyes, the Endless didn’t know what had caused him to abruptly hold his tongue. 

“I do, because you are hurting,” you said straight to his face, your fingers lightly stroking his jaw line. “You are hurting, and you are angry, but you haven’t let those emotions out. It’s festering.” 

“And what do you propose I do, since you think to tell me what I feel?” Oneiros coldly questioned, already very much in love with your fleeting touch. Yet you were testing his tolerance in this moment.

“If you are so bold, tell me what will remedy my troubles.” 

“Take all your anger and pain out on me," you offered with a glimmer within your eyes. Surely that would take some of the stress off, even from yourself. It wasn’t like you were cheating on your husband, since he was your husband… you just hadn’t married him yet… he’d also been relentlessly seducing you. This wouldn’t entirely be on you. “It’d be a shame for me to miss out on the true delights of this festival, yes?” The glow within Oneiros’ eyes shifted from warning to lustful, and you caressed his cheek once more, slowly withdrawing the touch he so craved. “Or do you wish to resume your sulking—” You were cut off the moment Oneiros moved, the Endless lunging forward to press you back against the table behind you. Caught off guard, your hand came dangerously close to spilling the jug of wine and only narrowly missed smashing your cup. Hovering over you, Oneiros stared down into your face intently, his fingers dangerously close to pulling the pins from your shoulders. 

“I doubt you are prepared for the entirety of my desires,” he informed you, his eyes drinking in the way your hair settled around you. Between the silk fabric draped around your body to reveal your delicious curves and the scent of oils wafting from your skin, Oneiros was barely holding himself back. The moment he had with you alone in the bathhouse had tortured his mind since you left him hard and wanting. You lay perfectly still beneath him, though the Endless standing between your legs made your body ache. 

“You seem rather confident with your words.” You said breathlessly. 

“You have given me permission to use you.” Oneiros spoke to you, his face slowly drawing closer and closer. “I would tread with caution, little one.” Caution? Says the being that had been relentlessly pursuing you for nearly a week. 

“And I’m waiting,” You were either a very brave human, or entirely foolish to instigate an Endless… but nonetheless, Oneiros could no longer hold himself back and dove in. A hand burrowed into your mess of hair and pulled your head back, exposing your neck and lifting your lips to his every whim and desire. The moment his cold lips roughly pressed against yours, you let out a whimper. You missed the intimacy of simply kissing your husband, and it had only been a week since you ended up there. This Morpheus might not be yours, but he was close enough. 

He, of course, feasted on that precious sound from your lips. He ravaged your lips with a ferocity you’d never experienced with him before but were entirely delighted to receive. Urgent. Passionate. Unrestrained. There was nothing that Oneiros held back from you. He devoured you, indulging in the softness of your lips, tasted the wine that lingered from your drink only a minute prior, and all too easily convinced your lips to part. 

Lips parted and stardust exploded within you, sparking a desperation that only had you kissing back harder. His tongue teased your lower lip, blooming pleasure, before pushing deeper to capture your own. Your true taste was sweet, sweeter than what he’d imagined while you slept at night, sheltered from his desire by nothing but the sheet that covered your body. How many nights had he simply watched rather than take? To many he’d spent in the shadows of your room rather than indulging in others. This night wouldn’t be yet another. 

When you lifted a hand to slip your fingers into that messy hair you were dying to run your fingers through, the Endless snatched your wrist and roughly pressed it against the tabletop. Then a subtle sting flickered across your lower lip in warning as bright blue flashed silver. His lips left yours, straying only a few millimeters, as his sharp gaze left you feeling frozen in place. Your Morpheus was never opposed to you running your fingers through his hair, he actually liked it. He pretty much melted beneath your touches when you did so. Did Oneiros not like that? Had you messed up already?

