#dream of the endless smut

[lis-likes-fics]

Your Delusion

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

You look so beautiful like this.

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

And you shall always be mine.

No matter what you may believe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you?” I wondered.

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

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

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

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

You tilted your head gently. “About?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As I said, I can protect you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps I could… but I shall not.

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

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

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

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

And every kingdom needs its heir.

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

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

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

And I shall give it.

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

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

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

I knew you loved me.

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

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

Oh, you are lovely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You mutter something of my name, and I smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to hear you say it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, Morpheus.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, too, my darling wife.”

Nothing can take that from us now.

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[withoutyouimsaskia]

Don't Stop (Sandman One-Shot)

​GIF: Originally posted by @imironstark

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

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

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

Word Count: 1.7k

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

Sandman Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not at present."

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

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

Morpheus calls to his friend.

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

"I suggest you do the same, sir."

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

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

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

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

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

Desire.

They are present, filling you with neediness and longing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You register this in his stance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"May I have the honour of tasting you?"

"Yes," you consent, breathless already.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Morpheus?! What are you -"

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

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

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

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

You nod.

"Verbal consent, please."

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

You gasp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 (𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬)

Pairing: Morpheus / Dream x (female) Reader

Summary: being reunited with your lover, Morpheus, after he’d been captured for nearly a century

Warnings: angst, smut, tiny bit of dry humping I guess?, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (m+f), multiple orgasms, minors DNI

A/N: here we are adding another pale emo boy to my never ending list of men I’d like to fuck lmao! title is of course from Sweet Dreams by Eurythmics! I hope you guys like this <33

p.s. this was not properly proofread bc I was in a rush to post it before I left for holiday so I’m so sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes, hopefully it’s still readable lmao

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

“Here’s here! He’s back!” Lucienne pants as she barges through your door, or what was left of it at least.

You sit upright from where you were lying on the bed.

“What?” You squeak.

“He’s back. Morpheus. He’s here. He’s back at last,” she smiles at you, elation and sadness both mixing in her eyes.

You waste no time in following her, the two of you running through the ruins of your once beautiful castle until you reached the throne room. Your breathing fast and shallow, your heart pounding ferociously in your chest.

“Morpheus!” You all but sigh in relief as you finally lay your eyes on your lover.

He was standing by his throne, one hand rested on its back, dressed in his usual dark attire. For a moment your breath hitches in your throat. For a moment it was almost as if he’d never left, as if he’d been there, where he belonged, all this time. But your reverie is quickly broken when you feel the pang in your chest, the pain as it hit you again just how long your lover had been kept from you.

“My love,” he calls back quietly, his tone as serious and calm as it ever was.

He descends the stairs slowly, making his way towards you. You didn’t have it in you to be as calm and reserved as him. You raced towards him, closing the the distance between you as quickly as you could. You almost don’t stop when you reach him, you just crash into him. Your arms fling desperately around his neck, pulling him down into you. His hands snake around your waist and pull you flush against him, his palms flattening against your body, his fingers digging into your back.

You bury your face into his chest, titling upwards to nuzzle against his neck. He buries his own face into your neck, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin, making your hair stand on end. Your hands wander up his neck, moving to run through his hair, tugging it tightly, afraid that if you let go he’d somehow disappear again. You’re so lost in the moment, of having Morpheus back in your arms, you almost completely forget about Lucienne until she clears her throat lightly.

“I’ll, er, let you have some time alone,” she murmurs.

Morpheus raises his head slightly to nod an acknowledgment at her. As soon as she’s exited the throne room you tug him down by his hair, crashing his lips against yours. You both moan desperately into the kiss as your mouth greedily devours his, as if you could somehow make up for a century of having his lips parted from yours.

You didn’t need to talk, to say anything. There were no words to comprehend this moment. Instead you let all your feelings pass to him though your lips; a century of torment parted from your lover, a century of aching for him, of feeling so empty and incomplete. ‘I missed you’ simply wasn’t enough.

You moan softly again as you push your body against his even harder, arching your back and curving yourself into him. You feel a gentle smile tug at Morpheus’ lips as his hands hold you even tighter against him. Your hands move to tug at his long coat, pushing it off his shoulders. He lets the coat slip off his body before he presses into you even harder than before, walking you back a few paces.

You gasp in surprise against his lips when you feel something hit the back of your knees. You twist your head to suddenly see a magnificently large bed placed behind you. The sheets were black silk, it’s frame made from darkest of brown woods, gothic twists and turns carved into it’s structure.

It was beautiful. It was Morpheus.

“I almost forgot how much I missed that trick,” you smirk, referring to Morpheus’ ability to manipulate everything around you in the dreamworld.

Morpheus just hums deeply against your lips, his fingers digging into your hips as he tilts you further backwards, gently lying you down on the grand bed. He moves to kneel at the edge of the mattress, pausing briefly to slip off his black t-shirt and toss it to the floor. You feel your heart flutter with a mix of pain and excitement as your eyes take in the sight of his pale torso. He looked exactly the same, exactly as you remembered him. The nostalgic familiarity of his body causes a flood of emotions to surge through you, a tear blinking in your eye.

Morpheus notices your tears as he leans down over you, positioning himself above you, his hips against yours. He shushes you gently, bringing a hand to cup your face, his thumb swiping at your fallen tears.

“Shh, I’m here now, my love. I’m here,” he whispers before kissing you gently again.

Suddenly the messy urgency of before dissipates, melting into a languid and lazy kiss, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. Your hands roam over his torso, revelling in the smooth skin you hadn’t touched for a century. You feel the soft contours of his body, the ripple of his muscles as he holds himself above you. You scratch your nails down his stomach, eliciting a deep groan from Morpheus. You stop your movement just short of the small trial of dark hairs on his lower abdomen, sliding your hands back up his body until they clasped around the back of his neck once again.

As Morpheus kisses you his body starts to slowly rut against yours. You can feel the buckle of his belt dig into your lower belly as he grinds himself on top of you. Another moan passes your lips when you feel how hard he is; his cock straining against his dark jeans and poking between your thighs. You shiver and whimper when he moves his hips further forwards, pushing against your clothed pussy, providing the tiniest amount of friction.

Your hips buck up into the movement, humping him just as fervently as he was humping you. Your back arches, your covered chest pushing against his bare one. Slowly the urgency and desperation from before starts to creep back into your kiss, into your bodies. His mouth starts to attack yours more hungrily again, his lips moving faster and more greedily against your own. Your hands tug on his hair again, silently pleading him for more. His hands run down your body, grabbing at your hips and giving them an almost painful squeeze.

“Morpheus please,” you whisper. “I need you,” you whine, pushing your hips up against his for emphasis. “I need you to fuck me.”

He groans deeply again at your words, his fingers almost trembling where they held onto your hips. His eyebrows furrow, his face twisting in contemplation, almost as if he was fighting with himself, or fighting to control himself.

“I- I want to take my time with you, love,” he murmurs against your lips.

You shake your head lightly, your nose bumping against his.

“We can take our time later. We have all the time in the world now you’re back,” your sigh against his lips. “But right now, I just want you to fuck me. Please. Please,” you plead with him.

You continue to murmur the word ‘please’ against his skin as you kiss down his jaw, along his throat. You make your way to the spot just below his ear, the one you knew always drove him absolutely wild. Once you find the spot you bite gently at his pale skin, sucking quickly to pull a bruise to the surface; you were determined to show the worlds, dreaming and waking alike, who Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams himself, really belonged to.

Morpheus grunts when you suck harshly on that sensitive spot. His hands run up your body quickly again, snagging on the hem of your shirt and hurriedly lifting it free of your body. He groans deeply when he realises you weren’t wearing a bra, his gaze burning as he takes in the sight of your perfect tits. It seems he practically has to force his gaze away as he sits up and begins to make quick work of undoing the fastenings of your jeans. You shimmy your hips, helping him as he tosses them aside. You sit up, ferociously crashing your lips against Morpheus’s again as your shaky hands fumble desperately with the fastenings of his own jeans.

But he pulls your hands away, not so gently shoving you back down onto the mattress. He looks down at you with a commanding glare in his eyes. You move to sit up again but he grabs your jaw in his hand, pushing you back yet again until you were lying hapless on the bed.

“Morph-“ you whine, cut off when he squeezes your jaw.

“I will take my time with you, my love,” his voice is a whisper and yet it holds all the command and authority of a king.

A whimper lodges in your throat as Morpheus starts to drag his hand down your body. He gives your throat a gentle squeeze before his hand is trialing down your chest, between the valley of your breasts, over your stomach, right down until he reached your navel. His gaze follows his hand, his eyes mapping your entire body as you squirm naked beneath his stare.

“I’ve missed this body,” he muses to himself, his eyes glazed, drunk on the sight of you. His eyes snap back up to yours before he adds; “I’ve missed you.”

He looks at you with such an intense and sad gaze that you feel your heart twinge again, a tear pricking your eye. You take one of your hands and place it over his where it still rested on your lower abdomen.

“I’ve missed you too,” you squeak, giving his hand a squeeze.

He flashes a soft smile, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips so that he could place a chaste kiss to your knuckles. Your heart twists at the gesture; it was something he used to do frequently before he’d disappeared. He bumps his nose against your knuckles before gently placing your hand back on your stomach. His small smile twists into a smirk when he finally leans forwards again, hovering over you. His lips land on your chest and begin following the same trail he’d just made with his hand.

You shiver as he kisses down your body, his lips somehow cold and yet burning like fire as they sear down onto your skin. You bite your lip as you look down at him, his eyes trained on yours even as he kisses lower and lower down your body.

When he finally reaches the apex of your thighs he first places a gentle kiss to your pussy lips. His hands move to tuck under your thighs, helping to hold you open. He flashes you that tiny beautiful smirk again before he finally licks a stripe up through your folds. You shiver at the sensation, throwing your head back immediately. It was almost outrageous how just the lightest of touches was already driving you wild; you are simply just horrendously desperate for your lover’s touch. And he was more than happy to oblige.

Morpheus licks through your folds a few more times, spreading a mixture of your arousal and his saliva all through your slit. A strained profanity slips past your lips when he finally starts to focus his attention on your clit. He sucks it into his mouth, his tongue swirling it languidly. Your hips buck, your body jerking under his touch as the feeling almost overwhelms you. You swear you can still feel his smirk as he brings one of his hands from under your thighs, moving it to splay across your lower belly again, pushing you down and pinning your hips to the mattress. You whine, a sound somewhere between frustration and pleasure.

“Mmm, I’ve missed your taste,” he groans against your cunt. “You always taste so exquisite. Just heavenly,” he hums.

You whimper, his name falling from your lips in a sinful moan. He reciprocates your moan, the noise vibrating through to your clit as he sucks it back into his mouth. Pleasure sears through your body, a fire inside that you’d not felt for over a century. Your head almost feels dizzy, your breathing shallow and fast, your skin tingling, your fingers and toes almost going numb as all feeling is focused in your core.

“M-Moprheus,” you whine, twisting your head to hide in the sheets, almost embarrassed by how quickly your orgasm was building.

Your thighs tremble and shake on either side of his head, your toes curling and pushing against his shoulders. He moans against you again as he feel you start to buck your hips more fervently against his face. He glances up at you and sees how you’ve twisted to cover your face, hiding the heat in your cheeks as your body surged closer and closer towards your climax.

“It’s okay, my love, just let go. I want you to let go,” he whispers gently.

You mewl, your fingers knotting harshly in his hair, your back arching and your neck twisting even further away from his stare.

“Look at me, lover, please. I want to see your face,” he pleads quietly. “I need to see how good I make you feel.”

Though he may be pleading there’s still that edge of command in his tone that lets you know it wasn’t really a request and there really wasn’t any room for arguing. You bite your quivering bottom lip as you slowly lift your head to look at him. You moan lewdly as you catch the sight of him between your thighs. His gentle blue eyes are somehow dark with lust, his hair even messier than usual from where your fingers were gripping it. You can just about see, as well as feel, the smirk on his lips as he keeps his tongue swirling over your clit, sucking softly at the same time. The sight and sensation of it all is finally enough to tip you over the edge.

“O-oh, fuck,” you barely manage to choke out as pleasure races through your entire body, spreading from your core right into the tips of your fingers and your toes.

You fight the urge to toss your head back and arch your spine as you desperately try to keep your eyes on his. You feel his smirk grow into a small grin of pride as he continues to just lightly suck on your clit, enough to prolong your orgasm without making you go too sensitive. When your body has finally given every ounce of pleasure it had to offer, for the moment anyway, he removes his mouth from your cunt and starts kissing your inner thighs again lightly.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs lowly against your skin, placing another kiss to your thigh. “You did so well for me,” he praises gently.

You slump back against the mattress again, your chest rising and falling heavily as you try to catch your breath. Morpheus just continues to kiss all over your thighs as he gives you a moment to recover, occasionally biting and sucking a hickey into your skin. Feeling the wetness of your euphoria on his chin and lips as he kisses over your skin feels deliciously filthy.

His hands stroke the back of your thighs and your ass, grazing over your hips, causing goosebumps to raise on your flesh, a shiver running through your whole body. Your hands loosen their grip on his hair, instead just stroking his head lightly as you try to relax and just revel in the feeling of being with your lover once again.

But it’s not long before you start to feel the ache build in your core again, your cunt clenching desperately over nothing as Morpheus kisses tantalisingly close to your pussy.

“Please,” you beg quietly, your head lulling to the side again. “Please Morpheus, I need you inside me,” you almost cry, your voice pitching in tone.

“Shhh,” he kisses the inside of your thigh. “All in good time, my love,” he promises.

He continues to kiss at your thighs for a short while before you feel one of fingers gently brush through your folds. You mewl at the feeling, at the promise of more. He swipes his finger through your slit, gathering the wet mixture of his spit and your cum. It’s like fireworks explode in your chest when you finally feel his finger push into you, slowly and gently stretching you open. You swear your body was about to combust when he’s quickly able to add another finger, your wetness making it all too easy for him to pump his two fingers in and out of you.

Your fingers knot tighter in his hair, yanking hard as he starts to curl his fingers, searching for that sweet spot inside you. He hums in satisfaction, kissing your thigh again when he hears a squeaky moan lodge in your throat, knowing he’d found the right spot.

“O-oh fuck. Yes...” you whisper with a shaky breath as he adds his mouth back into the mix, his tongue smothering over your clit again.

He curls his fingers in time with his tongue, stroking your sweet spot with the pads of his fingers as his tongue swirls circles around your swollen clit. Your body feels impossibly hot, the pleasure making you feel tingly as it races through you. Your orgasm builds even faster than before, rushing to the surface and breaking over your body. You can barely moan Morpheus’ name as he pumps and sucks you through your second high. You convulse and shake, your body almost twitching from the pleasure, your pussy clamping over his fingers as he slowly continues to curl them against that spot inside you.

Morpheus hums in satisfaction again as he steadily slows down his movements, slowly bringing you down from your high. He sits up, his eyes never leaving yours, before he gently pulls his fingers free from you. You gasp at the loss of contact but the sound quickly develops into a full blown moan when you see Morpheus bring his two fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean of your juices as he continues to stare you down.

You can’t wait any more; you needed this man to fuck you.

You didn’t even care how sensitive you were from your first two orgasms. You sit up and grab him by the back of his neck, yanking him harshly down until his lips collided with yours. Another moan escapes you as you taste yourself in his mouth, the tang of your arousal coating his tongue as it roamed over yours. You pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, arching your back and pushing your chest up against his, your perked nipples brushing against his skin.

Morpheus groans into the kiss as his body starts to move against yours, his still clothed hips slotting between yours. The tent in his dark jeans rubs against your pussy and sends a flare of euphoria through you again.

But it still just wasn’t enough.

Your fingers quiver as they fumble once again with the fastenings of his jeans; only this time he doesn’t move to stop you. You moan greedily into the kiss, your lips moving with an even more urgent hunger against his as you start to push his jeans and boxers down his hips. He breaks the kiss briefly as he shifts to remove his jeans completely, throwing them to join the rest of your clothes somewhere on the floor.

The sound that leaves your throat when you’re finally able to take in the glory of his naked body is almost indescribable. He was just so painstakingly beautiful it genuinely made your chest ache. You can’t bring yourself to wait any longer as you reach forwards to grab his glorious cock in your hand. You swipe your thumb over his red and swollen tip, gathering the pre-cum and swirling it around his head. Morpheus all but shudders as you do so, his eyes fluttering as he tries to keep himself under control.

