#his name being morpheus

[eru-iru]

ive been thinking about an smt au for bedman or like a world based on smt with all the demon summoning and having a comp... maybe bedman made a special version for himself hmm. or he's like stephen and thats how he got his powers... he can fight with his own powers but reserves it for those who are worthy to fight him. he mostly lets his demons fight for him, mainly the oneiroi with it's leader morpheus who he's closest to. i was thinking morpheus is the kind of demon that takes on the form of its summoners as to reflect them but still look different. in this morpheus is color 20 bedman definitely but ofc his true form is different. or maybe he has no form at all. only romeo and morpheus' brothers know ahaha he changes form when he fights based on what his opponent is weak to edit: also because of romeo becoming a multidimensional being he achieved transcendence

[just-french-me-up]

it was so hard to pick just one!! but:

10. "You don't know what you do to me."

Fandom : The Sandman

Pairing : Dream of the Endless x Fem!Nameless!Reader (3rd person, no (Y/N))

Rating : M/E (more suggestive than outright smut, but it has its moments)

Tags : Established relationship | PWP with feelings | 1.3K | Angst and comfort

The King of Dreams and Nightmares was a cold, distant creature. Or at least that was how he had been described to her on many occasions. Her own experience had proven those detractors wrong. There was nothing cold about Morpheus, except, perhaps, the spot he left in her bed once he returned to his duties, the memories of his hands and his mouth keeping her warm.

No, the Lord of the Dreaming was not the aloof being some liked to whisper about. Or so she thought.

Lately things had been... different. Upsetting was the word she would use, should she let herself think about it for too long. Ever since he let her in the heart of the Dreaming, she had barely even seen his shadow. At first, she told herself it was the order of things. King he was, and king he remained, with all the duties that came attached to the title. But then, there had been other instances. Avoiding her eyes. Barely looking at her when she stood in the same room as him. Exchanging but a few terse words whenever he failed to avoid her altogether.

It was no wonder to her, then, why the rumours about his nature were so grim. His indifference was not cold. It was glacial.

As a consequence, she spent most of her time alone, exploring a palace she had been let it without a guide. The library was by far the most comforting place she had found so far. She would spend her time there, browsing, marvelling at the sheer endlessness of it. She could have sworn that each night brought a new row of shelves which was not there the day before.

She had taken to reading every unwritten poetry book she could get her hands on. Words scribbled on a restaurant napkin. Half-written confessions. Cries for help. Songs of kinship. She was engulfed in her second volume of the night when footsteps echoed around her and, eventually, stopped.

"I trust you have found the Library to your liking."

Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice. That was more words than he had given her whole week. Standing a few feet away, Morpheus was looking at her, his impassive demeanour in keeping with the rest of his recent aloofness. The first few days, she'd been saddened by it. Now, her melancholy had soured, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

"I have," she said, trying and failing not to let resentment colour her words.

He looked, no, observed her from far. Whatever his thoughts were, his face let nothing through.

"I shall leave you to it."

Morpheus had almost turned his back when she snapped her book closed.

"Have I done something?" she asked, standing up from her seat.

He turned around to face her, his brow twitching slightly. His beauty was almost cruel.

"My love?"

"Have you grown tired of me? Do you regret bringing me here? You have barely looked at me since I set foot in the palace."

Something in his expression changed. The stoic mask slipped somewhat as he held her gaze. He did not look angry. He looked hurt.

"You don't know what you do to me."

His words hung in the air between them, almost like a confession. She could have sworn the light filtering through the windows of the library had dimmed.

"Everything here came from me," he continued, looking around them. "Every wall, every stone, every detail was but a thought at first. I made it all. I can feel all of it, for it was once part of me. Nowhere is it more true than here, in the palace. Its entirety could shift, with a single thought of mine."

He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes still gazing deeply into hers. A warm breeze blew against her, although no window was open.

"I did not anticipate how much my thoughts would... wander, once I brought you here."

Although she never averted her eyes, her vision was overwhelmed with images. She saw herself, her back against a bookshelf, hair tangled and cheeks flushed, Morpheus standing between her legs, her thighs held against each side of his hips. She could feel it all, the bite of the wood against her shoulder blades, the fingers digging into her flesh, his hot breath blowing against her neck, the warmth of him against her, inside her.

The vision was gone before she could draw another breath. Behind her, a full shelf of books fell on the floor, making her jump. When she turned back to Morpheus, the heat on her cheeks was no illusion. The room itself felt warmer, almost unbearably so.

"My thoughts rule the Dreaming," he continued, a slight rasp in his voice. "Your presence tends to make them more difficult control."

Another vision struck her. The bookshelf was gone, replaced by the table on her right. Her dress was a mess, fabric hanging from her shoulders, her skirts gathered at her waist. Her hand was lost in a mess of wild hair as Morpheus, knelt on the hardwood floor, worshipped at her altar. Another flick of his tongue overwhelmed her, making her thighs shiver with pleasure. A real, audible moan echoed the vision's, filling the silence of the library.

She slammed her hand against her mouth. Morpheus was closer now, within reach.

"Is it like this all the time?" she asked.

"Whenever you are in my presence," he confirmed.

An onslaught of images flickered before her eyes, mere glances into what she understood to be broader, more consuming fantasies. The feeling of wood against her knees and the salty taste of him. The sensation of soft sheets and his warm skin against her back. His fingers bringing her to completion. His tongue teasing hers.

The echoes of pleasure left her wanting, her breathing short and her knees weak. Morpheus seemed the farthest thing from indifferent now, his gaze studying her intently, as though coming up with other fantasies tailored to this very moment.

"Forgive me, my love," he murmured. "I have neglected you, trying to keep these thoughts from ruling me."

"Will it always be like this? Will you always keep away?"

A faint smile danced on his lips.

"No. I will master them soon. It is only a matter of time. I merely wish to keep my subject from experiencing them until I do. It would make carrying out my duties rather... embarrassing."

"I see. I did not know the Lord of the Dreaming could feel embarrassment."

"Some things are better left between the two us. I do not need the entire realm to know what we sound like in the throes of pleasure."

"Is that a possibility?"

"Very much so."

Morpheus ran a hand through her hair. The touch was accompanied by a phantom kiss in her neck, the hint of unseen teeth teasing her skin. How unfair it was that she could not retaliate. Then again, if she felt him this way, how much did he feel himself, the catalyst of every unconscious thought? The frustration of it had to be unbearable.

"I shall have it under my control soon," he assured her. "Do not deprive yourself of all the Dreaming has to offer in the meantime."

"I did not intend to. Morpheus?"

"Yes?"

She took his hand and kissed his palm, her lips purposefully insistent. He was warm against her, never cold. There was a shift in his eyes, and the light of the room dimmed further, almost plunging them in the darkness.

"Do not just show me, next time, yes?"

"I'm afraid we would need eons for me to put it all in practice, love of mine," he chuckled softly.