“Your boldness appears to have no bounds,” Oneiros darkly purred, the coolness of his skin momentarily bewitching you from response. No words were capable of forming on your tongue, rendering you silent. Not that you were capable of speaking, your tongue was still electrified from his deep and intimate kisses. “Oh? Now you find yourself without words, λατρεία μου?” (My adored)

Your inner thighs unconsciously clenched, and the Endless felt it, along with the shiver that wound its way up your spine. His lips twisted into a smirk, and releasing the wrist he still held, his touch found your chin, where he pressed his thumb against the very lips he had only moments before been scalding in possessive claim. Oneiros could hear the way your heart raced within your heaving chest, and that pleased him… almost to the point of dropping to his knees to sate his burning desire to find out if you were indeed as delicious as you had looked in that bath. But right now, arousal and need burned so viciously between you that it was doubtful that Oneiros would be going anywhere but within you. He was not, however, so cruel as to cause you pain in his haste. 

So a hand snaked down your lush body, following along your curve before blatantly ripping the fabric of your dress. You gasped as your body jolted, and the night air touched your previously covered skin. Then Oneiros’ fingers slipped between your trembling legs to brush against your shamefully wet cunt. Fire blazed across your face as a black eyebrow arched. No wonder your addicting smell of arousal was driving him insane, you were nearly dripping. 

“A pity you kept yourself at bay,” he drew out, his voice nearly making you flop in a faint. AKA: We could have been fucking sooner if you hadn’t been ignoring me. You were definitely going to pay. The Endless gave you no more words as his fingers plunged in and out of your body for a few moments, enjoying the way you reacted to a touch as insignificant as this. He enjoyed the way you squirmed, shuddered, and whimpered just from the simple touch. Yet it was far from simple for you. You had what felt like fire streaking through your cunt in an almost unbearable, painful need. But this wasn’t about you. You had to remind yourself about that. So you gripped his bare shoulder and softly whimpered your way through his almost vindictive fingers. 

Perhaps you pushed a few too many buttons over the last week. 

Your chest thrust upwards as your back arched off the table, presenting your plump breasts toward Oneiros. His eyes glowed silver briefly, already feasting off the mere sight of your pleasure. He quickly lowered his mouth to your exposed skin and hungrily pressed his mouth against your milky, soft flesh. His lips were more than ravenous against your untouched flesh, and the Endless devoured every little millimeter with sexual hunger that starved off the deep ache within his guarded heart. 

A ragged litany of strained moans departed your lips as fingers skillfully worked your body towards pleasure, and you couldn’t help but thrust your hips up, burying his fingers further into your throbbing flesh. Silver glowed within deep blue, and Oneiros drew his teeth across the exposed curve of your breast. It was still not enough. He released your chin and tore at the pins holding the cloth against your body, effortlessly lifting you up to sweep the fabric far away from your body so he could see all of your beauty. 

Lost in the waves of bliss that Oneiros was all too easily drawing from your body, you barely noticed your naked state. Eyes fluttering and panting out harsh breaths, you clung to the Dream Lord as the crescendo of what was to be your first of an endless number of orgasms shattered the quiet night. Your cry was nothing short of angelic, and the violent tremors that overtook your shuddering frame were entirely delicious to watch as you came undone around Oneiros’ fingers. He watched with a smug smirk upon his lips as your fingers fell limp against his tunic and your body sagged against the table, a soft moan departing lips he couldn’t wait to see wrapped around his cock. That would have to wait for now. 

As you lay in a daze from the high of pleasure Oneiros had so easily drawn from your body in short order, the Endless wasted no time ridding himself of his tunic and drawing his aching cock against your moisture laden cunt. Hot and wet, you already felt divine and he wasn’t even in you! Oneiros rut his hips against yours, basking in the feeling of your soft body beneath his and shuddering at the friction his cock felt brushing through your cunt. 

You regained enough composure to strengthen your grasp upon his now bare body, quivering and whimpering at having him so close to you once more. But he still wasn’t in you. One last soft plea escaped your lips in a hoarse echo. 

“Please…” Your barely audible whimper was a crescendo to his ears. Gazing deeply into your eyes, Oneiros held that contact through pushing his cock against your soaked cunt and drank in the way your eyes rolled when he sank into your lush body. You were shuddering and trying to breathe while the lusty gaze of Oneiros all but devoured your body. You hadn’t taken into account what it would be like to actually act upon your own desires. Were you cheating on Morpheus by allowing Oneiros to take you like this? 

