#Dream of the endless X reader

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Heart’s Desire: Heart

Heart's Desire: You are Amata, the dream that embodies adoration and one of Morpheus’s most treasured creations. As one of the few entities that Desire actually seems to like, it is your job to complete official business between the Dreaming and the Threshold. Too bad a scheming Endless has decided to play a little game and give you, their precious rare friend, a nudge in the right direction.

Warnings: Desire Drugging Amata.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Named Dream!Reader, Amata: Latin for beloved, Sex pollen because Desire is a *bitch*.

Word Count: ~4.4k

Masterlist | Desire

It is one of your greatest pleasures to watch dreamers revel in your work. As a dream that embodies adoration, you are often surrounded by happiness and love. Your gentle and kind nature often leads those within the Dreaming to come to you for comfort when things go awry, or they need sound advice from someone incapable of holding a grudge.

You are overjoyed upon the return of Lord Morpheus, having been one of the few of his creations to remain within the crumbling realm, ever faithful. Lord Morpheus has always been a distant figure, even to you, despite you being one of his favorite and most treasured creations. So, you linger in the background as he and his new raven, Matthew, collect his missing tools. Lucienne reassures you that he is just unsettled by his time away from the Dreaming, and you nod in understanding, though deep down you can't help but feel a pang of hurt at his distance.

As the days pass, you find yourself wandering through the corridors of the palace in various states of repair, your footsteps silent against the shifting marble. Upon turning down a hall of antiquities from the time of the Gods, you find Matthew perched in front of a large, ornate mirror that seems to shimmer with an otherworldly light. It is, after all, Narcissus' Mirror.

His glossy feathers reflect tiny hints of ethereal colors as he cocks his head in curiosity. You approach the raven cautiously, your heart fluttering with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. It has been so long since you had the company of others, Lucienne, Mervyn, and the brothers notwithstanding.

"Hello, Matthew," you greet softly, coming to a stop near him and folding your hands against your chiton. The raven jumps at your words, wings flapping as he settles himself, and then turns to you.

“Oh! Hi! You’re Amata… right?” Matthew asks, his head cocking side to side. He can see why Morpheus is so enamored with you. Your skin is much like Gault’s, but shifting and swirling in a kaleidoscope of shimmering colors. Space. You had space in your skin! The boss has told him all about you, rather obsessively, but Matthew knows better than to comment.

You are Amata, the dream that embodies adoration, and certainly one of Morpheus’ favorites. Spun and sewn from millions of nebulas and constellations, your skin is a constant shifting of colors from the deepest of purples and blues, all the way to a sunny and heart-warming yellow and pink. He even saw an intense red bloom briefly on your shoulder the other day, twinkling and shimmering for about half an hour before morphing into a different nebulae. At this point, Matthew is convinced you are space, and the nebulas on your skin were painted by Morpheus. They probably were at this point.

“Oh, yes, that is correct,” you nod in acknowledgment, a warm smile gracing your ever-changing features as you look at the raven perched before you.

“Morpheus talks a lot about you,” Matthew continues, his glossy black feathers ruffling with excitement as he speaks. "He mentioned how you were there for him during some difficult times, offering comfort and guidance when he needed it most.”

You tilt your head, intrigued. Or perhaps lovesick would be more accurate. "Has he now?"

“Oh yeah, the boss really likes to talk about you. He mentioned how much he values your presence here in the Dreaming, how your gentle nature and unwavering kindness had been a source of solace for him, especially during his recent troubles," Matthew chirps animatedly, hopping a bit closer to you. “Exact words by the way, I don’t think my vocabulary is up to his.”

You can't help but feel a rush of warmth at Matthew's words, a mixture of joy and sadness swirling within you. Morpheus’ rare moments of vulnerability and openness with you had created a deep bond between you, one that you cherished more than words could express. But he would never act upon such feelings, and that drags upon your heart like a weight that cannot be lifted. You clear your thoughts of your own personal woes and address Matthew once more.

“I see that you are interested in the mirror?”

“Oh yeah, it’s really cool, I can see my human self in it! Or at least what I used to look like, I’m a bird now. Obviously.”

"Yes, Narcissus' Mirror tends to show inner desires," you reply, your small smile almost pained. "They say it has the power to show one's true self, or perhaps a reflection of what once was and at times, what could be."

“That’s why I’m seeing my old self?” Matthew exclaims, his eyes wide with wonder. "So, what would you see if you looked into the mirror, Amata? Just yourself?”

Oh no, the mirror would show you something you had spent far too many hours pining over. Slowly, you step closer to the glistening surface, your reflection wavering and shifting in the ethereal light.

As you gaze into the mirror, the colors of your nebulae spin and dance in an intricate display. Images flicker across the mirror's surface—a glimpse of a different time, a different place. And then, for a brief moment, you see it.

A figure emerges from the swirling colors, one that bears a striking resemblance to yourself but seems more... complete. Radiant and whole in a way you have never felt before. It is as if all your scattered pieces have come together to form a dazzling mosaic of beauty and adoration.

What breaks your little heart, if you even had one, every time, is that beside you stands Morpheus, his eyes soft and filled with a tenderness you have only ever dreamed of. In that reflection, he reaches out a hand towards you, a ghostly touch that sends shivers down your spine. You can almost feel the coolness of his fingers against yours, a sensation so achingly real it almost brings tears to your eyes.

But as quickly as the image appears, it vanishes, leaving you standing before the mirror with a heart heavy with longing. You turn to Matthew, forcing a smile to mask the ache in your chest.

"It shows what we desire most," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "Sometimes, it can be both a gift and a curse to see such things."

“Woah!” Matthew gasps. “That’s like a real-life version of the Mirror of Erised!”

“The mirror of what?” you question the raven, your head tilting in confusion. Matthew hops excitedly, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"You know, in Harry Potter? The Mirror of Erised shows you your heart's deepest desire, and it's all twisted and messed up because sometimes what we want isn't good for us. It's like this mirror is doing the same thing. That's so cool!"

You still have no idea what he speaks of, but he appears to be so enthused about the topic that you decide to play along. Who could possibly hinder such happiness?

"Perhaps you're right, Matthew," you muse, running a finger along the edge of the mirror. "Though I don't know if my desire is twisted or messed up. It's just... complicated."

Matthew cocks his head, studying you with a quiet intensity. This is his first time seeing you so un-Amata-like. "Complicated how?"

"It's nothing, Matthew," you say, trying to brush off the intensity of your emotions. "Just a silly dream, that's all. It's been that way for thousands of years. I think it is apart of my creation.”

The raven doesn't look convinced, but he lets the subject drop. You bid him a pleasant dream and stride away, intending to return to your duties. Despite your efforts to leave your feelings behind, they cling to you like a stubborn shadow. You roam the palace halls, your thoughts circling back to the image in the mirror and the tender look in Morpheus' eyes. It is a cruel reminder of what could never be, and yet, you can't tear your mind away from it.

As the evening comes and the stars twinkle brightly in the Dreaming's sky, you find yourself in the garden of eternal blooms. The flowers glow softly, their colors shifting and changing much like your own skin. A gift long given by your lord. You sit on a bench, gazing up at the stars, lost in thought.

"Amata," a familiar voice calls, pulling you from your reverie. You turn to see Lucienne approaching, her expression gentle and understanding.

"Lucienne," you greet, your smile genuine despite the heaviness in your heart. "What brings you here?"

"I came to check on you," she says, sitting beside you. "You've seemed... distant lately. Despite Lord Morpheus' return. Is it, perhaps—"

"I have had centuries to adjust to the matter of my heart, Lucienne," you softly speak, cutting her off. "And I don’t even have one." The librarian clasps her hands behind her back and approaches the end of the bench you are perched on.

"That does not mean you are not capable of feeling, Amata,” Lucienne finishes gently, her eyes soft and understanding. “Your very essence is woven from the threads of adoration and love. Heart or no heart, you embody those emotions more profoundly than most.”

You look down, the shifting colors of your skin reflecting the turmoil within. “I know. But it is hard, Lucienne. It is hard to love so deeply and know it will never be reciprocated because of duty.”

You sit there in silence, lost in thought as the stars continue to twinkle above. Lucienne waits patiently, allowing you the space to process your feelings. After a moment, she speaks softly, her voice a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves of the eternal blooms.

"Lord Morpheus has returned to us changed. His feelings and actions are no longer set in stone," Lucienne continues. "He is grappling with his own burdens, just as you are with yours. Give him time. Give yourself time."

"What if my feelings are just a product of my nature as Amata? A dream woven from the threads of adoration and love?"

Lucienne shakes her head gently. "No," she says firmly. "Your feelings are real, Amata. They are a part of who you are, just as much as your shifting colors and your gift of adoration." She reaches out and places a comforting hand on your arm. "Love is not something that can be easily defined or contained within rules and expectations," she continues softly. "It is a force that transcends all boundaries, a powerful emotion that can shape us in ways we never thought possible."

You look down at your hands, clenched tightly in your lap. You have always been strict with yourself, never allowing yourself to feel too deeply for the sake of duty. Your loyalty is woven in the marrow of your being. But Lucienne's words resonate with you, stirring something deep within your heart. Morpheus has changed.

With those words, she walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The garden around you seems to hum with quiet understanding, the blooms glowing softly in the moonlight. You take a deep breath, drawing strength from the beauty and tranquility of the Dreaming.

Yes, Morpheus has changed, but it is not within your right as his creation to assume his thoughts have wavered. He is still out of reach.

Morpheus summons you to the throne room for official business of the Dreaming. No doubt he is sending you on an errand. Since his return, he has only called upon your presence when in need of your ability and avoided you altogether the rest of the time.

"Amata," he begins, his voice resonating through the vast chamber. You stand before him, dressed regally with the serenity and power of a queen. "I have a task for you. It is one that requires both your unique abilities and your... particular rapport with my sibling, Desire."

You nod, knowing you are the most friendly with Desire. It is an unusual relationship, to say the least; however, adoration often intersects with desire, so it makes sense that you would be most familiar with Morpheus' estranged sibling. "Of course, my lord. What do you need of me?"

Morpheus rises from his throne, a stack of official papers materializing in his hand. "These documents must be delivered to the Threshold. They pertain to matters of great importance to the realms, particularly regarding Desire's recent indiscretions. Your presence will ensure their safe passage."

He glides down the curving stairs, and your eyes soak in every lithe and precise move. It is impossible for you not to adore the way he carries himself. Curse your embodiment. You accept the papers, their weight seeming heavier than mere parchment. Your gaze raises back to the starlit ones of your lord, and you give him a head bow. "I understand, my lord. I will see it done."

He steps closer, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "Desire holds you in high regard, Amata. This task is not only one of duty, but of trust. Do not let your heart waver; their recent actions have been untoward and inciteful."

You meet his gaze, your eyes flickering as understanding blooms in your mind. Is Morpheus implying that his imprisonment had been influenced by Desire? It certainly sounds like an action his younger sibling would endeavor in, but one so extreme? No matter what Desire had been involved in, you would keep your head on your shoulders.

"I will not, my lord." You reassure him, "I will fulfill this task with the utmost care."

Morpheus nods, a faint smile touching his lips. "Very well. Proceed with caution."

With a wave of his hand, the world around you shifts, the throne room dissolving into a blur of colors and sensations. When the world stabilizes, you find yourself standing at the entrance to the Threshold, the realm of Desire.

The Threshold is a place of intoxicating beauty and temptation, its landscapes ever-changing to suit the whims of its ruler. The air is thick with the scent of exotic flowers and the hum of desire, a palpable force that seems to tug at your very soul. It is almost a second home to your nature.

You take a deep breath, clearing the suave nature of the realm to lower your guard, from your mind and approach the entrance. The door to the Threshold opens before you, revealing Desire lounging on a lavish chaise, their golden eyes gleaming with amusement. You blink at the cat suit, tail and ears flicking. Their latest form certainly suits them. Catlike indeed.

"Ah, my dear Amata," Desire purrs, rising gracefully to greet you. "What brings you to my domain?" As you step forward into the space and the door closes behind you, Desire slinks up to you and curls their fingers around your jaw to caress your beauty.

You bow slightly, holding out the papers to them, well used to their seductive nature and, if anything, immune to their charm. Desire could not compete with adoration. It is the reason why you are always tasked with business at the Threshold. "I come bearing important documents from Lord Morpheus. He entrusted me with their delivery."

There is a flicker of curiosity in their eyes, and you can sense them reading your thoughts through your actions. They take the documents from your hand, their fingers lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary.

"Interesting," they murmur, flipping through the pages with an air of intrigue. "Matters of great importance indeed." Desire's gaze lifts to meet yours, their eyes filled with a mischievous glint. The papers evaporate in their hands. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you here, Amata. You've been ever so busy tending to the Dreaming."

You shrug slightly, trying to maintain a neutral expression. "With Lord Morpheus returned, I have many tasks to resume," you reply simply. Desire chuckles softly, their voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Ah yes, Morpheus," they purr, running a finger along the edge of your jawline where a galaxy swirls along the curve. Desire would never admit it, but Dream had outdone himself on your creation. "He has always been one for duty and responsibility, has he not?" Their gaze drifts down to your lips, and you can feel the heat of their desire radiating off them in waves.

"He takes the matters of the Dreaming with the greatest of importance," you agree, feeling a surge of pride for the realm you both serve so diligently.

Desire's smile widens, a glint of mischief in their eyes. "Indeed, he does. And yet, I cannot help but wonder about the balance between duty and desire. Tell me, Amata, have you never wished for more?"

You roll your eyes, refusing to be swayed by Desire's insinuations. This is not the first time you and Desire have had this conversation. "My wishes are irrelevant, Desire. My duty to Lord Morpheus and the Dreaming comes first."

Desire seems to appreciate your resolve, a hint of admiration flickering in their eyes before they finally release you from their grasp. "Very well," they say finally, their lips transforming into a wicked smile. "I shall see that these documents reach their destination safely. But I would hate that you came all this way just for business with little old me."

Desire's eyes twinkle with mischief as they reach behind a cushion, revealing a small, ornate bottle. The glass catches the light, casting rainbows across the opulent room. "Before you take your leave," Desire says, holding the bottle out to you, "I have a little something for you. A token of my... affection."