You’re just about to start stroking him properly when his hand clamps over your wrist, giving a quick but firm shake of his head. You release his cock as he gently guides you to lie back on the bed, his body crawling over yours. His nose bumps yours as he gives you a desperate and messy kiss before you feel the wet and warm tip of his cock nudge against your folds. Your fingers curl and dig into his shoulders as you desperately try to pull him against you.

Morpheus grabs his cock and helps guide it through your slit, gathering the mixture of his spit and your cum and coating himself with it. Then, at long last, you finally feel him start to push inside you. A whimper escapes traitorously past your lips as you feel the dull ache of him stretching you open. You could feel just how tight you were around him as he slowly pushes himself into you, slowly slotting himself to the hilt, until you could feel his hips flush against yours again.

You feel the light tremor in Morpheus’ body, the slight tremble in his arms as he holds himself above you. His eyes close and his face twists with pleasure, and with concentration, as if he was pouring all of his focus into not cumming almost immediately at the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him after a century apart. His head hangs low, his fringe ticking your forehead as he pauses there for a moment, giving you a second to adjust, or giving himself a moment to gather himself before he loses himself completely to the feeling of you.

He takes a deep shuddering breath, searching your face. You nod quickly, bucking your hips again as you silently give him permission to move. He nods shortly himself before he obliges your request from the beginning and slowly but surely starts to fuck himself into you.

He’s barely started to move and already you can feel fireworks explode throughout your body. Your hips buck to meet his, your tits pushing up against his chest, your nails tearing at the skin of his shoulders. He shudders and groans as he feels you pulse around him, hugging his cock impossibly tight.

“Oh, my love, I’ve missed how good you feel,” he whispers with a deep groan, “how tight and perfect you are for me.”

HIs voice is so quiet, almost as if he’s rambling more to himself than to you. You can feel his breath tickling your face as he hovers just above you. His one hand holds himself up, resting just next to your head. His other travels across your waist, caressing the soft curves of your body. That same hand trails higher up your body, grazing the side of your breast until he reaches the apex of your arm.

You shiver, more goosebumps beginning to litter your skin as his fingers dance back down your arm. You mewl softly when his hand reaches yours, dancing over your palm until his fingers interlock with your own. He gives your hand a quick squeeze before he lifts it above your head, pinning it to the mattress behind you.

His name escapes your lips in a plea as he squeezes your hand again. At the same time he begins to speed up his thrusts. His pace is still relatively slow and steady; he puts all his effort is focused on trusting deep inside you, the tip of his cock brushing that spot inside you with each snap of his hips. With each thrust another cacophony of moans fly from your lips.

“I think most of all,” he continues through his shaky breathing, “I’ve missed the sounds you make. The way my name falls from your lips,” he pants hotly, his breath fanning over your face. “You are divine,” he groans through gritted teeth, “like the sweetest dream there ever was.”

You moan his name again as you feel your body coil again, the fire burning and building in your core with each brush of his cock inside you. Morpheus pushes his forehead down against your own, his nose bumping against yours as his own moans start to increase in frequency. You almost smile as you feel a small jolt of joy swell in your chest. His moans grow higher in pitch and you knew it was his telltale sign that he was close to finishing himself.

But you also knew he never let himself finish first. And, as you expected, as he always used to do, he brings his hand, the one not holding onto yours, down between your bodies. His fingers find your clit quickly, wasting no time in circling it with expert precision.

His eyes search yours desperately, a century of unspoken emotions passing between the two of you. You knew there were no words to describe how you both felt. No amount of letters would ever be able to encapsulate the enormity of torment that had been your time apart.

Instead you just let your bodies do the talking. The glaze of tears in his eyes letting you know how much he loved you. The hunger of his lips when they moved with yours showing you much he missed you. The tight grip on your hand signalling that he would never let you go; a silent promise that you’d never be parted again.

You lose yourself in the moment. Nothing else exists other than here and now. You pay no mind to the crumbling castle around you, the vast and empty space that stretches on forever. All you see, all you feel, is Morpheus. Your senses are clouded and overwhelmed by him. The sight his ethereal blue eyes boring into yours. The smell of him, light and clean, refreshing and comforting. The feeling of his smooth skin under your palms are you claw at his back. The wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. The gentle sounds of his heavy breathing and soft groans in your ear.

“Morpheus, I- I’m close,” you breathe, nudging your nose up against his.

He nods lightly; “let go for me, baby.”

You whimper, something akin to a sob, when you hear him call you ‘baby’. He hardly ever called you that despite knowing how much you actually loved it. The pet name, his fingers circling your clit, and another deep thrust of his cock inside you, finally work to tip you over the edge once again.

This climax was different to the others; it was more intense but not in a way that felt overwhelming or too much. It was just the prefect amount of pleasure and you swear your vision goes blurry as you reel from the sensation. Your eyes roll back slightly, your head lulling onto the pillow, your jaw going slack as your mouth hangs open in a silent O.

“Oh how I’ve missed that view; how beautiful you are when you fall apart for me,” Morpheus groans lowly as he keeps fucking into you slowly.

His hips jut raggedly against yours, his pace faltering and his thrusts turning sloppy as he fucks himself towards his own climax. You paw at his back with your free hand desperately as you encourage him to let go. You slide your hand up his neck and fist his dark hair again, pulling tightly in the way you knew he liked. And it worked, as not a second later his hips still completely as he lurches deeply against you, finally climaxing himself.

He pants shakily, deep groans falling from his parted lips as his cock twitches inside you. You sigh his name contently as you feel the warmth of his release flood inside you. His hand shakes where it still holds onto your own. His other hand had moved to squeeze your hip as he slowly rocks you both through the remnants of your highs.

The two of you just stare at each other for a second, the both of you trying to make this moment last for a century, as if this could make up for the century spent apart.

Morpheus smiles gently down at you, his hand moving from your hip to palm your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. You reach up to cup his face in return, your fingers softly tracing over his features. His eyebrows furrow when he sees a slight sadness behind your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly, twisting his face to place a gentle kiss to your palm.

“It’s nothing,” you shake your head slightly.

You sigh defeatedly before explaining further, warmth rising to your cheeks with a slight embarrassment.

“I want to say 'I love you', but the words seem somehow so small and insignificant, like they’d never be big enough to capture how I actually feel,” you whisper.

Morpheus just smiles gently, leaning down until his lips connected with yours in a gentle kiss. You both smile softly into the kiss when you feel the silent message pass from his lips to yours.

Perhaps words would never be enough to encapsulate how you felt about each other. But it didn’t matter. You could feel it in your heart. And, somehow, you just knew that he could feel it in his heart too.

Masterlist

A/N: just gonna tag my babies @mothdruid and @siempre-bucky as well bc I know how much they love this pale emo too!! I really hope you all liked this <33

p.s this will be my final fic for a short while as I’ll be away on holiday and taking a short hiatus from Friday onwards!

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

[darlingdekarios]

reverie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

masterlist.

[just-some-random-blogger]

hello, can i request

the reader is getting frustrated because she is having trouble coming, so she tries to fake it. Morpheus figures out what she's trying to do because he knows how her pussy feels when she's tight around him, so he gets mad and stops, leaving her wanting for the next few days....then when he finally gives in , is she sharpened all night as punishment? I hope this makes some kind of sense.

Good Thing

Dream of the Endless x Reader

Summary: Lord Morpheus does not appreciate you faking it and your sweet dream turns into a nightmare.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: fem!reader, petty!dream, MDNI, smut (pwp, free use, overstimulation, dom/sub dynamics, light sadism, vaginal penetration, edging, temperature play, cunninglingus), typos, etc.

A/N: this has been in my drafts for ages T_T me so sorry. but ya know nonnie, what was so wild, when you sent this i was reading an aemond targaryen fic with he exact same prompt i was sent into orbit Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

I squirm as I am hoisted on his lap. I feel Dream's hot breath on my neck. My flesh was spilling between his fingers as he kneaded them. My hands were shaking as they latched around his neck.

He felt good. He felt so good-- he really did. But I was exhausted.

Dream brushes his nose against me, palms by the curve of my hips as he maneuvered me in sync with his movements. He snapped into me with a need that could not be quelled. His thighs and abdomen were hot and sticky with my slick. My whole body was burning with sweat and remnants of the multiple orgasms he's left me, he's left in me. He mutters against my ear, his deep voice making my shaky one even more unstable, "one more, my love."

One more.

But see, he's been saying this for hours.

And when I say hours, I mean there's no sense of time in the Dreaming, and he's taken fuck me to oblivion way to fuckin' seriously. And yet -

"I assure you," he crooned as he clutched the back of my head when it got too heavy for me to keep up, "my sister will not touch you. I will not let her take what's mine. She will not come near you," he sucks on my skin, "not when I have you in such a servile state."

Fuck me.

And he did.

And he was.

Still is.

My head rested on his shoulder. My body jolted with each of his thrusts. I felt my eyes water all over again, and now even my mouth was crying. I dribble on his skin as I whine, "D-Dream."

"Shhh," he kisses my head, "let me relax," he holds me firm in my place, "we have an arrangement, don't we? You want me to do this, don't you?"

I whimper when his thumb rubs on my oversensitive nub, "p-please-"

"I know," he tuts, "I know," he purrs, claiming my mouth with his, "just one more. Can you not give your beloved king one more sweet orgasm? Don't you want me to relax, darling? You said you'd let me do anything I want-"

"Dream-"

He sits up straighter, "and I want to feel you take pleasure in my love making."

A tired cry leaves my mouth.

"I need you to feel how much I love you, my jewel," he licks my neck and nips on my skin, "one more time."

"B-but you've been s-saying that-- for hours," I feel tears streak my cheeks.

He nods and licks my tears, "I swear to you, my love," his fingers dig into my flesh, "one last rupture is all I will ask of you now."

"Promise?" I blurt desperately.

Dream peppers kisses on my neck, "you have my word."

And fair enough, fair enough, he did promise me relief after. The words of an Endless were not fickle and I should have trusted in him. I mean I did! I do! But my mortal body could only take so much and so, I did what I had to do.

I faked it.

I faked it and immediately he stopped.

Thank. Goodness.

At least... it was a thank goodness in that moment.

I caught my breath as I melted like putty on him, allowing my body to bathe in its exhaustion though I did not feel pleasure from the squirming show I just put on.

Dream's hold on me relaxes. His hands come to my thighs as he adjusted me on him.

"T-thank you," I mutter.

"What was that?"

I heave as I look at him, "I said t-"

"You did not finish," he cuts, one hand coming to my back to keep me in place as he pulled back to scowl at me.

My silence proved me guilty. My stutter decided my sentence.

Dream's nostril flare and his jaw hardens, "hmmm." He reaches out for my face and pushes back my sweat soaked hair, "did you think I would not realize?"

I squeak when he pulls me off him and sets me down on his side. I fidget as I feel the cushion of the bed on my swollen, dampened thighs. I reposition myself uncomfortably as he leans on his knees and sighs.

"Dream-"

"I will not forget this."

"... w-what?"

Dream turns to me, eyes darker than normal, face tense and clearly irritated, "you will learn not to resort to trickery with me, insolent girl."

Well, fuck. "My love-"

I don't get to speak as he stands and eyes me in disdain, "if you do not want me to touch you-"

"I didn't say I don't want you to touch-"

"-then I shall have my leave and keep my hands to myself."

I sigh in frustration as I watch him walk away from me. I crumble on the bed and slam my head on the sheets. I look up and see he's already by the door, his clothing already manifested on him, "Dream. Dream, please-"

Dream reaches for the knob and slams the door shut on his way out.

For the next week, the whole Dreaming would be walking on eggshells around their king and it was all my doing.

A harsh winter fell on the Dreaming. Everyone was fighting for their life in the cold and I could no longer let them suffer because of my unintended offence and his exaggerated pettiness.

I manage to get Mervyn make Dream go to the throne room.

The throne room echoes, "so, you've resorted to trickery once more, brat."

I turn over my shoulder and jolt when I see Dream already looming over me. I clutch my chest as I look up at him, "don't be ridiculous. Am I not guest who can ask for the attention of the king?"

"No," he rebuts.

The windows of the throne room begin to get battered by hail. I flinch when a large, icy stone breaks through the glass. I turn to the thing on the floor, back to the being that was the reason why there was an eternal frost, "Dream, please-"

"So, I do not please you?" his voice reverberates through my rib cage as his form is obscured and grows larger.

My heart races as I reach out and try to touch him. My hands go through his form and I whimper, "my love."

He growls.

I gasp when his icy hand takes my cheek.

"You have offended me beyond reparation."

I flinch at his touch. Cold begins to creep up on me. I bite back the quip lingering on my tongue. How dramatic of him.

I try to reach out to him again and this time, he lets me touch him. I feel something like shoulders and I pull on him, "puppy, please-"

"Do not insult me," he barks, face coming into view as he looks down on me, "I've had enough of you."

A shiver runs down my spine.

His hand dig into the roots of my hair. He pulls my locks back and tilts my head up, "so..." he inhales deeply, "how shall I get retribution? What will you to to appease me?"

My pulse quickens. I bite my lip, "anything."

He scoffs, "and have you trick me again?"

"I -" I shudder when he circles around me, "I promise I won't complain. I'll be a good girl."

"I do not believe you," he leans into my neck from behind, "insect."

Goosebumps form on my skin, "Dream-"

He places a hand on my mouth, "silence."

I squeal into his hand and do my best not to squirm at the ice cold of his palm now scouring my body. He breathes against my skin and I flinch at the cold.

"Oh," he mocks, hand coming off my mouth, "are you cold, my love?"

I suck in a sharp breath, "y-yes."

He hums and kisses my jaw. His lips are ice cold, "my poor girl."

I flinch when his hands trace upward underneath my shirt, "perhaps removing your clothes will help you," he pulls my top off, "don't you agree?"

I shiver and pant at the notion.

"Well?" he coaxes.

I find myself nodding, "y-yes."

Dream kisses my cheek repeatedly, "very good."

He turns me around and begins to strip me naked. I begin to shiver more violently when I'm left bare. I feel my nose begin to clog.

Fuck, I'm going to die.

"D-D-Dream," I shudder, "I'm fre-eezing."

He pulls me into his chest. He is an icicle. He caresses my cheeks, "shhh," he leans in and kisses me, "you're mine. Nothing else will touch you but me," he lifts me up, "isn't that right?"

"R-r-r-r-ight," I wrap my legs around him.

I let out a hiss when I am upon a cold surface. I realize then that I was sat on his throne.

I continue to shiver as he pulls away and looks down on me. He tilts his head as snow begins to powder the room, "you will not touch me," he bends down, "am I understood?"

I nod quickly as I watch him drop to his knees.

He sighs, steam wafting up from his lips, "good girl."

I hiss, nails digging into the armrest, when his suddenly hot fingers touch my shaking knees and part them, "sweet Mary- fuck-"

He snorts, steam coming out of his nostrils, "you will not say any other name but mine."

I pant heavily as he takes my legs and throw them over his shoulder. I whine and so badly want to grab at him when I feel how warm he is. I lean into him and cry out when his mouth connects with my freezing skin. My belly quakes for multiple reasons when his large hand rubs my skin. My nails scrape the wood on the armrest. I scream his name out helplessly.

He sighs in satisfaction. I hear him in my head: very good.

I screw my eyes shut and rut into him, "please let me touch you."

"Never," he rather instantaneously retorts.

It continues like this. I tremble at his ministrations while snow continues to build all over the throne room, save for the area around him.

"Fuck," I shake off snow from my shoulder. I flinch when I feel his tongue working on me. I could barely feel my fingers though my lower half was warm, "p-please, my hands-"

My cries fall deaf on his ears.

It continues like this up until my voice is hoarse and my calves are shaking at the feel of him eating me up.

"F-fu- D-Dream-"

"Mmm," he finally looks up at me, face wet with slick and saliva.

Fuck, I hate him but he was so pretty. "P-please- m-my hands," I shudder."

I could see the warmth radiating off him, "what of your hands, little bug?"

"T-they're so cold-"

I whimper when he takes my hands and places them on his cheeks, "better?"

I nod, "thank y-you."

Dream smiles softly, placing a burning kiss on the inside of my thigh, "good girl."

My belly spasms when I feel his hot breath on my core again, "tell me. Will my beautiful toy trick her master again?"

I let out a overwhelmed sound when he slowly sinks his teeth into my aching core. I arch my back and dig my fingers in his hair, pulling firmly. My toes curl as I whimper, "n-no."

He hums against me. It makes me squeal.