"We've got nothing but time."

send me a smutty prompt?

[ask-rachethabaster]

Everyone say one(1) nice thing about Rachel, Ethan and Al. Even you Nemesis.

Nemesis: what do you mean "even you Nemesis"?

Morpheus: In fairness, they're not too wrong.

Nemesis: Fuck you too then.

Hecate: Easy! Alabaster is one of the most stongest children I've ever had, Ethan is incredibly determined and Rachel is so strong for being able to handle all of this in such a short amount of time.

Morpheus: Alright... Rachel may annoy 90 percent of the time but i can't deny she is coping with these prophecies extremly well for someone so young. Ethan can be very cunning when necessary (a side I wish he let out more) and Alabaster does seem to care about his siblings quite a bit, especially for a son of Hecate.

Hecate: Pardon?

Nemesis: Well, Ethan is impressively selfess, Torrington knows what powers are more important to chase than others and Rachel has a lot of empathy for those around her.

[fulcrvm]

morpheus's new scrungly hairstyle is growing on me a little bit now that ive seen it in video. hmm

[weirdfishy]

headcanon/AU where morpheus only went and visited hob bc hob dreamed of him — like death convinced him to go see him, but he didn’t know when he should go, and the longer he stewed the more he thought hob was probably done with him. but then hob unknowingly drew morpheus into his dream where they were talking and laughing like proper friends (or, alternatively, hob had morpheus pressed against a wall) so dream was like yay he doesn’t hate me let’s go visit him :)

[radio-sepia]

maybe a little dream man. maybe not. i certainly do not care how you interpret it if you even will. ts just a funky drawing i had fun with

all that matters if you ask me

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── (✴) dream on dreaming !

nct dream sfw headcanon. fluff, comfort. library

jeno has an assigned place where his head rests: on your shoulder. with one leg intertwined between yours, there is no living space when sleeping with jeno. still in morpheus' arms (or his, you're not sure) you detach yourself from his firm grip to shift position; jeno simply can't sleep without overlapping your body, so he quickly rolls to your side to pull you to him, letting you be the one to curl up against his warm neck. the sudden move will take you out of lethargy, hearing him mumble your name softly while he's still in his dreams as if he's looking for you there too.

sleeping with haechan is one of your favorite things. he got the softest combo of blankets, pillows, and bed ever, and if that's not enough, then you have your own body heater to hug. he's so warm and so cozy; you just have to get used to being the big spoon. he likes to crush you when he sleeps with you. placing his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeats, he has this habit of making sounds when he falls asleep while you playing with his hair. he purrs in his sleep and a grin blooms on his lips, and it's the last thing you register in your memory before joining him in the rem.

you've noticed that mark dreams in korean. it's a sweet and tender observation; he often smiles and talks in his sleep, his arms wrapping you into his embrace while he's lost in the clouds. you like to fall asleep watching his expressions change and finally relax when he says a word you do understand the meaning of in his language: honey. you hum drowsily as you begin to fall and fall, feeling him wake up fleetingly to snuggle up more against you and whisper that he loves you.

jisung has the sweet quirk of talking while asleep. and those conversations are so wholesome and dearest to you. he talks about his day, about his friends, his family. it's silly late-night conversations that in occasions, it's hard not to chuckle. you like to hear him tell you little secrets, sometimes you let him go on a little longer because that's when he talks about this girl he's in love with. your heart threatens to explode when he says your name so tender, snuggling closer to you before he goes back to sleep, because even when he's dreaming, you're there with him.

even though renjun is sleepy to death, he insists on telling you everything while you weren't with him. you usually have better sleep endurance than him, but you know that he is an innate stubborn, he will never go to sleep before you, so your fingers circle his forehead as you feel his tongue getting heavier and heavier, unable to formulate sentences without slurring the words and cutting them halfway, until you see him smile right before saying your name softly, finally realizing your victorious attempt to put him to sleep.

jaemin's been having a light sleep lately and any movement or sound you make causes him to shed sleep and give you a wary look. his heart skip a beat when his hands reach out and don't bump into you to pull you to him, calling your name in the dark. he finds you drinking a glass of water in the kitchen and calms down; for a moment he thinks you've left. he can't help it, he's afraid you'll not be there when he wakes up. so you comfort him, and promise him you won't leave. so that night, he falls into a deep sleep.

for chenle, it's difficult for him to admit that he's fallen asleep. his eyes flutter as he tries to stay awake because he likes to hear you talk, but your voice gradually begins to lower making him lose ground against sleep. he also, has a habit of lying that he didn't fall asleep while you were talking. and it doesn't matter if you don't make noise, or if you stay still in hopes for him to have sweet dreams, he always battles against it until you start to get drowsy too, listening to you and the soft babble until you give in and draw him to you, asking him to meet you in his dreams.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

the sandman but i've never read or watched it

Hello this is the Good Omens Mascot and I am currently being kidnapped again. Into the Sandman fandom. Forcibly. Brutally. By several people. There will be bloodshed. There will be livestreams, probably, when I watch the show. My struggle is Endless and I can only Dream of an escape (I'm hilarious). But before I watch it, I'm legally obligated to make this post. Soooo... here goes, based on like two edits on YT I watched:

@neil-gaiman created it. Of this at least I am sure.

There is Dream/Morpheus, and he is a sad wet cat of a man.

He has a sister Delirium, and apparently I remind everyone of her. This concerns me. Also, she used to be Delight.

I am not sure what these people are but they are Endless.

I'll tell you what's Endless, it's my gayness, because MY GOD, Dream is beautiful.

The sad wet cat of a man has a friend (/homoerotic) named Hob.

Hob is also a sad wet cat of a man.

Dream has a raven. The raven dies.

Someone is blamed. But Dream says it's his own fault.

Dream's family thinks he's deserted them. Dream also thinks this is his own fault.

I'm started to think Dream maybe has some repressed trauma.

Despair and Desire look gay for each other. Or they're siblings. Idk. Despair was in Dead Boy Detectives. That I do know, because FUCK YEAH DBDA.

Death exists, and she's kind. I think. She was also in DBDA.

It's gay. This I am assured of.

What's gay? Who's gay? I don't fucking know. But it's gay.

Did I mention I'm gay? Because god I'm now a sucker for yet another sad pathetic wet cat of a twink.

There's someone with glasses who tells Dream stuff. idk who they are but they seem important. So uh. They exist.

Dream cares a lot. But he Hides It Behind A Facade.

Did I mention he's fucking pretty?

...Please don't kill me Sandman fandom I was kidnapped here I swear I'm innocent.

[dragon-kazansky]

Heart of the Dreaming

Morpheus x Female Reader

Soulmate AU

You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.

{Masterlist}

{Next Chapter}

Chapter One - See you in my dreams

☆☆☆

1916 - 11 years old

Tonight was the night.

Tonight was the night your father was going to summon Death and try and bring your older brother back.