You eye the bottle warily, your hand hesitating as you reach out to take it. The scent that wafts from the open bottle is intoxicating, an intoxicating mix of jasmine and orange with an undercurrent of something wild and untamed. It stirs something deep within you, a longing that you've kept buried for centuries.

"It's a special blend," Desire purrs, watching your reaction with interest. "A perfume unlike any other. Just a dab behind your ears, and it will make the stars themselves seem bland in comparison. I think it will complement your gorgeous complexion, my little dream."

You admire the delicate bottle, gazing at the shimmering fluid suspended in glass. It is almost as if Desire has harnessed the glimmering beauty of stars and swirled it into the perfume to add a touch of your creator. They would never be so thoughtful, however. Your gaze lifts back to Desire, and you give them a thankful but hesitant smile.

"I am honored to receive such a gift from you, Desire," you tell the Endless as your brow furrows. They can see the 'but' lingering in your tone and prompt you.

"But…?" Desire purrs, an eyebrow raised while one of their hands finds its way to your chin, making sure that you are looking in their eyes.

"I have never worn perfume before," you admit shyly. "Am I even worthy of wearing such a cherished creation of Desire?"

The glimmer in Desire's golden eyes almost matches the perfume as their lips curl and they chuckle.

"Oh, my dearest Amata," Desire strokes your galactic skin once more. "Do not let that hold you back. Allow me the honor of applying your first application of perfume," Desire whispers, their voice like velvet.

You swallow, feeling a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. "I... I don't know what to expect," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "Am— am I the one meant to smell it? Or, or is it meant for others?"

Desire's smile widens, a blend of amusement and genuine affection. "That is the beauty of it, my dear. It can be both. Trust me." With that, they uncap the bottle in your hands, the glass stopper releasing a fragrance that is both intoxicating and comforting. They wave the glass wand beneath your nose, ensuring that the scent reaches your senses, before drawing it up your neck. Then with careful precision, Desire tilts your head side to side to dab the perfume behind your ears.

As the scent envelops you, it feels as though the stars themselves have been captured within the bottle, their essence now a part of your very being. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to be lost in the experience. The intoxicating fragrance seems to seep into your pores, filling you with a sense of warmth and longing. It is a feeling you have never experienced before, and it leaves you feeling both vulnerable and alive.

Desire steps back, admiring their handiwork. You open your eyes and gaze at the bottle in your hand. The perfume seems to glow with an inner light, its beauty almost mesmerizing.

"There," Desire says, their voice soft and satisfied. "Now, you will carry the essence of our encounter with you wherever you go. It will serve as a reminder of the connection we share, and the feelings that exist between us." They return the stopper to the perfume bottle and close your fingers around it.

"Go now, Amata," they say, their voice a purred command. "We wouldn't want to keep Dream waiting, now would we?" They return to their lounge upon the red chaise, tail flicking lazily about while you stare down at the little bottle in your hand.

As you step through the entrance back to the Dreaming, the scent of Desire's perfume fills your senses. The fragrance is subtle yet powerful, carrying with it a yearning that resonates deep within your being. You can't help but wonder if this is a normal reaction to the perfume. Surely it is; Desire would never seek to harm you. What would have changed in thousands o fyears you had known them?

You continue your normal route to the palace, slowly feeling your inner being get warmer and warmer. Lifting a hand, you run your fingertips along your jaw and nearly shiver as electrical pleasure echoes across your flesh. Ignore your being, Amata, you always feel a little odd upon your return.

But the sensations only grow worse. You find yourself acutely aware of your surroundings, each sound and sensation amplified by the perfume's effect on your senses. The soft rustle of fabric as you walk, the echo of your footsteps on the marble floor, the dim glow of the dreamlights casting shadows that dance and flicker around you—all of it combines to create a heightened state of awareness. Then an uncomfortable cramp blooms in your abdomen, and the fabric of your dress feels as if it were knives against your flesh.

You attempt to return to your duties in the library, but your discomfort and nausea only intensify, making it impossible for you to focus on the tasks at hand. No matter how you shift, your dress still feels painful against your skin, and the cramping within your abdomen worsens.

As the discomfort in your abdomen intensifies, you double over, clutching your stomach as a wave of nausea washes over you. The scent of the perfume that once filled you with longing now becomes suffocating, making your head spin. The library around you spins and swirls, the endless tomes blurring together in a kaleidoscope of color and text.

"Amata?" Lucienne's voice cuts through the haze, her concerned expression etched into your blurry vision as she rushes to your side. "My goodness, you look ever so poorly!"

Her brow furrows as she studies your face, her hand gently resting on your forehead. Your normally cool skin feels like it is burning from the inside out. You make a noise at her touch and twitch. The scent of the perfume that once filled you with longing now clings to you like an angry shroud, making your head spin.

"Amata, my dear," she murmurs, her voice gentle and soothing. "What is it that ails you?" Her touch sends a wave of relief coursing through your body, easing the cramp in your abdomen. Yet it is still not enough. You need more.

You shake your head weakly; you have no idea. Lucienne's expression softens as she guides you to a nearby chair, seating you gently before kneeling at your feet. "Take deep breaths," she instructs softly. "Perhaps it would be best if you return to your quarters to rest."

"I have work to do," you protest in a barely comprehensible voice.

"Nonsense, you must rest," the librarian scolds you. "Return to your quarters and do not come back until you are better rested."

You comply with great reluctance, for not once in your existence have you ever needed to take a break from your duties. So you head to your quarters, periodically taking pauses to grimace through bludgeoning pain in your abdomen. Stumbling into your room, you glance at your neat bed and decide that you absolutely were not going to climb in bed feeling like a sweaty mess. So your eyes shift to the door to your bath.

You push through the pain, determined to take a bath and regain some semblance of normalcy. As you step into the bathing chamber, you are greeted by the soothing scent of your favorite mixture of herbs and flowers. The warm water beckons you, and you undress quickly, eager to lose the fabric that feels so painful and submerge yourself in its comforting embrace.

Lowering yourself into the softly bubbling water, you whimper as the bubbles pop against your skin. This is supposed to make you feel better! But the pain persists, gnawing at you despite the warmth of the water. You close your eyes, trying to focus on the soothing aroma and the gentle sound of the water, but the discomfort is relentless. Each breath feels like a struggle, and you wonder if this will ever end.

Your eyes sting with unshed tears as you climb out of the bath, wrapping yourself in a thick, plush robe. The fabric feels soft against your sensitive skin, but it does little to alleviate the pain that still grips your abdomen.

You make your way to your bed, the soft sheets beckoning you like a sanctuary. With a weary sigh, you slip beneath the covers, curling up into a tight ball as you try to find a comfortable position. But no matter how you shift, the pain persists, throbbing relentlessly with each beat of your heart. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, hoping that rest will bring you some relief.

Date Published: 5/30/24

Last Edit: 5/30/24

Masterlist | Desire

[hunny-beann]

I am literally having the worst day ever, do you think you could write some insanely fluffy Dream for me? I'm talking tooth rotting levels of fluff here.

Rest Now, Wife, Mine

Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

Note: Hi anon! Thanks a ton for the adorable request, I had a lot of fun with it and really hope it helps make your day feel a bit better <3

Synopsis: Morpheus' wife finds their bed far too lonely without him in it, and seeks out his presence to remedy this so she may finally succumb to slumber for the evening.

Thankfully, he is all too happy to oblige.

Warnings: None! Just pure and unbridled fluff :)

Word Count: 1,298

Her steps are silent and her pace slow as she approaches the familiar throne room, sensing even from outside of its walls that it is as close to empty as it is going to get for the evening.

That said, as close to empty as possible for the throne room of an Endless such as Dream was not nearly as empty as one might think, with it being a rarity that he not be found there.

She fights back a shiver as she steps across the threshold, her bare feet suddenly far colder than before, and her majority uncovered shoulders beginning to undergo horripilation at the seemingly inexplicable shift in temperature.

That said, being easy to explain was not a rule that the Dreaming followed, so this was nothing new, and certainly nothing unexpected.

Though, the sudden voice that split the once heavy silence in twain on the other hand, was.

"And what could possibly have you awake at such an hour, dear wife?"

The voice asked quietly, laced with both amusement and even a twinge of concern that had the wife in question smiling softly in spite of her best efforts to not appear excited at the mere sound of her love's voice.

Oh, but she had never been that strong, had she?

He had her wrapped around his finger just as he did the entire realm that he ruled, though he notably reserved the one with the ring for her and her alone.

She padded up toward his throne quietly, not willing to answer his question until she was close enough that her voice might not reverberate so loudly off of the palace walls.

Some words, she had decided long ago, were for her husband and her husband alone.

Upon her eager approach, the Lord of Dreams could not help but raise one of the corners of his mouth at the mere sight of her, holding his hand out at her nearness to guide her to stand before his crossed legs as he reached gently to take her other in his own as well, making a mental note of how chilled her extremities felt due to the cool night air of his throne room.

He watched as she slackened slightly at his familiar touch, her body always so happy to find him near in a way never ceased to have his heart all but melting at her feet.

What a disastrous little thing she was, truly.

He could never love another.

As her form relaxed at the feeling of his hands on hers, so loving in spite of the power that they held, she could not help but yawn softly, eyes growing teary as her ease allowed the weight of the day to truly set in.

Her dearest Dream Lord smirked up at her, his brow raised knowingly and his eyes twinkling as he watched her fight off the eternally tempting wiles of sleep.

What a sweet little thing, so helpless in her battles against her own biology that it was entirely too amusing to ignore, and always far too entertaining to neglect to bear witness to.

"You are tired, my dear."

The Lord of Dreams stated matter of factly, tugging his beloved closer using his soft grip on her hands so he could properly brush some of her hair behind her ear, a gesture which caused her eyelids to flutter closed briefly before they snapped open once more, her fight against herself not yet over in her eyes (though Dream could see clearly in the way that she swayed on her own two feet that there was already an obvious victor).

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head,

"You need to rest, sweet stardust. Let me bring you back to the bedroom."

He spoke gently, rising to guide her back to their soft and familiar bed only to halt when he heard her reply.

"No, I don't want to go back, you're just going to leave once you think I'm tired enough not to follow."

The Dream Lord faltered upon hearing this, raising a questioning brow in response before lowering himself down upon his throne once more, though this time he pulled his wife right along with him, sitting her on his lap in order to get a better look at her exhausted expression.

He frowned.

"Have you been staying awake on purpose, my love? Lying in wait for me as you promised you would not do?"

She shook her head, but he could see the way that the blood rushed into her cheeks as she tried to explain, embarrassed to admit the things that she had to in order to quell his worries of any intentional harm having been done.

"No, of course not, I just..."

The Lord of Dreams hummed and brought one hand to her back, rubbing up and down along her spine and feeling her lean against him unintentionally in response, her bones heavy and all too prepared to sink into whatever comfort they could find.

"You just what, dearest?"

He urged, causing his lover to nod blearily in response, slowly coming back to reality again.

"I just find that sometimes I cannot bear to sleep alone, that the bed feels far too wide and empty without you in it."

Dream fought back a slight smile upon hearing this, feeling more than a little bit proud to know that his wife could rely upon him enough to truly need him so (though he was notably unhappy to hear that this was causing her any amount of unnecessary strife).

"And is tonight one of those nights, beloved?"

He asked, watching as she nodded, her head lolling slightly upon her neck as her overworked muscles struggled to remain in control over her all too tired body and mind.

"Poor thing,"

Dream all but purred in response, adjusting his love upon his lap until she was leaning against him, breaths warm on his neck and body seeming to grow heavier by the second as the feeling of his familiar closeness drove her into a type of ease that was felt only at a lover's closeness.

"That will certainly have to be remedied, won't it?"

He murmured against her ear, feeling her shiver in response, nuzzling closer with a nod as he gathered his coat that had been hanging on the back of the dais behind him with just one hand, draping it over her body and pressing a soft kiss against her head as he felt her begin to drift off into a much needed and far too well deserved slumber.

"Rest now, wife, mine."

He said softly, feeling his dearest love smile gently against his skin at his familiar words and the use of his favorite (and almost sickeningly sweet) nickname for her,

"I will see to it that no one interrupts you as you do."

If she had been more awake, perhaps the woman would have rolled her eyes or even offered a sarcastic retort in response to her husband's dramatics, but instead she simply nudged herself closer, pressing a gentle kiss against the pale flesh of his neck before she drifted off for the very first time that night, feeling truly safe in the arms of her most adoring love.

And when morning arrived, and the throne room became far less uninhabited, the two of them made for quite a sight, indeed.

After all, who would have thought that the Lord of Dreams might choose to sleep simply to live life as his dear wife did, his cheek pressed gently against her head and his arms wrapped around her as slumber found them both, pulling them closer together, ever still, in the very same way that they belonged now, and always would for the remainder of eternity, and perhaps even beyond that.

ao3 link

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You: A for Aphrodisiac

Summary: On a quest to save your little brother, you and your fated companion Dream of the Endless, run into a small problem in Aphrodite's Temple.

Notes: ~2.2k words, GUYS! I finally wrote a fic that wasn't below 500 or above 5,000 words, it just doesn't need any random side characters... or a definitive plot.

Warnings: MDNI - 18+, dubious consent, sex pollen, aphrodisiac (duh), porn without plot, unprotected sex (get tested yearly guys), P in V, no foreplay just straight fucking, Dream is a red flag but he's my red flag. I am willing to die on that hill.

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

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Next

“A temple of Aphrodite?” You question as you walk through the marbled entrance. The overwhelming smell of roses fills your senses and the honks of swans disappear as you cross into the building.

Morpheus follows closely behind. The drizzle of rain seemingly bounces off his coat and hair leaving him dry like the Sahara. On the other hand, you, the poor human with no otherworldly affiliations, were soaked to the bone. Your light jacket and sundress stuck to your skin until it became itchy and you quickly take off your jacket to dry easier in the momentary shelter. 

You miss the way Morpheus stares at your exposed shoulders and legs. His eyes run up and down your body, to the way the dress sticks to you like a second skin.

“Aphrodite loved Ares, unlike her vowed husband. But such is the game of gods.” Morpheus explains and peels his eyes away from you. 

You lean on a large pillar that supports a large brazier, one of many others. The heat helps you warm up and the shivers slowly leave your body as it dries your clothes. 

“So, Ares is… here?” You say without much confidence.