You gasped the moment Oneiros bottomed out within you, and for a few moments, your entire body clenched as your heart stopped in your chest. No one had been this intimate with you since you started dating Morpheus—no one but Morpheus. But this was Morpheus. You couldn’t cheat on an Endless with themself. So you sucked in a new breath of air and pressed your hand against the side of Oneiros’ face, your fingers slowly sliding into his messy hair. You had planned on dragging his lips back to yours, but the Endless himself beat you to it. He mashed his hungry lips back to yours in seconds, urging your lips to part so he could drink the taste of wine straight from your tongue. It was delectably sweet and rivaled even the finest of drink the gods could offer. 

Moaning as the encompassing presence of Oneiros all but consumed you in body and mind, you dug your nails into his scalp while pulling him against you. Oneiros gripped the edge of the table and moved his other hand from your chin to grasp your hip. The last week had been torture for the endless, and he wasted no time pulling his hips back so he could sink right back into your tantalizing body. You lost the ability to think, let alone respond to his demanding mouth, the moment he began to ravenously consume your body inside out. 

Panting through the throes of intense pleasure, you closed your eyes and let your head drop back as only the most beautiful of sounds slipped from your lips in hushed whimpers and moans. Oh, the mortification you’d feel if someone walked in on Oneiros railing your brains out! Only the endless took your efforts to remain quiet as insult and tightened his grip upon your body. Fingers dug into your sides as his punishing mouth dropped to your extended neck, and he all but sank his teeth into your flesh. You yelped so deliciously, so indulgently, that he did it again just to hear that sound once more. 

Your lips parted with a symphonic cry, and you squirmed in place, one of your legs hiking over his hip as you dug your heel into his hamstring. As your mind grappled with a touch so familiar yet foreign, Oneiros’ hand began exploring your body. Your body was soft, womanly, and ripe for loving. Whoever had claimed your hand was surely missing out because Oneiros’ knew it would be days before he had his fill of you. If that were even possible. Moving his lips further down your neck, Oneiros allowed his mouth to hover over your flushed skin while he watched your breasts heave. A temptation beckoning to him. 

You cried out again, fingers clenching within obsidian locks, when his mouth sealed over one of your nipples. He teased you with his tongue, igniting ripples of pleasure from your breast that only exacerbated the overwhelming ecstasy throbbing between your legs. Even with his attention clearly on your breast, devouring it like it was the best damn thing he’d ever put in his mouth, Oneiros never once let you forget that his cock was merely moments away from unraveling you to the point of corruption. 

Morpheus had never fucked you like this. Well, you were certain that he’d never fucked you, period! Your husband worshipped the ground you walked on and made love to you beneath the stars with only the gentlest of touches that made you bloom with ecstasy and love. It had been all you’d known. All you experienced. Not this ravenous, predatory endless that lacked bounds of control when it came to you and your body. Your cunt clenched fiercely around his cock, and the muscles in your thighs and abdomen spasming. This time you made a strangled keen, your body shaking with pleasure that threatened to consume you as well. 

“Gods,” you rasped hoarsely, your entire body buzzing with wildfire. Oneiros released your breast and raised his eyes to your deeply flushed and pleasure filled face. 

“There are no gods here, λατρεία μου,” (My adored) Oneiros rumbled, his eyes sparking with intense silver energy. “They are not privy to the sound or sight of your pleasure, I am,” His cock was now hitting all the best places within your clenching cunt to spiral your pleasure to the cusp of orgasm. Yet something held it at bay, keeping you squirming and clawing at the endless with tears in your eyes. You had been surely taunting him this past week, but he was feeling rather pleased with how divine you were, body and soul. So he’d let you have this one. “Come for me, now.”      

Oh boy, did your body respond to that demand.        

The choking, strangled sound you made caught in your throat the moment your body obediently obeyed the endless. Your cunt clenched and rippled around his throbbing cock, squeezing him int he most delicious way while you trembled and quaked within his grip. Nails clawing at what they could, you found yourself caught in a mother of all orgasms that swept away your senses in a whiteout. Your body went limp and your eyelashes fluttered.