You were sitting in your room, on the edge of the bed, hands restlessly placed in your lap as you can hear the clock ticking away. You were nervous. Of course you were. This plan was crazy, but your father was crazy enough to go through with this.

Of course you missed your brother. He was better than you and Alex in every way, but he loved you both. Rodrick certainly loved him better than his other children. When he died, your father seemed to only hate you even more.

You could hear everyone bustling about the house. The book your father had been waiting for had arrived. Tonight he would attempt the impossible. At least, impossible by your standards.

No one could capture Death.

Death was inevitable and came for everyone. Even your brother. That was just the truth of it. There was not a spell in the world that could being him back.

You were not allowed to leave your room, despite the fact Alex, who was younger than you, was permitted to watch. It didn't seem fair. Even if you believed the matter to be impossible, why couldn't you witness the attempt?

At some point, the house grows quiet. You sit there with nothing but the sound of your soft breathing to keep you company. Your eyes focused on the door.

The silence was becoming deafening.

Had they done it?

You climb off your bed and open your door. At first, you don't see or hear anyone. The house seemed empty, but after a few more moments, you can hear voices and footsteps. You stand in the doorway of your bedroom and watch as many of your father's men go past talking too quickly for you to understand what they're saying.

You look down the hall and see your father walking to his study, a peculiar item in his hand. Alex comes into view and looks at you for a moment. You want to go over and ask what happened, but his name gets called and he hurries off.

A sense of something bad sets in your bones.

☆☆☆

You're in bed when you hear knocking on your door. It's quiet and hesitant, as if the other person wasn't supposed to be here. You climb out of bed and head to the door, opening it slightly. You see Alex standing there.

Alex comes into your room and closes the door behind him quickly. He looks at you with big eyes, worry embedded in them.

"What happened?" You ask him.

Alex walks over to your bed and takes a seat. He looks down at his slippers. "I think he did it."

"He did?" You look at Alex with wide eyes.

"Well... there's something down there..." Alex tells you, voice quiet. You swallow nervously.

Something.

"Death?"

Alex shakes his head. "No... I don't think so. I heard father talking to someone in his office, but I couldn't hear everything."

"What did you hear?" You ask, eager to know what had happened.

"Something about dreams."

"Dreams?" You had no idea what that meant.

Alex simply shrugged and looked up at you. "I'm afraid."

"Will it hurt us?"

"I don't know... I hope not. I didn't get to look at it for very long."

Silence fell between you both. You weren't sure what else to ask. All you knew was that your father had successfully caught something down in the basement, and you were too scared to even dig deeper.

Alex left your room, leaving you more questions than answers. However, for now, it felt better to leave it like that.

☆☆☆

1926 - 21 years old

Rodrick never mentioned the demon in his basement. You never asked about it, no matter how curious you got. You had heard the whispers. Everyone called it a demon, which frightened you even more.

You had done your utmost to forget about the thing in the basement. The stories were enough to put you off going down there. Even the people in town talked about Rodrick's demon.

He became something of a celebrity.

However, the world was suffering.

Dreams. Alex had told you Rodrick and his stranger in the office had spoken about dreams. As it turned out, some people could no longer sleep, some couldn't ever wake up. Dreams became a thing of tale, none existent.

Except for the ones you had been having.

You hadn't told anyone. Not even Alex. Your dreams were yours. Your secret. Your strange mysterious secret.

You dream of a man.

It's dark, but you can see him. He's sitting there, naked. He is expressionless. He never speaks. He just sits there with his legs up, arms around his knees, and staring forward.

You don't know his name.

Every night, you see him in your dreams. He seems to be trapped. Unable to go anywhere. You wonder if he's hungry and cold. He must be.

"Who are you?"

You always wake up right after that.

Every night, he's there in your dreams. It's strangely comforting. He's your secret. You just wish you knew who he was.

As you leave your room today, you see Alex leaving the office with a shotgun in hand. You frown as you look at him, catching a glimpse of your father in the office.

"What are you doing?" You ask him.

"I'm going to shoot a bird." Alex responds, though not so happily.

You stare at him hard. "A bird?"

"A raven," Alex says.

"Huh?"

"I'm off to kill his raven."

"Who's raven?"

Alex looked at you with an empty stare. He clutches the shotgun in his fist tight. Alex knew you had never seen the man in the basement. Rodrick had kept it that way. He had always said you were more trouble than you were worth.

"The thing in the basement."

Alex didn't say anything more as he left the house. You were confused by everything. Nothing made any sense to you.

You wanted to know what your father was keeping down there. Yet, fear consumed you. Was it dangerous?

Why did it have a raven? That confused the most.

It was half an hour later when you heard a gunshot. You had been in your room, staying out of the way as usual. The sound echoed through the house and scared you. You rushed to the door and looked down the hall. Alex and your father emerged from the basement. Alex looked lost.

You wanted to go over and ask what had happened, but Rodrick spots you watching and you retreat into your room.

☆☆☆

A few days go by where you don't see much of Rodrick or Alex. You do your best to avoid them as much as possible. Which was probably for the best as far as Rodrick was concerned.

Ethel, your father's mistress, was pregnant. He didn't want it. Of course he didn't.

Having so much time to yourself gave you time to think. Your dreams were consistent. Every night, you saw the naked man in his glass prison. Just sitting there, waiting.

Waiting for what? You did not know.

However, you wanted to help him. You wanted to understand him. You just didn't know who he was, or where he was.

That night, Ethel ran away. While you were tucked up in your bed sleeping, visiting your dream man, Ethel had run away with the tools, and some money from Rodrick's safe.

She was gone.

Rodrick was furious.

From what you heard, he tried to bargain with the being in the basement. When he got no response, Rodrick turned his anger to Alex. Had heard the yelling. You had wanted to go down there and see what was happening, but the guard at the door was stopping you.

That's when it happened.

Alex pushed Rodrick, and your father hit his head quite badly. He did not get up again.

The funeral was a week later.

☆☆☆

1931 - 25 years old

The house was too quiet these days. Alex spent most of his time avoiding you. You tried to occupy yourself with your hobbies, but there was a voice in the back of your head nagging at you.

The basement.

It was still guarded. Alex kept it that way. However, you knew times when the door wasn't guarded. There wasn't anyone there 24/7. Some of the guards like to slack off.

You had decided. You were going to go down there. After all this time, you wanted to know what your father had captured that day. You wanted to know the reason your father had been so successful and popular with people in town.

You wanted to know why things were the way they were.

You waited. The guard left as usual. He always disappeared for 15 minutes on his shifts. 30 if he thought he could get away with being away that long. This was your chance to get down there.

You were quiet as you moved down the hall. You weren't sure exactly where Alex was at this time of night. You needed to be careful. You double-checked to make sure no one was around and unlocked the door to the basement. You had been planning this for weeks. You knew the codes and the schedules for the guards. You knew someone else would normally be down there, but never at this time of night. That's why the guard thought he could get away with disappearing for so long.