When the fates set you out on this quest to find your brother, you hadn’t even packed your lunch yet. They just threw you to the wind and then gave you Morpheus as a guide. As for him, it was so “He could get out of the house more” as his older sister has explained it to you. 

So, here you were, soaked in summer rain and sharing conversation with Dream of the Endless on a quest to find your kidnapped brother - all of which happened since this morning. The everything bagel and cream cheese you had for breakfast sat uncomfortably in your stomach, the same stomach that was screaming at you to eat something as your journey had left you to skip the midday meal. 

“Ares is behind this gate created by Aphrodite,” Dream sighs as if he were spelling out the obvious. “Yes, it is a possibility.”

You simply roll your eyes. For someone who is almost infinitely older than you, he certainly didn’t act like it. Feeling warmer and dry you started exploring the temple, running your fingers across the divots in the carved stone much like the climbing ivy that decorated the walls. 

At the end of the temple stood a magnificent statue of Aphrodite herself, wrapped in cloth and her hair flowing in the wind. Beneath her pedestal, you could make out a rectangular outline made out of large roses. 

“Hey! The door!” You exclaim in excitement. As much as you hate to admit it, Morpheus was right. He usually was right but you’d rather keep that comment to yourself, in case the ego inflates any more of his head and he drifts off. Which, would unfortunately leave you on your own to solve these puzzles. 

Morpheus appears behind you, peering over your shoulder at the door. 

“Seems like a hidden mechanism. It would be wise to not touc-”

You press your palm onto the center of the door and it gives away to the pressure of it. 

“You fool!” Morpheus seethes out and you tense. 

It seems like a trap, now that you think about it. With bated breath you wait, slowly inching yourself closer to Morpheus in hopes that the King of Dreams may be able to protect you if something were to go wrong. 

Yet, nothing. 

The door slides back into place, the sound of marble against marble scraping against each other in the otherwise completely quiet sanctuary. The quiet atmosphere stays peaceful for a few seconds but ends when a yelp escapes you when the roses suddenly go into full bloom, the petals giving a “floosh” right in your face, its sweet pollen dusting both of your bodies. You stare wide-eyed at it waiting for anything else to happen. When nothing did, you let out a sigh of relief and turn to Dream with a smile. 

“See, nothing to worry about.” You shrug with your palms facing upwards. The two of you stare back as a golden engraving appears on the door. 

“One from two, enter together.” You read out loud while trying to dust off the shimmering pollen, sneezing when some enter your nose instead. 

Great, a riddle but nothing comes to your mind as you think. Morpheus glares at you still and his eyes drift down to the palm that touched the door. 

“Your hand is glowing,” He states. 

You look down at your open palm and panic. The skin is bright pink and as Morpheus has stated, glowing. You scream at your hand and shake it aggressively. When the glowing still doesn’t reside you scream again and face the palm towards Morpheus’ face and shake it aggressively to grab his attention. 

“Enough,” He commands and grabs your wrist. The grip is stern but it doesn’t hurt and the warmth of his skin calms you down. 

It is now that you realize that the skin doesn’t actually hurt. There’s no burning sensation or pins or needles, nothing. Morpheus takes a closer look at your hand and you can feel the exhale of his breath fanning your palm. It tickles and you try to pull away, but his grip doesn’t relent. 

“What? Do you see something?” You ask, your other hand is clenched in on itself as a way of grounding yourself. 

Morpheus doesn’t entertain you with an answer and instead brings his face closer. A sound that you didn’t know you could produce comes out from your throat as you feel the warm, slick feeling of his tongue on your palm. 

“Wha..mm” Your words fall short and he licks again and a whimper leaves your lips. You look up at him, his eyes are closed as he inhales deeply.

He brings your hand to his cheek and leans into it. When you release your hand and he lets you, you see that your glowing mark has smeared to his cheek. You come in closer, nervous about marking the Endless but he stops you again. He peers at you, all silver gone from his eyes and instead blown pupils pull you deep into their voids. 

His hands find themselves around your waist and you place your hands on his chest to stop him from invading any more of your space. It doesn’t and he advances still. His brooding act doesn’t help with voicing whatever he could possibly be thinking. 

“Hey, what’s gotten into you,” You release a moan at the end when he presses his nose to the junction of your neck. The hot breath released from his mouth had your lower regions start to grow hot and slick. 

When his tongue licks the length of your neck, your fingers grasp desperately at the lapels of his jacket, holding on tight as your knee buckle beneath you. Morpheus smelled like grass after a summer thunderstorm and he stood sturdy like an old oak tree. 

You whisper his name and his grip tightens more, bruising and unforgiving. 

He groans into your neck. “Aphrodisiac.” 

Of course, Aphrodisiac, named after the goddess Aphrodite, the very goddess you are trying to please and solve her riddle. The thought crosses your mind momentarily but it is quickly cut short by Morpheus’ continued administration. The pink stain spreads further on Morpheus, anywhere and everywhere you touch him. Your cheek was pink as well, where he touched yours and markings of his tongue glowed pink as he continued his kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. 

“Oh, gods,” You moan into his hair as he dives deeper towards your chest. Your body is turning hot and you can’t tell if it’s just the aphrodisiac or the way he is touching you. Perhaps it’s neither, perhaps it’s both. Either way, you can’t stop the sounds that escape your lips. 

He presses forward and you step back until your back hits the pedestal and Morpheus’ large frame follows, trapping you between a rock and a harder place. You can feel his erection pressing against your stomach, hot and heavy and begging to be released. 

With restraint, Morpheus pulls back and pants into your neck. Your own breath was ragged, your tongue felt heavy when you speak. 

“Please,” You whisper, your hands travel down his chest, pink smearing along his black shirt, and cup his erection. 

He looks at you now, eyes peering into your soul asking you if you really did want this. You nod, not trusting your voice for a second time. 

“Say it,” He commands again, his forehead pressed against yours. “Say it,” He whispers in a plea. 

You tip your head up and respond with the strength you have left. “Yes,” You murmur against his lips, barely brushing yours with his own. 

He seals the deal with a kiss and hands once again go to your waist. He grabs you, hoisting you up and your legs immediately wrap themselves around his lean torso. You impatiently grind your heat into his as he dips his hands below your dress line and moves your undergarments to the side. 

It was rushed, it was sloppy and it was nowhere near romantic, yet you’ve never felt so much excitement. No one was near but the peering gaze of the daunting Aphrodite statue made you feel exposed. Morpheus doesn’t bother to warm you up for him and the heat of his cock presses against your cunt. He pushes forward and it stings. Tears swell in your eyes at the intrusion, his cock splitting you open as he sets a rhythmic pace. 

“Forgive me, forgive me,” He chants into your ear but the words fly in one ear and out the other. The pleasure the Dream Lord was giving you more important and present in your mind. 

Your hand reaches into his hair and grabs onto his roots. A groan sings from his throat and you can’t help it when your lips connect to his Adam’s apple. You leave bruising kisses along his neck and continuously feel the vibrations of his moans, each one low and gritty. 

Morpheus felt like he was about to lose his mind if he didn’t quickly finish the two of you off. His body felt like it was on fire and his head pounded in his skull with ideologies of fucking you until you were nothing but a pile of pleasure. When your nails grip his shoulders, he welcomes the pain and bites down on your collarbone to suppress his wanton moans. 

You were too sweet for him, a type of innocence that he didn’t want to taint. Tears well up in his eyes as he realizes that he did it without him even knowing. The aphrodisiac completely consumes the two of you. He loved it, the feeling of your legs wrapped around his waist, your grip on his hair, your moans filling the space and echoing around the temple, but were not his to take. 

“More, more, more,” You moan, head thrown back towards the ceiling and he couldn’t deny you the pleasure.

His thrusts become ferocious, slamming into you harder and harder until you were just a babbling mess in front of him. Your words range from his name to curses to simple pleas. The contractions of your cunt spasming around him make him falter for a moment but he presses on. When your orgasm reaches you, your scream is muffled by his open mouth kiss. His thrusts turn sloppy and uneven before he finishes as well and you feel the way his cock pulses within you. His semen drips out of your spent hole and mixes with your release on the polished marble floor. 

Your body deflates as the orgasm finishes and you’re left panting and leaning on Morpheus as your thighs tremble around his waist. The door behind you opens with an ungodly scrapping sound and you look behind you. Lust was still evident in your eyes but you were pulled back to the real world again. 

The aphrodisiac wore off and a blush rose high into your cheeks. You push against Morpheus’ chest not wanting to be in his space, asking him to put you down, but quickly realize that it was a bad idea when your knees buckle and you start to fall. 

Morpheus grabs onto you to steady you and you murmur a thanks, too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes. The aphrodisiac has made you look at Morpheus in a different light, but there were more important matters at hand. You take one steady breath and readjust your underwear and dress, Morpheus releases his grip on your arms as you go to turn towards the open door. 

Beyond the door is nothing but darkness with a slight wind blowing out towards you and the smell of metal and leather comes into your nose. Before you can go, Morpheus’ fingers wrap around your arm again. 

“Should we… talk about it?” He asks in that low voice of his. 

You look back at him, somehow finding the confidence to look at him in the eyes. You find that they are full of adoration and passion that it turns your eyes downwards again. You’ve heard the rumors of what it means to be the lover to Dream of the Endless. It is rainbows and butterflies, the world at the edge of your fingertips, but one wrong move, and you are cast away like you were less than nothing. You think of Nada, Queen of the First People, who is still condemned to Hell for declining his promise to make her queen of the Dreaming. 

It’s too much, you have your brother to save, and there is no room to talk about love. 

“Later,” You say instead. You still need his help and if the promise of ‘later’ keeps him around long enough until the end of your quest, then so be it. 

“Very well. Later,” He repeats then follows you into the realm of Ares.

Next

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This is going to be a 26 part series, all porn, no plot hehe ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)

Until the next fic,

♡ Yours, Layla

[swanimagines]

LOST DREAMS | MORPHEUS

Summary: Your ancestor was cursed by Morpheus long ago so the women in your family would be plagued with eternal wakefulness, but you don't believe in the curse or that some ancient Greek god was the cause of it, like your grandmother always told you about. Doctors have told you that the only reason they can think of is most likely a severe case of ADHD in the family and that's why you never feel sleepy. But then you get a job at a Burgess mansion and find something in the basement that makes your grandmother's stories sounding not so crazy after all...

Even on her deathbed, your grandma had talked about the "curse" she claimed the whole family suffered from. You could see how it can be seen as a curse, never feeling sleepy and how you always had energy for everything - because of that, you had had plenty of boring moments every day and it did suck. Not to mention, your friends talking about how funny and good dreams they have had always sparked jealousy within you. It was something you had never experienced.

Doctors had researched you since you were a baby, but they couldn't pinpoint a reason for being unable to fall asleep either. They had you running from test to test, even sent you to another country for more tests with a world top sleep disorder clinic, but nothing worked. Some doctors were afraid that your condition is a type of fatal insomnia, and that you were slowly dying. But those were knocked down too with brain scans, and after your grandma and mother could testify that they had been exactly the same since birth, doctors were facing yet another puzzle. The condition was absolutely unheard of. You heard stories that someone in your family had been burned as a witch for not sleeping, which ultimately made you believe it's something running in the family.

And after some debating between doctors, they too decided that it's an extremely rare type of ADHD, the most severe there is, and your family are the first ones it's been detected to have. They also believed that something in your brains had aligned so perfectly that you not sleeping doesn't affect the brains negatively and expressed their will to be able to take your brains for medical research.

Your grandmother, however, wasn't keen on that thought. She had made up her mind that it's the ancient Greek god Morpheus who had cursed you with it, and nothing would be found from her brains.

"Mother, Morpheus is an ancient Greek god. He's not real," you remember your mother saying as you were visiting your grandma in the hospital. "There's also no thing as curses or magic."

Your grandma had pursed her lips and shook her head. "Oh my dear foolish girl, you just don't understand it. Our ancestor, many centuries ago, was Morpheus' lover, and-"

"She rejected him, we all remember," you interrupted. "He cursed her and everyone in her family to never feel tired."

Your grandma had let out a long breath through her nose. "No, he cursed the women with it. Not men. It is said that he became enraged when his lover refused his kingdom, and when she passed away, he took revenge by striking down all of us with this curse, preventing us from getting proper rest. And now, you're the newest one of our family to carrying the curse. Your future daughters will carry it too, and it will be passed on to their daughters in turn."

You had sighed in chorus with your mother, your grandma had always been clearly delusional about it. Likely brainwashed by her own mother, who had been brainwashed by her mother and so on. But you and your mother were new generation, who didn't believe in such absurd stories and had reliable medical research under your fingertips but unfortunately, you had had to listen your grandma talking about it all your childhood.

When your grandma had passed away, you moved out from your hometown and settling to a nice little town in southern England. You got a job as a cleaner-occasional cook-extra pay caretaker in a fancy mansion owned by an elderly couple, and life was good.

But every mansion has its mysteries, and this mansion had one too. A secret door with a hidden passcode tablet, and only some could go in. No one, besides the guards or Alex and Paul, really knew what was behind it, and no one dared to find it out for themselves. After all, everyone knew that if Alex found out that his servant was going into the room, he would likely fire them, so no one dared to try their luck.

No one, except you. You knew how to get in, and even though you never tried before, you had the feeling that it would work. So you had gone in secretly in the middle of the night, your "curse" as your little helper. You had succeeded in distracting the guards and crept your way down the stairs.

You came to a large, dark hall and you swallowed as you switched the light on. The lights blinded you for a moment, and you raised your arm in front of your eyes, before slowly peeking through and your heart jumped a little upon seeing a figure sitting there. It was a man, who was inside a large glass sphere, not even looking at you gawking at him. Then you realised that he was naked, and quickly turned your head away from his lower regions.

"I'm sorry, I...I..." You stuttered, your voice croaking. "I didn't think there's someone here. Everyone is so mysterious and I wanted to see what is it that is kept here. Wait, you... you aren't kept here as a prisoner, are you?"

The man didn't reply, but his eyes shifted at you, and you felt like a mouse caught in the stare of an owl. His gaze was intense, and a shiver ran down your spine.

You took it as a yes. "Can I help you? Can I do anything?" you continued nervously.

The man kept quiet, but you caught something in his eyes, something which looked like disbelief. You opened your mouth to speak again, but then closed it. You glanced over your shoulder before taking a step towards the sphere, and noticed strange vigils in a circle on the ground.