Oneiros could feel your conscious hover between this realm and his own as your body lay draped within his arms, limp and spent. Ambrosial and addicting. He hadn’t taken his own pleasure, his need to see you come undone beneath him having long since eaten away at the fringes of his being until it was all he could think about. He’d only just had a taste of you, a nibble even, and he already knew that he was going to take his time indulging. You were truly what he wanted, what he needed. So as he carried you towards the rooms he was inhabiting, your body carefully bundled up in the discarded fabric of your peplum, Oneiros thought of every way he planned on indulging in that which you had offered. 

Date Published: 2/15/24

Last Edit: 2/15/24

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[undiscovered-horizon]

Rainy Season - Morpheus x Reader

[Spoilers for Brief Lives I guess?]

[MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

SUMMARY: Fed up with Dream's stubborn and at times childish attitude, you leave Dreaming. But when Morpheus's sorrow makes itself known, Matthew has to fetch you before the kingdom completely floods.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.7k

It’s a tumultuous morning in the Dreaming. Even if none of the dreams and nightmares are privy to the ongoing feud, they know something is wrong. It’s as though the air in the kingdom, the marrow of their bones, turned bitter last night. Their skin is crawling but the sun is shining as it did yesterday. They birds chirp the same song they had throughout centuries. And yet, against their better judgment, something is terribly out of place.

To be honest, you don’t even remember how all of this started but the damage is already done.

A frustrated scream ripples through your chest, "The world doesn't revolve around you!" You're fuming. There's only so much patience one person can hold and recently, Morpheus had proven himself exceptional at trying to reach its limit until he, unfortunately, succeeded today. "For someone who's supposed to know every thought ever entertained, you sure can not look past the tip of your own nose."

His eyes, cold and hurt, stare at you in utter confusion. Dark eyebrows furrow. "I do not know what you're expecting of me,” he states in an angry voice. It appears that he really does not understand the reason for your outrage. "I am not human, I am unable to look at the world as you do."

Of course he says that, you think to yourself. It seems to be his favorite line of defense. Dream of the Endless is a strange, eldritch creature. He doesn’t comprehend the world like a mortal does and, or some reason, he treats this fact of nature as an excuse not to try. At first, you thought it charming - to see the universe through the eyes of a creature you can barely begin to understand. Who wouldn’t? The strange wonder of the man in front of you made you seek his company again and again. Truthfully, there’s something poetic about it: the reason you’ve come back to him so many times might be the very reason you bid him farewell. For good.

"Good news, then: you don't need a cardiovascular system to exercise empathy.” Your sarcastic tone has an effect on Morpheus. He frowns, hurt by your words, only to grow angry that he’s so affected. Dream’s pride makes him want to not be influenced by your bitterness. Alas, he cares more than he’s willing to admit. "Not everything is about you, Morpheus, and until you realize that, I don't think we've got more to talk about. Goodbye."

Even after you shut the door behind you, the word echoes through the castle. The stone walls seem to whisper it back to Morpheus, rubbing the salt in his wound. How strange it is - to be haunted by somebody still alive. To be the king of dreams and feel hopeless. It would be funny if it didn’t make him want to be unmade.

A thunder rolls. A blue lightning splits the sky in two. Despite the lovely weather in the morning, it starts to rain in the Dreaming.

The storm doesn’t stop after a few hours nor does it cease after a few days. Black clouds cover the sky as they did four days ago. The only change is in the water level: the kingdom is flooded. When everyone thought the rain is bound to stop soon, no one minded much the rising tide. However, when the situation only worsened with no evidence that it’s going to improve in the near future, worried voices started to reach Lucienne. If the storm doesn’t cease in the next day or two, some parts of the Dreaming will share the fate of Atlantis.

If Morpheus knew he was being observed, he didn’t show it. Perhaps he doesn’t feel up for another confrontation. In any event, he remains still, standing against the balcony reiling, as his friends begin plotting:

"How is he?" Matthew whispers to Lucienne. "Has he moved from there at all? Ate something? Said anything?"