You looked down the dark stairs and took a moment before going through with your plan. Finally, you would see what was down there.

You descend the stairs.

It was dark. Lighting was kept to a minimum, it seemed. You were careful as you took each step and soon enough found yourself at the bottom.

What you saw was not what you expected.

You slowly reach out and open the gate, taking in the sight before you. A large glass globe surrounded by the summoning circle your father had made years ago. Inside the globe was a man.

A man.

A very familiar man.

You feel like all air from your lungs is stolen from you as you stare at him. Your dream man. There he was! Naked and curled up by himself inside his prison.

All this time, you were dreaming of the man in the basement. You find yourself stepping a little closer, not sure what to do. Nothing made sense. This was impossible. How can you be dreaming about this man? And why is he trapped like this?

Who is he?

Sensing your presence, he looks up. In those next few seconds, several things happen. Your eyes connect with his, and you find yourself lost in them. A searing pain crosses your wrist, and you gasp loudly, cradling your hand. You drop your gaze from him to look at the red scar on your wrist. When you look back up, he's cradling his own hand but doesn't seem to be in pain like you.

You stare at him.

He stares at you.

"Who are you?" You ask.

The man in the globe moves slowly, leaning forward slightly. He's keeping himself covered, but he's still moving toward the glass. With one hand, he reaches out, hand dressed against the glass of his prison.

You feel strange. At ease. It was like he was trying to calm you from within his prison.

"Who are you?" You ask again.

You watch as he part his lips, prepared to speak, but a voice behind you speaks instead, leaving you in shock and embarrassment for getting caught in the basement.

"What are you doing down here?" Alex asks.

You frown. "I came to see what was down here! You can't keep me in the dark forever."

Alex pulls you behind him as he looks at the man in the cage. "You have to stay away from him."

"Alex--"

"No! He's dangerous. I think..."

You push past Alex and stand between him and the other man. You glare at your brother. Alex looks at you with mixed confused and disappointment.

"Who is he? What is he?"

Alex says your name.

"No! Tell me. What is all this? What did father do?"

Alex clenches his fist at his side and takes a deep breath. "You need to leave. Get out of here."

"Why is there a man trapped in the basement, Alex?"

Alex loses his patience with you and lunges forward, grabbing your arm tightly. You try to fight him off, but he wraps both his arms around you, restraining your arms.

"Alex! Let go of me!"

"You shouldn't have come down here," he says angrily.

From within his prison, Morpheus stands. He doesn't like what he's seeing. You. You had been living in this house all along, and he had no idea. Now you were here, you had come to see him, and you were being dragged out again.

Alex called for help, and two people came running. Paul and the guard should have been on duty. Morpheus leans against the glass with both hands as he watches Alex demand you get removed from the basement. The two men take hold of you and start dragging you back upstairs, all the while you're ahouing at Alex.

Alex turns and looks at him.

"Don't you ever speak to her. Don't you ever do anything to her." Alex demands. "She was never supposed to see you..."

Alex leaves.

Morpheus sinks back down in his prison and curls up again. His hands ball into fists as he stares ahead of him.

His soulmate had been here all along.

He needed to get out.

He needed to save you from this house.

He turns his hand over and looks at his wrist. A small scar in the shape of a star. He had had it forever. He ran his thumb over it. He knew from the moment he looked at you, from the moment you received your scar, that you were his soulmate.

It was unheard of for an Endless to have such a thing, but Dream had always been unique. If anyone wasn't going to be granted a partner for eternity, it was going to be him.

Not that he was actively looking. Morpheus had had lovers before, certainly, but knowing you're right there above him, it changes things.

You were real.

They only let go of you once you're in your room. Alex closes the door on you and you hear him lock you in. You bang against the door furiously and then stop, sobbing as you sink to the floor.

None of this was making any sense to you.

Did Alex know something?

Who was that man?

And why did your wrist still burn?

☆☆☆

@deniixlovezelda - @missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @meganlpie - @thoughtsfromlayla - @ladyjbrekker

@mwaaaaaugh - @bluespecs14 - @intothesoul - @lady-violet - @navs-bhat - @krahk - @oldsoulmagic

@rubyrose2014 - @lorkai - @roxytheimmortal - @thescarletwitchjobro - @intothesoul - @gemini-mama - @whotperlinda

@dreamingblueberries - @the-shadow-of-aurora - @novavida - @blackgirlmagicforever

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! I saw your Percy Jackson asks where open and I wanted to send in a request! How would Percy react to a fem reader who is the child of Morpheus the God of dreams? Like I imagine being a child to the God of dreams would make one fall asleep randomly when they are still new to their powers, so how would the scenario play out if perhaps one day reader falls asleep on him during a movie night? Would he stay as still as possible as to not wake her up or would he do something else like gently wake her up/move her? Hopefully I made this detatiled enough but in anyway thank you!!

You were just halfway from dozing off when Percy’s voice brought you from the cusp of a deep sleep to ask:

‘Does your dad look like-‘

‘For the last time Percy no, my dad doesn’t look like Tom Sturridge from The Sandman.’ You replied before he could even finish his question. It wasn’t the first time he asked this question after watching the Netflix show ironically about a man who bore the same name as your godly father, Morpheus, the god of dreams; Something that you now had a bone to pick with Neil Gaiman over.

‘Sooo he doesn’t blow golden sand at people’s faces to make them fall asleep?’ Percy continued to ask but at this point you knew that he was only doing this just to get a rise out of you and also to keep you from falling asleep again.

‘No-will you pack it in, in trying to get some rest from today.’ You said as you lightly smack his arm whilst readjusting your head onto his shoulder for more comfort, already feeling the lull of sleep beckoning you to fall further when Percy once again spoke up.

‘But you already do enough sleeping as it is!’ He cried but tried his hardest not to move too much in fear of agitating you, knowing firsthand how much you hated your sleep being disrupted. ‘And I can’t help that!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’ve been falling asleep at random ever since Morpheus claimed me as his own. It’s almost as though I’ve suddenly developed narcolepsy or something.’ You were still getting use to your powers that for some reason would backfire now and then, causing you to have bouts of almost narcoleptic episodes where you could just be talking to someone then boom; there you were, fast asleep in the strawberry fields or on the sandy dunes of the lake as though it were the most comfortable place known to man.

It worried to everyone to begin with but upon being claimed, it started to make a lot more sense that whenever you did spontaneously fall asleep, it was easier to be accommodated for; letting you sleep because you were mad cranky when woken prematurely. Connor and Travis learnt that the hard way when for an entire week their dreams consisted of being chased by a very angry humanoid goose, as if being chased by a regular goose wasn’t scary enough. Just one of the few perks of being the child of the god who could morph dreams and enter them however he saw fit.