"What's this?" you asked, still somehow wishing the man would say something. Even when you knew he wouldn't. But his gaze was on the circle now too and he cocked his head slightly at it.

"This sounds stupid, but it looks like a summoning circle. I've probably watched supernatural movies a little too much," you chuckled. The man slowly raised his eyes on you again, and then back down again. You frowned. "Do you... want me to break it?" you asked hesitantly.

The man's piercing blue eyes once again met yours. Then he, very slowly, nodded.

You swallowed hard and stepped forward, fingers trembling as you touched the circle with your foot. It immediately felt like some unknown force was pulling at you, like you were being pulled towards it and you made a stroke, erasing a small segment of the circle.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and heard noise from the stairway and immediately panicked, looking at the man and then sprinting towards the light. You turned it off and made your way to the farthest corner of the basement, hoping no one would notice you once lights were on.

After a few moments, you heard a chair scrape the stone floor and carefully peered towards the doorway. The other guard had come back and was reading a newspaper. You watched as the man in the glass sphere slowly stood up, pressing his hands on the glass and suddenly, all hell was loose.

A wind surged through the room, knocking the doors open and making a terrible sound. You covered your ears, before realising it wasn't just the wind. There was a bright light, you saw the figure of that man climbing out of the sphere and you screamed, not knowing what was happening.

Suddenly, the guard was on the ground and another bright light appeared. Then the man in the glass sphere was gone, just like that. The light, the wind and the noise had all stopped the moment that man had gone and you slowly got up. Your knees buckled but you forced yourself to go upstairs, to pretend you were never there. You were shaken. What had happened?

---

Some time after that, you were preparing yourself for another book marathon. You didn't feel like watching Netflix right now, so books it was. But then something happened, something that had never happened before.

You fell asleep. You put your head on the pillow and began reading when you were taken over this strange feeling of wanting to close your eyes, so you did. And sleep came. Suddenly, you were transferred in front of a huge castle, dragons and fairies flying over you and a sweet smell that tickled your nose. And you were sure you had lost your mind.

"Hello," a deep voice said from beside you and you twirled around to see the man from the sphere in front of you. Now, fortunately, fully dressed. He smiled and you stared at him, confused.

"How- How are you here?" You asked, frowning. This was absurd, almost like a... dream?

"You're dreaming," the man confirmed your suspicion. Your eyes widened.

"What? H-how?"

"I lifted the curse. So you could meet me."

You blinked. "C-curse?"

"Yes. A long time ago, I cursed a woman who didn't accept my proposal, when I asked her to be my queen when she died. So I told her that every woman who is born in her family, will be cursed by eternal wakefulness." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "I was bitter and inconsiderate when I did that, taken by my feelings and sadness."

"Wait, so... my grandmother was right? You... you are..."

"Morpheus, the King of Dreams." He smirked. "Your kind thinks I'm just a story, but I exist, in fact. The whole dream realm exists, and we can't tell stories without dreams."

You still stood there, dumfounded. "You lifted the curse so I'm... I'm able to sleep and dream now?"

Morpheus smiled slightly. "Yes. As a thank you for releasing me."

You blinked again, and then took in your surroundings. A dragon sat next to you, its wings spread wide and a fairy sitting on top of it, playing with some sort of crystal ball.

"If I may, I can show you around the realm?" Morpheus offered and you gave him a nod. "Very well. Follow me."

You started walking with him, and in a few minutes, you arrived at a forest. The trees were tall and wide, with red flowers blooming everywhere. On your left, you could hear the sound of water flowing and on your right, a waterfall. A beautiful place, one that you wanted to stay in forever.

"There is a lake not far from here, where the fairies usually gather. It is very beautiful, would you like to see it?" Morpheus suggested and you nodded. "Follow me."

He walked into the woods, and shortly after that, you reached the lake. The water sparkled in the sunlight, and the land surrounding it was green. Many little houses were built around the edges, and you couldn't help but stare at them. They reminded you of dollhouses, and you quickly realised that they were where fairies lived.

"This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen," you murmured.

"It is." Morpheus agreed. "Would you like to see my palace?"

You looked at him questioningly and he smiled.

"The house of the king of dreams is located in the heart of the realm. You need my permission to enter it, and only a few may. But you have earned my trust."

You nodded. "Thank you."

He smiled again. "Then follow me."

You walked out of the forest, and suddenly were met with the palace once again. It was bigger than you expected, even though you had been expecting it to be big. The garden was large and full of flowers, while the inside was decorated in a warm golden colour, with paintings hanging from the walls. He led you to the library, and you looked around at the bookshelves and the many old manuscripts.

"I heard you like books, so I thought you would like this," Morpheus said, smiling. "You can read whatever you want."

"Really?" You gasped, and his smile grew slightly. "Thank you!"

You went through the endless shelves, looking at all the books you could see. Some you recognised, others you hadn't seen before. Morpheus stood there for a moment, before exiting the room.

Dreams were even more magical than anyone had ever told you, and you couldn't wait to see a whole new world of them.

---

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

[roguelov]

Imagine sitting on Morpheus’ lap while he is sitting on his throne reading a book🤭

It’s the best spot in all of the Dreaming 🫠

He will pull you close to his chest, slowly wrapping an arm around you as his lips brush past your ear. He will gently murmur the words in your ear which try to lull you to sleep. And when you fully relax into him he has this soft smile.

‘Sleep, my dear,’ he whispers

If you try to protest that you want to be awake and spend time with him, he will place a few kisses on your neck and side of your head.

‘We are spending time together, now rest I can feel how exhausted you are’

He will cradle you as you sleep soundly in his lap.

Now if you stay awake, you may crane your head to look at him just to admire and be in awe that he’s in your life. He will give you a sly smile already knowing what you are thinking about because he is thinking the same

‘Yes?’ He hums

‘Nothing,’ you rest your head on his shoulder. ‘Keep reading’

‘As you wish’ he says as kisses your temple

[7-wonders]

whenever the fates called morpheus love or dear it just gives me this image of morpheus coming to meet reader at their volunteer job at an old peoples home and all the elderly ladies giggling and calling him such a handsome man and why if they were a few decades younger they'd have him for themselves you're standing in the background not knowing how to reply to any of that

(This was like pulling teeth. When will my ability to write return from war?)

There are many little quirks when it comes to being in a relationship with a primordial, all-powerful being such as Dream of the Endless. One such instance is that time does not run the same for an Endless as it does for a human. Morpheus can lose minutes, hours, days to his duties between one blink and the next.

The Dreaming, that fantastical kingdom that your lover rules over, runs on the same logic. You can spend what feels like an hour in the Dreaming, only for it to be an entire day later in the Waking. Likewise, weeks in the Dreaming can be merely an hour in the Waking. It's disconcerting to creatures that have lived far longer than you.

All of this is to say that your meetings often don't have a specific date or time when they're in the Waking, simply because Morpheus doesn't know. He tries, though it's difficult: clocks do not work in the Dreaming, and Matthew is too important a raven to be constantly flying to the Waking to check the time so that Morpheus can "run off" (Matthew's words) with you. You've actually started to look forward to the spontaneity—it helps that he usually gets lucky and catches you when you're home or alone and don't have to worry about explaining how he just randomly appeared out of thin air.

Though it's rare, him coming to the Waking to see you and you being in public has happened before. This time, he shows up when you're just finishing up at the retirement home you volunteer at a couple times a month—you're in charge of what's supposed to be a crossword puzzles group, but what is mainly just a gossip group.

Most mortals aren't able to see Morpheus when he doesn't want to be seen. You're not most mortals, however, and you've gotten pretty damn good at sensing when he's around, which is why you're the only one that notices him lurking in the corner closest to the door.

"Hi," you mouth, trying and failing to hide your grin as you give him a discreet wave.

Your excitement must be palpable, because the women quickly pick up on it and thus catch sight of a tall, dark, and handsome stranger across the room. Ethel, the boldest of the group by far, grabs your arm and yanks you down to her level. "Is that the boyfriend?"

"Yes, that's the boyfriend."

They all know about the boyfriend because you've gushed about your beloved to this little group more than a few times. How can you not, though? Especially when you're surrounded by those who enjoy living vicariously through you and thus cajole you into sharing such stories about your love life.

"She thought he was fake, y'know," Ida informs you.

"Did not!" Ethel retorts. "I was just curious because you never showed us any pictures!"

"I've told you before that Morpheus is a little camera-shy." You don't actually know if that's the case or not; you just haven't yet figured out how to ask the anthropomorphic personification of dreams and nightmares if he wants to take a cute couple's selfie.

"Morpheus! Oh, how exotic." The little group titters, thrilled at having learned his name.

The man (-shaped being) of the hour has moved, placing a hand on your lower back so as to not frighten you when he suddenly stands next to you. You smile up at him and are greeted with the smallest of smiles in return while the sounds of your seniors oohing and aahing fade into mere background noise. Surroundings tend to become meaningless when you see Morpheus; all that matters then is you and he.

Morpheus is the one to remind you that you have an audience when he turns his attention upon said audience. He bows his head politely and says, "I greet you, ladies."

As you expected, they go absolutely nuts when they hear his voice.

"Oh my!" Ida blushes.

Ethel beams. "Aren't you a handsome one!"

"Why, if I were a few decades younger..." Shirley, who has absolutely no filter whatsoever, winks at Morpheus.

You sputter, your eyes wide and blood rushing to your cheeks. "Shirley!"

"What? I have eyes!"

While you're ready to hide your face in your hands and die (maybe you should see if Death has a cell phone), Morpheus simply hums in amusement. "You are very kind."

"And you are a sweetheart."

"Okay, that does it for me today," you interrupt. It's not a lie; you were literally saying your goodbyes and on your way out before Morpheus arrived! "I'll see you guys in a couple of weeks."

"You bring Morpheus around any time, alright?"

You can't get out of there fast enough, and Morpheus lets you practically drag him towards the parking lot. Once you're out in the fresh air (and away from any of the windows that your favorite gals could be spying from), you bury your head in Morpheus's shoulder and groan.

"I'm sorry. That was so embarrassing," you lament.

"Why? They were...sweet, if not a little overt in their affections."

You lift your head up to meet his eyes. "That's why it was embarrassing, my love."

"You are very clearly dear to them. They simply want to see you happy."

"I'm assuming you know that with your super special dream magic?"

"Daydreams and hopes are quite loud, starlight." He smirks because you know damn well just how loud some daydreams can be (specifically yours when you're thinking about Morpheus) before pressing his lips to your forehead.

"Well, you're certainly in their good graces now. They've been so nosy since they found out I'm seeing someone."

"So I lived up to their expectations, then?"

Now it's your turn to smirk. "Baby, you were beyond their wildest dreams."

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Don't Stop (Sandman One-Shot)

​GIF: Originally posted by @imironstark

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Smut. You and Morpheus are in the exploratory stages of your relationship. Morpheus asks to worship you, and all is going well. At least, that is, until you start to wake up...

Warnings: Minors DNI. Smut. Porn with plot. Kissing. Oral sex (AFAB receiving). Slight dominant Morpheus.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: So I watched Sweetbitter. With my partner. Maybe not the best idea because suppressing the squeaks of excitement whenever Tom came on screen was tough and not always 100% effective! The hyper fixation is still going strong... Hope you enjoy this one. All my love, Saskia xxx

Sandman Masterlist

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It is only when the violent spinning not only stops but holds for several minutes after, does Morpheus make steps in allowing his guard to drop.

He straightens elegantly out of his crouching position, withdrawing his hands from the scree smattered earth. He looks to his left, to Lucienne, who is warily regarding the ground and sky, wondering if they might start to rapidly switch places again.

She meets Morpheus' gaze and adjusts her round-framed spectacles with a steady hand.

"I might be speaking too soon, sir, but I truly think it is over now."

Morpheus takes one last steely appraisal of the horizon, almost daring it to misbehave.

He nods once. "I believe you are correct, Lucienne."

"Will you be requiring anything else from me, my lord?"

"Not at present."

"Very well," Lucienne replies with a warm smile. "I will return to the palace now."

She does a little incline of the head in deference and goes to start the winding walk back towards the glowing lights of the Dreaming's seat of power.

Morpheus calls to his friend.

"I thank you for your persistence in supporting me to resolve these issues. I suggest you take some extra hours to rest."

"I suggest you do the same, sir."

Though her reply is innocuous, the knowing gleam in Lucienne's brown eyes hints at an alternative interpretation, one that Morpheus cannot help but notice.

It was becoming generally well known that he was in the early stages of courtship with a dreamer, you, and there was no doubt that Lucienne was aware of how far the relationship with you had recently gone.

He raises an eyebrow in response, earning a grin from Lucienne and then he watches her walk away.

Once alone, Morpheus allows his eyes to flutter closed as he sifts through the myriad of dormant minds and tunes into the space occupied by yours. He takes a reading of your emotions, thankful to find that you are contented and have not been rendered feeling neglected by his absence.

There's a faint undercurrent lingering below the surface level of your emotions that he is also able to lock on to given the familiarity that you share.

Desire.

They are present, filling you with neediness and longing.

A longing to be touched, to be touched by him.

Morpheus is with you in seconds, appearing in the doorway of the room you have chosen to conceal yourself in.

You are curled up in a large armchair by a panoramic window that frames the mountainous vista beyond. The torches that mark equidistant points along the bridge leading to the palace project a soft gleaming warmth over your skin. You are gazing softly at the landscape, the fingertips of one hand combing through your hair, the others trailing up and down your inner thigh.

Such an innocent yet provocative display. It makes Morpheus' voice drop to an even deeper and more sultry register than usual as he calls to you.

You are out of the chair instantly, meeting him at the threshold of the room. Your heart pumps out an allegro drum beat, the sound of the blood rushing in your ears like a waterfall.

You are pulled into a searing kiss, arms encircle your waist to ensure you are flush against his hips and chest. It is a relief that he is holding you in such a way for your knees are threatening to give out within seconds.

The power he has, in his body, his actions, through his words, in a metaphysical sense; you are helpless against them all.

When Morpheus pulls away from the kiss, you follow him on instinct, aching for more. He smiles faintly at your eagerness but maintains the gap in order to explain his length of absence.

"I must apologise, Y/N. The issue was a little more complex than Lucienne and I had anticipated."