"That's three 'no's, I'm afraid,” she answers slowly. The librarian lets out a heavy sigh. "He's just dramatically standing there, wallowing in pity."

Dream really is 'just standing there’. Drenched. His hair and clothes are stuck to his pasty skin. It can’t be comfortable but it would appear that matters other than cosiness are on his mind at the moment. For the past few days, ever since you left, he hasn’t moved even a quarter of an inch. Truthfully, he looks about as alive as a marble statue, if monuments could appear excruciatingly miserable.

"Should we do something?" The raven continues. What he really wants to ask is 'What should we do?’ but Lucienne seems to catch the undertone of his words nonetheless.

"You could ask her to come back but no guarantee she'll want to,” she thinks out loud. "They've fought before but this time she looked really defeated."

Morpheus, although doesn’t need to breathe, sighs loudly. As he exhales, another lightning tears the sky apart.

"Alright, I'll try to convince her to talk to him again,” Matthew states. His worried voice makes him sound determined to have the two of you reconcile. "Hopefully, we'll be back before you need a canoe."

Lucienne doesn’t respond. As much as she doesn’t want to admit to her pessimism, she knows better than to have much hope in the matter of Dream’s love life.

Repetitive tapping on the window diverts your attention from the dishes you were washing. Seeing the black bird sitting on the outside windowsill, you quickly wipe your hands against the dishrag and jog to open the window.

"Matthew?" you ask in surprise.

He wastes no time pleading his case in a plaintive tone. "You gotta go back to him. Everything's gone to shit."

You furrow your eyebrows. Leaning against the wall, you cross your arms on your chest. "What do you mean?"

The raven hops closer to you. "It's been pouring nonstop since you left. He's just standing there, soaking wet and he won't talk to anyone."

It might sound sadistic but it’s a nice thought that he’s grieving your departure so severely. For what it’s worth, it means he’s not as blase as he likes to appear. Perhaps, Morpheus cares about you more than you’re even aware of.

"How bad is it?" you ask warily.

"How bad?!" Matthew screeches. "The House of Mysteries is so flooded, Abel is fishing."

It sounds like 'bad' is nothing more than an elegant euphemism. In his heartache, Morpheus is willing to let Dreaming decay and fall into partial ruin. If your accusation had been correct and Dream of the Endless truly is unable to care about anyone but himself, such a disaster would never have happened. A selfish ruler wouldn’t let his realm turn to rubble because of a broken heart. And if you’re more important than what he calls home, then…

"I'm assuming that's not a usual feature,” you give the raven a half-hearted response. The thoughts inside your head are in a painful turmoil, trying to lift the truth out of the indications.

"Yeah," he answers sarcastically.

Matthew glares at you in anticipation. Perplexed, you rub your arm without thinking much about it. Right, it's the mature and responsible thing to do but at the same time, why do you have to be the one to cave in every time you two fall out? If Morpheus cares for you as much as his dramatic show of pain and grief would suggest, shouldn’t it be him travelling across world and realms to reach you?

The raven cocks his head. Something about the look in his eyes changes as though his frustration has faded away or grown into desperation if not powerlessness. He’s tired and out of options.

"Alright, let's go," you say with a sigh. "But no promises. I still have pride and self-respect and he's still a stubborn..." you take a deep breath, "nevermind. Let's just go."

Miserable.

That's the only word that comes to your mind as you stare at him from afar. One would think that an entity of his sort can not be or look miserable but maybe this world is even stranger than you've thought. His clothes are drenched to the point of being see-through. Dark, once-tussled hair is now stuck to his face and neck. Dream's body looks even more stringy as his head is hanging low between his shoulders.

The rain is almost deafening. Your cautious, hesitant footsteps shouldn't be audible and yet Morpheus turns around to look at you when you come closer.

"I didn't think you'd come back," he says in a low, groggy voice. Dream's eyes, once blue and cold, are now red and unsettlingly vacant. Has he been crying? "What do you want?"

You take a deep breath. It was vain to expect him to welcome you with open arms. An eldritch being with a bruised ego and a broken heart could never make for a hospitable host. Even to those whom he misses the most.