The subject of your tendency to fall asleep at random was soon dropped entirely as you and Percy went back to watching the movie that was already well within it’s third and final act. Well Percy was, you on the other hand…were fast asleep on his shoulder, uncaring of the crook in the neck that you were surly developing from your uncomfortable position. Percy doesn’t notice until he goes to look at you to make a joke on a certain scene but stopped and the words died on his lips as he stared at you adoringly. ‘Why am I not surprised that you’ve fell asleep. Again.’ He says softly to himself as he watched how your grip on his arm would occasionally tighten as though your dream had taken a tonal shift, only to loosen up and relax not a moment after.

Not that I needed my arm or my shoulder anyways. Percy thought to himself as he tried his absolute hardest to stay still for your benefit but he might as well have asked Medusa to make him into stone instead because he was doing such a shit job at not moving at all. It was almost as if all his limbs had minds of their own as they’d move or his fingers would tap against his thigh impatiently as the movie ended and the credits began to appear on screen; With the remote too far for him to reach without waking you up and nothing else to occupy his restless mind, Percy felt as though he was in his own personal hell and heaven, or fields of punishment and Elysium.

For one, he got to admire you as you slept, completely at peace and safe within his presence as you would oftentimes shuffle further into him, making noises of discontent when you thought you felt him move away and tightening your grip; Something he found undeniably adorable as he watched the twitches in your face and tries to guess what kind of dream you were having based off them. Secondly he desperately wanted to move, his brain was telling him to move, but Percy would rather not risk having an angry human sized goose chasing him in his dreams for the next week because he accidentally woke you prematurely from your nap. He knows you wouldn’t do that but in cases like these, it he’d know it be better to be safe and sure then expect special treatment; which upon retrospect sounded a lot worse then getting chased by a human sized goose.

So Percy allows himself the fate of being your makeshift pillow, though not before pressing a kiss to your head, wishing you the sweetest of dreams before inevitably falling asleep himself as he rested his head atop of yours, crook in his neck be damned.

[just-french-me-up]

*cracks knuckles* I am dying for some dream x reader! From the second link: ❛ show me how much you missed me. ❜?

Rating : Smut | E ( as in ExcusE mE 👀👀)

Pairing : Dream x Fem!Nameless!Reader (3rd person, no (Y/N))

Tags : Established relationship | PWP with feelings | 1.7K

Author's notes : This prompt kinda got away from me and got way smuttier than expected. Oh well... Enjoy! Feel free to yell at me afterwards (please do yell in my general direction)

There was a soft knock on the door. She smiled to herself as she picked her earrings from the vanity and turned towards the full-length mirror. The Lord of the Dreaming might not need or ask for permission to enter dreamers' most intimate thoughts, but he did make a point of announcing himself around his palace. Even if it meant knocking on the doors of his own chambers.

"Come in."

She barely had time to put on one earring that Morpheus' reflection had joined hers in the mirror, leaving the door untouched. She briefly looked over her shoulder, greeting him with a warm smile.

"Welcome home, beloved. How was your sister?"

Dream stood behind her, his dark frame envelopping hers in the mirror.

"She is well. I am to give you her fondest regards," he said, absently.

His mind seemed elsewhere. As she slipped on the second earring, she noticed his gaze in the reflection, travelling up and down her body, as one gazes at art. A quiet smile danced on his lips. Gods she'd missed him.

"Perhaps I should leave more often if you are to greet me like this when I return."

He planted a kiss on her shoulder, settling his hands on each side of her waist, feeling the fabric of her dress, one of his creation, one she knew he felt particularly proud of. She melted into his touch, allowing her back to rest against his chest.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She gave out a small sigh. He wouldn't be pleased, but there was no dancing around it.

"I'm afraid we've received an invitation."

Dream's reflection frowned slightly.

"An invitation? From whom?"

"Desire."

An expected displeased groan rolled out of his throat.

"They said the Threshold was ours to visit whenever you would be available," she added, only worsening his sullen expression.

"Must we?" he complained.

"It would be impolite to refuse, unfortunately. We don't need more tension between you and your sibling than already exists."

Morpheus rolled his eyes and gave her shoulder another, though significantly more frustrated, kiss.

"I have barely set foot in the Dreaming!" he protested against her skin. "Am I to obey my sibling's every whim now? I have my kingdom to attend to! And you! I don't wish to share your company with anyone else just yet!"

His annoyed gaze met her eyes in the mirror. She rested her hands on top of his, in a comforting touch. She couldn't help but find him endearing in his discontent. And terribly handsome.

"I missed you," he grumbled, kissing the top of her nape. His breath sent a warm shiver down her spine, leaving her skin yearning for more.

"Oh, have you now?"

"Immensely."

Oh just to hear him say it... She couldn't hold back the resquest burning her lips.

"Show me then."

Their eyes met again, Dream's now alight with a mixture of surprise and amusement. Gone was his disgruntled pout, as it was quickly replaced by the hint of a playful smile.

"Pardon me?"

"Show me how much you missed me," she repeated, holding his gaze intently through the mirror.

At once, Dream tightened his hold against her waist, his hands shifting to her hips as he pulled her firmly against him.

"It is a dangerous game you're playing, love of mine," he murmured in her ear, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Is it?" she teased, a familiar warmth flooding through her at his touch. His gaze had been reverent before, but it had shifted to something darker. Hungrier. She could feel her heartbeat racing from its intensity alone.

"It would make us late," he reminded her, though he did not sound concerned in the slightest. Eager was more accurate. "Awfully late."

"Surely you haven't missed me this much." She could feel her throat getting dry with every word. The warm breath blowing against her neck was the sweetest of torments.

"I shall prove you wrong, then."

Promptly, Dream wrapped his arm around her waist, leading her to the nearest piece of furniture he could find. She found herself pressed against his desk, before he lifted her up on it. Relieved sighs escaped them both as their lips met, quickly replaced by more feverish sounds, each kiss more demanding than the next.

Her fists closed around the lapel of his coat, tugging him closer. There was a need within her, an urge to feel him, to reacquaint herself with the touch and the taste of him. Morpheus responded in kind. His hands hooked behind her knees, he pulled her hard against him, drawing her gasp from her.

"I once asked you what your thoughts were when we were apart, remember? he whispered against her lips.

As he spoke, one of his hands travelled up her thigh, fingers scorching her skin, while the other cupped her cheek. He ran his thumb over her lower lip, the softness of it clashing with the fierce kisses he'd offered her just a second ago. Short of breath, her head spinning, she hummed in response.

"Shall I tell you mine?"

His fingertips danced on her thigh, only adding to the heat radiating from her. She could feel him hard against her, his desire as obvious as her own.

"Please do."

The small smile he gave her was nothing short of devilish. There was power in his words, he knew it. They could undo her as well as his hands could. No, better. For his words would haunt her, catching her off guard days later, leaving her as flustered as she had been when she first heard them. As flustered as she was now.

"When my mind wanders it always finds you," he whispered, his breath dripping with lust. "Visions of you. Your body underneath mine." His hips rolled against hers at an excruciatingly slow pace, enough for her to feel all of him through his clothes. "I can almost feel you when I picture you writhing against me, your pleasure almost unbearable. You look exquisite when you surrender to it."