He's looking down with a tint of shame in his aquamarine eyes.

You slide your hands up his forearms, gripping tightly and angling your head so you can capture his gaze.

"There is nothing to be sorry for. Your work and the safety of your dreamers take priority."

He simply nods. Your unwavering understanding is always on the side of overwhelming for him.

You register this in his stance.

"You feel a little tense. I can help with that if you want. Like I did last night?"

You move a hand up to stroke the hair on the back of his head. It is a form of touch that never fails to release tension.

Morpheus indulges in your attentions for a bit, leaning into you and sighing deeply, before staring at you directly with sudden seriousness.

"I cannot deny that what you did for me yesterday was beyond exquisite," He leans in to speak by your ear. "But it is my turn to worship you."

"Oh," you swallow down your surprise. "Okay."

Morpheus wastes no time in guiding you back towards the armchair and sits you on the very edge of the seat pad.

He carefully removes his long sweeping coat and then drops to his knees before you.

His rosy lips are parted, eyes dark pools, both standing out against his beautifully pale skin.

"Where can I touch you?" He asks urgently.

"Everywhere," you reply as the flutterings in your stomach warble your voice.

He begins by trailing his hands up your legs. The patterns he draws are intricate and intoxicating.

"May I have the honour of tasting you?"

"Yes," you consent, breathless already.

You remove your trousers and underwear in the same movement and allow Morpheus to adjust your position.

The image of him looking up at you with lust and intent as he parts your legs is immediately imprinted deep within your memories.

He trails innocent kisses up your left calf to your knee. A long-fingered hand is hooked under it and once Morpheus slips your leg over his shoulder, he continues his path along your inner thigh.

Wisps of his midnight hair tickle your skin and make you squirm in the most delicious way. You whimper when you feel his cool breath hit your pulsing core.

Morpheus speaks your name reverently, a taster of what was about to come.

He leans in the last few inches and kisses your vulva. You melt with an ecstasy-filled exhale. His tongue gently licks at your labia, encouraging them to part and expose your clit. He laps at you with precise strokes before sealing his mouth over the nub.

It's like a direct current has been shot into your body; you jolt into him, moaning his name with abandon.

He hums against you, lips curling into a naughty smirk. You are completely at his mercy and he knows it all too well.

He manipulates your clit between his plush lips and the pleasure reaches a higher ground.

"Whatever you do, please don't stop," you beg.

Morpheus obeys, slowly increasing and decreasing the pressure of his suckling until you are almost unable to think clearly anymore.

Then, suddenly, you are distracted by a strange feeling radiating through your body. You recognise it with immediacy. It's like you are being dragged upwards by a marionette string. You are waking up.

You stiffen, falling silent, hoping above all hope that if you stay still, you can stave off the pull back to consciousness.

Morpheus, noticing your change in demeanour, stops his attentions and pulls away.

He speaks your name in a caring tone, "Are you alright?"

You grab the arm rests in a further attempt to keep yourself in the Dreaming. The sensation isn't letting up.

You respond with haste, "I think I'm waking up. I don't think I can stop it."

Waking had been the cause of cutting short your time with Morpheus many times before. It was to be expected; you were a human being with things like sunlight and birdsong and routines to contend with. The worst had been mid-way through a conversation, one that you were able to pick up again the next time you passed the Dreaming threshold.

Right here while Morpheus was working on you so perfectly, however left you with one thought: Why did it have to be now?

Your surroundings flicker and all sound becomes warped. The support of Morpheus' body and the chair vanish.

"I'm sorry." They are the last words you speak before you disappear.

You come to in the semi-darkness of your bedroom. Your chest is heaving and wetness has spilled onto your pyjamas from the dream of Morpheus lavishing your aroused core.

Your phone is blasting out a morning alarm, its shrillness the clear root of you disappearing on him.

It turns out though, initially unknown to you, that Morpheus was having none of this separation business. That is until you notice him sitting between your splayed legs.

"Morpheus?! What are you -"

"You asked me not to stop, my dearest dreamer," he interrupts, pouring every ounce of seductive energy into the words as he can muster.

Morpheus' eyes bore into yours as he climbs up to fully straddle your body. He reaches over you to turn off the alarm with a precise tap on the screen of your phone. He takes a deep breath.

"Much better," he purrs. The pitch of his voice is pleasure enough on its own, even without the fact that his hips are subtly grinding against yours.

"Now, would you like to resume with what we were doing before we were so rudely interrupted by that repugnant tone?"

You nod.

"Verbal consent, please."

It's suddenly so hard to speak now he is in your bedroom, your domain. You hope that a clear display will be an acceptable alternative. You reach your hands down to rid yourself of your pyjamas only to have each wrist pinned either side of your head.

You gasp.

"I need to hear you say it out loud, Y/N."

Another wave of hot, stifling arousal is released between your legs. You shiver in reaction to it, to his dominance.

Your mouth is open but no coherent words leave it, just the starts of failed sentences. Morpheus comes to your aid:

"Will you allow me to taste you here, in the waking world, just as I did in my own realm?"

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes, Morpheus. Please. Put your mouth on me."

He hums his approval before lowering your shorts and beginning to feast on you once more.

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Tag List: @herfantasyworldd @shadowqueen1318

[lis-likes-fics]

Your Delusion

Pairing: dark!Dream of the Endless x Reader Word Count: 4.8k words Warnings: NSFW, dubcon, somnophilia, fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, forced(?) breeding, swearing... A/N: This was to get me out of Writer's Block. Kind of worked? Dream is a bit (ridiculously) delulu in here. He's doing some mental gymnastics in here, and I applaud him cause same. Anyway, enjoy this strange, strange man.

You look so beautiful like this.

Wrapped in your sheets with your eyes so delicately closed, lips so delicately parted, breaths so delicately passed, you look like a dream. My dream.

And you shall always be mine.

No matter what you may believe.

Your rejection was a white hot burn in my chest, a clawing in my throat. The searing courses through my veins, but I know that I cannot blame you for what you had said. You meant only the best, you meant only not to worry me.

But you shouldn't need to worry. Not about such things.

When I saw you in that field, my field—Fiddler’s Green—I knew then and there that I could await our union no longer. I had to have you, I had to keep you.

You turned when you felt me near, and your eyes filled with confusion for just a moment before the recognition of my presence replaced it. You always knew it was me in the end. No matter how many dreams you dreamt.

“Dream lord,” you greeted me, with a smile so soft and true. Oh, how I love your smile.

I took slow steps across the green grasses beneath me, slowly approaching. “It has been a while since you have come here.”

I usually find you with the brothers of the First Story, or perhaps with Lucienne in the library. Other days, you would wander through other fields or amongst the waters of the Golden Rivers. But not then.

Then, you stood in the flowers of Fiddler’s Green. The very place we first met.

“How are you?” I wondered.

You glanced away. It was a shy little gesture, and a quick one at that. In no time, your eyes were back to me and it meant the world. “Better now,” you mumbled, placing your hand against a tree. “I almost forgot how beautiful this place was.”

Though I would usually acknowledge your words, I cannot help but to stare. “I have missed you.” I cannot always find time to see you with all the work I find myself caught in, but when I do, you never disappoint. It had been a couple of nights since last we saw one another, but it was a couple of nights too long.

“I missed you, too.” You said it as though you truly meant it, and that was all I needed. “How have you been doing?”

“Thinking.” I moved closer. There was still too much distance between us.

You tilted your head gently. “About?”

“Many things,” I shrugged. “But mostly you.”

You seemed almost taken aback by what I said, but you remain as kind as ever. “Me?” you chuckled—a bashful thing, really.

My eyes never left you. You're so beautiful, I mustn't ever look away. Perhaps I may lose you if I do…

“I can't keep you from my mind.” I watched as your smile faltered and your face shifted. “Every moment, I think of you.”

You tried to take a step back, but I grabbed your hands and held them within mine. I let the words spill, and I confessed what I had been holding in all this time. “You come and you go from my realm as you please. You smile and laugh as though any being could resist falling for the very thought of you. I look at you, and I know that what I feel is true.”

You looked away from me, down at our hands joined so firmly in one another. You close your eyes shut, and you squeeze them tight. “Dream, I don't think I understand.”

Then I would help you understand. You needed to know how much I need you, how much I crave you.

“I long for you,” I confessed. “Your beauty, your touch, your heart… And I can't keep from you any longer, my dear.”

I stepped even closer, the distance nearly squashed as I set my forehead against your own. “Dream,” your voice seemed so far away, so uncertain. But you mustn't feel that way.

“Be mine,” the desperation began to become clearer in my voice. “Join me as my wife and queen.” My thumb brushed the finger where your wedding ring would be placed. I would almost feel it now… “I shall protect you with my life and love you with all that I am–”

“No.”

The icy chill of your disagreement, the stern tone of your voice, it created a sour taste on my tongue that I deeply resented.

I did not break away from you, though my grip on your hands may have tightened a bit more than they should have. “What?” My voice is low, upset and full of disbelief. You pulled your hands from mine, and I knew that I had to let you or else I may have hurt you.

“Dream…” you sighed heavily, like it pained you. “I can't.”

My eyes fixed on you, and I thought you could see the sudden darkness in them. Perhaps you did, but it wasn't enough.

“Why not?”

“Look at you.” You gesture toward me, taking another few steps away to establish a distance that left me cold. Your voice was not as steady as I'm sure you hoped it would be, but it was firm nonetheless. “Look at me.”

Your hand slapped back down to your side. It was a defeated movement. Hopelessness filled you in the form of tears, and that's how I knew you cared.

“You are the King of Dreams,” you continued, “one of the Endless, the fucking—ruler of sleep and unconsciousness, who's been alive for eons.”

Your brows knitted together, and your hand reaches across your frame. “I'm some…human you've been talking to for the last year.”

I swallowed thickly, the sourness turning to a bitter agony. “Don't you love me?”

I sound pathetic asking, but I simply could not go another moment without knowing.

“Of course I love you!” you exclaimed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. The leaves in the trees around us shook incessantly, yet there was no wind. Your voice was weaker when you spoke again. “How can I not?”

Hope filled me, if only for a moment. If you loved me so, then why do you choose to deny me your hand?

“But I can't have you,” you explained. “I'm mortal, you're Endless. I will die, and you will go on living for damn near the rest of eternity.”

If time was what concerned you, we could take it away.

“I can get you immortality.” I tried to step closer, but you stepped away.

You shook your head. “It's not mine to take.”

It was times like these where I wish you weren't so good. It was times like these where I wish you were more selfish, more possessive.

“Nonsense,” I disagreed. “If you were mine, the whole of the Dreaming would be yours.” You grunted with such frustration that my own crawled up my neck and into my teeth.

“Morpheus.” I still don't like the way you said it…with such a stern resolve, so bitter and broken. “I can't… I've heard about what happens to those who love the Endless.”

I nearly scoff. “Is that what this is about?” I shake my head.

If danger was what concerned you, I would quash the threats set against my love.

“As I said, I can protect you.”

“I'm not afraid for me,” you urged, “I'm afraid for you.” Oh, my love, you hurt me so. “You've lost so much, I can't hurt you like that.” You took tentative steps away from me, looking down and finding it so difficult to reach my gaze. “It is easier for you to let me go and move on, than to humor this ‘relationship’ and get the both of us hurt in the process.”

You looked up, despite the pain, and you moved forward to take my face in your hands. I must close my eyes to relieve the ache of you so close to me now. Oh, how deeply you cut…

“Forget about me,” you insisted, trying to smile for my sake. I could see how much it hurt you. “I know it's not fair, but it's how it has to be.” When my hands land on your waist, you drop yours from my face.

Reluctantly, you set your hands on my wrists and pulled them slowly away from you. Your voice was soft, wavery. You were trying not to cry. “I am not meant for you.” You take a deep breath in. “And you were never meant for me.”

I didn't know what to say. Though, I suppose it did not matter, for the next moment, you were gone. You left from the Dreaming, and you were lost from my sight.

But that was days ago. You have been avoiding me since.

But I've been there. At every turn, I have been there. And I know you feel me, you know that I am always there—lurking, watching, waiting.

You know it's me when you glance over your shoulder for the shadow in the corner of your eye. You know it's me in the shiver down your spine, the phantom billow of my robes as I ghost past. You know it's me in the faintest sound of breath out of sync with your own.

And I can tell that you know it's me now, in the walls of your bedroom while you lay fast asleep. You look so beautiful, soft and serene. To be in your dreams is one thing, but to watch you lost in your sleep is something else. To know that my realm has so much power, so much influence over something as perfect as you… If only I could watch you sleep forever.

Perhaps I could… but I shall not.

I don't understand how you were so sure of how deeply we did not belong, but I did know that you were wrong. Of course you're wrong.

We are meant to be together. We always were and we always will be. I am not prepared to let you go.

You worry so deeply about us, my well-being and yours if anything were to happen. But as long as there was a gap between us, we could never be together. If our eternal marriage wasn't enough to fill that, then I would just have to find something else.

Something deeper. Something more important than bands on our fingers.

And every kingdom needs its heir.

I shed my robes, the sky hidden beneath them as black as the darkest sapphires. My gentle steps are silent as I approach, the moonlight glinting on your skin now blocked by my frame.

Slowly, I sit on the bed beside you, and I cannot resist the touch of my hand against your cheek. You're so soft and sweet, especially when you lean your face into my hand. I smile, and I know you love me.

I lean down ever so slowly, and my lips press to your forehead. Your head shifts, a little keen against me. Oh, how you beg for my touch, my darling.

And I shall give it.

I remove the covers from your body, revealing you to me. Your shirt rides up your belly, exposing the soft expanse of your skin to me. I place my hand there, and hear you sigh. I slide down, my fingers caressing your skin until my hand dips below your shorts and presses to the cotton of your undergarment.

Your breath hitches when you feel my fingers against your clothed clit, brushing so gently, it's like a phantom touch. Still, you do not wake.

Spreading your legs for me, I cup your perfect little pussy in my palm and sigh. Just as I thought you'd be, warm and wet and waiting for me. I tease, stroking gently with my fingers to bring your arousal further. You squirm against my touch, but still you do not wake. You know I am here, you have no reason to fret.

I knew you loved me.

I lean down and kiss you, though you're so tired you do not kiss back. But that’s alright, you are all I need.