He takes my legs and pushes me back, hanging my legs on the armrest, "you swear it to me?"

I whimper when he pulls away from my thighs and rises to his feet to kiss me. I bring him close and relish the feel of his warmth, "yes," I sink my face into his neck and rub my cheek on his skin, "yes! I swear, I swear-"

"Mmm," he places his arms around me, "I believe you."

Dream rubs his hands down my shoulders then my thighs and pulls back.

I look up at him as snowflakes fall onto his hair and lashes. He smiles at me then rubs my cheek with his warm hand, "best find your clothes in the snow, my love. It would be unfortunate if you caught a cold."

"W-What?"

With that, he retreats and wraps his coat around himself.

I shiver and watch my breath condense in the air Dream walks off, treading easily through the snow.

When I realize what was happening, I curl into myself and feel my body shake. Was it the cold? Anger? Betrayal? Who knew.

"Come quick, pretty girl. I will prepare a cup of tea for you in the kitchen," he calls over his shoulder, licking his lips as he heads for the door.

I hiss when I attempt to step into the snow. I whimper and look up as I clutch my chest, "you're not seriously leaving me? Dream?! DREAM!"

[morpheusbaby3]

Morpheus telling Lucienne about the problems he has been through:

[pavlovianfuckery]

i have abandonment issues and anxiety and now so do you

just my brain going "but what if dream is a complete banana lady about time because he values it differently from everybody else and gets absorbed in his work and fucks off for months on end like a big fucking idiot, what then?"

also he is so very pretty when he cries and i wanted another go at writing some quick stair sex, fucking sue me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i was so sleep deprived when writing this and it shows but what can you do

It's been weeks since you slept unaided, the use of pills keeping any dreams at bay, so when you finally enter the Dreaming only to find yourself in the throne room of all places, it gives you pause. Everything looks much the same as you remember. When you finally lay eyes on the aloof figure on the throne it feels like being kicked in the chest, which is less unexpected. You had imagined what it would be like to see him again many times, but nothing you had planned to say comes out, the words turning to ash in your mouth.

"Leave us." His gaze is fixed on you as he orders everyone out, and it feels as if an eternity passes between the closing of the massive doors and him speaking to you. "Do you know why I have brought you here?" Just hearing his voice again is painful, but you refuse to let it show, squaring your shoulders but not meeting his eyes, not bothering to keep your tone civil.

"I do not presume to know why you would do anything, so no, I don't." The glibness doesn't seem to amuse him, and he steps down from the throne. "That is not quite true, is it?" His voice is flat as he approaches you unhurriedly, step by inexorable step.   "If accusing me of being a liar is all you dragged me here for, I'm just going to go." You turn to go, to wake up, to be anywhere but here, but he calls out to you. "Stop." You were planning on leaving, and yet. And yet.

"Why?" You whirl around, facing him. It's a struggle to keep your voice from cracking, but you manage it, somehow. "You don't want me here." He frowns, moving closer until he's only a few paces away. "I assure you, that is not true, despite your lack of loyalty." "What in the world is that even supposed to mean?" Now you can't keep the anger out of your voice, "Since when have I ever been disloyal to you?" "Since you abandoned me to cavort with a mortal." The words are full of contempt, and it almost makes you physically recoil. "I abandoned you?" It comes out as a disbelieving laugh, more callous than you had intended. "No, you left, without so much as a word. I didn't hear from you for 6 months! I don't know if you had gotten bored of me or what, but you were gone."

"Bored?" His frown deepens. "There were matters of great import that required my attention." "Of course there were."  You had always been painfully aware of your own unimportance to a being like him right from the start but nevertheless, his words still hurt. "What did you expect me to do then, spend the rest of my life waiting for you? I didn't even know if you were coming back at all."

"You certainly wasted no time before giving yourself to another." "Did you miss the part where you up and left me for months? Not that it's any of your business anymore but yes, I slept with someone else, to try and get over you forgetting me!" "I did not forget you." Somehow, the words make it worse. "Yeah? Because that's what it looked like." Your eyes sting and you wipe at them angrily.

He's frozen, unmoving at the bottom of the steps. Bathed in the soft light from the stained glass windows he reminds you of a marble statue. Beautiful. Cold. It cuts at you like a knife until you can't stand to look at him any longer, and you turn to leave again. The way his fingers snag your wrist takes you by surprise, not expecting him to reach out. "Wait." "I did." You yank your arm back, but he grabs hold. The touch is gentle, but it might as well have been a firebrand. "Let. Go." For all their vehemence the words feel like a lie on your tongue, and as you glare at him it's obvious that he doesn't believe them either because his grip only tightens. The way he looks at you hurts, it burns and something inside your chest just shatters.

The slap is loud in the empty room, neither of you expecting it. Even though your palm tingles from the open-handed strike there isn't a mark on him of course, but that doesn't make you feel any better. When he pulls you to him, most of the fight drains out of you. "You don't get to do this, you know," you punch his chest weakly, just once as the first tears start to fall. "You can't just dump me by the wayside when you get tired of me, I'm not your fucking pet." "No, perhaps not. But do not doubt this; you are mine."

Despite everything, the close proximity has the same effect as it always has, as if he'd never left. As he tightens his arms around you his familiar scent envelops you, making your head swim. You're not sure what possesses you to brush your lips against his throat, but you do it anyway, despite your every sense screaming at you that it's a bad idea. "Forgive me." For a moment you're sure that he'll send you away, that you'll wake up alone in your bed again and the thought makes it hard to breathe. But then his fingers ghost over your cheek, brushing your tears away before guiding your mouth to his. The kiss is a brief, unspeakably tender thing, over much too quickly. Brows knitted together in something like confusion his eyes are heavy on you, searching your face. "What is there to forgive? If I had known..."

You don't wait for him to finish speaking, pulling him back down by the lapels of his coat. His lips are as soft against yours as they've ever been as you pry them open, like it would be possible to push every shred of angerpaingrief into him that way. As if he could somehow understand your hurt if only you could force him to taste it. And he lets you, even as you nip at him until you taste blood, like bright copper pennies caught in your teeth. Lack of air makes your head spin but you can't stop clinging to him as if he'd turn to smoke under your hands, to slip between your fingers to be gone by morning. "Don't leave me like that again..."

You breathe the words into him like a prayer until your knees go weak, and even then he holds you to him still, not letting go. The descent onto the stairs is a gradual one, made clumsy by the reluctance to let go for even a second. Straddling his lap is a graceless affair, but you're beyond caring.  Feeling the fabric of his coat under you is a bit unsettling, the way it cushions your knees from the unyielding stone beneath a bit too well to be quite real. It makes you feel as if you could fall into the sky of the lining of it if you're not careful. "You are aware of my responsibilities; I can offer you no such promises."  That hurts to hear more than you would like to admit, but then he continues, "I can however endeavour to inform you when my work requires my full attention."

It's not quite an apology, but it's as close to one as you're likely to ever get and still more than you dared hope for.  As the hem of his shirt rides up exposing the skin there, the urge to be closer is overpowering. "I have missed you." The way he says it is quiet but fond, the words soft enough to rival the feel of his skin under your questing hands.

Wanting to lay any claim on him that you can you suck at the sensitive skin on the side of his neck, which surprisingly does leave a mark, one that doesn't fade. When the realization dawns that he's doing that, he's keeping it there on purpose for you, lust pools molten in your belly. Repeating the action on the other side makes him groan, the sound vibrating against your lips as he tips his head back and grinds his hips up against you, giving you all the permission you need.

The bruises bloom nearly instantly, another one of his tricks, offered up almost like a gift. They dapple the flawless column of his throat prettily, but it's still not enough. The seams creak in protest as you pull the collar of his shirt down to get at more of him, but he doesn't seem to mind.  After being apart for so long, suddenly having him this close when you thought you never would again is overwhelming and you're unable to hold back a few errant tears.  "Do you have any idea what it was like with you gone?" Giving his hair a pull, you force him to look at you. 

He wets his lips before responding, an uncharacteristically human gesture. "It was never my intention to cause you harm." The tremble in his voice is barely perceptible but still undeniably there.

His lips yield to yours so easily when you kiss him again, pressing the heel of your hand against his fly. "Help me forget?" As you breathe the words into his mouth you can feel him pulse through the fabric. "Please?"

Even with his hands aiding yours it's easier than it should have been to pull his jeans down, the stiff material offering next to no resistance, a convenience courtesy of the Dreaming. Rather than removing them completely, you push them only as far down as is necessary.

His cock is just as pretty as the rest of him, you'd almost forgotten that. The skin is silky in your palm as you give him a few slow pumps, just as a reminder of what he feels like.  "Let me see you." His words make the rest of your clothing fade away like morning mist leaving you completely exposed on his lap, another perk of his realm that you had missed. The way he touches you borders on worshipful as he presses a soft kiss over your heart, gentle as a butterfly wing.

Sinking down on him slowly is difficult when you're aching like this, but you want to savour it. For now, he simply leans back and watches as your body swallows every inch of him. The way he fills you so perfectly is intoxicating, addictive. It feels like coming home. For a while you don't move, just enjoying holding him inside like this, buried to the hilt as you squeeze around him. The intimacy of it is almost unbearable, nearly making you choke up again as he gently grabs hold of your hips and guides you into a languid pace.

"Tell me he didn't make you feel like this." The words are quiet, almost pleading, his eyes shining as he looks up at you. You had thought something like that wouldn't matter to a being like him, but his fragile expression tells you otherwise. "I need to hear you say it," he gasps, the stars in his eyes finally falling. Seeing him like this nearly breaks your heart all over again. As you kiss his face with all the tenderness you can muster, moisture stains your lips, making him seem remarkably human in that moment. "You know he didn't," you fail to keep your voice steady as you stroke his hair. "He wasn't you."

The way his chest hitches does nothing to douse the desire burning its way through you, not the way it perhaps should have done. He's so lovely like this, all dishevelled, cheeks shining. It's wholly unexpected, the vulnerability of it all, making the tension in your core coil tighter. The salt of his tears burning on the tip of your tongue makes you feel like consuming enough of him in any way you can would somehow erase your stupid mistake. As if he could fill you up until there would be room for nothing else, and he would push the memory of it out of you. 

"Please come in me," you roll your hips, pleading. "I need you to."

That you would ask for it so bluntly makes him let out a desperate little sound and thrust up into you ineffectually, the bunched-up fabric around his knees making it close to impossible to gain any proper traction on the smooth stone steps. He grasps your hips more firmly, spurring you on. "Move for me." It's still a fairly leisurely pace, neither of you so much chasing release as letting it arrive in its own time.  Pleasure washing over you in gentle waves makes your thighs quake as it brings you close to your peak before pulling away, time and time again.

The squelching noises as you ride his cock are embarrassingly loud in the empty hall, but you're beyond caring about anything except that you get to have him like this again. One of his hands moves to where you are joined, clever fingers circling your clit, not directly touching you yet.  "You make such a sweet mess of me, my love."He murmurs, voice strained as he continues, "I've missed that." The words alone are nearly enough to put you right back on that precipice, making you pull on his hair with a frustrated little whine. "Morpheus, please." At that, he goes completely still, his grip like iron as he holds you in place. You can feel his cock straining inside of you, nearly spilling but not quite. "Plead with me like that," he chokes out, cheeks high with colour, "and you will receive me sooner than you might hope."

Being the one to make his composure falter has never failed to drive you wild and this time is no different. Seeing him like this after your time apart, balancing on that edge right along with you, is very nearly enough to bring you off. Furrowing his brow he bites his bottom lip, fighting to keep his control from slipping, and you realize that you're going to come regardless of if he moves or not. It's like a tidal wave on the horizon, the pull relentless long before it arrives.

"I'm going to," you struggle to get the words out, "fuck, I'm..." The way his eyes bore into yours is almost hypnotic, drawing you in. "Go on," he breathes, egging you on, "come for me." Then he flexes inside of you and with a whimper, you're lost, walls spasming around his cock. There is no way to ride the wave of pleasure and nowhere to hide from it, the only thing you can do is slump bonelessly on his lap and let it wash over you, because he isn't letting you move. He's only a few seconds behind you though, pushing in as far as he can go and emptying himself there with a strangled sound, as if he really could wash every trace of the other man's touch out of you that way.

Spent, he rests his head against your shoulder, stroking his hands down your back soothingly as his come starts seeping out of you. For a while you simply stay like that, holding each other close.  Now that you're thinking more clearly reality starts to set in, and you can't help but dread waking up. Because in your heart of hearts, you know that you will wake up alone, no matter what just happened. It hits you like a sledgehammer to the chest and without meaning to, you start to tremble.

Realizing with rising horror that this might just be A dream and not your Dream, you do the only thing you can think of; you flee back to the waking world.

[nackrosor]

~Dreaming of him~

𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓹𝓱𝓮𝓾𝓼 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 2↫

warnings: smut and fluff, (less) p*orn with (more) feelings, oral s*ex (f! receiving), nudity

summary: reader falls asleep while thinking of Morpheus and has an e<rotic & emotional dream

words count: 3,312 k

"Finally!"

A loud sigh of satisfaction left your lips when you collapsed on your bed, sinking into the soft sheets and warm furry blanket.

You always looked forward to that moment, especially after a long busy day like the one you had just barely survived. You felt tired, like your whole vital lymph had been drained out and even slightly feverish although you knew it was your usual migraine making your heart pound in your head like crazy.

You needed to close your eyes and have a good night's rest. Your sore muscles however were making it a bit too hard to find a good position to sleep into.

There was only one efficient way to help you relax, to ease your tensed body and although you were quite sleepy you convened that pleasuring the tiredness off your body was what you needed. To this end, you turned and laid on your back, spreading your legs a little under the sheets. Your hand crawled under your nightgown and slipped unceremoniously in your panties.

You couldn't just touch yourself, tough. It wouldn't work. You needed to make up a fantasy in your mind or else you'd still be wanking in the morning. Well, perhaps not the morning but it would definitely take you a lot more time than you were willing to sacrifice that night. You needed to make something up real quick and with that aim in mind you closed your eyes and started rubbing your fingers on your clitoris.

You gasped when your mind presented you an highlight of a few different memories, all associated with the same person or well, a supernatural being. Morpheus.

You have had a crush on him since the first time you saw him in The Dreaming. He had helped you with a particularly aggressive nightmare and since that night you had had a few other brief but pleasant encounters. Literally everything about him intrigued you and captivated you. Although, his voice was what attracted you the most. It was like a soothing balm for your very soul but at the same time a lit match that aflamed your whole body with passion.

And it was his voice that you tried to recall and replicate in your mind as you touched yourself, making it whisper whatever you needed to hear to whet your arousal. With his deep voice came a vivid image of him, his charming eyes wandering over your exposed skin and his full lips parting to kiss his way to the inside of your legs, getting closer and closer to the point where you wanted to be touched the most.

"Y/N... " He whispered and you flinched a bit, startled at how the voice in your head could sound so real.

"Y/N?"

Maybe a bit too real.

Your eyes flied open and you heart almost jumped out of your chest. He was right there, in front of you, on your bed, kneeling between your legs, his crystal eyes curiously looking at you.

"I heard you call my name." he said, his gaze slowly traveling down your lying body, halting at your lower belly, were your hand disappeared inside your panties.

You followed it and gasped, abruptly withdrawing your hand and unfolding the nightgown that was rolled up to your hips.

"I fell asleep?!" you asked alarmed looking around you as you retreated a little to put some space between the two of you, leaning your back against the headrest. Morpheus was looking at your every move, amused, a small smile curving up his lips.

You were deeply mortified. How could it have happen? You were lying there in your bed, pleasuring yourself in the privacy of your room and then what happened? You fell asleep while thinking of Morpheus and inadvertently brought him to you? Oh God. You wanted to dig a hole in the ground right then and there and hide inside it forever or better yet, you wished you could immediately wake up and never ever dream again for the rest of your life. How could you look him in the face after that?

You tried to hide your embarassement as best as you could by covering your face behind your hand, fingers lazily scratching your forehead while you kept your eyes fixed on the ground, not daring to look up.

"Sorry...", you huffed in a whisper, "c-could you wake me up please?"

He chuckled in response at which you flinched a bit in surprise and your head snapped up. He moved your hand away from your face and took it in his.

"Why should I, Y/N?"

The look he was giving you was so genuine and alluring at the same time that you felt your heart missing a beat or two.

"You're here now...", he said, bringing your hand to his lips and leaving a gentle peck on its back, "exactly where you wanted to be."

Your breath itched at the touch and you gawked at him in disbelief. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? It took a moment for his words to fully register.