He stole a kiss on her lips, the hint of his teeth accentuating her already laboured breathing. Her frantic heartbeat echoed furiously in every part of her as he leaned forward, pressing his mouth against her ear.

"You feel so heavenly when you're about to come, my love. I could lose myself in the memory of it all day long. Picturing how helpless you look when your trembling body is about to give."

A quiet moan answered his words, the heat of them matching the one consuming her flesh little by little.

"Morpheus..."

"My love?" his affected innocent tone was as frustrating as it was alluring.

"I want you to show me," she panted. "Make me feel it. All of it."

She was lifted off the desk before she could realise it. When her back hit the mattress of their bed, all the fabric keeping them apart had vanished, leaving their skins burning against each other, their heaving chests meeting with every breath.

Dream's hands explored her body, his fingertips running over the curve of her breasts, brushing over the tip of her hardened nipples before continuing their journey to draw her waist and hips. She wrapped her legs around him, waiting for him to push inside her, but Dream decided otherwise. Gently, he turned her over on the bed, her stomach against the sheets.

"I wanted to look at you," she protested.

"You will, I promise," he reassured her, pressing multiple kisses against her shoulder blades.

Her frustration was forgotten as she felt the head of his cock press against her entrance. His hands holding her hips, he pushed slowly inside her, a hoarse sigh companying his thrust. She pressed her forehead against the mattress, welcoming the sensation with a pleased hum of her own.

"Look up my love."

She forgot to listen. Lost in the feeling of him, she kept her face down, focusing on the pleasure growing inside her with every measured thrust. She felt his skin against her back as he leaned forward. One of his hands left her hip to tip her chin up gently. When she looked up, her own eyes stared back at her.

"You wanted to see how much I've missed you," Dream breathed heavily against her, his eyes burning into hers through the reflection of the many mirrors now surrounding the bed. "Let me show it to you."

It was the strangest thing, seeing the effect he had on her. How flushed her cheeks were. How her body responded to his. How arousing the sight of her own pleasure was. Dream quickened his pace, his eyes hardly ever leaving her, only closing them when the sensation of her got too much to bear. He threw his head back once, exposing his neck, breaking out a deliciously low moan, and she thought pleasure would overtake her at the sheer sight of him.

"Look at you," he told her breathlessly. Each thrust was harder than the next, getting her closer to her climax. "How could I not miss you when you look at me like this?"

She moaned loudly into the sheets, unable to hold his adoring gaze. Any second now, she could feel it. Her heart was about to burst out of her chest. A series of warm, languid kisses travelled down her back, making her whole body shiver.

"Let me see you," he said, the pleasure in his voice making it awfully close to a plea. "I want to see you when you come."

It took all of her strength to look up and meet her reflection. He was right. She did look helpless, alluringly so. All it took was another thrust and she came undone, her eyes drowning in his. Listless, she couldn't help but watch as pleasure washed over Morpheus soon after, his lips parted in another wanton sound she couldn't get enough of.

Panting heavily, they both fell back onto the mattress, bodies numb and heads filled with stars.

"Perhaps you should leave more often indeed," she chuckled, her chest struggling to keep up. "Just enough for you to miss me."

Dream pulled her closer, removing a few strands of wild hair from her face.

"Perhaps I should."

They stayed like this for moment, body against body, trading gentle touches until their breaths steadied somewhat.

"We should go," she reminded him.

"I am aware."

She tried to sit up, but his arm kept her close.

"One more minute. Please."

One minute turned to two. Then three. Then, lulled against his chest, cloaked in their shared warmth, numbers ceased to exist. As did the rest.

AO3 link

[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. 

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This was my poor attempt at understanding physics and trying to personify a concept like a singularity

♡ Yours, Layla

[rinniessance]

BEST FRIEND'S GIRL ༊*·˚ - suguru geto x f!reader

nothing has ever been tempting enough for suguru geto to stab his best friend in the back - until you.

꒰ warnings: nsfw - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. cheating, kind of manipulation, kind of dubcon, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, so so many pet names and name calling (calls you slut once), choking, dacraphyllia, spit, overstimulation, he doesn't pull out when you ask. satoru is toxic and suguru is a creep and a very bad friend in this one ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.6k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am christening my new blog with this piece of absolute filth .ᐟ.ᐟ ꒱

being satoru gojo’s best friend is easy, it always has been. ever since suguru and satoru met in the elementary school, they've been inseparable, joint at the hip whenever they went. at times, no words needed to be exchanged between the two, a glance was enough for the duo to understand one another without missing a beat. and they always shared everything (and by everything, suguru truly means everything – his camera roll is a sin to be discovered) – that, until you came along.

geto remembers clear as day when gojo introduced you as his new girlfriend – he had to make sure he read the message he received correctly because when does satoru ever start a relationship without mentioning it to him before anyone else? suguru scoffs at his phone screen when he reads a text from gojo that he’s bringing “his new girl” to the party. “i think this one is special” reads his next message, and suguru laughs darkly. how many satoru’s special girls has he met already?

but when he sees you for the first time, oh when he sees you, all pieces of the puzzle come together. all of a sudden, satoru’s decision to keep you all to himself until he absolutely had to reveal you to the world makes perfect sense.

suguru thinks he’s never met as anyone as bewitching as you are, you have captivated him whole. the very moment your big doe eyes turned into tiny crescent moons when you smiled at him and extended your hand for a greeting is forever stitched into his brain, weaved into the crevices of his mind: it’s the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up and the last memory he replays before he goes to sleep. even when geto slips into the realm of morpheus, his dreams are still full of you. damn your strawberry lipgloss, your citrus scented perfume and your tiny pink dresses that leave so little to imagination. the pants suguru has to wear when he knows satoru’s bringing you along are getting wider and wider – to his embarrassment, it’s getting extremely difficult to hide his boner whenever you (unintentionally) bat your eyelashes at him.

