#dream lord x reader

[torotoro0]

Okay but- Morpheus looking at Calliope like she's a fragile person makes the butterflies in my stomach go feral.

[thebigsl33p]

Morpheus angst blurb bcs I suck at titles but love the lord of dreams and angst

reader turns i

Morpheus thinks of her. She would be his first and last mistake.

He thinks of all the beautiful songs the mortals sang for her, about her. And he thinks of the many names they gave her, how she smiled when she gazed upon them. She loved them.

She loved to be one of them, to walk amongst them in the streets and to feel their air upon her skin, the sun on her face. And he loved her.

He remembers how she would sit with him, in her realm, in amongst wine and poetry and music and they would talk until the sun went down and came back up again. How freely he smiled around her.

And he remembers the day the tides changed. When the mortals’ words became poisonous and their poems sour, their instruments placed to rest and their wine undrunk. Morpheus remembers how she would fall into his arms, sobbing “What did I do?” through gritted teeth.

And he remembers how he couldn’t answer. 

He could simply hold her, with no explanation as to why mortals turned so quickly on their deities. She never asked him to help her, instead she gave the mortals more creativity, more food and wine and poems, stories, arias. But they couldn’t see nor hear her pleading, her begging for love. Because oh, how she loved them so...

Morpheus thinks of the night on the beach; the moon reflecting off the black waters and the dot of light from a ship in the distance. He feels the wind on his skin, cold and harsh. And he recalls how she had looked him, a firm goodbye, how she had placed a hand on his face and kissed his other cheek, purposefully avoiding his lips.

And then, she had removed her shawl and shoes, placed them in his arms with a whisper of “Remember me, loved one.”, turned her back on him as she began to cry, taking shaky steps towards the sea. 

And as her feet met the water, the foam and the sand, she began to dissipate, slowly but surely, into sea foam. Morpheus simply remembers watching, helpless, her shawl and shoes in his arms as his lover disappeared into the ocean. It was as if she had tumbled in and slipped under the current. And all he could do was watch.

[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

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

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.

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

Tag List: @herfantasyworldd @shadowqueen1318

[thoughtsfromlayla]

If I Dream Hard Enough

Summary: Morpheus' daughter Elise wants you to become her mommy against every odd in the world. Will you?

Notes: ~8.1k words. Happy birthday to @givingmyhearttoyou, this is for you, you fabulous human. Also, this fic was supposed to be like 1k words long and now... well! Hope you guys like it, sorry it took so long

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, ModernAU!Dream, DaughterDad!Dream, slow burn(?), smut, P in V, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, slight angst all comfort, don't worry you guys get together in the end

Masterlist

You knew of Morpheus several months ago when he stopped at the restaurant you worked at to pick up an order for his daughter. At that time, you didn’t officially meet him, you just thanked him as he left the door as the other two waitresses did. Then for the past few months, he has been a regular, always sitting in your section right after dinner rush. You thought it was planned out by the way the two other waitresses snickered whenever they saw him there. 

You didn’t mind. He was a great customer and always left good tips and he often brought his daughter along. And while she was still young, about 7 years old since the last time you asked her, she was often a highlight of your week. Elise often brings you a wildflower she finds, growing in her garden to bring to you. Each time you accept with a smile and Morpheus is there watching. 

The day that Morpheus came in without Elise, the restaurant was dead silent. The other two waitresses had left early and you were left to defend the shack. So, you sat down with him and had a meal with him. He asked you about your life and you asked about his. You learn that his wife and he had separated after the unfortunate death of their first child and that he works as a psychiatrist for those who have trouble sleeping. He has a pet Raven named Matthew and for Halloween last year, his daughter made him dress up as a scarecrow named Mervin. 

After that conversation, the two of you grew closer as friends instead of your previous professional relationship. The first time that you met with Morpheus outside of work was when Elise invited you to watch her theater performance. She was cast as Wendy in the year’s show Peter Pan and you couldn’t have been happier to come along.

Morpheus had picked you up at 6:30 PM on the dot later that week. You wore something nice and comfortable for the early spring winds. Your heeled boots clacked against the concrete pavement as you made your way from the front door to Morpheus’s car. He was waiting for you by the passenger door, leaning against the sleek black design that matched his outfit well. 

When he saw you approaching, he smiled and offered the door for you. 

“Thank you,” You smiled as you got into the car. It smelled nicely of leather and a hint of McDonald’s french fries, probably a small lunch for Elise before her show tonight. 

“Did you have dinner yet?” Morpheus asked after he put on his seat belt. 

“No, not yet,” You say. It was a bit too early for dinner for you. Plus, you told yourself that the show would only last an hour so, you could just make something when you got home anyway. 

“Great,” Morpheus practically beams, in his nonchalant way. He places his hand on the back of your headrest and looks at you. “Elise wanted to go out tonight after her show, you should join us.”

Heat blooms across your cheeks and ears at how close he was to you. You smell his cologne and you feel like you’re going to go dizzy. But you bravely push through it. 

“Y-yeah, that sounds lovely.” You say, turning your head to look straight ahead. He looks behind you as he backs out of the driveway of your small house. 

When the two of you arrived at the school, it was surprisingly packed. Quite a few other parents were waiting in line to get a spot for their car in the limited parking lot. And luckily, Morpheus was able to find a spot near the middle. When you opened the door, Morpheus was already waiting for you on the other side, he held his arm out and offered it to you. 

“Why, thank you very much,” You smile, going along with it. The wind blew a bit harsher as the sun’s final rays disappeared from the horizon and you subconsciously huddled closer to Morpheus for a bit of extra warmth as the two of you walked toward the school entrance. 

Morpheus removes his arm from you and you frown a bit. You recover quickly, maybe he decided against it, and that’s fine. The next moment, his long wool peacoat is draped over your shoulders. The smell of him envelopes you as the warmth seems through your clothes. The warmth of your cheeks returns and you feel like you’re blushing to the highlands

“Won’t you be cold?” You ask, your hands grabbing at the opening of the coat to keep it closer to you.

“No,” He says and hands the lady a five-dollar bill for two tickets. His arm extends out again in invitation and you take it happily. 

The tickets gave you two some good seats, not too far back and not too close to the stage where you would have to crane your neck for the whole show. Before you took your seat, you took off Morpheus’ jacket and folded it in your arms. Then a lady stops the two of you in the aisle of the auditorium, right before your seats. 

“Morpheus!” She exclaims and walks towards the two of you.

“Oh, Jesus,” Morpheus mutters under his breath and hides it with a cough. “Hello, Becky.”

“Why, I haven’t seen you in years, not since my little William’s birthday those years ago.” She goes in for a hug, all-embracing and big grins. Her hoop earrings jingle with the rest of her jewelry: a big statement necklace, and bold silver bracelets on each arm. She sported a leopard print blouse and her round hips had some brown slacks to match the spots. 

Her hair had large curls, just recently blown out as she flicked it behind her shoulders. When she finally notices you, her smile drops for a brief moment before it broadens again. 

“Morpheus!” She exclaims again, her hands with fresh manicures going up like a surprised red panda. “I can’t believe you brought a girlfriend!”

“Um, she’s not-” 

Becky interrupts him and grabs onto your shoulders. “Let me take a closer look at you, sweetheart.” 

“Uh, hi,” You say as she gleams at you, looking you up and down and nodding. This was awkward. 

“You. Are. A. Gem!” She annunciates. “You know, I was beginning to worry about how long it was going to take this guy to get into a relationship again.”

“Oh… that’s…” You drift off your words, Becky was starting to make the both of you uncomfortable.  

“Let’s find out seats,” Morpheus interrupted us and you couldn’t have been more grateful. Becky nods as well before passing the two of you to sit somewhere near the back of the auditorium. Morpheus leads you with a warm hand on the small of your back. 

Eventually, the curtains draw back and the lights dim. A tiny Elise is in a makeshift nightgown and pretends to wake up from her bed. Almost immediately she spotted you in the audience and the grin she gave you made your heart clench. You give her a small wave and she waves back before remembering she had lines to deliver. 

===

You and Morpheus wait outside the school auditorium with the other parents and friends who came by to support the elementary play. You had fallen into easy conversation while waiting for Elise to get out of her costume. 

“She looked lovely tonight,” You comment, peaking over shoulders to see if she had come out yet.

“She sure does,” Morpheus says by your side and you miss the way he looks at you. When you turn to look at him again, his direction is directed forward instead. 

“Daddy!” A squealing voice giggles as it comes barreling toward the opposite of everything she embodies. Pink and glitter clashed against midnight black and pale skin. A rare smile pulls at Morpheus’ lips at her hug. 

“Hi, starlight,” He pulls Elise up until she is hoisted on his hip and her arms are securely wrapped around his neck. “Are you hungry?”

Almost comically, her stomach rumbles and she hides her face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. The two of you laugh and you place a reassuring hand on Elise’s back. After little debate, the three of you are off to some local Italian restaurant. 

After dinner, which Morpheus kindly paid for, it was well past Elise’s bedtime but the little one was as hyper as if it was only noon. The drive back to your house consisted of her talking about rehearsal, her school days, her lunch yesterday, and a project on magnets that she has to finish by next Wednesday. 

The night ended with Morpheus walking you to your door. You stared at him, the fun you had from the night still evident on your face. You find that your cheeks are starting to hurt from how much you’ve been smiling. 

“Goodnight, Morpheus,” You say, one had already on the doorknob. 