"I-I didn't mean to come here! I was just- I just wanted to... "

He smiled as he pecked your skin again, then turned your hand around and planted another delicate kiss on your palm.

"Morpheus?" the tremble in your voice betrayed your eagerness and he looked up, locking his gaze with yours.

"You were touching yourself thinking of me, calling my name."

He knew, he knew. Of course he knew. You wanted to melt, vaporize, get struck by a thunder! Anything!

"Isn't it true?" He arched an eyebrow, his head tilting a little to the side, his now seemingly innocent gaze boring into yours. You gaped at him, unsure how to react.

"Was it my hand that was pleasuring you?"

You gulped. The embarrassment of the situation couldn't keep you from feeling a growing warmth in your lower belly at the thought of the fantasy you were only a few minutes ago so nicely weaving in your mind.

"How did it feel?"

You wanted to answer that it was the best fantasy you ever had but you were stunned and kept your mouth shut. The whole situation felt unreal. It was unreal.

"Y/N? How did it feel to be touched by me?"

His gaze was too intense and you couldn't resist.

"So good."

The words spiraled out of your lips in a shaky huff before you could realize what was happening and stop yourself. You looked away, feeling ashamed.

"Oh?", he smiled, visibly amused. His hand moved on your cheek to caress it. You felt a light tingling where his fingers brushed over your skin, making your whole body shudder.

His fingers curled around your chin and he turned your head to face him. Your eyes locked for a moment before his gaze began to wander over your features, admiring every inch of your face, halting at your mouth. His thumb moved up to delicately brush the outline of your parted lips.

"Did I kiss you in your fantasy?"

He looked up at you and you flinched again, heart jumping in your chest. All you could do was shake lightly your head in response.

"No? Well, that's a shame. I think we require one kiss, at least."

He bent over you, slowly closing the distance between your faces. His lips brushed over yours in such a subtle way that made you lose your head and lean forward, attracted to him like a magnet. It seemed to you that your yearning was the only sign he was waiting for because as soon as you moved, his smiling lips crushed on yours. You moaned in the kiss, surprised by his eagerness. He was literally devouring you. His hands came to clench your sides and you felt like jelly, melting in his touch.

You were literally gasping for air when he leaned back, putting an end to that heated kiss.

Dream's eyes were scanning your face once again, seeming to revel at the sight of your flushed cheeks and dumbstruck look. Without uttering a single word, his lips moved back on yours only to tease you with a peck before he trailed them toward your cheek, then along your jaw, stopping at your neck, at the level of your throat. He planted a open mouthed kiss on that spot, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"Morpheus?" you shakily whispered, "why are you doing this? Am I making you do it, somehow?"

You felt his hot breath on your skin as he chuckled and lightly shook his head. He sought your eyes and his hand gently cupped your cheek.

"You are not. I am still the ruler of this realm and I make your dreams."

He saw the puzzled look on your face and tried to explain himself better.

"This is your dream, Y/N. And I am, voluntarily, making it happen. I'll give you anything you wish."

"And you are willing to..."

"I am, my dear."

You searched his eyes, trying to understand, to catch any sign that could finally ease your mind about the whole situation. Was he really willing to play out your fantasy for you? Was he interested in you as you were in him? Would he take as much pleasure in having you just as you would in having him?

Feeling your hesitation, Dream captured your lips in another kiss, less voracious than the last one but equally passionate. It was slow and deep, in one word, intoxicating. Your eyes fluttered close and you reveled at the sensation of feeling desired by someone, by him.

He begrudgingly brought the kiss to an end just to move his lips up to your ear and whisper, "I want you, Y/N. Do you want me?", then moved back and locked his eyes with yours, now wide open.

Of course you wanted him! You were the one who had fantasised about him and brought him to you. You nodded repeatedly, mind already wandering in anticipation to what was to come.

Dream tilted his head a little, scanning your face.

"Y/N, I want you to say it" , his forefinger moved on your mouth to gently tap your lower lip, "I want to hear it from your lips."

"Yes, Morpheus", you cleared your throat to let your voice sound more full and confident. "This is what I want. This is my dream."

The beautiful smile that appeared on his face brought one to yours as well and a warm reassuring feeling rose in your chest.

In no time his lips were back on your neck to tease the sensitive skin there, under your jaw, on your jugular, down to the swell of your chest, stealing a series of moans from your lips. He threw a glance up at you and locked your eyes with his as he resumed his descent, peppering teasing kisses over the light fabric of your nightgown. He moved down in a straight line along your chest, kissing between your breasts, on your belly button, halting only as he hovered over your groin.

His fingers skimmed over your legs, igniting the skin through their climb toward the inside of your thighs. They danced around the hem of your nightgown, teasing you with the lightest of touches, before they slid beneath the fabric and reached the hem of your panties, tugging them down in an agonisingly slow pace.

"Morpheus, please..." you cried out impatiently, rubbing your thighs together to make up for the ever more frustrating absence of his touch where you most needed it.

He smirked up at you as he slid off your foot the last portion of your underwear. His hands moved on your knees to give them a little squeeze then trailed up your thighs, spreading them wide, fingers slowly dipping under the hem of your dress, traveling upwards.

"You are so beautiful Y/N."

That compliment caught you off guard and you blushed visibly, bit your lips and averted your eyes from his.

You were on the verge of begging him to touch you and put you out of you misery when he lifted your dress, dipped his head and slicked his tongue through your folds. You couldn't possibly hold back the loud moan that escaped you.

After a second solid stripe down your core he placed a soft kiss to your clitoris and peeked up at you to watch your face contorting, then he continued littering you with teasing kisses until you were writhing under his touch.

"Morpheus!" you cried in frustration as you squeezed your eyes shut and bucked your hips towards him.

He was pleased to see you so desperate under him and he chuckled, his warm breath going cool against the wetness between your legs, driving you mad.

While his hands gripped your hips to hold you down, he latched his lips to you and started dragging his tongue back and forth, occasionally swirling against your most sensitive button.

Your hands instantly found his head, fingers tangling in his dark hair and tugging at it, making him groan against you while you whined pathetically.

He moved to focus on the clitoris sucking gently at first then with more decisiveness. He pulled the little botton up into his mouth, just past the lips as he sucked on it up and down.

A loud deep moan escaped you when his tongue dove into your entrance, making you arch your back and bent your head backwards on the headrest.

You were already worked up before he started so it wasn’t long before you felt your release growing closer. All your muscles felt tense like a violin cord and your hands tightened their hold on each side of Dream's head, supporting his motion.

"Morpheus, I'm- I'm-"

Looking down, you met his eyes which watched your reactions with a hazy, love-drunk gaze. His tongue slid up to focus once more on your nub, sucking firmly on it a few times. That was the last straw for you. A second later a rolling wave of pleasure washed over you and you cried his name out loud, eyes squeezing shut and seeing stars, legs twitching around him. He had to plant his palms on your inner thighs to keep from being squeezed as he got back up.

He licked his lips as he watched you come back from the ecstasy, eyes lingering on the rising and falling of your chest gradually going back to normal and then on the contraction on your face fully abandoning your features to give them a relaxed and satisfied look.

He was smiling softly, hands caressing affectionately your thighs when you reopened your eyes and met his gaze. Your hands were still at the sides of his face so you gently cupped his cheeks.

"That was..." you whispered, still trying to regain your breathing, "that was intense."

He took your wrists in his hands and as his eyes fluttered close he placed a lingering kiss on both your palms. That sweet little gesture after the thoroughness and care he just put in giving you the best orgasm you ever had, felt so intimate and meaningful that it made your stomach flutter and your eyes start to sting a little.

"Did it measure up with your fantasy?" he genuinely asked, looking down at you with the most tender gaze.

You could feel your eyes beginning to fill with tears and before he could notice, you leaned forward, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

"Are you kidding me?", you tried your best to swallow a sob as you nestled on his shoulder and against his neck "this was a billion times better."

His arms were around you in no time, hands supporting your back and he squeezed you against his chest making you feel so safe and happy and loved. You couldn't possibly hold back the tears any longer. A stifled series of sobs escaped your lips and you clinged tighter to him, fingers tugging at his robe.

"Y/N..."

His beautiful voice, resonating so close to your ear only made you more emotional. You genuinely had no idea what had gotten into you.

"Y/N, why are you crying?"

In an attempt to soothe you he ran one hand up and down your spine, while the other kept supporting your lower back.

"I don't know..." your shaky voice was interrupted by your sniffling, "I just- I've never felt like this... I'm so full to the brim of emotions and they're pouring out."

He hummed, nodding his head. "You must know that emotions here are amplified. It's totally normal to feel overwhelmed."

"Is that true?" The grip you had on his robe loosened and you leaned back seeking his eyes.

Dream immediately brought one hand to your face, wiping a tear from your cheekbone with his thumb.

"It is."

It made sense to you. That was still a dream, after all, even though one of a kind. And just like in any other dream you had, good or bad, everything you felt had been ten times more intense. You knew however that what Morpheus had made you feel was totally new for you, dream world or not. You've always yearned to know how it would feel to be desired, to be loved, and truly cared for and Dream had just given you all of that and more. At least that was what you felt. Was it real? Was that intense bubble of emotions pouring out of you real? And was it love? Or something else? Something made up entirely? Would you have felt different in the Waking World? All those unanswered questions were really starting to mess with your head.

You took a moment to scan his face, taking in all his beautiful features, the ones you adored so much. Your fingers reached up to follow your sight in its contemplation, grazing delicately over his skin as if you were scared he could disappear at a moment’s notice, but also as if you were touching a forbidden piece of art of invaluable worth and feeling undeserving of the permission granted to you to even stand so close to it.

You begrudgingly let your arms fall back.

"I'm sorry...", you sighed, giving him an apologetic smile, "I ruined the mood. It was your turn... You still want to...?" You babbled feeling a bit ashamed.

"Y/N. You have not ruined anything." he admonished kindly, brushing affectionately his hand through your hair. "And, I think we should keep something for the next time..."

You perked up at his words.

"For your next dream..."

"Right", you couldn't hide the hint of slight disappointment in your tone.

"Or-", he resumed, leaning forward, a knowing glint in his eyes, "for when you're awake."

As soon as the meaning of his words hit you, you gawked at him, a wide grin taking form on your lips.

"Y-you would?!"

Your earnest reaction made him smile and he nodded.

"If it will ease your mind, of course."

"Oh...", you averted his eyes, rubbing nervously your fingers against your cheek, "am I that easy to read?"

"Perhaps a little", he whispered, taking your hands in his, "the look you gave me just a few moments ago spoke louder to me than words could ever have."

With a sheepish smile you fiddled with his fingers in your lap then you interlocked them with yours and looked up.

"So", he said, leaning his forehead against yours, "until next time, my love?"

You screamed internally at the word 'love' he so earnestly uttered to adress you. There was no way you could refrain the wide smile that popped up on your face as you answered, "until next time".

You both leaned forward to meet in a soft and lingering kiss worth a thousand words.

-

"This dream is over."

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[why-what-no]

Morpheus’s Kinks Would Include

Pairing: Morpheus x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Notes: Don’t know how good this is, but 🤷‍♀️. Hope y’all like it. Let me know what you think I got wrong

Requested by: @absbdbshhs (darling, ask and you shall receive)

Written with: @16boyfriends-and-me

Morpheus wasn’t too kinky, at least by the standards of other supernatural beings

He was a very loving partner, not interested in hurting you (although he did enjoy teasing)

He tends to start of slow, fucking you deeply before picking up the pace. He’d just absolutely obsessed with the sounds you make as he hits those sweet spots inside of you

The man has a bit of a praise kink, both in terms of giving and receiving.

Telling you how good you’re being for him while he fucks you, gasping as you tell him how pretty he looks going down on you.

(He does really like to go down on you)

And those praised completely tumble out of him when he’s close, the words gasped in your ear with that deep voice of his

Morpheus likes having his hair pulled, that’s a given

As well as having a habit of biting your lip during sex

He can definitely be rough, as a strong and powerful being he’s very careful not to do any damage though.

If there’s anything you wanna do however, he’s usually down for it. As long as you’re happy, he’s happy.

Except for bondage. After the events with Burgess, he’s not exactly a fan of being tied up or losing his free will (he’s fine with tying you up though)

He’s also not very into voyeurism. He’s a very private person, with a lot of ego and dignity. So the idea of someone seeing you guys in a compromising situation is torture to him

Most of what you do happens in the bedroom with the door locked.

Although there has been a couple of occasions where you’d have sex other places (like his throne)

He’ll have his hand over your mouth with his fingers inside of you. Whispering dirty words or sweet nothings in your ear.

If you tug at his earlobe with your teeth, or gently suck at it, he goes wild. Totally done.

Other than that, like I said, he’s willing to experiment. But whatever you do, aftercare remains very important to him.

He needs to make sure you’re getting as much out of those experiences as he is.

[lis-likes-fics]

Dream a Little Dream

Pairings: Dream of the Endless x wife!Reader Word Count: 1.9k words Kink: Sleep/Morning Sex Warnings: NSFW, so vanilla, fingering, p in v, so many pet names you'll explode, nothing else really... A/N: I am already....so behind. The next few prompts may end up being really short like this one, as I have nothing prepared as of now. So I'll either write short stuff for a while or hold off on posting for a day or two until I can catch up again. Sorry, guys. Thanks!

The groggy pull of waking sticks to your skin like sap. You pull your heavy eyelids open and moan lazily as you bring your hand to rest upon the one heavy on your side. You intertwine your hand with pale fingers, moving closer to the being already holding you close as the flutter haze of the morning soaks into you.

With a lazy murmur, the deep voice of your husband fills your ears. "Good morning, my darling." His words glue together like licorice that had been melded in the heat.

"Good morning," you mumble.

Morpheus shifts forward until his entire body is pressed flat against yours. You feel the tip of his nose brush against the back of your shoulder, and his lips follow as he presses them into your skin. "How are you?"

You take in a long, deep breath, shutting your eyes again on a hum. "Sleepy." He chuckles lightly. "But I had a wonderful dream."

Morpheus smiles slowly. "My love, this is a dream."

You hum again, amused as you chuckle a little as well. "Well, then, I had a wonderful evening."

Visions of the evening flash behind your eyes, vivid images of flesh and fingers and lips. So much skin against smooth skin, lips on plush lips, eyes on gazing eyes. Your heart swells at the memory, as does his.

You sigh longingly, your eyes still closed as you relish in the softness of the pillow under your cheek and the warmth of his body against yours. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth as you speak, supporting your claim that: "I would love to repeat it but…I am much too tired."

Morpheus hums. "I would not take your sleep, but I shall take the work, if you wish."

Working your arm under your pillow and sinking further into the softness, you moan mildly as your drowsiness dares to pull you deeper into your sleep. "I would like that very much," you nearly whisper, holding his hand fondly.

Morpheus smiles warmly, pressing his lips to your shoulder once more and offering even more tenderness as he grants you more to your neck. You relish in his affection.

"Lay back, my love, and let me serve you." His voice echoes in your mind, and you mumble your response back to him as a sudden drowsiness holds you in its arms.

You whine meekly when he pulls his hand from yours in favor of roaming it over your body, smoothing his palm against your skin and teasing you with his long, slender fingers. His other hand snakes under your body and wraps around your chest, his fingers rolling your nipple between them and savoring your tiny moans. His touch remains gentle and slow as his other hand smooths along your waist and dips lower to tease your inner thigh.

You feel his fingers brush your folds, and your lips part as he parts your own and dips his finger inside of you. You take in a slow, deep breath, sighing on a tiny whimper. "Morpheus…" you mutter.

"Shh, my love." He presses his finger deeper, deeper. His voice washes over you like warm honey and velvet. "Just close your eyes and breathe and feel."

His voice eases you into that fluttering world between consciousness and unconsciousness. His finger sends goosebumps along your flesh, and your lips part as you feel the tiny sparks of pleasure dot your skin. He adds a finger, working them in a gentle thrust to coax the arousal from you.

He curls his fingers inside of you, a steady pace keeping you on the cusp of sleep while also delivering to you the pleasure you deserve. You moan lightly, and Morpheus’ voice finds you once more. “Let me love you,” he says. “Let me give to you what you wish, my darling.”

You mewl at his words, whining as you grind your hips back into him, though you’re not sure you moved much. You feel him growing hard against your thigh as he pulls you closer and continues to caress your breasts in his large hand. You whisper his name under your breath, clenching around his fingers as he presses them deep inside of you and curls them to massage that sweet spot inside of you that makes you gasp.