(he had to jerk himself off in gojo’s bathroom once when he came over for a movie night – you were wearing your boyfriend’s t-shirt and he couldn’t stop imagining what his clothes would look like on your body. that thought alone was almost enough to making him cum.)

thoughts of you torment his every waking moment – he checks your instagram every hour for any updates and stalks your old posts in the hopes he will dream of your angelic face again; he makes plans with satoru under the pretense he is bored and has nothing better to do just to shamelessly gawk at you the whole time; and he feels like he hits the jackpot every time you laugh at his stupid jokes.

once in a while, the realization that he’s down bad for his best friend’s girlfriend hits him like a tidal wave – he can feel it coming, see the rising signs of the shame foaming up somewhere deep in the darkest corners of the ocean that is his heart. and when it finally washes over him, he feels himself drowning in the whirlpool of emotions he is usually too tired to deal with.

suguru knows exactly what you see in satoru – of course he does. his best friend is handsome, rich, popular; despite what others might say, he is a great conversationalist, and he will never give you a chance to get bored of him. geto is sure his best friend only showed his best parts when you started dating – that is why he is twice delighted when you get to experience the withdrawal symptoms as a result of satoru gojo’s absence. geto knows this game by heart – satoru gets a girl hooked, spoils her with attention and then suddenly becomes withdrawn. “it intensifies the feelings”, he usually says. special girl his ass. geto doesn’t complain though. instead, he works on an opportunity to create a rift between you two because he knows he can treat you so much better.

suguru gives you his number (“just in case you ever need to know where satoru is”), and casually starts texting you from time to time. it’s always simple topics: asking if you’ve heard back from satoru, saying he hasn’t been responding to geto’s texts (when he knows perfectly well he spoke with the white haired man that morning); wondering if the two of you have any plans later this week (he knows you don’t – his best friend has been on a successful streak of being hot and cold with you for the past couple of weeks); making sure everything’s okay between you two. he puts invisible effort into appearing to you as a concerned friend, and it pays off when you finally start texting him first. geto doesn’t know if it’s out of loneliness or sheer desperation – what he knows is that he is one step closer to tasting what satoru has been too dumb to properly treasure all this time.

you call suguru out of the blue on a saturday night. him and satoru decided to throw a party, and he is currently smoking his second cigarette, trying not to stare too much at the back of his best friend’s head while he is flirting with a girl he is sure to forget ten minutes later. why does gojo even bother when he has you waiting for him at home? geto looks at your display name in a slight surprise – the two of you have been getting closer but this is the first time you called.

“hello?”

“hi suguru… uhm…” he hears a quite sniffle on the other end of the phone line. you have been crying. “sorry to bother you but would you happen to know where satoru is? he has not been answering my calls and texts, and i am just getting worried.”

of course he knows where his best friend is – not even 4 feet away from him, having the time of his life. but geto chases the opportunity when he sees one, and he realizes this might be the chance he’s been waiting for.

“no, i don’t, i’m sorry. but if you’d like, i can come over and we can wait for him? if you’re feeling up to having some company.”

the silence ensues, and suguru thinks that maybe he overestimated the level of comfort you feel with him. he is about to apologize when you softly speak up again.

“yeah, i think i’d like that.”

“okay, i’ll be there in 30.”

he gives satoru a quick excuse as to why he has to leave – white-haired man doesn’t even blink an eye and just yells at him to be safe. but safe is the last thing he is planning to be today. suguru has never wished for the ability to teleport more than he did now because driving to your place takes entirely too long. but, as promised, he is finally standing in front of your door 30 minutes later. his hands are shaking from the adrenaline when he knocks – your ethereal features bless him mere seconds later.

“hi,” you whisper almost breathlessly.

“hello again,” geto responds, and you shuffle to the side to let him inside. he’s been to your house before, namely for the horror movie nights where he can pretend he is sitting too close to you entirely for platonic reasons, in the “this movie is so scary i need to hold someone” type of way. yet, it feels completely different when your boyfriend is not here.

“thank you for coming. i hope i didn’t distract you from anything important but…” he can see the beads of tears pool in the corner of your eyes, and fuck, he would be lying if he said his pants didn’t feel too tight for this situation. oh how he would like to make you cry for entirely different reasons, “satoru has not been responding to me and it’s getting a little too much to bear. as his friend, i appreciate your company.”

“anytime,” suguru breathes out – his brain is short circuiting and he is unable to string more than two words together. however, you don’t notice his slipping composure as you walk back to your couch and extend geto an invitation to sit beside you.

the silence only stretches for a few seconds as you press play on some movie. raven-haired man was about to say something to break the silence but stops his word vomit when he hears your soft sniffling. suguru decides this opportunity will not present itself again – he wordlessly opens his arms and gestures you to come for a hug. you seem unsure at first but then giggle quietly and carefully curl yourself into him.

geto has never been this close to you before – he can smell the scent of your shampoo; he can feel the softness of your hair and the smoothness of your skin where he is able to touch you; he can soak in the warmth your body is offering him right now. and all of that because satoru thinks he is too good to lose all of this.

“you know,” geto slowly starts, “maybe if he makes you feel this way, he is not a very good boyfriend.”

suguru knows he is playing with fire – but he would be a fool to not at least try.

“it’s not always too bad,” you respond back. there is an apprehension in your voice, doubt, maybe even little bit of fear. he knows this script by heart: you, pretending like nothing’s wrong by trying to concentrate on all the good memories gojo gifted you with, and him, always sealing the arguments with iron-hot kisses.

“yeah, i know. but don’t you think him making you feel this way is shitty enough? even if it only happened once, isn’t it already one time too many?”

“but he treats me so well,” you try to fight back and move to look him straight in the eyes. oh, that was a mistake asyour glossy doe eyes hold the beauty all the poets sing about. what was that saying? face that launched a thousand ships? yeah, he would willingly go to war for you. next words escape him before he can put a stop to his endless stream of thoughts.

“i can treat you so much better.”

he can see you gasp in surprise, making the most adorable face he’s ever seen. geto doesn’t want to hear what you have to say back – he is moving on instinct, animalistic hunger re-wiring his every nerve – so he kisses you, hard and breathtakingly, like he dreamed of ever since he first laid eyes on you.

you are startled, eyes as wide as two full moons, and you try to push himself off but he is persistent. suguru feels your hands curling into his t-shirt, and you cannot stop the moan slipping past your lips.

“you don’t have to be shy with me. it seems satoru has been neglecting you awfully a lot recently, wouldn’t you let me take care of you?”

“we s-shouldn’t be doing this, suguru. it’s wrong.”

“what’s wrong, sinful even, is to leave a pretty girl like you all alone. let me show you how you should be loved.”

before you can respond, suguru is sliding his hand down your shorts and feels your throbbing heat through the panties. you are not wet enough yet but geto knows he can change it very quickly.

“tell me, princess, when was the last time satoru fucked you? or better one, when was the last time satoru fucked you and made you cum?” suguru cups your sex through your clothes and grinds his palm on your clit. the mewl it earns him from you feels almost like honey on a sore throat – he swears it sounds almost divine.

“yeah, you like that, sweet thing?” he asks you, and you’re too embarrassed to say anything so you just shake your head. as your body starts feeling good, you stop caring how wrong it is: you cannot deny you’ve missed being treated like you’re the only one that matters. “you know, i don’t understand satoru. if you were mine, i would keep you under me the whole day. fuck you into this couch until i am the only one on your mind, and then make you cum again and again on my tongue and my fingers. would you like that, princess?”

geto’s honeycomb words make you lose any last reservations you’ve had about this whole affair. his fingers keep massaging your pearly bud – it’s been left without attention for way too long for your own comfort, and your own fingers do not bring you the same level of satisfaction as you got used to with satoru. so you kiss geto again, and climb on top of him, everything else be damned.

suguru kisses you back with a ferociousness of a starved beast – it’s messy and it’s loud, teeth clanking, wet sounds of your mouths moving in rhythm bouncing between the two of you, moans exchanged and swallowed. he is biting on your lip, hands squeezing your hips harshly – you’re sure you will see bruises there tomorrow – making you grind on him. you can feel the growing tent in his cargo pants, and that makes you feverishly hot.