Morpheus answers a few seconds later, almost lost in thought. “Right… goodnight,” He whispers and neither of you realize the unconscious step he takes closer to you. His face leans down and you can see the complicated colors of his eyes. 

You give him one last smile before turning the doorknob, unable to break eye contact with him. Before you could enter your house though, Elise rolls down her window from the back seat and shouts at the top of her lungs. 

“Goodnight Mommy!”

Your face snaps towards her, jaw unhinge and remains gaping open at her outburst. You turn to look at Morpheus, shock still evident on your face and you are greeted with a similar expression. His shoulders raised and stiff and if he were to open his eyes anymore, they might as well have popped out of his sockets.

“Elise!” He hollered from your doorstep. “I’m so sorry.” He quickly apologizes before briskly walking down the long driveway. 

Elise giggles from her backseat and the light heart sound fades as she rolls up her window again. Morpheus stares at her through the tinted backseat window before sighing and climbing into the driver’s seat. He gives a small awkward wave before leaving your driveway for the night. 

Somewhere along the year that you had known the two, you had caught feelings for the tall brooding act. But, love is difficult and while you love the both of them dearly, it is not his love to accept if he didn’t want it. You wouldn’t blame Morpheus for not being ready for that type of relationship, even if his daughter were to think differently. You overthought to the brink of exhaustion, but time waits for no one. You had rent to pay and customers to serve. 

A couple of weeks after, it was dead again. Just one customer sitting in your section, their refilled drink in your hands. The cool night air blasted through the front door and your heart clenched in your chest when you saw the new customers. Elise stands behind Morpheus, hand holding onto his much larger one. 

When she sets her eyes on you, her eyes glimmer in excitement.

“Hi, Mommy!” She giggles and runs towards you, hugging you around your legs. 

From your peripheral, you see Morpheus sigh and your heart sinks. You adore this child, but at the end of the day, she’s not yours to adore. Your smile drops slightly at the realization. 

“I thought your dad told you not to call me that?” You say to her jokingly, even if, to you, it was no joking matter.

“Well, my daddy says that if I dream hard enough, you will become my mommy.” She states, matter of factly. Her hands release from your legs and prop themselves on her hips. She looks up at you with adoration fit for a king and a toothy smile full of braces. The confession takes the breath out of you and gives you a breath of relief in the next inhale. 

“Is that so?” With a smile, you quirk up an eyebrow and look past her small figure on Morpheus. Blush looks great on his skin, you think to yourself when you see the blood creep up his neck and over his cheeks. 

He avoids your gaze, instead finding fascination in his not-so-new shoes. Wow, they sure look like shoes tonight, he thinks to himself as he puckers his lips in deep thought. You smile at the sight, of a large daunting man turned into almost nothing by his daughter’s comment. 

You seat the two and go about your job for the rest of the night. When Morpheus was ready to leave you bring his check to him and he pulls you aside. 

“Do you have time this weekend?” He asks while taking out his credit card. 

“Yeah, I do actually. My friend canceled at the last minute on some plans we had, why?” You ask back. 

Before Morpheus could respond, Elise pops into your field of view. She stands on the booth, hands propping on the table almost spilling over her kid’s cup of lemonade. 

“Daddy has to go to a… um, conserferants. He’s going to teach other doctors about something he learned!” 

“Yes, that,” Morpheus confirms. “I will be gone for the weekend and will not return until late. Elise wants to know if you would be willing to babysit her?” 

You look between the two, Elise giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster - and it was working. 

“I will pay you, of course,” Morphes quickly adds when you don’t answer immediately. 

“Please, pleeeease?” Elise asks, she goes in for another hug, arms wrapping around your chest at her new given height, and looks at you again with a pout. “Please?”

“Oh, alright,” You can’t say no to her. Squeals fall out of her mouth as she jumps on the booth, the cheap springs squeaking underneath. 

“Here,” Morpheus says handing you a napkin with his home address on it and after a few more exchanges of pleasantries, the two were on their way. You were to be at Morpheus’s house on Friday at 3:00 PM. 

The rest of the week goes by fast, each day that brings you closer to seeing Elise again and taking care of her for the weekend has your heart pounding in your chest. What if you set the house on fire? What if you accidentally serve her a knife in her sandwich or something? These thoughts follow you until you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Morpheus’ house and a trembling finger presses the doorbell. 

When the door opens to tall, dark, and mysterious, it is quickly subdued with the aggressive cawing of a raven. Its black wings spread as it flies onto Morpheus’ shoulder and caws at you again. Confusion clouds your mind for a moment before you remember about the pet raven he mentioned a few months ago. 

“Matthew, right?” You smile and give a small wave to the bird. 

Morpheus sighs and nods. “Yes, but you need not worry about him. He will be coming with me.” 

“I’m Matthew!” It caws and your eyes go wide.

“He talks?” You unapologetically point at the bird as it stares at you with a turned head. 

“Ravens raised in captivity can learn to imitate human voices, yes. Though, I would not go as far as to brag about talking. More like… mocking.” 

He stands to the side and allows you inside. Morpheus’ house was, well, the best way to explain it was an organized chaos. Toys were everywhere, breakfast plates were still on the dining room table, and Matthew’s enrichment toys were in places you never thought a bird could drop things. That being said, the hallways were clean, the house smelled of fresh air, and the interior decoration was deliberately placed. 

Morpheus gives you a quick tour of his house, the first stop being the kitchen, everything has a place and everything is in place. The fridge and pantry were both stocked and you could immediately think of a few easy recipes to cook for you and Elise for the next few days. Next was the joined sun room, and you stared in awe at beautifully displayed stained glass. It shined a rainbow of colors over the entire wooden room. Ivy plants swung from the ceiling and sunlight covered floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in a coat of warmth. 

The rest of the tour was simple, Elise’s room which was an explosion of pink and ocean blue with Barbies and legos on the floor, and lastly Morpheus’ room. 

“You are permitted to stay in my room.” He says as he enters the space with you following closely behind. The entire room was based around a midnight blue color which you found comforting. It was neat, unlike a certain daughter’s, and has a lone suitcase sitting on the bed, already packed and ready to go. 

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” You’re quick to interject. The king-sized bed and soft duvet call your name, but it felt personal. And are you that personal with Morpheus yet? 

“I insist,” He says, hand on his suitcase and Matthew swoops down to stand on the box instead.

“No, really, I can sleep on the couch or-”

“I insist,” He repeats and it didn’t seem like much of a choice. 

“Fine, you’re very persuasive, you know?” You joke and you see his lips twitch into a smile for a moment. 

The squealing of rusty wheels and then the collective commotion of children stop your tour a bit short and the front door bursts open to giggles. You knew that laugh like the back of your hand, and you both went into the living room to greet Elise. 

“Daddy! You’re still here!” She exclaims and throws her backpack onto the couch, the shimmering glitter of princesses catching briefly on the sunlight from the large windows. 

Her hands reach up and does a grabbing motion to which Morpheus picks her up and props her on his hip. It doesn’t last long as she soon lands her eyes on you. 

“Mommy!” She squeals in excitement and starts squirming in her dad’s arms until he relinquishes her.

She barrels her way towards you and launches herself into you, giving you no choice but to grab and pick her up so she doesn’t slam into you. She’s soon holding on to your neck as you hold her and your smile grows bigger. 

“Elise,” Morpheus warns and at his sudden shift of tone, Elise buries her head into your neck, knowing that she got in trouble again for calling you that. The mood of the house sudden brought down and seemingly so did the temperature. 

You hold onto her tighter as Morpheus’ frown deepens. “Elise,” He calls out again, this time his arms folded over each other. “We’ve talked about this.”

“La, la, la, I can’t hear you,” She murmurs into your neck, holding on tighter to you. 

Morpheus sighs and comes closer, placing a hand over her back, and starts rubbing smooth circles. Wetness soon coats your skin as you realize that Elise has started crying. Her trembling shoulders and hiccups were soon to follow and you and Morpheus shared a concerned look. 

“I want a mommy,” She chokes into your shirt. “She’s my mommy…” 

Morpheus and you share a look again. His face was apologetic and worried at his daughter’s sudden confession. Children have no filter and what they say is what they mean. How can you leave her like this when she so clearly expresses what she wants?

“Okay, Elise,” You soothe as you pet her hair. “Let’s say goodbye to Daddy first and then we can grab a snack.” 

Elise peaks out from the little hidey-hole of your neck and gives a small wave to her dad which he reciprocates. Morpheus leans in close to the point where you can smell his subtle cologne and aftershave and he gives a quick peck to Elise’s hairline. 

“Be good, Elise. I’ll be back in a few days.” He says and brushes her hair away from her face to reveal red eyes and a runny nose. 

“Bye Daddy,” She says back but doesn’t find the courage to meet his eyes. 

He sighs again before going into his room to grab his suitcase. You follow him to the door, Elise still latched onto you, but now her breaths have evened out. 

Morpheus looks back when he’s just outside the door, storm clouds are rolling in and you can smell the petrichor in the late spring winds. He gives you another look of concern to which you simply nod in understanding. Matthew caws impatiently as large drops of rain start to make their descent. 

“We’ll be fine,” You say as an unconscious hand wraps around Elise again.

Silence is shared between you two, an understanding that there is going to be a heavy topic to talk about when he returns. Until then, Morpheus comes closer and wraps his long arms around the both of you and you stand there stiff. You feel the warmth of his lips press to your cheek before he pulls away. 

He doesn’t explain and instead turns away quickly to get into his car, leaving behind the shocked look on your face. The two of you stand at the entrance as you watch him pull out of his driveway. Elise waves a small hand goodbye as he disappears down the street in fog and rain. 