The room remains otherwise silent, save for your quiet sighs and whimpers, as he fingers you in your half-sleep. When you feel a knot building in your belly, you shift your hips back against your husband in a sudden search for relief.

His power over you, especially here as you dream with him now, is magnificent. He whispers in your ear, "Let go. Give yourself to me, my love." With a gasp and a shudder, you do exactly as he says. You grind your hips back against him as you let his power wash over you and take control.

He's thorough in making sure your pleasure lasts as long as it can, thrusting his fingers steadily into you, rubbing his thumb against your clit in a consistent circle to keep you wound and ready. And he speaks you through it with his soothing voice, gentle motivations and praises of, "That's it, my beautiful wife. You're doing so well…"

When you've properly come down, his voice comes again. "Would you like more, my dear?"

And you nod, your face still nestled in your pillow as your body settles even deeper into your dream-state. "Yes," you mumble, "please."

Morpheus smiles at his influence over you, holding you tighter as he entwines your bodies to wrap the both of you together. He spreads your thighs apart just enough to spread you open, taking himself in his hand and positioning himself at your fluttering folds.

"Are you ready, my sweetling?" he asks gently, kissing your neck tenderly. You nod again, humming as much of a yes as you could. With another kiss to your shoulder, he complies and begins to push himself inside of you, sheathing his cock into your warmth as a content sigh slips from the both of you.

"You feel magnificent, my darling," he says, pet name after pet name kissing your soul like a healing medicine.

He rocks his hips gently back and forth, his gentle thrusts filling you with his love without disturbing your sleepiness. It's a strange kind of feeling, to be so close to the edge of dreaming within dream but to feel so much pleasure keeping you just conscious enough to feel it almost tenfold. You clench around him as the drag of his cock massages the deepest part of you.

His name falls off your lips, almost like a prayer as he pleasures you on his own terms. Morpheus' eyes are shut and his hands are soothing over your body so slowly. He's lost in his own kind of ecstasy, his body tingling with the lust teeming within your own body.

You whimper again, moaning lightly and your bodies move together in a gentle, perfectly synchronized harmony. "M'love," you sigh. "So good."

He shushes you gently, sighing against your skin and kissing your shoulder once more. "Listen to my voice," he says, pulling you in with his compelling peace. His heart is so full with his love for you, you both lose yourself in it. "You are beautiful, my dear. You are radiant, you are lovely, and you are mine. I love you more than the stars could ever say."

You smile gently at his words, falling in love with him all over again as he rocks his hips in a steady motion with yours. You can't help but to grind your hips back against him, however lazy it is as your body seeks him out. "Oh, my love, you are perfect."

His skilled fingers find your clit once more, and he begins a steady pace over it. Your body shudders at the sensitivity, quickly giving in to his touch and letting his praise sink into your skin.

"Dream," you whimper. "'M so close."

"I know, my darling, I can feel it." His thrusts remain, taking the work in stride as he continues to give you what you need. "I can feel the way you tighten around me. I can hear your little breaths, feel the bumps on your skin…"

You whimper again, a little louder this time. The ecstasy is coursing through your veins, and you're so close to the edge of it all. "Please," you mutter.

He can't help the way his pace on your clit speeds up just a fraction, his grinding hips going a little deeper. He's always given you what you want, weak against your pleas and wanting nothing more than to make you happy.

"You are everything to me, my sweet heart," he sighs, his breath becoming more shallow with his own oncoming release.

It isn't long before the combination of his praise and his hips and fingers mix together and make you cum; a deep gasp filling your lungs, a helpless whine delving into little moans muffled in the expanse of your pillow, your thighs trembling with pleasure and still seeking more. "Mmm, Dream– Ah!"

Morpheus follows after, especially when you moan his name so prettily. How could he resist? He fills you to the brim with his love for you, a deep moan of his own slipping from his throat as he holds you closer as thrusts his hips into you through your orgasm. The power he continues to hold seeps into your flesh and bone and have you cumming so long, your entire body has no choice but to relish in the shuttering feeling as you continue to mewl and moan. Morpheus' hands on your skin and his lips kissing lovingly at your neck and shoulder make you weak.

Time stretches on as you slowly float down to the bed with a body heavy as a potato sack. You're so sleepy now, even more than before as the aftershocks of your pleasure still occasionally rattle through your body. Morpheus is right there to soothe your laziness. "You did beautifully, my love," he says, reluctantly pulling out of your warmth and admiring just how messy the both of you had become. "Do you feel better?"

If he wasn't in such perfect tune with your body, he would have missed the way you nodded. "Perfect…" you mutter.

He smiles. After a moment, you muster the strength to turn over onto your other side so you are facing your husband. You needn't open your eyes, you needn't say a word. You just turn yourself in his arms and press your body even closer to his own as he envelops your wordlessly into his embrace. He holds you as you silently praise him and his love for you.

He can tell you're about to sink into an even deeper sleep, the dream you're in being left behind for another (possibly even fonder) one—perhaps even one you could manage to open your heavy eyes in. Just as you're slipping away, his knuckles brushing your skin and his eyes watching your face, you mumble under your breath, "Love you…s'much."

He smiles fondly, a warm smile that would have made you cry, had you see it. He kisses your forehead and then gives into his desires to kiss your sweet lips, overjoyed when you manage to kiss him back. "I love you, too, my darling."

You both slip off together to meet again in a deeper realm of dreaming.

The Sandman taglist: @poetic-fiasco @the-nerdy-goddess @life-on-needs @fanreader @jamiethenerdymonster @sarahbullet235 @majestyjade @melinoe-the-rat @katsukis1wife @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @hatterripper31 @kplatzman @kmc1989 Dreamers taglist: @meg-the-second-greatest @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @gortycs @octo-octopie @damianodavidhands @alexxavicry @rosaren24988 @sayumiht @jaritzaflores94 @evabalexeeva @cl-0-vr Tag yourself here...

[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. Middle name too.

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

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

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

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

He reaches for your hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You welcome him.

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

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

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

He smiles triumphantly and presses you flush against his body.

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt

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

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You: D for Doggy

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

Notes: ~2.9k words, your girl needs to get laid 눈_눈

Warnings: MDNI - 18+, unprotective sex (do you think Endless can get STDs?), fem!reader, dom!dream, p in v, no foreplay goin' in dry babyyyy, jealous dream, unintentional cheating, slight angst but it gets fucked out, enjoy

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

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The world warps around you once again as your body stretches to a singular dimension. You are the beginning and end of everything. You will be there even when Death leaves and then you will take what she has left and open the next universe. Rebirth and repurpose. 

The Traveller. The One Who Knows. The Singularity. 

You have a name, you think, but it’s so old you don’t even remember how it feels on your tongue. 

It’s lonely being you, your sole job is making sure that everything works out in the end for every being, dead, alive, or yet to exist. And in your lonely existence, you often wander to different universes and realms. Your favorite was the Dreaming, a large realm that spread several different universes ruled by the Lord of Dreams, Morpheus. 

The familiar essence of the Dreaming greets you when you’re done warping into the realm. You feel each cell of your body rebuilding itself, from quirks to cells, from cells to living organisms, you are reborn. With a blow from your lips, your hair made of star systems and nebulas float back into place. 

The familiar corset you wore before you warped cinches around your waist and a breath leaves you, the ivory bones poking into your ribs. It was the necessary fashion for the realm you went to where a sneakily placed seed was enough to end a war that would come in five decade’s time. The rest of the time was spent entertaining the fae prince in his court. A good way to pass the time, but it eventually got boring, hence here you were.

The smell of tea and leather bound books indicates that you managed to weasel yourself into Lucienne’s library. You run your fingers across the spine of old and new books alike, occasionally itching your back when the markings annoy you. The corset dilutes the relief and you’re left with a slight vex for being denied scratching an itch. Lucienne is fast to find you, or you her, it’s all the same to you. You greet each other at a long table. Scrolls, books, and maps laid out before you. 

“Lady Singularity,” She greets with a familiar smile. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been a few decades now, has it?” 

“It has.” You agree as you turn your attention to the worn book in her hands, noticing the familiar face of the fae prince you met. “I was just with him.” You comment off handedly. 

“Of course, the Dreaming catalogs everything. You have been busy.” Lucienne comments as she continues to flip through the pages of your recent adventure. 

You look over her shoulder and read along with her, chuckling to yourself at the fun you had. When a familiar scene starts to unfold on the page, blush creeps up your cheeks and down your neck, a few of the stars in your hair exploding from your outrage. 

“Don’t read that!” You exclaim as you yank the book from her hands. You close it shut and the sound echoes in the library. 

“Oh, please, I’ve read everything. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Lucienne takes the book from you and no matter how hard you grip, the librarian has some weird power over the book and takes it easily. 

“Okay, well don’t read it when I’m in the room. I don’t need a friend to know what I did with… him.” Your words taper as you give yourself away the more you speak. “I’m leaving.” You say quickly as you run away from the situation. 

The sun is setting when you make your way up the winding and seemingly never-ending stairs of the castle. The halls were cast in warm pinks and oranges when you reached the room the Dream Lord had given you the first time you visited several millennia ago. The room is the same as you left it, the open window giving to a soft breeze as dusk turns to night. 

You walk to the mirror, noticing slight changes to your physical form when you jump through that wormhole. You’ll stay the night and then go back to your own realm, the dimension between past and future, but for now, the present is much needed. 

You pull at the string of your outer dress and start to breathe easier, the heavy fabric dropping and pooling around your feet. Your shoes come off soon after and then your stockings. Your fingers grasp at the strings that tie your corset together but each time comes just an inch short. You’re becoming breathless from the struggle when your room door opens. 

“Singularity.” A voice calls out to you. His shadow blocks the entire door before he slinks into the room. His robe flowed behind him like a wave of black ink. 

“Hello, Morpheus.” You greet back, looking at him through the ornate mirror. 

You go back to trying to loosen your corset, the markings on your back growing more and more itchy the longer you struggle. You give up with a huff, and your shoulders sag in defeat. 

“Allow me,” Dream offers and his cold fingers run across your upper back, moving the nebulas over your shoulder, then trailer down your shoulder. 

Goosebumps follow the fingers and down your arms before his slender fingers go to untangle the corset strings. You feel his exhale on the back of your neck and you close your eyes, afraid of what you may look like to him through the mirror, or worse yet losing yourself if you were to see him. You do end up peaking and watching intensely at how his expert fingers unfasten the strings of the constricting clothing. 

“I have missed you.” Dream confesses.

His lips press against the base of your neck when the corset finally comes off. Despite it slowly coming off, you find it hard to breathe still. His proximity was going to kill you if the end of time didn’t. He looks at you through the mirror, keeping eye contact with you as his fingers land on your waist. 

“Will you stay the night?” He murmurs against your neck, kissing the soft skin beneath it again. His hands go over your shoulder again, pulling at the chemise and letting the thin fabric fall off by itself. The final piece of clothing joining the others at your feet. 

You turn around, his hands guiding you, and place your arms around his neck, resting them there on his shoulders. 

“Maybe a few nights, if you shall permit it?” You grin up at him with a slight tilt of your head. 

He chuckles and leans in for a kiss and you meet him halfway, standing on your toes to reach his height. Oh, how he has missed the taste of you, the softness of your lips pressed against his. You have been gone too long, he thinks with a groan. 

You jump and find it to no surprise when he catches you easily, your legs wrapping around his waist comfortably as he moves the two of you towards the bed. Morpheus is all hands, running them over the roundness of your ass, up the curves of your hips, back down to caress the plumpness of your thighs. 

His lips continue, running his tongue across your bottom lip and leaning into you when you answer with a whine. The taste of you drives him crazy, his mind is in swirls as he tastes faerie pomegranate and figs. 

“Did you visit the Faerie Prince of Khoné?” He pulls away from your lips despite the difficulty of being away from you. Instead he finds solace in the shape of your collarbone, pressing open mouth kisses onto the thin skin. “I can taste it. I can taste him.” His voice rumbles with danger, the voice of a jealous lover. 

Oblivious, you settle your arms around his neck, playing with the small loose hairs at the base of his head. “I did, why?”

“And you visited him?” He asked again, emphasizing the word to ask you indirectly of what he really wanted to know. 

You look at him, eyes dark and swirling with emotion, his hands on your hips holding you harder as the seconds tick by. 

“Yes?” You answer unsure. “I visited him.”

A frown etches onto his face as he stays silent. 

You scoff at his reaction. “Of course I have multiple lovers, as I expect you to as well?”

Your fingers wander upwards into his unruly hair, twisting a few strands between your fingers. Still, he stays silent. The only indication was the brief flick of his eyes leaving yours. 

“Oh,” You say when you understand. “Oh.” You say one more time when the weight of the conversation dawns on you again. 

You’ve never felt more exposed than you have now, an emotional wedge driven between you and Morpheus. You get up from his lap and it hurts when he lets you, you feel the way your stomach drops at how easily he lets you go. Your arms cross over your chest and you step further away from the bed, and from him. The two parts of the equation are something you no longer saw yourself allowed to be a part of. 

“Forgive me, I presumed you had other lovers,” You meekly say.

Morpheus saw you now, no longer the confident entity that you usually were. You didn’t even meet his gaze. The stars in your hair turned blue and dull, a few dying at the fraying ends. 

“You presumed I had other lovers?” He echos, his voice tipped with anger. He stands now, looming over you, peering at you down his nose. His question was obvious, accusatory, and somewhat downright demeaning. 

“Forgive me, I’ll just…” You turn to leave, running away just as you’ve always done when things get too hard. You feel the way your body begins to warp, unraveling strand by strand. 

The warping stops when cool hands wrap themselves around your waist once again. One moment you are between realms and the next you are pulled back on the plush bed. You stare, dazed, at the equally ornate headboard and try to backtrack what just happened. Morpheus comes behind you, watching with lust filled eyes of you on your hands and knees, at the way your hair falls over your shoulders. You turn your head and look at him over your shoulders, unsure what was happening. Morpheus’s face gives away nothing, even his clothes disappeared, an act that you didn’t see him do.

“What’s–” Your words are cut off as he leans and his hand comes entangled in your hair, firmly grasping it. A gasp leaves your lips and you notice the way your body couldn’t stop the way your back arched at the pleasurable pain. 

“Bow your head,” He growls as he shoves your head into the pillow. Your arms give out beneath you at the slight force. Heat travels easily down to your core and you feel the wetness slide down your inner thigh. 

“It’s Lord Morpheus for tonight, darling. You will do well to remember that.” His voice gravels as he runs a finger down your spine. He traces the markings lightly, causing a ticklish sensation across your back and a whine follows. Your ass pushes back on him impatiently at which he clicks his tongue at. 

“You do not get to ask for anything tonight. You will only take what your rightful lover will give you, understood?” His fingers trace your opening teasingly as his other hand holds down your hip in control, 

“Yes, my lord,” You gape, your eyes rolling and you swore you could see the back of your skull. A plea rests heavy on your tongue, but you bite yourself so as to not break his rules tonight. 

Dream of the Endless is a gentle lover, but even his patience can run thin. His eyes run over your figure, curves prominent at the position he has placed you in. He loved you like this, vulnerable, exposed, and ready for him to do as he pleases with you tonight. 

The hotness of him presses against your entrance, sitting comfortably between your lips and he pushes forward once, twice, neither times entering you. You only whine in distress as he dances the line between teasing and pure, unadulterated pleasure. He caresses his hand over the curve of your ass, against the softness of your thighs, just like before, and you understand that he isn’t mad anymore, but you will be taught a lesson tonight nonetheless. 

He grabs the base of your hair again, the nebulas leaving shimmering stardust over his finger and presses a third time. His other hand grounds you on your hips and he pushes in. Without any proper foreplay his size stretches you uncomfortably. But, Dream of the Endless is a gentle lover so he stays still, fighting every urge in his shaking body as he looks down at your ragged breathing and uncontrollable shivers. 

He waits until you push back into him before he begins to move, taking you in inch by thick inch. He pulls out and a groan vibrates in his throat at the drag of his cock in you. The sound of your muffled moans spur him as he stares at how he enters you again. One more drag of his cock and he starts to fuck you in earnest as your whimpers grow louder. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin bounce around the room accompanied by the sound of your wonton, muffled moans. He pulls at your hair, pulling your face away from the pillows and the sounds grow louder. Each thrust he gives you makes your moans grow higher in pitch. You don’t think he’s ever been this deep in you as he scrambles the thoughts into your brain into nothing more than pleasurable gibberish. 