I pull away from you, standing once again and standing at the foot of the bed. I grab at the waistband of your shorts and pull them and your panties down your legs, pausing when you stir too much. When you no longer shift, I pull them off completely.

Oh, you are lovely.

My hands stroke the expanse of your smooth skin, and you sigh at my every touch. Your brows knit together, a far off focus in your dreamland. My fingers tease the seam of your sweet cunt once more, delving between your wetting folds to feel how hot you are around me.

You begin to stir again, but my hand to your stomach eases you. I do not want you to wake yet. Not yet. Soon.

Your walls clench around my finger, and I reward them with another. A tiny whimper slips through your lips. I massage my fingers in and out of you, deep and slow movements that coax more and more wetness from your cunt. My thumb presses to your clit, and your hips roll against me very slightly.

I can no longer control myself. I move onto my knees and hold your legs apart. I just want to taste you. And when my tongue meets the arousal seeping from your lips, a deep moan rumbles within me.

Such sweet honey you make all for me, only for me. I suckle around you, licking and sucking and tasting you with a growing enthusiasm. Your tiny whimpers are becoming moans, broken and needy as you keen into my touch. Your fists clench and unclench, your thighs try to close, your hips roll against my mouth. But I keep you steady, steady and still and open wide for me.

As I suck around your clit, I can feel you clenching around my tongue, which licks in and out of you and laps up your sweetness. You're so close, I can feel it, I can taste it. Your desperation for a release is a potent syrup on my tongue.

Your body shakes and your mewling moans fill the room when you come undone. You gasp, a pitchy, wonderful sound that makes me suck harder around your pulsing clit. You try to break away from me, but I only pull you closer, drunk on your taste and refusing to let up until I have had my fill.

It's a wonderful thing, watching you cum for me so deep in your sleep. I can see flashes of your dreams behind my eyes, skin against skin and warmth and passion and even brief images of me. I feel you tremble beneath me, shuddering and whimpering so sweetly.

I work you through your brief overstimulation, groaning around your pussy as your taste overcomes my senses. The intoxication is a precious salve to my hunger for you, but it does not last long. No, I will never not hunger for you.

And I soon shall never have to find myself starved of you either.

The next time you cum, your back arches off the bed and your mewls mix with your heavy gasp. When I hear the sound of your quickening heart and feel the tug of your slowly building consciousness, I pull apart from you.

Shh. Not yet. Sleep, my love. Soon you shall awake and see me giving you all that you desire.

I place my hand to hold your cheek, and your fluttering eyes steady once more as they seal shut in your returning slumber. And when all is right, I smile. Your slick allows my fingers to glide right through.

Perfect.

I move away, stripping the both of us until we're nothing but skin. The bed dips under my weight, and I pull your thighs over my legs.

Taking my cock in my hand, I hiss lightly. You've truly made a mess of me: hot and hard and leaking. I lean down to you, pressing my lips to the side of your face and dipping down into your neck.

“Don't worry, my love,” I whisper in your ear. “We shall be together.”

I line myself with you, and holding my breath, I thrust inside. Warmth blossoms along my body, and I shudder at the tight heat which welcomes me. “All of us.”

You whine as I push farther inside of you, going deeper and deeper until you've taken me all the way. A thick sigh heaves from my chest at the way you clench, and my hips stutter at the feeling. I pull back and thrust in once more, building a steady rhythm that grows with my passion and desperation for you.

You whimper and moan, squirming beneath me as you stir beneath the slumber I've placed you in. The images in your mind—our bodies, our lips, flashes and breaths—they mix like a cocktail that further my intoxication.

My thrusts are perhaps a bit too rushed for our first time together, but I cannot help it. You are better than I have ever imagined you'd be. I want to savor this, to take my time with you, to cherish each feeling and each taste and each sight…

But we shall have plenty of time for that in the future. Right now, I must ravage your body lying so pliant and willing for me.

I kiss your neck, taking the soft flesh between my teeth and sucking. You taste like flowers and honey, a precious taste I shall never tire of. I rut into you, listening to the sweet sounds of your slick along my cock, listening to your weak moans, your needy whimpers. I'm determined to make you cum with me as I rub your aching little clit with the pad of my thumb.

My need for you trumps everything else. I want nothing more than to bury myself as deeply inside of you as I possibly can and fill you with my love, a love that would take root within you and grow our dearest child. I hook my arms underneath your thighs and put you in the perfect position to receive it, chest to chest as I bury my face in the warm column of your throat.

“Oh, my love.” The words spill out of me as the pleasure grips my throat, and I thrust deeply inside of you. In the same thrust, your back arches off the bed and you actually shake in my arms as you cum around my cock, squeezing me so tight that I have no choice but to cum inside of you.

A rough groan tears through my throat and into your ear. As your tight pussy trembles around you, you gasp as the pleasure rips through you. I feel the harsh tug of sleep being taken from you, and you fully awake with me still buried so perfectly in your cunt.

You choke on my name, and the sound is so sweet that my hips stutter in a half-thrust that pulls a moan out of you. I smile, pulling back without pulling out and looking down at you. You're so beautiful like this, dazed from the pleasure, still coated in sleep with the confusion of it all.

“Dream,” you whisper again, your voice thick with sleep and something else. “Dream, what–?”

You don't have time to speak because I have already begun fucking inside of you again. I'm not quite done yet—I want to make certain that you shall carry my heir in your belly, certain that I shall claim you forever.

And I'm already so addicted to the feeling of your body. To be without it would be a crime.

With the relief of a release, I can focus now as I gaze down at you. My hips thrust in and out—a steady, quick, rough rhythm that has you moaning with loud and helpless sounds that are music to my ears. Your hands reach up, clenching my arms with an uncertain goal.

You struggle to speak, so driven by your lust for me that all you can do is form wordless words as I fuck you. You curse and swear, glassy eyes on me as I hold you close.

Suddenly, I pull out of you, and the most pathetic whine slips from your throat. I flip you onto your belly, spreading your legs and pushing your chest down as I enter you from behind. You welcome me, as I knew you would. My perfect girl.

“Hello, my darling,” I whisper through a groan after a particularly rough thrust. “Did you miss me?”

You mutter something of my name, and I smile.

“I missed you, too,” I say. I press my chest to your back, bringing my hand to wrap around your neck so gently. “But I shall never leave you again. And you shall never leave me.”

You try to say something but it doesn't matter. I pick up my pace, my strength. I hold you tightly and fuck into you with everything that I have. As my fingers circle your abused clit, you moan and gasp for breath as all the pleasure stacks on top of you, one right after the other.

“You're so good for me, my love,” I sigh. “You're always so good for me, as you sleep and as you wake.” Another whimper resounds.

I've longed for this moment for so long. This moment where you would be beneath me, moaning my name and welcoming me into your intimate warmth. Your body moves against me, seeking me out and shuddering under my touch as I give you everything you need. All the slick has built with the addition of my cum dripping out of you, coating me and the sheets below in white. The sounds we make together—the moans, the creaks, the smacks—it's a beautiful cacophony of sweet music. I could stay here forever, locked in this room with you and your body and your love, fucking you with all my passion and making love to you with all my heart.

Your hand reaches out to grab something, settling for the pillow, which you grip so hard, it looks as though you may tear into the fabric. The pictures in your mind have become so much more muddled. Now they're flashes of white, the vague movements of bodies and the vague sounds of groans. It's a mess, a beautiful mess of tangled thoughts and watered down cohesion.

Your moans shudder like cries when I pull another orgasm from your weak little body. As I fuck you through it, the pleasure becomes all the better as you go blinded by it.

“So perfect, my beautiful dear.” I pull out of you, and you sigh as I do, as if you think this is over. I turn you back onto your back.

My knuckles smooth gently down the side of your face as you stare up at me, your eyes glazed over. I kiss you, a deep, bruising kiss filled with all of my lust for you. It takes you a moment, but you kiss back. It's a wonderful feeling.

As our lips are joined, I join our bodies once more. You gasp into my mouth as my cock fills you once more. I trail my kisses along your jaw and back to your neck, painting you in love bites and taking you as mine.

My hips snap into you, my hands hold you tight, my lips lave along your skin. Oh, how I love you so. It shows in the way that I thrust, in the way that I sigh, in the way that I kiss, in the way that I hold you close to me. I can't let go.

A couple of stray tears slip down your cheeks, and I kiss them away. Poor thing, so full of pleasure that you're crying for it.

Without giving you much time to recover, my thumb is at your clit again. I've become utterly intoxicated with the sight of your undoing: the way you tremble and shake, the way you gasp and sigh. I love you.

And for a while, we stay like this, rocking and grinding and moaning into one another. The sight of our faces are drenched in utter bliss, and I bask in the moment. I can feel the beginnings of a second release prickling within me, and my steady thrusts begin to falter.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Your dazed eyes look up at me, your question interrupted by a moan. “Say–ah! Say what?”

“Tell me that you love me. As I love you.” I press my forehead against yours, rutting into you with all my strength as I begin to lose control. “Tell me, my darling. Tell me.”

“I…” You clench your jaw, arching your back as you struggle to speak through your pleasure. “Fuck, Dream.”

Your mouth is agape, and your eyes are closed so sweetly. But I need to hear you say it. I need it. “Say it.” My grip on your hip tightens, my thumb on your clit becomes more ruthless.

Lost in euphoria, you gasp and nearly choke on the words you give to me. “I love you.” You huff out a heavy breath, holding me tighter as your lips search for my skin. Their sloppy contact slides against me, wanting nothing more than to feel my skin against you. “I love you, Dream. Fuck, don’t stop, I love you.”

I sigh at the pleasure it gives me to hear those words on your delicate lips. “Again. Say it again.”

“I love you.” A whimpering sound mixes with a groan. “I love you, Dream.”

My fuse is running out, and with the way you tighten around me, I don’t stand a chance as my rough thrusts bring the both of us even closer to our highs. I can taste it on my tongue. The taste of your honeyed flower skin and your sweet arousal is my own personal wine.

My voice is barely a whisper in my haste. “Say it.”

“I love you, Morpheus.”

The dam breaks as I spill inside of you, shoving my cock as deep as I could possibly reach. Your gasp joins mine, and our sounds mingle with heaving breaths, your pitchy moans mixing with my deepened ones. You hold me as close as I hold you, and our lips slot together in the white noise of our ecstasy.

My hips continue their endless pursuit within you, desperate rolls thrusting within you just to make certain we’ve created our heir. For a while, I lay there on top of you, sparing you my weight but offering my warmth as I stay comfortably sheathed within you. Our gasping breaths have settled to gentle sighs, and you lay limply beneath me as you stare up at the ceiling. Contemplating.

When the time has unfortunately come to remove myself from you, I do as I adjust some hair from your face and kiss your forehead.

There was a fog in the room that I had not noticed before—not a physical one, of course. It’s beginning to clear in the aftermath of our combined pleasure. Your eyes slowly find mine, glazed still but the clearest they have been all night. Now that the blinding bliss has settled and you’ve fully awakened, there’s a clarity you’ve suddenly gained. You take in the sight of my face and I smile down at you, brushing my thumb over your cheek.

“Dream,” you mutter gently, to which I hum. “What have you done?”

My smile grows. I place a kiss to your lips, one that you seem to have trouble returning. Hooking my finger under your chin, I ensure you see me as I speak softly, a gentle hum that I know you shall hear.

“No one shall steal you from me now. Not even Death, no one. You are mine and only mine.”

Your eyes are glossy now, unshed tears gracing them that I hope to wipe away. “Dream,” you whisper, holding onto me with a tight grasp that I embrace. You look like you’ll say something, something dire and important. Instead, you close your mouth and smile, the kind of smile that must be pushed for.

“I love you,” you whisper. There’s an undertone to it that I dismiss. You’re tired, that’s all. I know you love me, and that’s all that matters.

I smile, kissing you again with all the love in my heart. My hand on your waist tightens, and I must remember that you are human. Pulling away from your lips, I brush my finger over your bottom one.

“I love you, too, my darling wife.”

Nothing can take that from us now.

The Sandman taglist: @poetic-fiasco @the-nerdy-goddess @life-on-needs @fanreader @jamiethenerdymonster @sarahbullet235 @majestyjade @melinoe-the-rat @katsukis1wife @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @hatterripper31 @kplatzman @kmc1989 @thegen3sisark Dreamers taglist: @meg-the-second-greatest @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @gortycs @octo-octopie @damianodavidhands @alexxavicry @rosaren2498 @sayumiht @jaritzaflores94 @evabalexeeva @cl-0-vr Tag yourself here...

[dyns33]

For a smile

Dream of the Endless x female reader, sweet fools as ever

Following the formalization of their relationship, Morpheus had been very clear with Y/N on two points.

He wasn't dancing, and he wasn't laughing.

Regarding the first point, he never gave a real explanation, simply refusing to move as Y/N spun around him to the music, frozen like a statue and calmly repeating that he didn't dance, ever.

Concerning his laughter, she had managed to make him laugh several times, and it quickly became apparent that he was simply ashamed, because this laughter was quite peculiar, to use simple and neutral terms, since the dreams master was easily hurt. It was likely that he was also simply ashamed of the way he danced.

Y/N had made the decision not to force him to do things he didn't like or that made him uncomfortable. It seemed normal in a relationship after all, even if Morpheus had some difficulty with the concept at first.

Fortunately they had talked about it, and he had come to accept his mortal lover's requests, even if he didn't understand them all.

“Why do you want me to knock on your door to enter your home ?”

"Because maybe I'm busy or with someone."

"… Do you have things to hide from me, agápi mou ?"

"No, but it's just being polite. I know I enter your kingdom every night without really asking you, but you sense that I'm coming. For my part, I almost have a heart attack every time you appear behind me without making a sound."

"I can send Matthew to let you know I'm coming so you won't be surprised."

"Dream. The door."

“Very well, agápi mou.”

"… I'm really not hiding anything from you, you know ?"

“I know, I was just saying that to tease you.”

It was sometimes difficult to know what Morpheus was thinking.

Not always, because the Dreaming reflected his mood without him being able to do anything about it, and he had difficulty with certain feelings, like sadness or anger.

But joy. Dream of the Endless had difficulty expressing joy.

It wasn't just the laughter that was the problem. He rarely smiled. So rarely that Y/N almost jumped the first time she saw this wonder appear on his face, and he had no excuse to hide this sweetness from her. His skin hadn't cracked, his features hadn't distorted, he was even more handsome than usual.