When Elise sees the last glimpse of her father’s car leaving the horizon she slides off of you and walks to the kitchen. She sits patiently at the kitchen table when you find her again. 

“Can I have a snack?” She asks and swings her legs back and forth. 

The sudden change in her emotions gives you a bit of a whiplash but did as she asks and made her a small snack. After which you clean up the kitchen a bit while she munches away. When she was done, she asks for some help on her weekend homework which you didn’t help much, just guided her back to the paper when her thoughts started to wander. After homework was a simple dinner of chicken parmesan and then you sent Elise off to shower. 

The rain still hadn’t let up and continues to pelt down in harsh drops against the roof. The longer it goes on the more you grow anxious. You never did well in thunderstorms, rainstorms were fine, but as soon as you heard that boom of thunder, you were nothing but a child again, hiding underneath your bed. The monsters under the bed were less scary than the bright flash of light across the sky. 

When Elise comes back out to the common areas after her shower, freshly scented with bubblegum body wash, she finds you in the sunroom. The once cozy space grew cold when the weather changed. You huddled yourself against the corner and stare out the window, absentmindedly looking at the wildflowers that grew in their backyard. Thoughts cloud your mind just like the weather outside, and just like the rain slamming against the glass, you were beating yourself over.

Morpheus seems adamant about not letting Elise call you her mother, so that means he must not want you to be her mother. Your feelings for him had bloomed into something more over the months that you had known him. You subconsciously began chewing on your nails, some odd habit that you still haven’t broken since your high school years. 

Maybe, it would be best for you to stop being friends with Morpheus. You could never ask him to make that kind of decision and instead make that decision for him. It would be easier for both of you, you told yourself - lied to yourself if you wanted to be honest. 

The tugging motion on your shirt pulls you out of your thoughts. Elise stares at you, hair still wet from her shower, and now cozy in her pajamas. 

“What are you thinking about?” She asks you and climbs into your lap. 

Your hand goes to her back to support her as she makes herself at home. 

“Adult things,” You reply vaguely, hoping that she takes the answer. She doesn’t, because of cause she doesn’t. Elise is too bright for her age.

“Is it about how daddy doesn’t like it when I call you mommy?” She questions.

A sharp inhale comes into your lungs as you stare at her. After a few silent seconds, you respond simply. “Yeah.”

A few more seconds go by.

“Do you… want to be my mommy?” She asks again.

“...Yeah, but I don’t think your dad would allow it.” You confess to her. Guilt clouds you, someone as small as her shouldn’t be in the middle of all of this. 

“I want you to be my mommy, too.” She yawns this time and her eyes begin to droop. She leans her head against your chest and her breath starts to slow. 

“I know,” You whisper and when you look at her again, her eyes are closed. You kiss her on her forehead and pet her hair. A sigh leaves you again, decisions, decisions. 

Picking up Elise carefully to not wake her, you make your way to her room and set her carefully in her bed. You tuck her in, extra tight, and turn to leave her room. 

“Mommy,” She calls out groggily.

“Yes?” You say as you turn your attention back to her, kneeling so that you are on the same level as her. 

“I think,” She yawns again. “I think daddy thinks he doesn’t deserve to have a mommy… after what happened to my brother. I think he thinks he did something bad, so he can’t have something good again.” 

Yeah, she’s too bright for her age. 

“Let’s not think about it anymore tonight,” You conclude the conversation with another forehead kiss and she falls back asleep. With one last look at her sleeping form, you leave the room, leaving the door slightly cracked, just in case. 

Your shower was just how you liked it, but your thoughts come back to haunt you in the quiet house. The thoughts follow you, nagging you, as you unpacked your clothes and stacked them on top of Morpheus’s drawer. It still hasn’t left you alone when you changed into your sleepwear and did your face routine. 

You stare at the large empty bed and sigh. It was still relatively early, only 10:00 PM, yet your bones were tired and even though Morpheus said you could use his bed, it still felt wrong. The couch was just fine, but who were you kidding? You climb into the bed and pull the blanket up to your chin. 

The bed smelled like him, the pillows smelled like him, and everything reminded you of him. Perhaps this was a mistake. Oh, but the bed was so comfortable and the rhythmic splattering of the rain lulls you to sleep before you even knew it. 

You wake up to a phone call, and the blinding light makes you squint at the notification. Morpheus was calling and your heart rate skyrockets. You answer and put the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?” You greet and even you can hear the grogginess of your voice. It made you cringe for some reason. 

“How are my girls?” He responds.

Morpheus’ voice is something else and it makes you giddy. It certainly made you feel like a teenage girl again, wanting to kick your feet and scream while running around the house. His voice was somehow better over the phone. Tired, low, and seductive almost - you could fall back asleep to it. 

“We’re doing good,” You start. “Elise has been asleep, homework’s done and all that.” You update him. “How’s your conference?”

“It’s tomorrow, so I can’t say yet.”

“Mhmm,” You reply and you feel sleep tugging at your eyes again. 

Morpheus keeps talking about his day, something about giving Matthew to another friend to look after and the drive to the next few towns over. The words go through your ears on one side and out the other as his voice lulls you to sleep. 

“Are you asleep?” You hear him say from far away. You don’t have the energy to respond. A few seconds later, on the verge of consciousness, you hear his voice again. 

“Goodnight, my dove.”

The three-tone dial is the last thing you hear before you finally release the last of your waking hours. 

The next day, the rain still hadn’t let up and you ended up driving your car into the garage so as to not have any damage done to it. Elise was bummed out as she was supposed to go to the local park with her friends from school, but for obvious reasons, it was canceled. The two of you ended up making a pillow fort in the living room and watching Barbie movies for the rest of the day. It was low maintenance and cozy and everything you’ve ever wanted, not that it would have been much different if you were home by yourself instead. 

Elise hadn’t brought up the conversation you two had last night and you were grateful for it. The insights that the kid’s little brain could understand were astounding to you. She spends the day glued to your side while singing along to the movie’s songs and eventually falls asleep mid-movie with a cold popcorn bowl in her lap. 

You carry her back into her bed just like the night before. This time watching her sleeping form for a little while longer. After which you went back to the living room to clean up. There was a tough teriyaki sauce stain that was stained onto one of the blankets in the pillow fort that you ended up just throwing into the laundry instead of trying to spot clean. While the laundry runs, you put away leftovers and cleaned up the dishes. 

After the chores are done, you find yourself in the sunroom again, finding it ironic that the two times you have used it were when the sun was away. You run your hands across the spines of the many books that Morpheus kept. Many of them were scientific journals on the mind as you would expect regarding his job. A few were fairytales for Elise and a few seemed to be picked up from local libraries or garage sales. 

You select one from random, a short novel about a princess who sets out on a quest against the Greek gods to find her missing brother. An easy enough read for tonight, you think to yourself. You find annotations from handwriting that you didn’t recognize as Elise’s or Morpheus’ and come to the conclusion that it must’ve been his ex-wife’s. A bittersweet conclusion that he kept her books all this time.

Her handwriting was beautiful and so were her thoughts. They were eye-opening, sweet, and romantic, and through her annotations, you come to love her as well. If it were a different world, you would’ve loved being her friend. 

You are on the last few chapters of the book when your eyes became droopy. You set down the book, hoping to pick it up again tomorrow morning, and head to take your shower. The warmth of the shower only solidifies your tiredness and was a great way to relax your muscles before you grudgingly climb into bed, hair still damp as it hit the pillow. 

Everything about you was tired, but that damn rainstorm just had to test its luck and turn into a thunderstorm. You lay on your side, paralyzed, pulling the blanket as high as it can over your chin without suffocating you and squeeze your eyes tight. You imagine the blanket was the arms of your deceased mother hugging you again. You think of summertime by the lakeside, flowers blooming and butterflies flying. Your father is fishing on his small boat and is trying to catch something fresh for dinner. You think of your mother in the lakeside cabin making freshly baked bread and your breathing slows. You could relive this moment every day if it only allowed you. 

You’re playing with the weeds that grow by the stairs of the cabin porch, ripping at them and releasing the earthy scent, throwing them off into the lawn when you were successful. Your palms had several thin cuts from stubborn weeds that didn’t want to be uprooted. 

The smell of rain is heavy in the air as the temperature cools drastically and storm clouds roll in. Your father tries one more time to catch something and lightning cracks amongst the horizon. The wind picks up and creates aggressive currents along the lake, rocking his boat back and forth. You hear your mother shouting at you to get inside the house as cold, fat drops of rain pierce your skin. But your eyes don’t leave your father’s boat and soon your mother joins you on the porch, hand shielding her eyes to look out. 

Lightning strikes the lake, blinding you, your mother screams and thunder booms and hearing is lost. One moment your father is on the lake and the next he isn’t. The boat is on its side before the water fills it and drowns it, too. 

Your mother moves past you in a blur and you follow quickly. The rainwater mixes with your tears, hot and cold, running down your cheeks. You scream for your father, choking as the water comes into your airway instead. Is this what your father felt as he drowned? All you saw was your mother, in her perfect summer dress that stuck to her figure double over on the dock as she screamed, the rain drowning away all of her grief. 

A terrifying boom jolts you awake into a sitting position, your heart pumping at a mile a minute. You feel sweat coat along your browline as you lay back down, the back of your hand over your forehead. You hadn’t had that dream, or more accurately, that memory in a long time. You find the courage to get up and head to the connected bathroom to splash your face with some cold water in hopes of calming yourself down. 