His hands were everywhere they could get a hold of. You’re chanting now, anything that comes across as a thought in your mind leaves your mouth in a haste of gibberish and repeats of his name like a mantra. Your clit begs for attention and with the last bit of clarity you had left, you moved one hand down towards your core. 

Morpheus is quick to stop you, giving a sound slap on the meat of your ass cheeks, the sting enough for you to yank your hand away. 

“Please,” You whine. “Please, please, please, my lord.”

“Will you return to the Faerie Prince of Khoné?” He asks between pants.

Your pussy tightens around his cock as his fingers and trusts do not slow down. Your orgasm was imminent and just barely shimmering under your skin. The question he asks sounds muffled in your mind, distorted amongst the thoughts of his unrelenting pounding and your clit pulsing from attention. 

“Hah… who?” You managed to choke out.

“Perfect answer, my star.” He whispers in your ear.

“Please,” You beg again. “I need it.” 

He thinks for a bit, considering if you deserve it as he watches you try to fuck yourself harder by meeting his thrusts. With a hum he leans over you, enveloping you in the warmth of his body as his fingers slide between your legs. He taps it once, enough to make you jump slightly in your skin, before he draws tight circles around the enlarged clit, your arousal making the action easy and slippery. 

Somewhere along the lines of your moaning, drool seeps out of you, wetting the pillow with your spit. Morpheus notices, of course, and grins at the sight. 

“Let me cum, please let me cum!” You plead into the air, obscenities of his name following soon after. 

“Very well, I shall give it to you.” 

Morpheus fucks you harder, just the way you like it, just the way he knows how to give it to you. Your orgasm is ripped out of you with a high pitched wail, sparking down your spine as little firecrackers light up in your hair, your teeth buzzing with the force of it all. The wetness of your orgasm soaks the inside of your thighs and drips down onto the sheets. Morpheus watches closely as it leaves you in a panting mess and feels himself become undone, releasing himself into the deepest part of you. 

He stays like that for a few moments, relishing in the warmth of your sex. When he does pull out, the mixture of your two arousals slowly seeps out, joining the puddle on the sheets. He calms his breathing, going back to tracing the art on your spine. You collapse in a heap of flesh and bones, using the last bit of your energy to turn over and lay on your back. Morpheus crawls over you, his hand never leaving your skin as he cups your face. 

“No more lovers but you,” You promise as he places a soft kiss on your lips. 

“I could never control you even if I wanted to, but… thank you,” He says as he accepts your promise. 

Morpheus falls beside you and pulls the blankets over both of your bodies, pulling you close so you would be flushed against his side. By now the sun has long since set and the two lovers share each other’s embrace in the company of stars. 

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Devil is in the Details

Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x f!demon!reader

Summary: When you are given a contract against the King of Dreams you knew what was expected of you. Unfortunately, you are a demon - an old one at that, so they should expect the unexpected. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (piv), bisexual reader, choking WC: 3820

This is the first instalment of works in The Anthology of Asmodeus' Heir. Part One: The Devil is in the Details Part Two: Lightbringer's Champion Part Three: A Demon’s Work Is Never Done Part Four: Rise of the Fallen Part Five: Queen of the Damned

Sickly sweet tendrils of smoke reached for the dark ceiling of the opium den, a headache already forming from inhaling as you stalked through the room. Dozens of flames flickered from twisted candelabras that cast shadows into the small booths filled with glassy-eyed customers. Limbs hung lazily over the stained velvet pillows, fingers twitching towards the pipe that would send them to another world.

Hidden in the very last booth where the smoke was strongest you found him, Abaddon. 

Crossing your arms and resting your hip against the booth, you gave a small kick to the demon’s chair. “Care to explain why I had to come to this cesspit and meet with your sorry ass?”

A slow grin split his face, a ghoulish baring of teeth before he sealed his lips around the pipe and inhaled deeply. “Take a seat, I have a contract for you.”

“I’d rather stand.” You didn’t try to hide the disgust as he let the smoke tumble from his lips and drew it up his nostrils. 

If he was offended he didn’t show it. Instead, he cosied down into the plush pillows and tucked his hands behind his head, the blood red robe he wore falling open across his chest. It was a power play, to show you that he held no fear for you, a game you were well adept at playing. 

“What is the contract?” you asked, wishing to hurry up and be back above ground where the air was fresh from the dizzying opiates. 

“It came straight from the boss,” Abaddon drawled, the high of the opium flushing across his skin until he felt the need to shuck the robe completely. “Old Lucifer’s finally decided it’s time to put Dream of the Endless back in his place.”

“Please,” you said with a snort at both the statement and the body he had bared by discarding the robe, “Lucifer is just pissed he bested her on her own soil. She will get over it.”

“Lord Azazel and the Dukes of Hell have united for the cause, something she does not take lightly.” Abaddon’s eyes sharpened on your face, enjoying the slight shock that rippled over your before you could conceal it. “She calls on you, the Lightbringer’s Champion, to bring Dream to his knees.”

A smirk grew on your face at the challenge and a small laugh bubbled from your parted lips. “Tell my sweet Morningstar that I accept.”

You turned on your heel and swept across the splintered floorboards and out of the den without a farewell or even a glance over your shoulder. Your mind was set on the contract and just how much you were going to enjoy fulfilling it. 

“How the fuck did you get out so quick?” Johanna spat as she opened the door to her apartment. You looked over her shoulder at the mess strewn on her floor and cocked an eyebrow. “I was looking for something. Keep the judgemental eyes to yourself demon-bitch, before you find yourself without them.”

You grinned at the endearment and pushed off the wall you had been leaning across, waiting for her to answer. “You know you wouldn’t have to look for things if you actually organised yourself a little better, love.”

“I don’t need another lecture, thank you very much,” the necromancer huffed, burying her hands in her pockets and taking a step back. 

You crossed the threshold and shivered at the wards she had inscribed beneath the Welcome Home doormat. “Trying to trap me again? I’ll try not to be too offended.”

Johanna waved you off with an eye roll and crossed the room to the liquor cabinet that was always fully stocked. “If you are weak enough to be caught in that spell, that’s your problem not mine. To what do I owe this displeasure?”

“Come now, darling, you love my visits,” you teased, accepting the glass of whiskey as you draped yourself over the small clear space on her couch. “Your namesake loved them too. Oh, you should have seen the fun we had.”

“You never did say why she started hunting demons,” Johanna probed as she pushed a pile of clothes to the floor so there was room for her to tuck her legs up when she cosied up alongside you. 

You ignored her narrowing eyes as you swirled the amber liquid around the crystal tumbler. “No. I didn’t. Put it down to a bad case of the blues.”

“You broke her heart.” She stated coolly. 

You tipped your head back with a laugh. “I break everyone’s heart, I am a demon.”

Johanna sighed and took a gulp of her drink, igniting the burn of the alcohol with a deep breath. “Why did you come here?”

“Have you seen Dream of the Endless recently?”

Her eyes flickered to her office and you swiftly rose from the couch to duck inside the even messier space. Your nostrils caught his scent lingering in the small room but it wasn’t fresh, at least a week old. 

“What do you want with Morpheus?” Johanna asked from the doorway, her body language deceivingly relaxed considering the concern her voice held. 

“Morpheus? How quaint to be on a first name basis with the King of Dreams.” The words were bitter on your tongue as you brushed past the necromancer. “I very rarely give warnings, Constantine, but steer clear of your friend if you don’t want your already short mortal life to become even shorter.”

“Is that a threat?” Johanna asked as she rolled her shoulders in anticipation. “Because I have no problem sending you right back to hell where you belong, bitch.”

Flames flickered in your eyes as your power began to burn to the surface, the air thickening as it drew closer. “There is a war coming that is long overdue, and he will not win. I don’t want to see you die, Johanna.”

“It almost sounds like you care,” she said with a scoff and turned her back on you, pointing to the door as she wandered further into her apartment. “Just fuck off.”

“She broke me first,” you whispered, her spine stiffening for a moment before she continued on her way. You slipped out the front door, shutting it silently behind you before putting your own wards across the door. She may banish you back to hell at least once a year but you cared for her, as much as a demon supposedly could. 

With Dream’s scent catalogued in your memory, you took to the dark and dreary London streets. There was nothing to be done until you picked up a fresh trail to track so you walked all night and let the rain wash away the memories that had wormed their way to the surface. Memories of Lady Johanna Constantine and the nights spent in Fawney Rig.

It took two months before you caught the scent of the elusive Lord of Dreams, but you wouldn’t call the time wandering the Waking a complete waste. There seemed to be more mortals willing to barter their souls than ever before, and your calendar was suddenly full of collection dates - in ten years time. It would pass in the blink of an eye for you. 

Dream’s scent had become a fixation, you had spent long nights dissecting it, studying the layers and notes that made it complete. You had determined it was unlike any other scent you had tracked. There was a musk that reminded you of an ancient book in a long forgotten library but also a floral hint of a blossoming flower bud, contradicting old and new. Then there was the deep richness that could only be found in the heart of the mountains, a purely masculine scent that one could almost bathe in. 

Now you were tracking that scent in Covent Garden, through the markets that were bustling with shoppers and past the buskers singing for loose change. A string of curses built on your tongue as a pungent waft of garlic from a gyros stand left your nostrils numb, Dream’s scent lost with it.

“Give me a fucking break,” you complained as you fought the urge to stomp your foot and send a flame into the stall that had disrupted your hunt. You knew it was no act of God that blew a gust a wind through the market, he would never give a demon assistance, but something or someone was on your side. A fresh hit of that delectable scent slapped you in the face and you shivered in anticipation of the renewed hunt.

It appeared Dream had no direction as you traced his steps out of the market and to the River Thames. The crowd thinned as you reached the river's edge and found him staring out across the water, his forearms resting on the railing. Utterly alone.

You had to give him credit where it was due, he didn’t even flinch as you mirrored his pose. “Hello, Majesty. Shouldn’t you have your raven?” 

“Sometimes I do things I shouldn’t,” he replied quietly, breaking away from staring at the murky water to glance at you. “You are brave to spend your time in this city, or stupid. There’s a rather dangerous occultist that doesn't take kindly to demons roaming her streets.”

“How do you think I found you?” you snickered, his eyebrows pinching in concern but not enough to question her wellbeing. “You really should mask your scent, Morpheus. You never know what malevolent beings might stumble upon it.”

“Is that what you are? Malevolent?” There was no fear in his deep, soothing voice, just curiosity and mild boredom.

You shrugged and looked down the river to the bright lights of the London Eye. “I am what I am.” 

“But you dream of being something more.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

When he turned, it took a lot of effort to stop yourself from taking a step back. His presence was a being unto itself, making him larger than just his physical body alone as it towered over you. His irises were almost iridescent in the fading light and his stare felt perverse, as if he were burrowing into the hellfire core where a soul should have been. 

“Not demons.”

“That’s very small minded of you, Dream,” you tutted. “I thought you of all people would understand how much time can change a person.”

“You are not a person, you are a demon. You can walk this plane in a beautiful, stolen skin but it does not change what you are.”

Your lips curled up into a dark smile as you reached out and ran your hand slowly up his arm. “You think I’m beautiful.” 

Your hand came to rest at the hollow of his throat and his body stilled as he waited for the attack that was sure to come. You should have, could have ended it in that moment but his fearlessness intrigued you - it was what had drawn you to Lady Johanna Constintine and then her great-great-great-great granddaughter. Instead, you went against your nature and ignored the burning letters of the contract written on your skin as you let your flames flare in your eyes.

His eyebrows rose ever so slightly and his lips parted with a silent question.

“No mortal body could contain me, and you don’t know nearly as much about demons as you like to think you do.” You dropped your hand to your side as a raven landed on the railing between you and barked a laugh at the sight. “Sweet Matthew, I wondered what happened to you. What a clever little bird you are, escaping my collection.”

The raven bowed his head before hopping along the rail closer to Dream. “I leave you for five minutes and this is what happens. What does Asmodeus’ heir want with you?”

You fought the urge to curl your lip back at the title. Ruling a domain in hell was a prison sentence for you, trapped in Lucifer’s realm to keep the lackeys in line. It was a future where you would do anything to escape, especially when Asmodeus’ line fed on lust. There was nothing attractive about the demons that resided in Hell, you would starve. 

“I have a contract.” The raven swooped at your face with a flurry of feathers and claws but a burst of flame from your hand sent him reeling back to hide behind Dream. “You never had this much nobility when you were mortal, Matthew. Don’t you think if I wanted Dream dead he would already be drifting on the ether?”

“She could have killed me a dozen times over,” Dream said to the raven as he let him perch on his shoulder. “I am still trying to understand why she hasn’t.”

“You’ll give yourself an aneurysm trying to understand me,” you chuckled, poking the hard planes of his chest through his shirt. “Perhaps I have spent too long with the rabble and grown a conscience.”

“She dreams of being more,” Dream said to Matthew, his beak opening in a way that was reminiscent of how his jaw had dropped when you had first appeared to him over ten years ago.

“I dream of freedom,” you corrected, “something you can give me, Dream.”

“If you don’t complete the contract another will be sent in your place. Why should I give you anything?”

“Well, you do think I am beautiful.” You teased him with a wink. “And, the fool who gave me the contract was very loose with his wording. I have no intention of letting the contract lapse but I also don’t want to see you dead.”

“Why not?” 

Matthew was still gaping as he swivelled his head to his Lord. His beady eyes were wider than you thought possible and you could see his little brain wondering if the King of Dreams had a death wish. 

“The century with you imprisoned was absolutely shit for my sleep, why the fuck would I want to live an eternity like that?” 

“So selfless.” Dream drawled sarcastically before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a leather pouch. “This conversation is better continued in private.”

“You can’t surely mean to bring a lust demon to The Dreaming, Lord?”

You waved the bird from Dream’s shoulder before hooking your arm in his with a grin he almost seemed tempted to reciprocate. “I’ll only bite if you ask me nicely.”

You swore a small, dark chuckle warmed the air as he blew a handful of sand into the street, before his hand came to rest on yours and the world disappeared.

Cramps wracked your body and threatened to send you to your knees as you roamed the empty halls of the palace. The hunger was torturous and never ending. Without Morpheus you hadn’t been able to walk through lust-filled dreams and feed, and you had no idea when he would return. 

Last week you had been bathing in the revellers of a sex club in Soho, drunk from the heady pheromones you had inhaled. Now you were starving to taste just a kiss. 

Another wave of pain left you stumbling and the ground welcomed you as a shadow glided across the stone. 

A warm richness enveloped you as your head swayed and the walls blurred. “Dream?”

His arms cradled you gently as he lifted you from the cold floor and the sound of his heart beating thumped against your head that came to rest over it. “You should have called for me.” 

“I’m not a heartsick mortal,” you growled weakly. “I would rather starve than abase myself.”

“Stubborn demon.”

You could feel his eyes on you as he navigated the halls and a flicker of decadence teased your power until your stomach grumbled in response. Peeking out, you expended some reserves of energy to tip your head back and found Dream indeed staring at you.

That sweet taste filled your senses again, growing stronger with each moment he memorised your features. 

“Either you have a kink for being a saviour or you have been learning to mask your scent.”

His deep laugh grew with the taste of his lust and your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed it in. “Why can’t it be both?”

Your strength was returning as he passed through an arch, large doors slamming shut behind him so you were smothered in his essence. The air was thick with his power and you gasped as a surge of your own ignited against it, his room, his sanctuary. 

Unable to resist the offering, you reached for him, savage in your need that was rivalled by his. Your hand grasped his nape and pulled him closer until his breath warmed your lips and he closed the distance.

The kiss was a fight for dominance, a taste of what was to come, and you yielded to his touch as he backed you to the wall. Your body was hot and cold, fire and ice, as the cool stone bit at your back and his body heat licked at your front. 

Dream moaned as you grazed your teeth over his rapid pulse, “What is this spell…” 

“I have no need of spells,” you promised as you tipped your head back with a soft cry, his fingers dancing across your skin, up beneath your shirt.

“That, I believe,” he murmured, tugging your shirt over your head and stepping back to drink in the sight before him, the words of the contract still burned into your skin. “So beautiful.”

“No more talking,” you said as you stepped closer, inching him back to the canopy bed that was waiting. “I could waste away listening to you say that.”

The back of his knees hit the edge of the sheets and he caught your waist with a small smirk that took delight in your words. 