Y/N dreamed of seeing him smile more often, if not always. But his lips remained frozen in a flat, imperturbable line most of the time.

The few times the smile appeared, it was sudden, so vivid that you only had to click your eyes at the wrong time to miss it, and each time it was as if Y/N was seeing it for the first time.

A pure marvel.

In order not to scare Morpheus, who tended to act like a wild cat, Y/N tried not to stare too much or show interest. As discreetly as possible, she nevertheless did everything to make him offer her this spectacle.

Most of the time it worked, but Dream also smiled without her needing to do anything, simply because she said or did something he found charming.

“Are you still trying to hear my laugh ?”

"Not at all ! I swore I wouldn't do it again. Why ?"

“You’ve been terribly distracted and affectionate lately, agápi mou.”

"I'm just happy to be with you." She said, resting her head on his shoulder, her arms around him. "You're very distracting, and huggable."

"It is rather you who deserves such adjectives. I have a lot of difficulty concentrating on my task. Your presence in my domain monopolizes all my attention, and I only think of you when you are awake, waiting for your returning or fighting the urge to visit you in the Waking."

"Flatterer."

Her response made him smile again and Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach.

When Morpheus talked about needing to see her, Y/N could understand the feeling. She felt the same way about him, but also about his smile.

She asked the inhabitants of the Dreaming for advice. Lucienne thought poems might help. Abel had time to respond that talking about old stories would give him pleasure, before Cain planted an axe in his head, saying that she could confide secrets to the nightmares master. Mervyn made some rather indecent comments about strawberries and a bed. Matthew simply begged her to keep the Dreaming from raining again.

“It’s adorable that you try to make him smile, but you know him, I know him, if he misunderstands something, it will be a disaster.”

“Why would he take it badly that I wanted to make him smile ?”

"He might think you're mocking him. He's very sensitive, this guy."

"I don't know what he went through before we were together, but I would never make fun of him. I just want him to be happy."

"I know, kid. But does he know that ?"

She should have listened, and remembered once again that Dream was a big, timid cat, unaccustomed to receiving signs of affection. He didn't hate that she surrounded him with love, but he seemed lost that it was so common.

Such an outburst of passion could only be linked to madness, and he knew that Y/N was not in his younger sister's domain. Maybe she wanted to get something in return.

After some time, Y/N then got the exact opposite of what she was looking for. Each of her romantic or generous actions received an almost frightened look from Morpheus, his entire face resembling that of a marble statue, devoid of a smile.

She might have been afraid if she hadn't known he would never hurt her. Following the many mistakes he had made in the past with his lovers, Dream had ended up learning certain things, like keeping calm, and trying to communicate.

The key word being 'trying'.

"Ilie mou, you offer me so much affection, what can I give you in return ? Is your sleep disturbed ? Are you lacking inspiration ? Do you have a particular need ?"

"No. Everything is fine." Y/N replied, not understanding that his questions were full of confusion and fear.

"… I see. Is it honey then ? A little sweetness before having to announce something bitter ?"

"If it's a poem, it's quite strange. I don't have any honey, Morpheus. Would you like some tea ?"

He ended up believing that she wanted to leave him, but without knowing how to tell him, too kind or worried that he would react violently like with the others before her.

The thought crossed his mind that the process was far too cruel for Y/N. It seemed absurd to shower him with love in order to protect his feelings, only to tell him right after that she didn't love him anymore.

But it happened that some beings were thinking with their hearts, not listening to reason, and it was always possible that his beloved had not seen that far.

"I knew it… It's raining."

"Why do you say that like I'm responsible ? He might be saddened by something else, Matthew."

"He would have talked to you about it. Or he would have talked to me about it. He would have talked to someone about it. He loves to complain when it concerns his family or his work. Everyone needs to know that he is the poor wretch who has done nothing wrong and is trying to save the world. But for private matters ? He hides in a corner."

"… But he has no reason to be sad. It's true that he seems worried lately, but everything is fine between us."

It was a conversation as surreal as it was depressing, having to explain to the dreams lord that all the attention he had received for several weeks had no hidden meaning, no tragic end, but only the desire to make him happy and to see him smile, without expecting anything else in return.

That, he could understand. Morpheus loved seeing Y/N smile. It was just the fact that someone might care about him that was new to him. Absurd. Not deserved.

"Besides, agápi mou, I am happy in every moment spent with you. I tell you as soon as you ask me. Why so much fuss about my mouth ?"

“Don’t say that sentence again in that voice, I might faint.”

"So it's a question of aesthetics ? Don't you like my 'sulky goth teenager look' ?"

“I never said such a thing.”

“No, Matthew said so.”

"Hmm. I won't deny that you look beautiful when you smile and that's a plus. But I love you, even when you pout."

“I’m not pouting.”

"Of course not."

“I love you too, Ilie mou.” he said, kissing her.

Y/N’s response was to stare at him with wide eyes. Dream stared back, raising an eyebrow. She raised both, as a challenge, continuing to look at him, before she couldn't suppress her smile.

He rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop his lips from curling. The message was clear, even though they knew they were happy together, it was still nice to see their loved ones' faces lit up like that.

As with many things, it wasn't usual for the Endless, but smiling came naturally in Y/N's presence, so it shouldn't be too difficult to please her. Maybe one day they will even dance.

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

heavenly. ~ morpheus x reader (18+)

Summary: There are no words for how heavenly the sight of Morpheus falling apart underneath you is. II smut

Words: 719

Warnings: smut smut smut

Pairing: Morpheus x fem!Reader

Head thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted, hair tousled – a memory of your hands gripping it when he slid inside of you –, Morpheus is a sight for the Gods as you move on his lap.

The sounds escaping his mouth when you leave a trail of kisses on his neck are downright heavenly and the way he grabs your thighs, fingers burying themselves into the softness of them, makes you shiver.

The moonlight dimly illuminates his pale face and the stars and galaxies move slowly in the inside of his coat that he spread underneath you. When your name falls from his lips, soft and murmured like a prayer not meant for your ears, he shows you his true essence for the first time, becoming the very definition of a dream.

You lean back, looking for support on his legs, to see him better, to drink up his presence, drown in his sounds, melt in his touch.

“You’re distracted.” It’s a statement or an accusation, you’re not sure but it bothers you nonetheless. You don’t want him talking, you want to hear what sounds you can draw out of the Endless with the simple movement of your hips.

His eyes are now open, hands holding on even tighter. You don’t stop and feel him shudder. “I’m watching you,” you whisper into the night, a smile tugging on your lips. “Not such a bad idea after all, wasn’t it?”

He hears the challenge in your tone, the spark in his eyes tells you and the raspy tone confirms it. “I still prefer you underneath me, my love.”

You roll your eyes and your rhythm changes. You speed up, hips moving in the most delicious way and it makes him fucking moan. “Keep telling yourself that,” you chuckle, knowing full well that he will get back at you for this later on. But now, he is too occupied with the way you feel all around him.

Your breath hitches when he presses you down onto him and his hips rock up. A curse leaves your mouth that turns into whimpers and soft moans as he moves with you. One of his hands travels down but you push it away. He groans.

“Later,” you murmur. Now, you want to see him being lost in you, want to see him unravel. The thrill that rushes through your body feels unreal – it’s the pure thought of the God of Dreams, an Endless, falling apart from your touches, that turn you on even more.

Morpheus is close, you can feel it. His voice grows darker, his moans louder, and in your own body, the knot tightens. It tightens and tightens and when his movements begin to lose control, become more erratic with each thrust, it doesn’t take long for you to see stars in front of your eyes. You come, soft and trembling, back arching and with his name on your lips. He follows you shortly after and fuck, you just know that the image of him will never leave you again.

The waves of your orgasm wash over you and suddenly you lack any strength to hold yourself up any longer. He wraps an arm around you when you sink down to rest on his chest. He’s still breathing heavily, even when his fingers trace lazy lines on the skin of your body. You smile.

“You are awfully proud of yourself right now, aren’t you?”

The smile only widens at his words. “I have every right to be, Dream Lord,” you tease him. “I proved you wrong.”

He laughs silently underneath you. “Did you now?”

“Mhh,” you make and prop yourself up on the elbows. “Admit it, you loved having me on top of you.”

He watches you, mischief in his eyes. “Not more than having you underneath me.”

“As if. I believe the whole Dreaming heard you just now.”

He moves quick. So quick that you can’t help but yelp as he flips you over, pinning your wrists above your head. His lips hover about yours, his breath a ghostly touch, and your heart starts to beat faster. “My love, it doesn’t matter if they heard me. They didn’t hear you,” he murmurs, “and I believe that is the true shame here.”

They hear you after that, Morpheus makes sure of that.

thank you for reading! <3

masterlist

[writethrough]

Can I request a morpheus x reader where his s/o has curly/wavy hair? Or just reader being obsessed with touching his hair and he absolutely love it and he likes to do the same

Mid-Afternoon Dream

(Morpheus x Gender-Neutral Reader)

Synopsis: Morpheus enjoys his moment of peace with you.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 430

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me! I went with the second half of your idea since I like to try and keep Reader as up-to-interpretation as possible. I hope you enjoy!

You were lying on your couch, music playing softly from your record player. Spring was slowly shifting into summer, enough that you had opened your windows to feel the breeze drift through your home. 

The early afternoon rays filtered in, and everything seemed brighter and newer in that way only the warm weather brought. For this moment, everything was peaceful. 

Even Morpheus couldn’t find fault in it. Not when his head rested on your chest, and you were carding through his hair to the base of his neck. Your nails gently dragging down his scalp to the ends of his strands would’ve made him shiver if he were human. 

You’ve been like this for some time now, relaxing in each other's arms. It was a rare moment for the Dream King. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt this content. Though, it’d been happening more frequently since he’d met you. 

When he’s working, his mind often wondered to you, what you were doing, when he would see you, it’d become ever the distraction—be it a welcomed one. 

He hummed as your nails traced his neck, and you giggled lightly. He squeezed your side in return. 

Never had he thought he’d let anyone see him like this, not after all those years in that cage. But there was something in you that called him. He could let his guard down around you. And it was easier than he thought. 

You opened your arms to him and all he had to do was step closer. 

You placed a kiss on the top of his head, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“Have I put the Sandman to sleep?” you teased. 

He answered with his eyes closed. “You are the only creature capable of such a feat.” 

“You deserve some rest.” He could hear your smile, but there was seriousness, too. It made him lift to his elbow to look at you. 

You stared at one another a few moments until you reached out a hand to cup his cheek. Your thumb grazed his skin reverently, seemingly amazed that he was before you now. 

The corner of your lips ticked up as you took him in. This otherworldly being that wasn’t really a being at all. He was too perfect. It only made sense that he was a concept, one that provided all with the ability to escape, to wrap themselves in imagination, to set themselves free. 

“My Dream,” you whispered, almost like you hadn’t meant to. 

His eyes softened. His own hand reached up to caress your hair. 

“My heart.” 

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

Let me know if you want to be added to the list!

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Eros: Chapter Five

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: Flashback of Oneiros lurking as Reader sleeps, Explicit Language, Explicit Material.

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

Word Count: ~2.9k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Oneiros lies beside you, his body still humming with the lingering sensations of your passionate encounter. The soft glow of the room casts gentle shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes as he gazes at you. He is lost in thought, tracing patterns on your bare skin with his fingers, his touch tender yet insistent, admiring the marks already forming upon your beautiful flesh.

“Tell me about yourself, αστέρι μου,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody that wraps around you like a warm embrace. The endearment, meaning "my star," rolls off his tongue with a reverence that makes your heart flutter.

You shift slightly, your mind racing with thoughts and memories you aren’t ready to share, that you can’t share. You turn your head to meet his gaze, offering a soft smile instead of an answer. “There’s not much to tell,” you reply, attempting to brush off his inquiry.

Oneiros' eyes darken with a mix of frustration and determination. “There is always more to tell,” he insists gently. “You are a mystery to me, and I wish to unravel you.” His fingers brush against your lower lip, knowing you taste divine, a forbidden fruit ripe to be devoured.

As his touch lingers on your lips, a shiver runs down your spine, igniting a fire within you that you thought had been extinguished by your prior fervent carnal passions. His words stir something deep inside, a yearning for connection that both thrills and terrifies you. You know the dangers of revealing your true self, of who you would come to be to him, yet the longing in his eyes beckons you to let down your walls. Oh how you want to tell him everything.

“I am but a simple wife, waiting to go home.” That is as close to the truth as you can get.

But Oneiros isn't satisfied with the surface-level explanation. His eyes search yours, piercing through your defenses until you feel laid bare before him. You technically already are. He can sense the inner turmoil, unspoken secrets that weigh heavy on your heart.

"You carry a burden in your soul," he whispers, his voice a velvet caress in the dimly lit room. "I can see it in the way you hold yourself, in the shadows that flicker behind your eyes." His hand moves from your lips to cup your cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that has escaped your control.

“I am not here to relieve my burdens, my lord,” you tell him before slipping out from his hold and sitting on the edge of the bed. You stand and take a step forward, not knowing what to do. You are naked, without clothes, and have a complete mess between your legs.

Oneiros watches as you distance yourself, a mixture of understanding and frustration clouding his gaze. He knows there is a darkness that clings to you, a weight that seems to crush the light out of your very being. But he also sees the flicker of strength in your eyes, a determination that refuses to be snuffed out.

Silence settles between you, heavy with unspoken words and unshed tears. The air in the room feels charged, as if the very essence of the night holds its breath in anticipation of what will come next. Oneiros rises from the bed, his movements fluid and graceful as he approaches where you stand. His hands reach for yours as he steps up to your back. You tense as you feel his presence behind you, his warmth seeping into your skin even before his fingers graze yours. His touch is gentle, almost hesitant, as if he fears you might shatter beneath his fingertips. But there is a determination in his actions, a silent promise that he won't let you fall apart. Oneiros intertwines his fingers with yours, his touch a lifeline in the darkness that threatens to consume you.

“Indulge with me then,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear as the deep and silken tone of his voice makes you shiver. “Be mine, if only for the duration of Panathenaia.”

Rather than respond, you turn in place and stretch up on your toes as you bring his lips back to yours.