You are so consumed by your own thoughts, that you don’t see the tall figure standing in the middle of the bedroom. A scream crawls up your throat before another lightning bolt lights up the room, making you jump as the thunder follows. You could recognize the disheveled hair anywhere. His confused face relaxes as he realizes that you are still here. 

You swallow some air, pushing your own feelings aside for a moment. “What are you doing back so early?”

“We were sent home early in regards to the storm. It would have been too dangerous to travel the next day,” Morpheus explains. On cue, another crack of lightning follows his words. 

“Well, welcome home,” You say, hospitality gone from your system at the late hour. You grab a pillow from the bed and head out the door. 

“Where are you escaping to?” He asks.

You quirk an eyebrow, not entirely understanding the question. “The couch?” You answer with a question as if it should be obvious. He’s home so he should be using his bed. 

You think you see his jaw tick at your answer but you’re not sure due to the dark. Another strike of lightning had you stiffen and you walk out of the room without another word. You managed to lay back down with a throw blanket that was in a basket near the couch and cuddle with yourself as much as you could. The blanket didn’t provide as much warmth or heaviness as the comforter did. 

You toss and turn back and forth but no matter how you position yourself, tiredness nor comfort found you. The thunderstorm had gotten worse and after much debate with yourself, you give in with a huff. You grab the pillow and hug it to your stomach as you stand and make your way to Morpheus’ room. 

You give a quiet knock and open the door, feeling almost childish at how you are going about this. You should have gotten over your fear a long time ago and yet here you were, standing vulnerable in your pajamas, staring at Morpheus as he sits up in his bed.

Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. They’re lodged in your throat at what they’re about to say. Before you can find the courage to do so, Morpheus speaks for you.

“Are you afraid of the thunder?” He asks. 

You nod your head yes, and the grip on the pillow increases. 

“Do you want to spend the night with me?”

You nod again. 

He lifts the blanket on his side that you took the pillow from and you slip in. Warmth envelopes you immediately and you let go of a restrained breath. You turn to him and whisper your thanks as you face each other, your body deflating as stress leaves it. Silence fills the air and awkwardness follows after. Sleep is on the back of your mind and it tugs hard for rest. Your fear gets the better of you and you’re left lying awake, looking at Morpheus’ sleeping forming. His breath is rhythmic and his face is peaceful. A deafening boom of thunder jolts you and a small shriek leaves your lips. Unconsciously you snuggle closer to Morpheus and his eyes snap open. 

He feels you shaking and wraps a protective arm around your figure, one hand snaking under your neck to wrap itself around your head. He brings you closer to him as if shielding you from the raging thunderstorm outside. 

“Shhh,” He hushes as the rain pelts against the windows. “I am here.”

Your fingers are clutched to his shirt, knuckles white when he speaks to you. At another crack of lightning, you pull yourself closer to him, bracing yourself for the boom of thunder that follows. His hands cover your ears and you feel the sting of tears threatening to fall. The rain continues and after a few long minutes of only rain, you relax again. You lay in the comforts of his arms as you realize the thunder had stopped. Sleep pulls at your eyelids again and with a hiccuped breath you close your eyes. 

Morpheus’ cheat rises as he inhales before he speaks. 

“I am consumed by thoughts of you,” he confesses in the dark light of the night. Lighting cracks far away and you almost miss the confession. Is he trying to distract you? The thunder that follows isn’t as loud as your beating heart. 

He lays still with you over his chest and you hear the way his heartbeat accelerates. When the words finally, finally, register in your head you perk up and look at him. 

He opens his eyes and tears form along the bottom. “I cannot deny it anymore. Everything of me is filled with you. Your laughter, your scent, your voice. It has filled the crevices of my heart and healed the wounds of the past.”

You whisper his name, nothing else comes to mind for his confession. You sit up now and he follows after with his legs on either side of you. You cannot bear to look him in the eyes, his love for you is too strong to face head-on in the middle of the night. His fingers run across your back and you can’t deny the goosebumps that follow after. 

You feel his lips, just as warm as the first time, on your shoulders and he leans into you. He peppers kisses up your shoulder to your neck and you lean your head away to give him room. His arms snake around your waist again to hold you still, feeling the leftover tremors from the passing storm. 

“Tell me to stop and I will stop,” He promises in a whisper in your ear. 

His voice, oh so heavenly, has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “No, don’t stop,” You assure breathlessly. His hands slip under the thin fabric of your shirt and move upward, fingers featherlight and ticklish. Heat shoot straight to your cunt at his administration and your nipples perk as he runs a cold finger over them. His other hand travels lower and brushes against the rim of your shorts. 

He stops, only to continue when you whine in rebuttal and grind your ass into his front, feeling the heat and hardness of his arousal. Your heat clashes with his cold fingers as he runs them along the length of your slit. A moan escapes you at the feeling, it’s been too long since you last had a good sexual experience and your fingers are just not the same. 

His fingers part your lower lips and another runs circles around your clit. You clench around nothing, head thrown back and leaning against his shoulder as he continues. He’s stopped kissing you now, just watching your expressions trying to figure out what you enjoyed most. 

You needed more, something, anything. Before you could ask for it, he sinks a long finger in and your mouth falls lack. His hand comes to cover your mouth, muffling the wanton moans that fall out shamelessly.

“Shhh,” He hushes against your ear, sending shivers through your body again. You feel his teeth nibble at the shell of your ear, something so simple, and yet it felt so perfect. 

You feel his lips tug into a smile as your cunt clenches around his finger, to which he adds another, moving them in and out, in and out. His pace was calm, and collected, but you’re greedy. You want to bargain with him, another finger? His mouth on your cunt? How about a little bit of everything?

“Do you want more?” He asks, his voice low in timbre like the faraway thunder that rumbles. 

You nod, a small squeal leaving your lips as his fingers push up into your G-spot. You hear him groan behind you when your tongue darts out to lick his fingers that cover your mouth. He nips at the junction of your neck before he backs away. 

“Turn around for me, dove,” He directs you with a hand. 

You find yourself on your knees and you want to place your head back down on the pillows but Morpheus stops you.

“No.” He holds you up, his body flushed against your back. “Like this,” He pulls you up and holds your hand on the headboard, his fingers intertwining with yours as he keeps you there. 

His lips follow your spine, kissing down, inch by inch. His hands leave you and go to pull down your pajama pants, leaving the heat of your core bare to the cold late-night air. Your back arches as his fingers find themselves into your cunt again and you feel the wetness of your pleasure dripping down the back of your thighs. The rapture feeling makes your head dip down, but you don’t dare to let go of the headboard as Morpheus had instructed. 

Morpheus’ hand comes around your mouth again when your moans grow louder, your eyes roll to the back of your head as his fingers grow slicker and faster. You find yourself at the brink of your orgasm, cunt spasming as you clench on his fingers and your fingers gripping hard on the headboard, knuckles white, and head thrown back. Morpheus’ hand leaves your lips and gently wraps themselves across your throat, gently restricting the air that you want to breathe. White and blinding lights flash across the back of your eyelids as the searing pleasure of your orgasm shakes through your core. His fingers slow down as he helps you ride through your orgasm, leaving you panting and spent. 

You feel his lips against your ears again, whispering sweet nothings to bring you back down to earth. Your teeth are still buzzing from the orgasm when you feel something hot and hard press against your entrance. He presses forward and you feel the pressure of it, but he doesn’t enter, not yet. You’re shaking your head no, mumbling for recovery from your previous orgasm. 

“I can’t, not yet. I can’t,” You plea between pants. 

“Yes, you can, darling. I know you can,” Morpheus says. He runs the pad of his finger down your spine, making your ass perk up higher into the air from the sensation of it. “Yes. Just like that,” His praise continues. 

He sinks into you and the stretch is foreign. He’s girthy, bigger than you have taken before, but it’s not too uncomfortable. He has you panting without him even starting to move. He stays still as you squeeze your cunt around him and you’re further spurred on by his groans. Morpheus silences himself by pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, fingers intertwining with yours again on the headboard. His brows furrowed in concentration to give you time to adjust to him, but it’s hard, especially when you keep sucking him in like that. 

Morpheus only starts to move when you push back against him, taking him in another inch. 

“Fuck,” You hear him murmur in between your shoulder blades. One simple word and he has you palpable and jelly-like in his hands. 

Morpheus starts his thrusts slow, but much like how he loves, they soon become more - harder, better. Your moans go from soft to loud to muffled until he’s inserting himself over and over with such force that you’re left soundless. His power of his thrusts makes your shirt rise up until it just barely covers your breasts and the spaghetti straps fall from your shoulders. He snakes one of his hands down the sweat-dewed skin of your stomach and makes contact with your enlarged clit. 

He moans into your ear, unembarrassed when your cunt clenches harder around him when the finger pushes onto your clit. He starts to move the finger in slow circles around the nerves and your thighs start to shake. The rest of your body grows taught as his finger and cock slowly brings you to your second orgasm. 

Your mouth remains open, whines and whimpers falling out, Morpheus had long given up on keeping you quiet and only the brief remembrance that Elise was just down the hall make you bite your lips to silence yourself. Your orgasm was there again, just a little bit more and you’ll feel euphoria again. But no matter how much Morpheus keeps thrusting into you, you don’t get any closer. 

“Come for me,” He growls into your ear. 

“I can’t!” You whine out. You’re trying! Can’t he see that? You want it just as bad. 

“Yes, you can,” He huffs. His sucks a hickie on the peak of your shoulder blade and presses harder onto your clit. 