"I still stand by what I said, it's just..." you hang your voice for a moment to find the proper words. Seeing him so broken by your fight makes some part of you want to renounce everything that lead to your argument. Anything just for him to be alright again. But the more reasonable side of you knows that such an action would only hurt both of you in the long run. "I admit, I could have said it in a more civilized way. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that harshness."

His gaze falls and Morpheus looks away for a moment.

Whether he's doing it consciously or not, the rainstorm ceases. Black clouds slowly drift away to uncover a clear, blue sky. Somewhere in the West, if there are cardinal directions in Dreaming, the sun is beginning to set. Despite the significant improvement, the air remains cold. A harsh wind nips at your drenched form. In a vain attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort of the weather, you put your arms around your torso. Still, your body trembles.

"Perhaps I should have put more effort into understanding your concern. I'm..." he turns silent for a second. His lips are apart but no sound is coming out of his mouth. Dream's hurt gaze meets yours. "Sorry," he whispers finally. Despite his voice being hardly audible, the weight of his confession is almost deafening.

"There's one more thing, Morpheus."

Those sad blue eyes stare at you in anticipation. The misery on his face makes you think that he's expecting to have his heart broken again, instead of mended.

A couple of grey clouds reappear above your heads. Oh no.

"I'm tired of always being the one to reach out," you confess. His gaze is too intense and you quickly look away from him. There's much on his mind. "No matter who's right or wrong, it's me who bridges the gap between us. Even if that angers me, I still do it. Every time. And I don't know what that says about me."

Your body trembles again but this time it doesn't go unnoticed by Morpheus. He, quite literally, pulls a coat out of thin air. Dream's movements are almost fearful as he cautiously places the garment around your shoulders.

"Perhaps in certain aspects, you are better than me," he answers quietly while fixing the coat to fit you better.

You know you're pushing your luck when you look at him again and ask a not-so-innocent question:

"You mean a 'better person'?"

"I'm not-" He bites his tongue just in time. Morpheus is not a person. Both of you are perfectly aware of it. But it was the mention of this very fact that had brought such disastrous rain to Dreaming. "Yes. A better person."

There's not much conviction in his words but there is, however, a silent promise to find it.

______

Now that I’m in mourning, I thought it fitting to finish reading "Brief Lives" and the bittersweetness of it felt all the more pronounced. Reading it prompted me to rewatch the show and long story short I’m kind of back in my Sandman feels.

[spideybatsy]

Find me | Dream*

*of the Endless

Summary: Morpheus' partner cannot stand to stay in the decaying dreaming, it just hurts too much.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

WC: 1.3K

Warnings: a bit of angst, if I do say.

Notes: Apparently, white poppies represent dreaming. So, I wanted to include them hehe. Also, I did not proof read this. Please let me know if I've made a oopsie Masterlist

Thousands of years ago, you made a vow to always stay by his side. You created an unbreakable bond and committed the rest of your existence to him. For so long, you’d lived with him happily. Safe and secure in the realm of the Dreaming. 

And now, he was gone.

It had all happened so quickly. He’d gone to Berlin to finally put an end to The Corinthian’s horror, it should’ve only taken a few hours. Hours turned into days, days into weeks and then eventually it had been months. Jessamy, his trust Raven, had not returned home either. 

You’d tried to hold out for him, honestly. But every moment you spent in his decaying realm felt like a lifetime. The thousands of memories you’d made began to rot away with the rest of his kingdom. Even Lucienne’s library had disappeared. 

By the time 80 years had passed, there was still no word. You could bare it no longer; the pain was too great. 

So, you left. 

You made a new life for yourself in a tiny cottage in Cornwall. It wasn’t much, nothing compared to the castle, but it was enough. Your heart ached for him every day but the pain was bearable now. 

As usual, you pass the garden of white poppies to you collect the daily newspaper. The breath catches in your throat as you read the front headline.

Sleep Sickness Survivors Awaken.

This can only mean one thing. Morpheus, your soulmate, is free. 

An uncontrollable smile spreads across your face, cracking the dry skin of your lips. After 105 years, he is back.