One second you were standing, the next he had turned and tossed you on your back among the silken sheets. Your lips parted to unleash your thoughts but they were stolen by the weight of his body above yours and his tongue leaving you witless. Those full pink lips of his left scorching heat in his wake as he kissed the thrumming pulse at your neck, across the hollow of your neck and between the swell of your breasts. 

“Morpheus,” you moaned as his tongue flicked your nipple and sent your back arching off the bed in response. Your fingers laced into his hair and held him there, willing him to do it again. His chuckle was barely audible but you felt the vibrations of it through every bone in your body and when he sealed his lips around the supple skin and his tongue swirled you saw stars. “Oh, hell.”

You could have come from that alone, especially when his thumb and forefinger teased the other nipple in time to his tongue. He had you panting for more. 

Maybe you had said that aloud because he broke away from your flesh with eyes sparkling like a million stars and reached for your pants. The taste of his kiss lingered on your tongue but it was his lust that you swallowed down, drinking your fill as he discarded the last piece of material that covered your body. 

He drew in a ragged breath and his hands shook as he touched you. His fingertips teased your skin as he brushed them over your ankles, along the line of your shin and circling your knees before he grabbed your thighs and pulled you down the bed. He pulled you right to the edge and stood tall between your spread legs, baring every inch of you to him - unafraid. 

“You are far too clothed for what I had in mind.”

His smirk grew and his thumbs caressed little circles against your inner thigh, each circle bringing him closer to where you needed his touch most. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Not to a demon,” you reminded him as a knuckle lightly passed over your sex and a hiss of air pulled through your teeth. 

You could see the length of his cock straining against his pants but he seemed oblivious to it as he toyed with you, basking in the sounds he could elicit with the smallest of touches. 

“You want your release, then take it,” he ordered as he ran two fingers through your folds, the evidence of your readiness slick on them before he curled them inside your core and stopped. “Take it.” 

You rolled your hips and moaned as it pressed his palm to your clit. Those eyes of his seemed to glow brighter as you rolled your hips against and palmed your breasts, taking your pleasure from him.

Your wanton cries filled the room as your core tightened around his fingers but before you could combust he pulled his hand away and dropped to his knees. His lips sealed over your clit and you screamed as he sucked the sensitive nub, tipping you over the knife's edge and into an orgasm that set the room on fire. Your power exploded as the well that had been empty was refilled and then overflowed. 

The contract written across your skin flared and dissolved as it was fulfilled, exhaustion of a different kind setting in as you lay amid the ash that fell like snowflakes.

Dream rose from the floor, his lips glistening, and quirked an eyebrow at the destruction of his room but with a wave of his hand the lingering flames were doused and the room was back as it was. With the distraction of the mess gone he immediately noticed the contract missing from your skin and knelt over you to trace his fingers over the empty space. 

“Abaddon really should have been more specific when he placed the contract on Lucifer’s behalf.” You laughed, imagining the fit the demon would throw when he realised Dream was still alive but the contract had been completed. “Bring him to his knees has a very different connotation to a lust demon.”

Smouldering eyes met yours as he cupped your face, a devilish smile playing at his lips. “You are one clever demon.”

Pride swelled in your chest and you bit your lip at the feel of him pressed between your legs. “And you are one overdressed lord.” 

He rolled onto his back, pulling you with him and as you rose above you found the cloak and every other scrap of clothing gone. His eyes were a sparkling abyss you were happy to get lost in as you lowered yourself upon him, gasping at the delicious burn of your body stretching to accommodate him, moaning at his fullness when your skin was flush with his. 

“Go on,” he dared as he cupped your breasts and pinched the hard peaks of your nipples, “take what you want. Feast.”

Rising to his challenge, you rolled your hips and took his pleasure, his lust. You took it all, over and over.

Click here to read the next instalment in The Anthology of Asmodeus' Heir: Lightbringer's Champion

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬

requested by @simpforbuckyb

A/N: asdfghjkl one of my favourite tropes with one of my favourite boys, what an excellent way to kick off kinktober! thank you so much for the request my lovely, I really hope you like it <33

You feel the tremble radiate through Mopheus' body as you slowly sink yourself down onto his cock. He throws his head back onto the mattress, his eyes squeezing shut. His whole body tenses, the muscles of his stomach flexing as he fights to control himself. His fingers dig painfully into your hips as he struggles to contain himself, almost overwhelmed by how good it felt to have your warm, wet pussy wrapped around him.

It was a feeling so new to him and yet somehow so familiar, as if this is where he belonged. As if he was always meant to be buried inside you like this. As if he was made for it.

Or perhaps you were made for him, considering just how perfectly your tight cunt fit around him.

“You alright, my love?” You ask gently, careful to keep your hips still for the moment.

Morpheus takes a deep shuddering breath to steady himself before answering. His eyes open half way to greet your gaze with a sultry, already fucked-out look upon his face.

“You just feel so incredible,” he whispers raggedly.

You smile at him softly as you slowly begin to start rolling your hips, rocking back and forth on his cock. He groans, deep his chest and yet high in pitch. His hands move with your hips as he lets you set the pace; slow and steady, careful to overwhelm him too quickly.

You take your time with him, not rushing to build up speed or momentum, just letting the both of you revel in the feeling of finally being connected in this way. Morpheus pants and writhes beneath you, his back arching slightly, bucking his hips up to meet yours as you grind down on him. As you steadily increase your speed his moans increase in frequency, rise slightly in pitch, his fingers gripping you tighter and tighter as he builds towards his climax.

You can tell he’s close, just seconds from releasing inside you when he suddenly sits up, stilling your movements. His one hand snakes up your back, his palm flat between your shoulder blades, pushing you into him. His other hand moves to cup your nape, tilting your head back slightly. He swiftly buries his face into your neck, his lips burning feverishly against your skin. You run a hand up his back, sliding up his neck to land in his hair, cupping the back of his head gently.

“Morpheus, what is it?” You ask gently, even as a soft moan escapes you when his lips pepper searing kisses across your throat.

“I want to make you feel good too,” he breathes hotly against your neck. “Tell me... what... makes... you... feel good,” he demands between kisses.

You loose a soft moan at the whine in his voice, the sheer desperation he had to make you feel as good as possible even during his first time; it made your heart swell and your pussy clench. Even so, you shake your head lightly and stroke his face with your hand.

“I’ll show you exactly how to pleasure me afterwards,” you promise him gently. “But right now, my love, this is just about you...”

Main Masterlist // Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hiii

Idk if you have done this before but a Morpheus x reader one where Dream has been recently set freed and is so touched deprived that when he met up with reader once mode after being separated for a century he can't control himself and it leads to some sexy stuff in which it leads to them breaking the bed (kinda like the honeymoon scene in twilight 🤭)

Just straight up desperate needy Morpheus hours 🫶🏻

Caged

Dream of the Endless x Demon Hunter!Reader

Summary: Dream has made himself believe that he is alone in the world, nothing has further solidified this that being imprisoner for a century. Who'd have thought he'd find warmth in one of the coldest people alive.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, smut (biting, marking, dom/sub dynamic, hair pulling, vaginal penetration, oral [m receiving], edging ig?, unprotected sex, brat!dream idk it just happened, praise kink [uh... reader talks to him like a god during sexy time so]), hurt/comfort ig, reader's so angry HAHAHH T_T, fluff, etc.

A/N: im not in the mood for smut but i might be when i write this. update MINORS DNI hello nonnie i am finally in the mood for smut HAHHAAHHA and i am in the mood to ruin dream's life (: i took a lot of creative liberties i have no idea why i made this so long so i hope you enjoy it my dear <3 another day another 5k smut fml Also i invented a lot of stuff for reader, like giving Morpheus a Roman name so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just just just roll with it along with my most definitely wrong google translated Latin ok? ok. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx anOTHER one (continuation) "Petty And Yours"

"You know," I swirled a watermelon lollipop in my mouth, "you're so pathetic for that."

A breeze blew back my maxi dress and I crossed my arms at the fact I was being ignored by the uncharacteristically warmly dressed man.

The park bench he was sat in the middle off had some fallen leaves that were slowly tumbling down to the ground with the push of the wind. I give him a moment to respond. I huff at his continued silence.

"Earth to Dream?" I call louder.

Still nothing.

"Somnium Regem?"

A bird makes a sound as a large piece of bread is gobbled down its throat.

"Hey! Sulky trench coat man!" I bark.

Finally, the man feeding pigeons turns to me.

His eyes are dull and bright all at once, a shade of glistening blue that had no life behind them. I raise my brows, lips pulling upward in distaste, "you remind me of that bat in Gotham. So emo for no reason," I scoff, straightening my arms, "everyone's parents die at some point."

"Why are you here, demon hunter?" the being grips his baguette.

I scoff again, "I'm here because I like you, baby."

He turns away from me, tearing up bread, haphazardly then dropping it in front of small creatures. I grimace as the birds flock over to the bread like they had nothing better to do-- which they don't.

"I do not enjoy your bitter sarcasm, eight," Dream says pointedly.

I roll my eyes, walking over to him, fingers rolling the lollipop stick sticking by the side of my mouth, "well, if you didn't ask me stupid-" I push his legs together so that I can sit next to him, "-fucking questions, then maybe I wouldn't want to constantly drop kick you."

Dream hastily moves to the side as I plop down next to him, crossing my legs as I lean back and stretch my arm out on the backrest. I look at him as he looks at me. Wind blows at both of our hair. I move his dark strands along with the breeze so that I would not poke at his already glassy eyes.

He blankly stares.

I shrug in expectance, "Domina told me you've been sulking, and that I'd find you here, just like how she found you here days ago."

Dream blinks, "my sister should not have troubled you with needless concerns."

I furrow my brows at his response. I roll my eyes incredulously, "you are so fucking stupid."

He gives me side eye before turning back to his pigeons.

"You know, for someone who should have a profound understanding of the world, you clearly don't know anything."

The Endless hisses under his breath, "silence."

"What?" I give him a look, "don't like that?"

I can see him almost going against himself as not to sneer at my grilling.

I pout exaggeratedly and speak as though I was a child, "wha' you gon' do 'bout it? You gon' kill me now?" I raise my hands and monotonously hark, "oh no help, I'm so scared."

"I do not know why Death sent for you," he quips, breaking his gaze from the birds to narrow his eyes at me. He continues crumbling bread onto the ground.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I straighten and face forward, "that's because I'm the most irritating bondservant she has," I prop my elbows on my legs, "which is effective for making people want to do my bidding in return for me shutting up."

"I shall not leave," he looks to the feeding animals, "I am keeping the pigeons company," he mutters, "they appear... lonesome."

I wipe my hands on my face, pulling the lollipop out of my mouth as I sigh, "intenta et tenera domina." My eyes twitch in annoyance when I muttered 'the attentive and tender lady' in my mother tongue. "I should have known we were playing therapist today."

I shake my head, popping the candy back in my mouth, grabbing the bread from his hand. He turns to me, helplessly watching, unable to fight against me; he knows I'd bite his finger off if he touches me.

"Ever heard of projecting, Somnia?" I hiss, chucking his baguette as far off as I can.

He watches the projectile disappear into a bush.

He glares at me.

Goosebumps form on my skin when he speaks, "visne noctes noctes te affligere?"

Admittedly, the roll and click of his tongue speaking Latin did make me stiffen, though, 'do you want nightmares to plague you tonight?' was a threat so empty to me.

I sniffle, retorting in the same language, "I haven't visited your nightmarish domain since its castle walls began to crumble."

Dream takes his turn to freeze.

I tilt my head, crushing the lollipop between my teeth, "personally," I pull the stick out my mouth, tucking it in Dream's pocket, who does nothing when I do so, "I take enough trips to hell to not want to visit something that mirrors it so well. Not when I'm supposed to be dreaming of heaven."

I can see how my words strike through him.

I notice how his stoic and pale face hardens and loses its color even more.

I continue to egg him on, "I feel bad for your dreamers who think the drab ones the have at night are the best you can do."

I can almost hear the gloom radiate off him.

I purse my lips and stand, "speaking of nightmares, I caught your nightmare once," I place my hands on my hips, "I thought the gruesome serial killing was demonic in nature, so I tracked the killer, only to find it was no other than your Corinthian."

Dream looks at me, expressionless, as I raise my brows, "did you handle him, Somnium Regem?"

The Dream King looks like he does not want to talk to me at all now. I give him a challenging look and needlessly straighten out his coat for effect.

He straightens up, then brings his hands in his pocket, pulling out a skull that had teeth where his eye sockets should have been.

I look at the thing, feeling a swirl in my stomach, "poor In Oculis."

Dream visibly reacts to the Corinthian's old Latin name, The Eyeless.

He remnant of his creation disappears from the palm of his hand, "how long have you gone without sleep?"

I turn away from him, shrugging at his U-turn back into that conversation, "does it matter? I won't die."

"It matters because Somnium Regem is inquiring this of you."

I turn to him and repeat my answer, "I told you, ever since your castle began to crumble, it's just be me, myself, and coffee."

Somnia stands, towering over me, uncharacteristically high, "you have not slept in a hundred years?"

I look up at him with knit brows, "has anyone slept in a hundred years?"

"Then at once you must-"

"I'm not here-" I grab his collar, tugging him down slightly closer to me, "-to talk about my sleep pattern, Somnia. I'm here to make you stop sulking."

"That is not your forte, demon hunter," he brings his face close to mine, "perhaps if you were from the fifth."

"Fuck you," I snap, getting on my tiptoes to near his stupidly high face, "I'm good at everything."

Somnia grumbles something under his breath.

I release my grip on his coat and snap my fingers, "and besides," I raise my arms out to the side. I take one step back and allow myself to fall backwards. I then dip into the portal I conjured in the ground, swinging up until I was standing on the other side.

I turn over my shoulder, finding Dream was already standing there behind me. I grin, "I'm the only person who knows what it's like to be trapped for a hundred years."

Now in the confines of my home, I strut over to my sofa where an axe was placed and consecutively forgotten, "though, mine was eight hundred."

I turn to Dream, who suddenly looked uncomfortable.

I laugh at him, "wow. You finally feel bad for me? You used to be so indifferent when I mentioned that to you."

My eyes zero in on the note on my axe, hissing at the reminder that I meant to put it away last week. I grab the piece of paper, instinctively crumpling it. I instantly regret my innate inclination to destroy, cursing under my breath, then flattening out the thing.

"Make yourself at home, Morpheus," I rub the paper in my hand, "let me just put this thing back where it came from."

I grab the axe and prop it on my shoulder.

Dream does not make himself at home; he instead follows me as I walk to the weapons room. I give him a look, "I guess you can feed the gremlins in the basement if you want."

"I would rather follow you."

I shrug, "ok then."

I make my way down the hall, and open the light in room once I enter, revealing the age old trinkets and gadgets my family has been using since the first generation. I bring the note to a chamber that then seals the object with the rest of the artifacts like it.

Dream further scrutinizes the thing as I walk to the axe holders. "Constantine?" he says after reading what was written on the note.

I grunt as I put away the borrowed item, "the idiot wanted to borrow this," I motion to the axe in my grip, "I told her she can't touch it, touched it anyway, didn't die" I huff, after securing the axe back in its place. I place my hands on my hips as I turn to Dream, "and now I got a thank you note in return."

Dream turns back to the note that read: Thxxx -Constantine.

"Items of gratitude are the best bait for a soul suckers," I say, then pointing to a bunch of dark hued orbs on a shelf before walking over to him, "almost as good as nightmares."

I reach his side as he looks out to his gift to the sixth, the sixth generation of my family, Nightmare Marbles. They were largish glass spheres that harnesses the darkness of nightmares; a demon's equivalent to chocolate bars.

"And you relived your worst nightmare to procure so much bait, eight?" Dream whispers, turning to me with a tense expression.

I give him a look, "didn't you say my grandma from the third generation was also a sucker for punishment?"

"She did not go through her worst nightmare 78 times to make nightmare marbles."

I turn to the shelf, "damn, you managed to count all that so quickly?"

"Eight, this is-"

"What? I'm genuinely impressed!"

I freeze when he calls out my actual name. He rarely did that. In fact, there were only a few people who knew my real name and did not call me eight. Eight, as in I am from the eighth generation of demon hunters from my family. It became my name because, well, I was the only left, which was why I could not die.

I feel my belly roll at the sound. I clear my throat, weakly speaking, "what?"

"I did not gift that to your grandparents only to have you use it to punish yourself."

"Why would I want to punish myself?" I mutters, "I'm not you."

Dream is silent.

I sigh, walking out of the room, "after living out eight hundred years in hell in one fucking day, you tend to instinctively get fucked up in the brain."