“Now,” He commands and you do. 

The snap was instantaneous and you taste blood on your tongue as your lip breaks open from the force of your bite. You feel each pulse of your orgasm rippling through you and then the sudden loss of Morpheus within you. You push your ass back into him, hoping to take him back into you. His cock instead rests between your ass checks when you feel the hot splurge of his cum splatter onto your back and the sound of your shared pants. 

You’re not entirely sure how long the high of your orgasm lasts but you come back to you laying on Morpheus’ chest except this time completely naked. 

“Did that really just happen?” You ask as sleep tugs on your eyes for the third time that night. The thunderstorm was long gone, and soft rain concludes the weekend long storm. 

A soft chuckle leaves Morpheus’ lips and it shakes your head. “Yes.” 

“What does this mean for us? For Elise?”

It takes a moment for Morpheus to answer and you think you fell back asleep. 

“It means that we can be a family, shall you want it,” Morpheus says. 

“That sounds perfect,” You smile and you know Morpheus could feel it on his chest when you do because when he speaks next, the happiness in his voice is genuine. 

“Then how about a date tomorrow, my love?”

Ngl, this was so fun to write you guys. Thank you to [redacted] on hmmm, "helping" me with the smut inspiration. If only you knew this blog existed.

Working on a couple more fics! 26 Ways of Taking You is basically going to be my own version of the NSFW Alphabet so they'll be short, porn no plot fics with our lovely Endless.

Don't be shy! Request a prompt or ask a question :D

Have a lovely day

♡ Yours, Layla

[lili-of-the-dream]

representation of me (im)patiently waiting for morpheus fanfictions to emerge after finishing the whole season in one day:

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

How to Unintentionally, Get An Endless To Marry You EXCERPT!

An excerpt from one of the 1-shots I am working on:

“Please be my husband.” You stated boldly. For a few moments silence stretched between you, and finding it uncomfortable, you spoke again. “I need you to be my husband. My mother won’t stop harassing me about getting married and I really need her off my back. She’s making me visit for the weekend and I can’t show up without…” You trailed off.

“A husband.” Morpheus finished for you, unblinking to your demand. It was a rather, simple, demand for the great debt he owed. Nonetheless he would do so to his best ability. “Very well, I shall be your husband.” The relief on your face caught the endless off guard as the stress seemed to slip free from your facial features and you physically relaxed.

“Oh thank you, thank you,” You breathed out. “You have no idea what she is like and I just need her off my back about this. She keeps trying to set me up with these mediocre guys I’ve never met before. She doesn’t understand that I don’t want or need her help in that… department…” While you trailed off, Lucienne came striding into the throne room.

“My lord, your presence is requested—” She paused mid sentence at the sight of you standing so intimately close to Morpheus. “I was not aware you had an audience, shall I return?”

“No,” Morpheus replied, his eyes not once straying from yours. “We have finished our business.” You tilted your head to the side, wondering what would happen now.

“So should I leave?” You asked, looking around in confusion. Wherever you were, was positively beautiful! But you had no idea how you had ended up there in the first place.

“That will not be necessary,” He reassured you, “I am sure you are curious about this place. It is only right that you are shown our realm.” You blinked off his word choice, thinking that he was referring to him and the lady. “Matthew, will you please introduce Y/N to the realm?

A raven popped up from behind Morpheus’ shoulder and cocked its head at you.

“Sure! Hi! I’m Matthew and Morpheus’ raven!” The bird chittered, much to your surprise. Then again, this was a dream! Dream of the Endless. You should probably try to figure out more about him.

“Uh, sounds good, lead the way,” Following the talking raven, you headed out of the throne room while Morpheus and Lucienne had a stare down you were not privy to. The moment you were out of earshot Lucienne’s eyebrow went up.

“May I ask who that was, sir?”

“My wife,” Morpheus answered simply.

“Your wife,” Lucienne repeated slowly, making sure she had heard correctly. “And when did this happen.”

“Three minutes ago.” Three minutes ago?? Lucienne was going to need to hear how exactly this came to be. Immediately.

[marvelsgirl616]

Little bread boy

[mentality-project]

Carry Me Home

Morpheus x Fem!reader

Pushing your way through the crowded bar, you welcome the brisk night air as you stumble onto the streets of London. Blowing off steam with your favourite coworkers at the end of the week had been much-needed fun, but now you were ready for home. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as your favourite scenes from the night replay in your head, your hands burying into your coat pockets to keep warm. You hum to the tune of the song stuck in your head, the crowds thinning out the closer you get to home. You notice the change in atmosphere five minutes later than you should have, the sound of a raven's caw overhead bringing you back to the present moment.

You hear them before you see them, the rowdy laughter and loud explosions of curse words giving away their position. A glance at the reflective shop front across the street tells you there's three men behind you. Fuck. It could be nothing, but even so...you'd rather not find out. Your feet pick up the pace, but despite your best efforts they sound louder. Closer.

The raven's caw pierces the night air once again, causing you to flinch but you don't stop walking until you barrel into a wall of black. Two hands grab the back of your elbows to steady you, your wide-eyed gaze snapping up to your captor. Relief floods your nervous system at the sight of the familiar stern face.

“Morphy-baby~ I need a ride! Would you be a dear and take me home?”

“You are intoxicated.”

“Maybe~”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“More than enough.” You are oblivious to the withering glare Morpheus sends towards the drunken trio of men before whisking you off to your apartment. --- "Whoa, headrush!" you giggle as you stumble in the hallway as the sand dissipates, "Don't think I'll ever get used to that." Morpheus' gentle grip on your forearms helps you still your clumsy feet, your tipsy giggles falling silent as you get lost in the galaxy of his eyes. Your lips curl up in amazement as you grip the lapels of his coat, "You have such pretty eyes, Morphy...", your smile falters as the next unfiltered thought crosses your mind, "it's not fair."

You don't notice the way he huffs through his nose, disgruntled with the unwanted nickname that has been bestowed upon him.

"You are drunk."

"Yes~ I am~!" your singsong voice is shameless.

"You should be in bed." "You're not the boss of me," you pout up at him.

The Dream Lord says your name in that hypnotic voice of his that sounds like a seduction and a warning rolled into one, and just like that, your defiance shrinks away. "But I'm not even...sleepy..." the yawns that interrupt your protest betray you. "Is that so?" Dream's eyes glint with amusement in the darkness. "Okay, okay, fine! I'll go to bed, but only if you carry me." Morpheus stares down at you while you blink up at him. You had never dared to be so petulant with him before. But then again, he had never encountered you drunk. You yelp when he scoops you up into his arms, kicking your heels off as Morpheus heads for the stairs with you in tow. He is carrying you like you're nothing.

"Oh Mylanta~ Morphy~ you're actually carrying me to bed."

"You insisted."

"Well, yeah...but I didn't think you'd actually do it." King of Dreams is silent and you wonder what's going on in there - long-suffering sigh or an internal scream. It's only when he heads for the doorway to your bedroom that you start to squirm in his arms, "Wait, wait!"

Morpheus raises his eyebrow at you, arms still wound tight around your body. You point to the bathroom. "I need the bathroom. Gotta wash my face. Sleeping in makeup is a sin."

The midnight-haired being obliges you as he carries you into the bathroom, setting you down in front of the sink before he perches on the edge of your bathtub to watch you work. You go in on your eyes and lips with a bottle of liquid remover and cotton balls, following up with some facial wipes. You frown at your reflection while you're on your fourth wipe, unable to ignore the nagging in your head that argues that since you've gotten this far, you really ought to wash your face properly. Your hands are slathered in cleansing balm before you realise that you forgot to tie up your hair.

"Hold my hair back, Morph?" Morpheus is silent as he stands behind you to oblige you, and you watch his reflection in the mirror as he smooths your hair back with both hands before gathering your locks in one hand.

"Cheers, dear." you murmur as you rub the melted balm over your face.

You rinse and repeat with cleanser before following up with moisturiser. A few moments of silence pass when you turn to face Morpheus, blinking up at him.

"I need to pee." you announce before shoving the unsuspecting Endless into the hallway and closing the door behind you.

Morpheus has no time to react and you crack the door open like an afterthought as you peer through the gap. "You're still tucking me in, right?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

The door shuts again, soon followed by the sound of the toilet flushing, then running water. The door flings open and Morpheus is greeted with the sight of you brushing your teeth. You mumble around your toothbrush, using your free hand to guide Morpheus' hand to your hair. He gets the gist, because by the time you're standing in front of the mirror, he's holding your hair in a ponytail again. He lets go as you turn to face him.

"I need a shower, but I'm too lazy."

Morpheus lifts his hand and you're captivated by the stardust that swirls around you. When it lifts, you're in your favourite sleepwear and feeling more squeaky-clean than you ever have in your life.

"Did you just -" you cut yourself off as you run your hands along your arms, through your hair and sniff the collar of your shirt, "did you just glamour magic me clean?"

"Yes."

"How amazing." your voice is hushed as you breath out.

"What was that?" you're oblivious to the amusement that tugs at Morpheus' lips.

"How amazing!" you repeat louder, looking up at Morpheus with wide eyes.

"Will you go to bed now?"

"Yes!" you grin as you put your hand on Morpheus' shoulders before you jump up to wrap your limbs around him like a koala, "I'm ready!" The huff of his breath almost sounds like laughter as his hands grip your thighs, turning on his heel to finally carry you to bed. You gasp as he sets you down and pulls the covers over you.

"Ooh, you're tucking me in~"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"I love it." you grin up at Morpheus before patting the spot next to you, "come here, Morph."