Oneiros stands silently in the corner of your dimly lit chamber, hidden in the shadows of the late night. The flickering light from an oil lamp casts seductive, dancing shadows across the room, teasingly illuminating your bare skin as you sleep peacefully. Outside, the distant sounds of the Panathenaia festival echo through the streets of Athens, a celebration of pleasure and indulgence. And here in this room, Oneiros can feel his own desires stirring as he gazes upon your alluring figure.

The satin sheets draped over your body glimmer under the light, revealing tantalizing glimpses of your curves and contours. Your hair cascades over the pillow like a river, framing your face in an ethereal glow. The scent of blooming jasmine fills the room from the courtyard outside, mingling with the heady aroma of incense burning in the corner. The gentle hum of nocturnal creatures provides a seductive backdrop for Oneiros' fantasies.

Each night, he is irresistibly drawn to you, unable to resist the magnetic pull you have over him. It seems as though you are intentionally avoiding him, but that only makes him want you more. As he stands there entranced by your beauty, a primal urge consumes him—a desire that is both carnal and cerebral.

He hungers for you, his gaze devouring every inch of your body beneath the sheer chiton. He longs to touch you, to claim you as his own. But he holds back, knowing that such an action would only deepen the mystery that surrounds you.

In your dreams, he finds even more enticing secrets—stories and places that hint at a future he can't fully grasp. Each night he spends watching over you only intensifies his longing for you, his need to consume every inch of you—body and soul. You are his puzzle to solve, a mysterious enigma that drives him wild with desire.

The soft breeze from the open window carries the faint scent of saltwater and distant laughter, a reminder of the festivities happening outside. But here in this room, Oneiros is consumed only by his insatiable longing for you. The slightest movement from your sleeping form causes his inner being to stir, imagining all the ways he could make you moan and writhe beneath him. And as the night wears on, the moon hanging low in the sky, Oneiros remains steadfast in his watch over you—ever lost in his dreams and desires for you.

You are in dire need of a bath, certainly after Oneiros had his way with you and left you a mess between your legs. Not that you are complaining, but you do care that a servant might see you in such a state. The mortification you’d feel! So you extricate yourself from Oneiros’ embrace and saunter towards the private baths in his grand quarters. You only have to look over your shoulder once, your eyes meeting predatory silver ones, to silently convince the Endless to follow suit.

The private baths are a luxurious escape from the bedroom, which has long since been perfumed by the smell of your activities. With a lavish marble basin filled with steaming water and fragrant oils, you let out a relaxed sigh. You choose a few of your favorite scented oils and watch them swirl into the water. Finally, you slowly step into the tub, the hot water enveloping your body and washing away the remnants of your passion. You lean back against the side of the tub, ignoring the lurking Endless.

It isn't long before Oneiros decides to join you in the bath, his dark eyes burning with desire and longing. He steps down into the water, carefully at first, as if not to disturb the bubbles that have formed atop the warm, scented water. His silver eyes meet yours over your shoulder, reflecting the faint light from the bathing chamber's candles, and you can see the heat of his desire in their depths.

In the dim light, he approaches you slowly, his muscles rippling beneath his skin as he kneels before you. His hands reach for your body, and with mere finger widths separating you, you can feel the intensity of his lust. His touch makes your skin tingle, as if he were stirring the very essence of your being. He traces his fingers along your wet shoulder, down your arm, and finally makes a loop around your wrist, gently pulling you closer.

You can't deny the intense gravity of his desire, and your own passion surges within you like a raging storm. As he brings your lips to his, you feel not just the heat of his kiss, but the primal energy emanating from his being. His tongue dances with yours, a desperate exploration of intimacy that leaves you breathless with need.

The moment your tongues intertwine in an erotic dance, you press your body closer and closer until the water around you begins to churn. Beads of water form on your flesh, and your skin seems to come alive with a shimmering, ethereal glow. Breaking the kiss, Oneiros weaves a hand into your hair and pulls your head back, his lips finding the droplets of water snaking across your flesh. He captures each droplet within his mouth, tongue running along your skin in search of more as he feasts on the nectar it holds. The sensation of his wet, warm lips and tongue savoring the remnants of the water sends shivers down your spine, making you crave more of his teases.

With your head still tilted back, he begins a slow, tender kiss along the line of your jaw, enjoying the sensation of your skin against his lips. His hands explore your curves, gently gliding from your hips to the sensitive skin at the small of your back. You sigh softly, arching your back to allow his hands full access to your body.

Oneiros' hands continue their exploration, sliding over the curves of your breasts, gently brushing over your nipples that harden under his touch. The intensity of his desire is palpable as he cups your breasts in his hands, kneading them gently while his lips trace a path from your neck down to your collarbone.

You can't help but gasp softly as his mouth moves lower, sending shivers of anticipation through your body. Your fingers tangle in his hair, nails digging into his scalp as Oneiros' tongue flicks against your sensitive nipple. The sensation is electrifying and your breath catches as he suckles on it, teasing it with his teeth in a way that heightens the pleasure to a new level.

“You better not start anything you cannot finish in the bath,” you tell him, feeling almost breathless.

Oneiros chuckles softly, his lips still dancing along the curve of your breast. "I make no promises," he replies, his voice low and seductive. "But I can assure you, I intend to pleasure you in ways you have never experienced before."

Leaning down, he continues to lavish attention on your nipples, carefully nipping and licking at them, sending waves of pleasure surging through your body. With a small gasp, your body is moved through the water until Oneiros is lounging on the seat of the bath and you stand with your back to him. You swallow thickly, your eyes staring straight ahead as devilish fingers caress your back in appreciation.

“You are true divinity,” he whispers. “Every touch, every kiss, is a gift I am honored to give and take.”

His hands move to your hips, gently pulling you backwards until you straddle him and your back is pressed against his chest. Your eyelids flutter and breaths quicken when you feel the hardness of his body pressed against your most intimate area.

Oneiros slides his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, holding one forearm beneath your breasts and the other so the palm of his hand lays just under your navel. His fingers begin to trace delicate patterns on your abdomen. Sweet torture. The water ripples around them as he draws, his every touch driving you to the point of madness.

"Oneiros," you gasp, arching your back and jerking a hand to cover the one on your stomach.

“Do you know how much I want you?" his voice is a husky rumble against your neck and you can feel the subtle scrape of teeth. "How much I crave your touch, your taste, your very essence?"

Oh, you have an idea, but you are also a glutton for punishment. Certainly with this side of your husband you have never experienced before.

"Then prove it," you whisper, leaning back into him. Oneiros lets out a low growl, his grip on you tightening slightly. His lips brush against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"With pleasure," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with promise.

With a gentle swivel of his hips, you feel his cock pressing against you, stiff and throbbing. Your eyelashes flutter only once before your body is dragged down against his erect cock as Oneiros pushes his hips up. A strained and ragged gasp emerges from your lips at the sensation of his cock sinking into your body.

His breath is hot against your neck, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he moves in and out, each motion a calculated move choreographed by desire. You arch your back and meet his every thrust with an eagerness that leaves you breathless.

"More," you beg, wanting him to be deeper, harder, faster. Oneiros obliges, but not in the way you wish. His thrusts become deeper, more punishing even, and that has your free hand latching onto his thigh in a death grip. His mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck and the Endless bites with the intention of marking you as his.

With teeth sinking into your flesh, an electric current runs through your body and mingles with the fierce pleasure of his relentless thrusts. You cry out, a mix of pain and pleasure, your heart pounding in sync with his rough rhythm. Oneiros' lips meet the wound he has just created, soothing it with his gentle kisses. In that moment, he withdraws and you gasp for air, your entire body electrified from the force of his claim. Your head drops against his shoulder and you whisper, "I'm yours, Oneiros. I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours."

As the echo of your whispered affirmations hangs in the air, Oneiros slows his pace, finally pulling out completely. He gently lifts you off of him and aligns you in front of him, nudging you down so that you are facing him when your legs straddle him. Your legs still tremble and your breaths are still heavy with the aftermath of passion, but your eyes meet his, filled with hunger and desire. He looks so hungry. Oneiros guides your hips, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He pulls you flush against his chest.

“You asked, beloved,” he purrs and his hands find your waist once more. You can't help but feel the same fierce need that had generated your initial plea. You give him your own desirous gaze, your desire mirroring the intensity in his eyes.

"More," your word speaks in clear demand and the predatory smirk upon his lips grows. He thrusts himself back into you, his unrelenting need and hunger for you consuming him. You’d extinguish his pain, you’d soothe his hurt. His nails dig into your hips as he pushes deeper, driving himself into you with a fervor that leaves you breathless.

Your fingers dig into the muscles of his shoulders, urging him to take you with more force, to claim every inch of your body. The sound of your strained and ethereal moans reverberates off the tiled walls of the bath, a testament to the intensity of your pleasure. Oneiros' hips continue their relentless thrusting, his intense gaze never leaving your half-lidded eyes. Your expression is beyond celestial, as if you are in a state of euphoria from his touch.

Oneiros watches as love and desire consume your entire being. He knows he will never get enough of you.

Your moans turn into a primal cry, your ecstasy imminent. With a final force, Oneiros thrusts into you, pushing you higher until you are soaring together. A cry departs your lips and your ecstasy mirrors his. For a brief moment, the world disappears, leaving only the two of you in the purgatory of your passion. You collapse against his chest, arms barely hanging limp over his shoulders as your legs tremble in numbness. While you catch your breath, he gazes at you, his expression softening. In this intimate moment, the passion between you feels overwhelming. His fingers gently caress your cheek, tracing its delicate contours as if to memorize every line. No doubt he will. They dig into your hair, stroking the strands and caressing your scalp.

You let out a sigh and drop your cheek to his shoulder.

"Would you help me wash up, my lord? I seem to have lost control of my legs."

You almost hate how smug he looks upon doing so.

Date Published: 5/29/24

Last Edit: 5/29/24

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[auroraborealyss]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬' 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐈.

⊹ pairing: morpheus x reader

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

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

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

⊹ word count: 3027

⊹ previous part: morpheus' love languages part i.

⊹ now playing: take me to church by hozier

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

call him by his name

not dream, but morpheus

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

you tried to hold your moans back once

biggest mistake of your life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

always asks for consent

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

has a thing for walls

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

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

overstimulation

worships your body

kissed every inch of your body once

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

is still a sucker for eye contact

looks up through his lashes as he eats you out

looks down at you as he fucks into you

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

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

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

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

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

you’ve ridden him on his throne

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

can unclasp your bra with one hand

pulls your underwear down with his teeth

bites on thighs

and neck

and chest

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

just kiss it away

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

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

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

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

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

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

he’ll add a finger soon enough

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

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

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

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

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

and don't forget to sit on his face

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and you do pass out

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

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

however, he does like to take his time teasing you

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

hand on your upper thigh when eating with others

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

night is definitely prime time for sex

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

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

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

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

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

rather, he uses toys to overstimulate

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

the gift he does like to give you is lingerie

he gives you an assortment of different colours in different materials

his favourite is whatever makes you feel the most confident

gives you lingerie that is meant to be ripped off you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

back to his greatest gift to you being his cock

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

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

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

nearly cums in your mouth immediately

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @aurorarevenclaw1927

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You Series Masterlist

26 Worlds, 26 ways of pleasure

All of these stories are not connected so you can jump around as you like. There will only be 26 prompts in this list, one for each letter of the alphabet.

MDNI - 18+

Each piece will go into deeper warning tags, please be mindful of your consumption!

♡ Yours, Layla

Masterlist

⋆ ˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ☽ ◯ ☾ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖ ⋆

A for Aphrodisiac (18+): ~2.2k words

✧ On a quest to save your little brother, you and your fated companion Dream of the Endless, run into a small problem in Aphrodite's Temple.

B for Breeding (18+): ~1.7k words

✧ You, Swan Maiden of the Lake become King Morpheus's favorite concubine, but it's not enough.

C for Cockwarming (18+): ~770 words

✧ You and Dream come to a compromise after you asked for some "space." It never ends well for you, does it?

D for Doggy (18+): ~2.9k words

✧ How does an Endless teach you a lesson? Maybe on your hands and knees.

E for Edging (18+): ~4k words

✧ Hell hath no pettiness like a woman ignored.

F for Face Sitting (18+):

...

...

More to be added soon ❀❀❀

[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.

---

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[roguelov]

Y/N gifting Dream something small and innocent to show their appreciation for him and not thinking much of it. Dream, on the other hand, is now freaking out because their dear love has just presented them with what, in olden times, would've been considered a marriage proposal. Cue a very frantic and a very nervous Dream trying to plan a sudden wedding while Y/N just blinks at the sudden table chart that Lucienne has given them.

YEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS oh my god I love this type of shit (and I think @honeybeezgobzzzzz wrote something like this?? Or maybe my brain is making up things 😂)

Can I just say the gift could be something super sentimental or the funny thought is that it’s really just a neat rock? Either or this man hears wedding bells and starts internally panicking.

He definitely has a moment alone where he couldn’t believe you proposed to him and he begins to question his worth to you. He always struggled with relationships yet you took this massive step and he couldn’t say no, and didn’t want to say no. He wants a life with you and eventually after his panic and doubts leave he’s ready.

Now you? You are utterly clueless. All the of the Dreaming suddenly has this wild energy and people look frantic and you try to ask but you can never pin a person down until you’re in the library sitting by a window letting your thoughts wonder when Lucienne walks over with a sitting chart. Cue an awaited pause and complete confusion from you until Lucienne explains it saying ‘… I’m sorry I was given the impression you proposed to Lord Morpheus’

You: … I did what?

Another awkward conversation later you dart off to find Morpheus and straighten it all out. When you do find him, he’s in his office drafting up ideas on how the wedding should go and you have to tell him to stop.

You: Morpheus, sweetheart, I love you and please don’t take this the wrong way but that gift was just a gift it wasn’t a proposal

Morpheus blinks while his mind spirals because all those doubts return. Doubts you can see so clearly written on his face so you take his hands bringing his focus back on you

You: Morpheus I would love to marry you

Morpheus: and I would like to marry you too, my dear

You blush: and that brings me a lot of joy but perhaps we wait a bit, I don’t want to rush this let’s just put this on the back burner and we can decide everything together, okay?

Morpheus smiles almost relieved by your words. Maybe he was rushing into it.

Morpheus: I would love that

You smile and kiss his cheek: wonderful … my future husband

And Morpheus cannot deny he loves the sound of that