Then, there’s a sinking in your chest.

He is back. But he is not here. Nor are you in the Dreaming. 

As fast as your hope comes, anxiety blooms. Is he upset with you for abandoning your post? For not finding him? Does he even love you anymore? 

You’re unsure on what to do next. Travelling back to the Dreaming may be a bad idea, especially if he is not happy to see you. But waiting here, in your cottage, may further his anger. 

The newspaper rips in half between your hands. You hadn’t even noticed how taut you were holding it. Perhaps you should take some time to think your options over. It’s been a century, surly a few more hours won’t hurt.

---

It was decided. You’d wait a week to see if he came looking for you. After that, you would pursue him. The fear of his anger was great but nothing compared to the desire you had to see him again. You’d run your hands through his hair first, attempting to flatten the black bird’s nest, and stare into his eyes. Then, you’d gladly accept your punishment. 

A voice in your head told you he’d come to you. That he loves and misses you as much as you do him. 

The voice was wrong. 

You’d waited by your window for days, staring into the garden and hoping for him. Sometimes a leaf would rustle, and you thought you saw sand blow in the wind, but he never appeared. You became increasingly anxious as you sat. 

On the seventh day, you finally stood. Enough was enough, you would postpone no more. He may not love you anymore but you still loved him. 38 thousand days was enough, you needed to see him now. 

With your head held high, you travelled into the Dreaming. The gate stood high above you and small smile graced your lips. You’ve come home. 

Muscle memory led you to the doors before his throne room. Your hand hesitated, would he really be that angry? What if he cast you away?

You shook the thoughts away. The only thing that mattered right now was seeing him. Even filled with anger, his face was more beautiful than any other. 

With a bated breath, you push the door open. 

The chamber is empty, the silence is deafening. Your already fragile heart shatters, he is not here. He is not waiting for you. He is not even looking. 

He loves you no more.

With glistening eyes, you head for the library. Lucienne has been there for you, she even helped you move into your cottage all those years ago. Your push the doors open and rush through the shelves of books, looking for her. 

“Are you okay?” Lucienne emerges from behind a stack of books, eyebrows furrowed. 

You run into her arms and latch on tightly. She doesn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around you. One of her hands rubs soothing circles on your back. The two of you stay like that for a few minutes and eventually, the waterworks stop. 

Your eyes water as you step back, rubbing at your stuffed nose. Luci stays silent and watches as you regain your bearings. Her eyes are not judgmental, they are actually the opposite. You feel comfortable around her.

“He’s back, isn’t he?” Your voice is hearse as you ask.

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“A week now.”

Your back bumps against a shelve as you take a step back. 

“A whole week and he didn’t even look for me.” Your voice cracks, “I should’ve known.”

Lucienne furrows her eyebrows again. 

“I always loved him more than he loved me,” you admitted. The backs of your eyes sting and you look down at your hands, unable to look at her. “but I thought he would’ve cared enough to,” you need to take a moment to stop from crying, “to at least miss me.”

You’re so caught up in your sorrow that you don’t notice as the library door flies open. 

“That’s not t-“ Lucienne is interrupted as a man storms down the aisle. 

“Where are they.”

Your head shoots up, you would recognise that voice anywhere. It’s him, he’s here. 

“Lucienne, where are they.” 

Even from behind, he is the most striking man you’ve ever seen. His hair is sticking up, black as always. He wears his robes; they make his shoulders looks strong.  You can’t tear your eyes away from him, or the Raven on his shoulder. It’s not Jessamy. 

“Lord, what do you mean?” Lucienne asks.

Dream takes a deep breath but he seems rattled. “I went to the address you gave me, the cottage. They were not there.” 

Luci goes to speak but he talks over her. 

“I have not seen my partner for 105 years.”  His voice is deep, threatening. “You will tell me where they are right now or you will face the consequences.”

“Uh, sir-“ The bird speaks, staring right at you. 

“Not now, Matthew.” Dream continues to look at Luci. “I have spent every day since my imprisonment thinking of them. Missing them. I will not wait a moment more.”  