Morpheus sits next to you and you shake your head as you pull the blanket out from under him, "No, lie down. I don't want you sitting near my face. What if you fart?"

"(Y/N), I am Endless. Endless do not -"

"Lie down, please!" you smack the bed as you raise your voice, feeling quite pleased with yourself when the Dream Lord complies.

You shimmy over to his body, throwing your leg over his as you lie your head on his shoulder, curling an arm around his chest.

"This feels nice," you smile as you close your eyes.

Morpheus doesn't respond, but a few moments later you feel his hand rise from your shoulder to stroke your hair and it makes you melt into him even more.

"Ohhh...I love you." you mumble into his coat.

"What did you say?"

"I love you. Please don't stop doing that." your eyes refuse to open as you feel yourself drift further and further into sleep with each stroke.

"Sleep well, (Y/N). I will meet you in The Dreaming."

[n1ghtlux]

Lord Meowpheus, Dream of the Endless, ruler of the Nightmare realm.

He has seen seen it all. He knows.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Rainy Season - Morpheus x Reader

[Spoilers for Brief Lives I guess?]

[MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

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

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Matthew?" you ask in surprise.

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

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

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

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

"How bad is it?" you ask warily.

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

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

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

"Yeah," he answers sarcastically.

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

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

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

Miserable.

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

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

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

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

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

His gaze falls and Morpheus looks away for a moment.

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

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

"There's one more thing, Morpheus."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You mean a 'better person'?"

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

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

______

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

[torotoro0]

Random Sandman gifs.

[florencemtrash]

Flame, Shadow, Beast : Prologue

Azriel x Reader x Eris

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

Warnings: Death and mentions of torture

Comment below or message me if you'd like to be added to the taglist. Also, check out my masterlist if you would like to read my other works.

Flame, Shadow, Beast: Masterlist

Another body dropped down from the sliver of cave light that cracked through the darkness. You were like a creature of the deep sea, formless and blind after ages spent under the immense weight of the ocean above you.

But you didn’t have the luxury of being dead along the ocean floor.

No, you were pitifully still alive.

The body hit the ground a dozen feet away from you with a familiar wet crack followed by a wretched moan.

You stood up on shaky feet, one hand pressed against the stone wall to your left as you let the sound of the poor fae lead you forward. It was a male’s voice, low-pitched and gruff in their cries of pain. With the faint light available you could make out the rich scarlet tones of his hair mingling with the blood that ran through the arteries of the floor like a river through a canyon. 

“No. No… please.” The voice moaned out. 

Pity sang through your chest, a painful but reassuring reminder that you had managed to hold onto scraps of your humanity with tooth and nail. You could only imagine what stories they told of the beast beneath the mountain. The beast that killed the ones who would dare defy the High Lord of Autumn, drinking power from their veins before casting their bodies deep into the stone that traced the borders of Autumn and Winter.

The male tried to scramble away from you. His legs were broken, dragging along the floor as he heaved himself forward.

“Stop moving.” You said, your voice hoarse from lack of use.

The shuffling increased.

“I said stop.”

You finally reached him, feeling your foot press up against his and the heat of his breath warming your legs. He had managed to sit upright, one hand brandishing a rock in warning. 

You poured honey and softness into your voice, trying to calm him down.

“I won’t cause you pain. I promise.”

You reached out blindly, searching in the darkness until your fingers closed around his forearm. He weakly pulled away from you, but at the instant that you began to absorb his pain his shoulders slumped forward, all the fight within him leaving his body with a relieved exhale.

“What-what are you doing?” His words were slurred and wet. Blood trickled out the corner of his mouth.

“I’m taking your pain.” You said quietly.

Every word spoken at these depths sounded too loud to your ears, echoing off the silent stone. You winced as his pain became yours, shoving it into a deep corner of your heart where you stored all memories of this evil place.

“It’s one of my talents, if you can call it that.” 

The Autumn soldier who’d tried so hard to run away was suddenly melting into your touch, begging you to give him some reprieve. You traced the burned skin of his back with a light touch, erasing the pain like the sea could sweep away footsteps.

“You’re one of Eris’s men, aren’t you?” You asked, although you were certain you already knew the answer, “Beron sends a lot of them down here.” 

He nodded, leaning his head against your shoulder. You reached up and combed back blood-matted hair. It was short and blunt beneath your fingertips - cut with a brutal hand. The first thing Beron did was cut the hair of prisoners, robbing them of their appearance and some small measure of their beauty.

“I am.” He said.

“And how long did he hurt you for?”

The male winced, “Seven months.” His heartbeat had begun to slow in his chest now that the pain was gone.

That’s good. You thought quietly to yourself. The last male had been a prisoner for over two years. 

“I’m sorry.” You murmured, feeling his soul begin to slip away as you drained him of his pain and then his power. It was the only thing that had kept you alive all this time. That and the promise you’d made yourself that if you ever looked upon the High Lord’s face again it would be with a sword against his throat.

“Tell my High Lord…” It took him a long while to gather his strength. He swallowed thickly, “Tell Eris I never betrayed him… If you can.” 

“I will.” You promised, feeling your chest clench painfully at his display of loyalty. 

“What are you?” The male breathed out and his body went slack. 

You buried your face in your hands and began to sob.

A prisoner just like you. A soldier who was too loyal for their own good.

Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note: I always have a difficult time deciding if I'd want to be with Azriel or Eris from the ACOTAR universe. Neither character gets much screentime in the books leaving it to us readers to interpret them to our heart's content.

Around Autumn time, I especially find myself leaning towards Eris and evaluating the flaws and hypocrisy of the Inner Circle/Night Court. This angst-filled, multi-chapter fanfiction was a product of my fantasies about the characters this last month.

I've already written most of it and I am now just in the editing phase, so this project of mine will be updating every week on Wednesday evenings.

I hope you enjoy! As always, feel free to message me or comment on posts. I'm trying to be better about interacting with users on tumblr because you all seem like really cool people and I've enjoyed reading people's blogposts and fanfiction works.

Love,

Florence B.

Taglist: @nightless @mmb-09 @thesnugglingduck

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 2)

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

​GIF: Originally posted by @harleytudinous

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

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

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dream manipulation. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Plot related cigarette use. Dubious consent.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: So I know I initially billed this as a two shot but the story has run away with me in the most lovely way. Part 3 will be coming soon. Thank you for all your kind responses to part 1, it honestly means so much to me. Hope you enjoy this one too. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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

The veil of sleep comes down upon your weary body with a feather-light touch, trying to coax your mind back into the world of dreams.

Dreamscapes have been a whole new experience for you in the past month of your life. Before, you would wake with no recollection of what had played out. Not even the slightest inkling. Now, you remember everything.

They are staggering; bursting with details and ideas beyond your most outlandish daytime imaginings. The emotions that are conjured by them, both when asleep and also awake are just as bold.

And even though it's been 23 nights since it started you are still finding them predominantly jarring and disorientating. You are baffled by how other people cope with the sheer vividness. The unpredictability. Maybe they have become desensitised. You can only hope that the same will happen for you in time.

One thing you tell yourself with each sunrise:

Thank goodness they weren't nightmares.

At least, you don't think they are. There's no resemblance between yours and what you have heard others describe over the years, nor to those outlined in a dream decoding book you had checked out of the library last week. There's no obvious threat or fear. No re-living of traumatic events. Just weird subtext.

The first dream found you standing barefoot on a beach. A mirage distorted the particulars of the scene making it impossible to see further than half a meter in front of you. The temperature of the sand under your soles was verging on painful and as such, it forced you to walk into the unknown before you.

A groaning wind started to brew and lifted the sand into sparkling flurries. You shielded your eyes from the abrasive particles.

The sun was at its apex when you heard the ear splitting bangs. Unmistakably gun shots; you didn't last much longer in the dream and woke with a start.

For the next week, your dreams had been like a series of video clips edited into a supercut.

Raven wings. Black cats. Hellfire. Ruby red glow. Sprawling library shelves. Landscapes hewn by earthquake fissures. Hotel corridors. A handsome, blond haired man wearing sunglasses, holding a blood covered knife.

If you didn't know any better, you would begin to suspect that your new box of tea bags had been laced with a psychedelic. Alas, no. Your hypothesis was unequivocally disproved when you friends had been completely unaffected after stopping by for a Sunday afternoon catch up.

This quick fire of snapshots eventually stopped, transforming into lucid long form dreams. You often think back to the first one where it happened.

Standing in the the empty room, and the appearance of the figure dressed in black. The colour that had flashed in their midnight eyes had the quality of liquid silver. Sometimes you wonder if you see the same image in other dreams, standing in amongst a crowd.

From that point on, regardless of what dream you are in, you cannot shake the intuitive prickle down your spine that tells you someone is watching you.

You reason that it is nothing to be concerned about. Humans dream, and you cannot deny that some of them - swimming in a sea of clouds, re-visiting childhood haunts, trying out superpowers - have been quite fun.

You roll over on to your left side and close your eyes.

You dream.

The room you see is expansive in breadth and depth. Impressive windows bring brilliant light into the space which bounces off the ivory stone of the floors and walls. There are statues positioned at equidistant intervals, implying that the chamber is a gallery of sorts.

One effigy, fashioned from bronze, and rich in colour draws your attention. The lines and curves of its form intrigue you, despite not knowing the creature it was portraying.

You are about to move on when the feeling of being watched sparks through your skeleton.

Everything changes.

Clarity gives way to haze. Sun is swapped for moon.