I make my way down the hall, and at the end, Dream was there, already waiting for me. I give him a quick look as I pass him, "the nightmare doesn't hurt me anymore."

"Eight," he calls. I do not stop on this account. I do, however, when he asks, "why are you lying to me?"

I suck in a breath, keeping it deep in my lungs. I feel him walk up to me. I feel him take my hand.

I turn to him, sighing and brows knitting at his affection. He is still towering over me, and don't feel like craning my neck up so I don't look at him. I tighten my grip on his hand, "why are you lying to me?"

When I finally look up at him, he releases a breath. I release his hand and get on my tip toes to grab his cheeks. It was as though his glassy eyes were waiting for this moment to allow the tears to fall.

I knit my brows at the unexpected reaction. I sigh at the sight of him.

"I did not lie to you," he responds like a secret.

"Really?" I speak in disbelief as I wipe tears on his cheeks, "was it the pigeons that were lonesome, or you?"

"... both..."

I fall back onto my feet, hands trailing down to his chest, "you're right. I suck at... comfort..." I take the lapels of his coat between my fingers, "only cause I'm rough around the edges. Sorta like you," I hum, raising a brow at him, "except I can admit to it, whereas you-"

I push his chest, making him walk back all the way to the sofa my axe was moments ago. I force him down, and down he goes, bouncing on the cushion. He looks up at me as I pull away and give him a soft smile, "you need that coaxed out of you."

I was meant walk away from him, but he grabs my thigh before I can.

"Non potes exspectare dicere tale quid me derelinquas."

You cannot expect to say such a thing then leave me.

I look at the hand hooked behind my thigh. I raise my brow quizzically, "I have work."

"I am your work," he says, other hand coming to my other thigh, "your Lady commanded you to take care of me."

I snort, grabbing his chin, "no, she told me to make you stop sulking."

"Yes, she did," he hums, hands trailing down my legs, grabbing the ends of my skirt.

"You were literally crying a moment ago."

"You're a tear in my heart."

"That's a twenty one pilots song."

"And I am eager for you to make me stop sulking."

Dream's eyes are fixed on me s he leans in and begins bunching up the fabric in his palms, slowly bringing them up with his hands.

I release a sigh when his hands make it back where it was before, though perhaps a bit higher this time. I place my hands on his arms, stopping him from continuing. He turns stills like a statue before me.

I nibble my lower lip before speaking, "if we're going to do this, we do this in my terms."

His lips instantly curve up in response. He nods slowly, "in imperio tuo."

On your command.

I push him back upon hearing that, a lump in my throat forming at the words from my mother tongue. I quickly climb on to him, straddling his legs, fingers combing into the roots of his hair by his nape.

I immediately lock his lips with mine. His hands work much quickly this time around, ripping my skirt all the way up, making me raise my hands so that he can pull my dress off me.

I moan against him when his hands begin to scratch up my back. He moans against me when I grind down on him.

I pull away, catching my breath so I could take my turn in undressing him. He moves to help me rid of his ridiculous coat and when he grips his shirt, I hiss at him, giving him a stern look, "don't spoil my fun."

I then push myself off him and bunch up his shirt in my hand, dragging him all the way back to my bedroom.

Once we're there, I push him onto my bed and crawl on top of him, perching on top of his groin, slowly digging my hands into his sides, underneath his clothes.

I reveal his stomach to me, pressing my fingers down the middle of his skin, "so pretty."

His hand trail up my thighs, kneading at the flesh, humming, "yes," he tugs at my panties, "you are quite exquisite."

I chuckle, lips curving into a smile, "aww, you're going to make me blush," I swat at his hands, "hands off."

He reluctantly obeys.

At this point, I rid him off his shirt and his hands immediately move to come back to my thighs. I swat him away again, to crawl down and begin to attentively kiss his chest.

I sigh against him as his hands come to my sides. I feel the purr-like sounds he produces as I suck and graze my teeth on his muscly pec. I hum in approval when I pull away and see the blazing red mark I left on his burning white skin, "if you morph my art off your body, I will give you nightmares."

I begin working on his skin again when he laughs at my words. I feel the vibration on my lips. He rubs my shoulder with his hand, "a titillating thought."

I look at him from where he was looking down at me and bite down on the side of his ribcage. He grunts in response. I raise a brow at him, "it's a threat, Somnia."

His eyes darken, where mine sparkle.

Without warning, he pulls my head back by my hair, and pushes himself up by his other arm, "who do you think you're threatening, child?"

I wince, chuckling under my breath, "clearly this wanton creature beneath me."

He pulls me back by my hair more as he sits up all the way. I make a sound as he grabs my thigh and skids me closer on him.

Dream brings his face close to mine, nostrils flaring, as if in warning.

I chuckle, licking his lips, "remember, sweetling," I tug on his lower lip, releasing it to say, "on my command."

He sucks in a deep breath.

I raise a brow, "you wouldn't want me to leave you, now do you?"

He sighs, releasing my hair.

I push him back down, clicking my tongue as I do so, "naughty boy," I chastise, "wanting to take the reins so badly."

I begin to undo his pants, holding in my laugh at the visible imprint on him, "maybe I should take precautions before undoing you, hmm?"

I push myself off him and leaning to my side. His hands take hold of my waist as I grab something from my bedside table. I look down on him with a grin as his hands knead at me. I shake my head, "off."

Dream stills.

"Get your hands off me, Dream."

He obeys and so I take both his wrists in front of me. The golden serpent bracelet begins to then slither around his wrists. He watches this contraption shackle him and grunts, "you mock me, demon hunter."

I chuckle, moving off him, "well, you're being quite difficult."

Dream helplessly watches as I get off the bed and walk to the side of the room. I hear him try to rip at his cuffs. I laugh as I grab a silver spear, "that was a gift from Jupiter. Try not break it."

I then plummet my spear at the base of my bed. I wiggle a finger at Dream, beckoning him over, "now come over, beloved Somnia."

He does not struggle as he crawls over to me with bound hands.

"On your back," I say, "hands up."

Dream does just that, rolling on his back, bringing his bound wrists to the spear where the serpent then begins to constrict itself.

"Very good, my king."

The king makes a sound of distaste, which I heartily laugh at.

I waste no more time and quickly go to him, ridding him of his remaining clothing like a kid on Christmas morning.

My lips involuntarily part at the size of him, "fuck. I forgot you made yourself... bigger."

I find offence when he chuckles and croons, "will this be a problem?"

"No," I quip quickly.

"Very good, then," he smiles.

I mock, "very good then."

Once it was now just me, him, and his pulsing length, I begin my ministrations. I crawl back on him and grin, grabbing his hardened member, "not quite a watermelon lollipop but-" I cut myself off and take him in my mouth.

He heavily breathes out and shuts his eye. I giggle in approval over his reactions, one hand coming to my core, already slickened with arousal.

I lap my tongue around him before taking him deeper. I press both my hands on his thighs when his legs begin to stir.

I dig my nails into his hips and slowly constrict my teeth around him as I bob my head up and down him. In a sort of challenge for myself, I make an attempt to take him all. The moment he hits the back of my throat however, I begin to struggle and will myself to relax to further take him in.

When I begin to gag, I pull myself off and catch my breath, leaning my weight into, "you did this on purpose," I scoff, "you knew this would happen."

"I am not omniscient," he laughs, "I did not foresee this-"

"Oh fuck you," I cut him off, "I'm going to fucking make you cry."

Oh, you can bet that he found that funny.

His laughter was cut off when I removed my underwear, chucking my panties and bra to where ever, then mounted myself on him. I am glad I am wet enough to take him in but I cannot withhold the whine that I tried to conceal as I did so. Fuck him and his magnum cock.

Well... that was what I was doing.

Once I am on him, he lets out a moan and the pulls at his shackles, making the snake bracelet glow and constrict tighter on him.

I take my turn to laugh this time around, and my core, which was still busy adjusting to the size of him, flutters around him. I don't say it as self-satisfied as I wanted to, "serves you right."

He calls out my name. It makes my stomach roll.

I fell him slowly rock his hips into me and I push down on his chest, whining at his attempts, "stop! Stop! Give me a fucking chance."

He instantly stops and looks up at me with a worried look, "I apologize, I-"

"Shut the fuck up," I shake my head, "the more you speak, the more I want to fuck you up."

Dream presses his lips into a thin line, but he obeys.

After a while, I allow myself to ride him like an eager jockey.

I rock myself on him at a slow pace. I heave in and out at the overwhelming feel of him. My toes curl at the bundle of nerves he hits every time he fills me up to to my fucking stomach.

I sigh as I rub on my sensitive nub as I press my weight forward. I close my eyes and chew on my lip at the sensations. I drag my flesh out of my teeth as I begin to feel pressure build within me.

"More," Dream whines, craning his head up to look at me.

I look down on him, narrowing my eyes, "pretty boys like you don't ask," I mutter, "they beg."

I push my hands on his chest and lean down to give him a kiss, all while keeping the slow pace of my thrusts. When he meets me halfway to take my lips in his, I dodge him, then rub my nose on his, "I said beg. Beg for me."

He moves his head closer to catch my lips, and I pull all the way back, sitting up again to look down on him in disappointment. He whines, pulling his arms, making my contraption glow and constrict all over.

He drops his head in defeat. I chuckle.

"Beg," I call out louder.

Dream gulps, "please."

"What?"

"Please."

"Please, what?" I cease the roll of my hips, "please stop?"

He heaves, lifting his head back up, ripping at his wrist, "please don't stop."

"Mmm," I nod, "but I'm a little confused, my lord," I massage my breasts, "what exactly should I be doing?"

He watches my hands for a moment. I'm amused it actually distracts him. I chuckle, "Earth to Dream?"

Dream sighs.

"Somnia?" I drag out.

"Move your hips," he says breathlessly.

I hum, pretending to debate his words.

"Please," he adds, making me smile.

I rub my wetness on him, "you mean like this?"

Dream sighs, gulping roughly, "no."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have no idea what you mean, my king," I pout, making no attempt to give him what he so clearly wanted.

"Thrust into me," he sputters, "ride me like an eager jockey."

I snort, breaking into a laugh. I feel a rush shoot through me. My hands come up to my cheeks, "you heard that?" I giggle, "dirty, dirty boy, listening to my thoughts."

"Please," he strains, pulling at his binds again. He drops his head, huffing, "please move."

"Well, now that you're asking me so nicely," I muse, shifting on him, hands falling back on his chest. I begin to move up and down, slow and steady, emptying out and getting filled right back in with his stiffened length.

He moans in approval, eyes closing in pleasure. I sigh and lick my upturned lips, "better, baby?"

"Yes," he drags out a breath, "yes, thank you."

I groan at his words, moving a bit faster, "oh fuck, that's hot. Am I making you feel good?"

"Yes. Very good."

I whine, "fuck."

As I move on him, I savor his feel, how he's deliciously stretching me out and how my insides were sucking him in.

I momentarily slow when I hear a strained crackling sound in front of me. What the fuck was that?

It takes me about two seconds to realize it was my bracelet. Oh fuck.

I feel my inside flutter at the possible threat literally about to unravel before me. I lick my lips, "you enjoying yourself, Dream?"

He only moans in response.

"That's not an answer, darling?" I hum, slowing down all over again.

His eyes break open and his jaw tenses. I hear a fucking cracking sound. Is that my spear or my bracelet?

"Come on, use your words, Prince of Stories."

"I want you to move faster," he mutters gutturally.

What the fuck, is that my floor?

"Please?"

I dig into the side of his ribs and give in to his pleas. He moans and shuts his eyes again, but the strain on my bracelet does not waver. I watch as the object burns brighter.

I whimper when Dream begins to move beneath me. I tear my gaze from his wrists to his face, scowling at him, "behave."

To my surprise, he obeys, then whispers, "please kiss me."

I coo at his sentiment, feeling my core for him. I lean over and plant my lips on him. I moan at the feel of his tongue sneaking into my mouth.

I bring my grip onto the mattress and begin moving faster than I have yet. I whine and pull away from him to catch my breath, "giddy fucking up horsey."

It takes me a second to realize what I just fucking said.

The next moment, I grunt and find myself giggling. I crack myself up with how wholeheartedly stupid and dick delirious I've become. As I continue to laugh, I find myself slowing to prioritize my amusement while I screw my eyes shut.

I was soon very clear that it was a poor choice.

All at once, there was a loud snapping sound. The moment I opened my eyes, I behold a broken bracelet and a bent spear. Oh, yeah, and he unamused Dream of the Endless that was now slowly sitting up in front of me.

I release a final chuckle.

My sounds go dry as his hands take my hips and he brings his face closer to me, "I do not appreciate the fact you're so easily distracted while making love to me, my dear."

I grunt when he bucks into me. My arms wrap around his shoulders as my voice hikes up with his movements. I wrap my legs around his torso as I mumble halfheartedly, "we're not making love, we're... we're fucking."

He groans at that, moving in to kiss me feverously. I whine when his fingers rub at my core. Dream pulls away, forehead resting on mine, "you mock me so readily."

"Yeah," I huff, "well you deserve-"

I choke on my next words as I plummet back into my bed where Dream takes the reins fully, rocking into at a tempo that pleased him, and, well, me.

I mindlessly call his name, legs and arms wrapping around him as he moderately fucks into me. My bed creaks at his force.

It doesn't take long for him to speed up.

I whine and screw my eyes shut.

"Is this a good pace? Am I pleasing you?" he mutters against my neck.

I open at the sound of his words. He did not speak with the same taunting tone I had. He asks me this in genuine inquiry, genuinely intent on finding out if he was, in fact, pleasing me.

I pepper his jaw with kisses then nibble on his earlobe before replying, "yes, my sweet boy," I moan, "you can move a little faster if you want to."

"I want to," he quickly responds.

I sigh, "then faster, baby."

He moans and kisses me in response. His movements rip out a deep cry from deep within me as he hastens.

"That's it," I struggle, one hand digging into his unruly hair, pulling at it, "you're doing so good for me. So good."

The king growls against me, sucking at my neck, just below my jaw.

"Fuck," I sigh, "dulcis somnium meum."

My sweet dream.

He adjusts me beneath him, hands coming to thighs, squeezing the area as he presses deeper, "you feel so good around me."

My toes curl at his words and my skin breaks out in goosebumps at his hot breath.

"Pretiosum venatorem," Dream dictates 'my precious hunter,' sucking on the base of my throat, "such beautiful sounds."

My breath quickens with his actions. I roll my head back as my fingers dig into his spine.

"Dic quomodo sentio," he breathes against me, "quaeso."

Tell me how I make you feel... please.

"Good," I whimper, "great," I whine, "et stupri magna." So fucking great.

"Beautiful," he retorts, "so beautiful like this, so beautiful beneath me."

I feel myself coil up around him. He seems to feel it too, since his one hand leaves my thigh to rub at my pulsing heat.

He muses to me in Latin. He speaks poetry to me in my native tongue, praising my lips, my breath, my warmth, and how I was taking him so well.

I return his poetry with deep grunts and age old curses that would make the Roman deities shun me in sore displeasure.

And yet Somnia kisses me, practically eating up my vile words like honey and delivers me into pure adoration, pure fucking ecstasy.

I yelp when I break beneath him. I whine and rip at him, teeth digging into his shoulder, legs constricting around him tighter. The sensation is further intensified when I feel him release into me, pace now maddeningly fast, brutal, and delicious.

"Yes, Dream!" I call, helplessly spiraling under him. "Praise to the Dream Lord," I find myself whining in Latin as I ride out my high and quiver out all the breath that's left in my lungs.

He moans, kissing my cheek, replying in the same language, "I accept you adoration." He takes a moment before dragging out my name from his lips. It makes my stomach roll even further and my body tense tighter.

The Dream Lord takes my thighs into his hands again as he rides the both of us through our peaks, brutal yet caring all at once.

I melt into a bag of boneless flesh the next moment.

When he eventually relents, I catch my breath against his jaw, rubbing my nose on his skin affectionally.

Once he is stagnant above me, he turns to me and places kiss on my lips. After a moment, he pulls away and opens his mouth to speak. He doesn't get to however, as suddenly my bed creaks and all at once, one leg snaps and I squeal as we both slide roughly down to the floor.

I cling onto him for dear life as he pushes up against me, both keeping us from falling any further and poking into the root of my womanhood. My mouth releases a lewd cry in response.

I catch my breath as he lifts his head up and surveys the damage.

"Did you," I pant, "fucking break my bed?"

Dream turns to me, lips barely parting, "I..." he starts, "my apologies."