“But sir,” the raven speaks again. “They’re here.”

He let’s out an irritated sigh, “Matthew, now is not the time.” He turns his head to address the bird but stops when he sees you, standing there.

Fresh tears run down your cheeks; your eyes wide as you look up at him. He looks back, frozen in his spot.

Then, a massive smile curls his mouth. Eyes glistening, he hastily comes forward. You wrap your arms around him and hold on so tightly, it would crush a mortal man. He cradles your head, holding it to his chest. 

You don’t know if you stood like that for a minute or 20 but eventually you pulled back. Your eyes meet each other, he’s crying. You’re crying. With one hand, you reach up and try to smooth down his hair. It doesn’t work. A smile sits on both your faces as you hold his chiselled jaw in your palm. 

His voice is deep, the echoes of it vibrating through your chest. “My love, I have missed you.” 

[gabessquishytum]

The Endless family are nothing, if not the most horrible of people. They don't care who/what they hurt to lord it over people.

Morpheus tries to have as little to do with his adoptive family (he along with a number of his other siblings were foundlings) as possible, but the family still own his apartment building and probably have found a sneaky underhanded way to have a stake in his fledgling art career. This is part of the reason he appeared when summoned to the most recent family dinner/shitty people party.

For some yet undisclosed reason, Morpheus parents were particularly smug about whatever was going to happen at the party - he just hopes it's not overt and open criming, he doesn't really want to be pressed into hiding bodies and depending on how long it takes to get to whatever their "surprise" is, Morpheus will have to stay at the party for longer than he would ever want.

The surprise is wheeled out, in a giant tank -- a captured male merperson. To Morpheus's eyes, he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen - long brown hair flowing in the water, strong chest and arms flowing seamlessly down to a golden tail, shot through with warm browns, yellows and greens. Just the colors alone spoke to Morpheus's artist soul. He knew he could happily spend the rest of his life doing nothing but attempting to recreate this beauty.

And then he locked eyes with the angry brown eyes of what was obviously the rest of his existence,,,,,,,and Morpheus's soul mark burned.

Ahhhh this is so chilling!! I like the idea of Hob being beautiful but terrifying.

Of course Dream has to do something. So he asks to stay the night at his "parents" awful mansion. After midnight he sneaks down the damp basement where the huge tank has been stored. The merman is skulking around the bottom of the tank, and those brown-gold eyes glare out through the darkness. Dream can't stop himself from stepping forward and pressing the palm of his hand against the glass.

"Well." The merman says, sending bubbles shooting out to the surface of the tank. "How are you going to get me out of here?"

It turns into a proper mini heist. Dream recruits a team to get his soulmate out: his estranged adoptive brother Ollie, his youngest sister (who still lives at home, and can let them all into the mansion), a few sketchy friends he made at university (Matthew and Cori) and, bizarrely, the director of the gallery that shows his art. Gilbert may be older in years, but he is very good with a weapon.

They take an old bathtub that Matthew dug out of a skip to the mansion in Cori's truck. And then they lug the damn thing down to the basement. Hob looks distinctly unimpressed. But when Dream begs him to get in the bath, his fierce attitude softens. Muttering about dumb humans, he flops out from the top of the tank, into the bath - bringing plenty of water along with him.

Then they have to get him back up the stairs. Dream is not super helpful tbh, he's too fixated on Hob’s beautiful tail. And his eyes. And just everything, really. Thank goodness Ollie hits the gym regularly - they make it out of the mansion before dawn. Delirium gives Hob a big kiss on the cheek, and he gets all soft and mushy, giving her a soggy hug in return before they wave goodbye and get the hell out of there. They head for Gilbert's gallery (since its on the ground floor), where Hob's eyes get all big and shiny as he looks at Dream’s art.

What the hell do they do now? No doubt Dream’s parents will notice the missing merman. And Hob can't live in a bathtub forever. Maybe it's time for Dream to get the nice cottage by the sea that he's always fancied. The question is - will Hob want to hang around, when he's free to swim away?

The answer is a grumpy "yes". As long as Dream agrees to paint him. Which obviously isn't going to be an issue at all 😄