You see a man across the room. He stands with a perfect posture. Graceful, powerful. His elbows are bent, fingers interlaced, palms facing upwards. Sheer black fabric floats around his frame. It moves languidly, giving glimpses of his bare body beneath.

The man's face is imperceptible. The distance between you too great but somehow you know you are the focus of his attention.

His robes fall to the floor with a gossamer sigh. The pale, unmarked skin of his slight form glows beautifully in the moonlight. You look down in embarrassment as arousal flushes through you, and you see that you are suddenly as naked as he is.

You gasp, and snap your gaze back up.

The sight you see is rather unexpected. The man is intimately touching himself.

You feel compelled to mirror him. You immediately reach between your legs. The man groans as you make contact.

All it takes is a little bit of attention on your clit before you are ready to slide two fingers into your core. The noise you make at the feeling of the stretch is salacious. The man echoes you with a sound that is just as dirty.

It spurs you on and you burrow deeper.

You curl your fingers until your legs are weak and quivering. You long to sink to your knees so you can finish in a more comfortable position yet you can't. An invisible force is preventing you.

It keeps you on display.

Just like the statues to your left.

You wonder if it is for the man's benefit.

You try to focus on him but it is impossible to do so through the trembling glaze over your eyes. All you are able to sense from him now is the sound of the rhythmic pump of his palm around his cock and his panting breaths.

Desperate whines escape your lips. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm but you can't seem to lose your balance and fall into the abyss. The unsteadiness in your legs is too much of a distraction. You rub at your clit again in the hope that it will bring the satisfaction you need.

It does nothing.

You are so frustrated by your body's disobedience that it is almost painful.

"Please. Please. Please," You mutter under your breath.

A voice suddenly speaks next to you ear. A velvet voice with the timbre of a thunder rumble. It pours like a soothing syrup into your brain and commands you to do exactly as it bids.

"Let go."

You climax intensely, crying out in relief, squirting all over your fingers and onto your hand as you legs finally give way.

The fall jolts you back into consciousness and you wake with a barely contained scream of pleasure in your throat and adrenaline lighting up your nervous system.

Daylight is peeking through a little gap in the curtains. You take a deep, grounding breath.

That was obscene.

The context, the actions, the sounds. That sultry voice at the end. From the throbbing in your vulva and the twitching of your legs it seems like you didn't just finish in the dream.

There is really no point in looking it up in the dream decoding book.

You were clearly horny on a subconscious level. Or craving attention, hence the exhibitionist behaviour. The latter is not usually in your nature to seek out but if it is the reason, you might not have to wait long before the desire is fulfilled. There is a work event happening this evening that may require you to accept an award and address the crowd.

You love this time of year where community projects get recognition; a nomination alone is a sure-fire way of garnering publicity which in turn helps the charity's outreach.

But first, a normal day at the office. You throw back the covers and go straight to the bathroom to rinse off the evidence of your wet dream.

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

Your right hand connects with the metal push plate of the function space's front door. The heels of your boots click and clack as you cross the threshold, moving from floor board to paving slab.

It's fortuitous that you brought a long, thick coat with you this evening for the wind is wintery and unforgiving. You stay close to the wall of the building to try and shelter from it as much as possible.

The pavements are slick with recent precipitation, streetlamps bouncing off of the water with caustic white light.

Then you see him; a figure cut from shadow.

He's breathing in such a laboured way that you wonder if he is sick.

Your phone is still inside the venue, currently being guarded by a colleague along with your bag but it wouldn't take long to retrieve it and call for medical assistance.

"You okay?" Concern colours the simple question.

His reply comes quickly and assertively, "I am well, thank you."

You nod, not entirely convinced for the stranger's response was as stiff as his posture, and reach inside the pocket of your coat for the box of cigarettes and lighter stashed within.

You settle one of the sticks between your lips and use your thumb to bring forth a flame. The crackle of smouldering paper and tobacco perforates the damp air and you take a needy drag. The nicotine taints and tantalises in equal measure, filling you with guilt and relief. You've been trying to give up but the little voice inside your head had won this evening. You close your eyes and focus on the pleasure it brings before flicking some ash into the tray mounted to the wall.

Your attention now back on your surroundings, the stranger steps into the scope of the streetlight. The angles of his cheekbones, jaw and nose are accentuated to an incredible extent in the gleam. His dark hair is being buffeted about the wind, locks of it very close to falling in the blue eyes that are unwaveringly trained on you. He begins to talk again, showcasing his deep baritone.

"I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you just now. It is not how I envisaged our first interaction transpiring. I hope that you can forgive me for my deception."

You laugh nervously and take another quick drag. "It makes no difference if you're honest with me or not. I don't know you."

"You are correct. You don't know me. Not yet -"

"Oh," you cut in quickly. "I'm not looking for a hook up."

While you cannot deny that he is arrestingly beautiful, you are technically working and have never been one for one-night stands.

"You mistake my meaning. I have been searching for you for so long. I oftentimes doubted your existence however I was wrong and I find myself humbled to be in your presence at last."

The grandiose declaration is one of the stranger things you have heard in your life and you used to deal with drunken patrons when you worked at a university bar. Maybe he was intoxicated; it would explain a lot.

"Look, this might work on other people but I just came out here to have a cigarette -"

It is his turn to interrupt you now. "You will have no need of those going forward. Your addiction to them will be replaced by me."

"Excuse me?"

You are trying to sound incredulous, however, inside you are rather frightened by the turn the conversation has taken. His gaze is not helping either.

The crystalline eyes are embodying every part of the descriptor; a hard, chill inducing blue. Ash drops from the smouldering cigarette as a tremble of fear rattles through you. The man sees this and the ice suddenly melts to a warmer hue.

His tone turns soft and gentle. "We are supposed to be together. Our union is fated."

He's staring at you expectantly even after your two attempts at rejection. You swiftly stub out the part-finished cigarette and take ownership in ending the interaction.

"I've had enough of this. I'm going back inside now. If you try and follow me, I will speak to the venue's management. If you are still here when I leave later, I will call the police."

You turn towards the door.

He calls your name. Your full name. Middles name too.

Despite your brain chanting at you to go inside, you can't stop yourself from looking back at him. "H-how do you know my full name?"

The profound rumble of his voice resonates deep in your ears. "I know everything about you, Y/N."

He's right in front of you now. His posture is bordering between desperate and predatory. Like he can't quite decide if he is seeking comfort from you, or if he wants to consume you.

You are fumbling behind you to find the door handle. "Please get away from me," you say hoarsely.

He reaches for your hand.

You jump back and struggle to get out of his grip but his strength is inhumanly strong. His skin of his palm is glacial against yours and yet somehow, the touch makes heat snake up your arm and settle in your chest.

You become aware of an internal feeling that you've always had, like that of chapped lips. Low level but something that constantly nags. Something that existed every minute of your life until the moment he touched you.

You grip his hand and look up at his face in astonishment.

"Good. That's it. Look into my eyes. See what you know is there."

You do as he says, totally stunned by the depths that seem to reside within them. It's as if there are universes suspended inside. Maybe there are. Perhaps you could float among the celestial bodies if you asked him to show you how.

You feel so alive and overstimulated that you welcome the delirious thoughts taking over your mind.

You welcome him.

It's like there is a cord connected between your heart and his that is shortening in length. The intensity scares you.

"Give into the pull," He urges darkly, sensing your anxiety.

You obey, feet moving of their own accord and then you are standing before him, just centimetres apart.

He smiles triumphantly and presses you flush against his body.

His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. More heat sears through you from the additional skin-on-skin contact.

Your peripheral vision closes tighter and tighter with every passing moment. The outside world is gone.

He leans in further and you wonder hazily if he is going to kiss you or break your neck. Both options are equally viable given the behaviour he has exhibited. You keep staring at him regardless.

His irises flash silver as he intones his next sentence. "Y/N, I claim you as my soulmate."

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

Taglist: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt

"Am I your dream girl? You think of me in bed. But you could never hold me. You like me better in your head."

[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.

Want to be added to my tag list for my future fics? Comment, send me a message, or a DM and I'll add you!

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

Until the next fic,

♡ Yours, Layla

[darklinsblog]

Bring Me To Life| Sandman Imagine

Summary: Y/N is part of the Burgess family, somewhat of a black sheep, when she finds the prisoner her family has kept for 90 years, your father finds a way to dispose of his own daughter. Imprisoning her with The Dream Lord.

Pairing: Morpheus x Burguess! Reader

Requested: Yes

Author’s note: Will be updating my tag list so please comment if you want in on out of it!

You were always aware you were different from your family, they were always so shallow, empty, even.

Your father was nephew of the wealthy Roderick Burgess, and if Roderick was cruel and despicable, your father Maurice was much more worse.

For starters, he had way too many children, you were clearly the one in the middle, having many responsibilities that no child should have at your age, and even when you did everything you could to earn your father’s love and acceptance, you only got hatred in return.

He genuinely hated your guts.

His words, not yours.

But still someone a part of you was holding onto hope that maybe one day he would learn to love you.

While you waited for that day to come, you did your best to blend into the background, which for the record, wasn’t hard at all with six teens running around the house screaming all day long.

By your twenties you were a master of truly “minding your shit” as your father used to tell you, one particular day, everyone had gone hunting as the only female, it was easy to leave you behind.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t bored out of your mind after a while, and then like a light switch, you remembered the house had a basement.

As any forgotten part of the house, you were told multiple times to leave it, to never even think of it, but at least the mysterious basement had to be more interesting than this empty mansion.

What you did not prepare for, was to find some… being trapped in a glass prison, he seemed like a man but something about him felt supernatural, extraordinary even.

His eyes followed even the slightest of your moves. As your fingertips merely crashed the cold surface of the glass, the eyes of the “man” opened wider, a distorted reflection of your father’s knowing figure, holding s large object, but before you could turn to face him.

All was suddenly black after a sharp pain hit the back of your neck and a buzz on your ears.

As you regained consciousness, your senses buzzed, everything somehow felt colder, lonelier, wrong…

When turning your head, you noticed the being you were staring at on the other side of the glass; only this time, he was right beside you.

Completely startled you backed away, until you met the cold surface of the bubble you were now trapped in.

You noticed more now the nakedness of the man (that is to refer to him because quite frankly, he was anything but human), which made your cheeks turn red and more than ever you appreciated your own clothes.

Tears were streaming down your face quietly and you wiped them away as soon as the left your eyes, embarrassed for this stranger to see you at your very worst.

“Morpheus”.

A voice inside your head spoke calmly but loudly, you turned to see the man beside you, empathy could be seen in his features, his hand softly grazing yours.

It had been so long since he last touched anyone, your skin felt soft and warm to the touch, it was something that now his heart longed for.

You didn’t know what it was, maybe the despair of being trapped here for God knows how long, the confusion and anger that came as to why you were here or the overall sadness.

Whatever it might’ve been, you found yourself embracing Morpheus softly by the neck, hiding your face as you sobbed lightly.

The Dream Lord was startled at first, but delicately his hands found a place in your back and to your waist he was letting you have complete control over this moment, he did not wish to touch you in any way that would make you uncomfortable.

He let you hold onto him as long and as hard as you needed to, but he knew his role there was only to contain your sadness until it went away.

“It is nice to know you, Morpheus” you whispered in his ear after a long period of sadness.

Ten long years had passed since you were trapped in the bubble prison with Morpheus, and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t developed a particular affection towards each other as well as a complex non-spoken communication between the two, he would let his voice echo your mind every now and then, but mostly, by simply looking at each other it was enough to know it all.

It hurt to think that nobody was looking for you, but then again, you would not be surprised by this, yet, a naive part of you thought maybe they were looking. Truth be told, if they were, they would’ve found you by now. After all, you were still in the same damn house.

But today something happened, Alex Burgess, your uncle, had gone down to see you two, it had been years since you saw him, but he was indeed, fragile and old, almost at the end of his days.

His eyes fell on you, you could see the sense of recognition in his gaze but quickly his eyes diverted to the King of dreams, completely disregarding your presence.

You held onto Morpheus’ arm trying to hold back on your anger as Alex Burgess went on his monologue to the King of Dreams about how he had done wrong in not wanting to be free all those years ago.

But you understood his motives as to why he didn’t chose freedom, his companion deserved that the perpetrators of her cold blooded murder paid the price.

Truth be told, it also did rub the wrong way to Morpheus how your own blood ignored you, after spending a decade by your side, he had gotten to know your very essence and in full honesty, you deserved something better than the rotten tree you were born in.

But something happened, as Alex turned his wheels to leave, the restraining runes were slightly wiped off.

You both looked at one another, acknowledging the window of opportunity you were given by the neglect of Alex.

For the first time in a decade you recognized in the eyes of the other, the almost foreign sentiment of hope, you step aside, letting Morpheus concentrate as you understood the only one who could set you free now was him.

Everything to you, seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, the cracks, the breaking, the shots fired and as Morpheus conjured some sort of vortex, he stretched out his hand for you to reach.

Going with him, was tempting, but you knew now as you stood in front of him, your journeys were very different, he had a kingdom to restore while you had to figure your own identity outside of the Burgess last name, to find if, you had any other living relatives, to find answers to all your questions.

You smiled at him, in a way which he understood it all.

“There will always be a place for you in the Dreaming Y/N Burgess” he finally spoke, after all those ages of silence, it wasn’t just a voice echoing in your brain, it was real.

You nodded, at the very edge of tears, the mixture of relief and nostalgia for this chapter of your life ending becoming all so overwhelming.

“I’ll come and find you, King of Dreams” you promised to him, the corners of his mouth lifting in the ghost of a smile.

“Till we meet again” he said taking your hand and planting a subtle kiss on it before going back to his world.

Leaving you be in yours.

But even as the chapter of your imprisonment came to and end, you knew, deep in your heart, your story with the myth in the flesh, was far from over.

Taglist: @emiemiemiii @ladyfairenvale @hungrhay @aurorarevenclaw1927 @adishax @meganmayhem89 @mrs-captainsteverogers @hb8301 @sarahbullet235 @bambooing-shenanigans @queenshelby @characterxreaderimagine @emarich7 @carolcrysis @sister-of-stars @coolsnowker @vvsdreaming @jesllianaquilesrolon @supermegapauselouca

[captainsophiestark]

To The Stars

Rhysand x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Summary: With war on the horizon, Rhys and his mate have been busier than should be possible, with almost no time to even see each other. But sometimes, to stay sane, you have to make time.

Word Count: 1,064

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I squinted at the words on the paper in front of me, trying to get them to stop blurring. My eyes burned, and my head ached, and before I knew it, I was face down on the desk.

Not the first time it had happened to me, and probably not the last. But the Night Court was basically the only court who had our shit together and stood a chance at stopping Hybern, which meant it was on me and the rest of the Inner Circle to organize what we needed to organize to save the world as we knew it. That tended to lead to a lot of exhaustion.

Even worse, it had left me no time to see my mate, Rhysand, as we were both running around like maniacs, often in different directions. His face floated across my subconscious as I fought to stay awake despite my body begging me to rest my eyes and stay down on the desk. I thought I'd finally lost the battle when I heard his voice, calling my name in his smooth, soothing voice that had come to feel like home. Then I felt his hand on my shoulder, and realized this wasn't an exhaustion-induced dream.

I groaned, slowly dragging myself back into a sitting position as I blinked at Rhys through bleary eyes. He hardly looked better than me, with dark bags under his eyes. Still, he pulled a soft smile onto his face when he looked at me.

"You look about as tired as I feel," he said, voice a little more gravelly than usual. I huffed a sigh.

"I'm absolutely exhausted. But we have to do what it takes to have a chance at winning this war."

"We do."

The silence hung between us for a moment, the massive weight we carried together resting heavily on our shoulders. Then Rhys, my wonderful mate, sighed and gave me a tired smile, running his hand along my cheek.

"Come outside with me."

I raised an eyebrow at him, but his face didn't change. I held his stare, but when his calm expression didn't crack with even a hint of what he was up to, I finally gave in with a sigh of my own.

"Fine. But only because I love you so much. If anyone else was asking me to accompany them for mysterious reasons rather than wading through these papers or sleeping, I would tell them to fuck right off."

"I'll make sure to remember how lucky I am to be met with a different response."

I snorted, at myself more than him, and he shot me a small smile as I got to my feet. He held out a hand and led me out of our bedroom and up the stairs to the roof.

"If we had even a single extra second to string together, I would've told you to close your eyes first," Rhys said, a smile in his voice from ahead of me. I raised an eyebrow, more curious than ever as he stepped out onto the roof of the Velaris townhouse and I followed after him.

Rhysand stared at me with a massive grin on his face, holding his arms out slightly on either side in a 'ta-da' gesture. I looked just past him to find a nest of blankets assembled on the roof, with glasses of sparkling wine waiting for us. A small fire roared in a firepit that hadn't been there the last time I'd checked.

"We have to rest at some point, or so I've been told by every other member of our court. And if I have to take a break, I'd much prefer to take it with you."

I smiled, none of the tiredness leaving me but most of the tension draining away. I crossed the short distance between me and my mate, wrapping my arms around him tightly and breathing in his scent. I could hear his heart beating in his chest, the soft thud mixing with the crackling fire, and for just a moment everything was right with the world.

"How did I get so lucky as to find you?" I asked, a soft smile on my face as I at last pulled back to look at Rhys. The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he leaned in until his lips were just a breath away from mine.

"I wonder the same thing, how we could be so lucky to find each other, almost every day that I walk this world," he murmured. My heart swelled, and a heartbeat later Rhys closed the distance between us. I lost myself in his embrace and his soft, tender kiss.

We stayed locked together for a few long moments, then finally, reluctantly, I pulled back. Rhys watched me like a hawk, but I just gave him a little smile.

"We'll have time for that after wine and stargazing," I promised. He sighed, playing it up a little, even as he leaned back.

"I suppose it would be a shame to let it all go to waste."

I winked and gave him one last peck on the cheek, then led him over to the pile of blankets. The two of us made ourselves comfortable, snuggling into the warmth together and staring up at the crystal clear night sky. I sighed, the light from the stars shining out through the darkness above.

"This is beautiful," I murmured. Rhys handed me a glass, which I took, my eyes never leaving the night sky above.

"It really is. It helps, to look at this. To look at Velaris. And you. To... remember what we're fighting for."

"Yeah. Yeah, it does."

I finally tore my eyes away from the starlight overhead to look at my mate, meeting his sparkling eyes. I would go to the absolute ends of the world for him, and I knew he would do the same for me. The road ahead would be hard, against Hybern and the other courts, but how could anything hope to stand against us? Especially when we had the rest of our friends behind us, too.

"To the stars who listen," he said, lifting his glass to mine with a half-smile. I returned the gesture, the soft clink of the glasses ringing out in the night.

"And the dreams that are answered."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989