“i will make you cum three times tonight, princess. first, you’ll do it on my tongue, second, on my fingers, and finally, i’ll let you cream around my cock. how does that sound?”

you want to respond back, say something, but words fail you for the -nth time today, the only sounds escaping you are loud moans, borderline on pathetic. suguru takes that as a confirmation and flips you into a position under him, your lips slightly swollen and eyes glistening with the previous tears. god, he cannot wait to make you cry for an entirely different reason.

he starts by capturing your lips with his again, rough movements of his tongue against yours. how many times has he lost himself in a daydream while you were around, watching you lick your lips clean, pink tongue darting out to wipe away any food? geto deepens the kiss and cannot stop the whine rushing out past his lips, immediately swallowed by you.

suguru does not want to pull away but there is something else he is dying to taste. his lips move lower, grazing the side of your sensitive neck – involuntarily, your hips jerks upward, your aching core starting to look for any relief, when he brushes past that spot in the dip of your neck igniting your nerves. you don’t try to stop yourselves from letting geto know exactly how he makes you feel. he keeps moving lower, removing your shirt and caressing the tender skin of your boobs, and then takes one of your nipples into his mouth, circling his tongue around the perky nub dying for his attention. closing your eyes and throwing your head back, you revel in this feeling of body worship. your wanton moans become louder, and geto’s cock becomes even harder when he sees the look of absolute bliss on your face. his unoccupied hand goes to play with the other nipple, gently twisting it between his digits, pinching it just enough to spike your pleasure with pain.

your shorts are gone next, together with your light-blue panties that suguru removes in one swift motion. you are sprawled out naked on your couch in front of your boyfriend’s best friend – yet you fail to feel any shame. geto spreads your legs wider and is delighted to discover the prettiest view in the house: your glistening pussy all wet and ready for him.

“huh, what is it?” he swipes between your folds, spreading your slick all the way to the clit begging to be touched, “little cute slut only needed couple of kisses to get this wet? did satoru really neglect his little princess this much?”

“p-please… ah… don’t mention his name while we do this,” you say, eyes still closed, geto’s digits continuing playing around your pearl, not giving you the full stimulation yet.

“do what, pretty face? fuck? i am about to eat your cunt but you’re too shy to even say it out loud?” suguru laughs, almost patronizingly, and slaps your clit with his hand, earning a surprised gasp from you. you hide your face in your hands, or at least try to, but geto has other ideas. “uh-uh, no, you cannot hide from me. open your eyes, i want you to keep looking, doll.”

geto leans closer to your throbbing clit and spits – your view is obscene, yet you’re unable to look away. even as he languidly swipes his tongue between your spread folds and flicks it around your nub, you keep your eyes opened. your hands grab his hair, and geto grunts but doesn’t stop you. he keeps drawing slow circles around your clit, and you can feel the coil in your tummy starting to tighten. you would be embarrassed at how fast he is getting you to your orgasm, yet you fail to care.

suguru wants to insert a finger but he promised he would make you cum with his tongue alone. long flicks of his tongue along your inner lips drive you insane, slurping sounding so filthy, you might need to move places now – and when geto sucks on your pearl, suctioning his lips just at the right spot, he is bringing you closer and closer to the peak of the ecstasy you’ve been craving. his hands are hot to the touch as they grab your hips with almost punishing force, pushing you even closer to his face.

just as you thought this was enough to light your whole being on fire, geto starts pumping his tongue in and out of you, sloshing sounds echoing in your ears, making you burn hot. suguru is alternating between giving your pretty clit attention, tracing his tongue along your lips, and sucking on nerve bundle that sends sparks to your pleasure receptors, making you burn all that hotter. flatting out the tongue, suguru is running it over your clit and labia, before pumping the tip of it back into your wanting hole.

your moaning becomes louder and louder, grip on geto’s hair almost painful now but he doesn’t mind. looking back up at you, he meets your gaze – and can’t help but praise you for how good you’ve been to him.

“my cute bunny actually listened to me, huh? keeping your pretty eyes on me while i eat you out like this? i bet you enjoy the view.”

and you do, of course you do. the orgasm is imminent now as geto speeds up his movement, licking up and down. your breathing accelerates and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of your pleasure – until geto pushes you over. it doesn’t take much longer for you to cum, juices dripping out of you and down his tongue. suguru is drinking up every last drop, not daring to spill his very own elixir of life.

“fu-uuck, it feels so good,” you cry out as he keeps tongue fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs trying to close around his head to escape the ongoing assault on your poor cunt, but suguru’s iron grip doesn’t falter. you whine and try to push his head away, body starting to shake with overstimulation, but geto is determined – he sucks on your clit again and you yelp, seeing stars. he finally relents and gets up from his knees, kissing you again. you taste yourself on his lips, and you feel the arousal climbing up again.

“thank you for the best meal of my life. that was one, yeah?”

he doesn’t give you time to respond before he is caging your smaller body, one hand moving to the nape of your neck to bring you even closer while other teases your entrance. you try not to seem too desperate, hugging suguru around his shoulders and bucking your hips into him. geto chuckles darkly, licking your lips and gently massaging the nape of your neck while his digits explore where his tongue already paved the way.

the first flick of his digits on your clit is embarrassingly enough to start lighting up your nerve endings again – a hot feeling, something akin to a molten lava, spreads across your skin, sending the goosebumps running wild. you concentrate on geto’s face, so close to yours, and you are tempted to kiss him again. but he is moving away when you try to chase him, and the prettiest, most adorable pout is dancing on your lips. it makes him want to ruin you.

geto inserts the first finger without any warning, and you’re tearing up from the sudden intrusion – you’re lost in the mix of pain and pleasure that you don’t notice the beads of tears escaping the corners of your eyes. suguru leans close and runs his tongue over salty trails, cleaning you up.

“shhh, it’s only one finger. it’s not your limit, is it? i have so much more to offer.”

geto pushes in the second finger, and you have to grab onto his shoulders. you’re curving your spine into him, trying to guide his fingers to touch that special spongy spot inside your tight, hot hole. suguru’s fingers are slender and long – fingers that should belong to a pianist or a guitarist. and you are no musical instrument, but fuck, you would be lying if geto didn’t know how to play you without missing a beat.

“sug-suguru…” you say thought a whiny hiccup, “i want you to move.”

“yeah? you want me to fuck you with my fingers? on the same couch where you and satoru probably did the same thing?”

mention of your boyfriend’s name sends a wave of shame through you, and geto is quick to notice. before your brain can process the feelings of guilt, he starts pumping his digits in and out of you while drawing tight circles on your sensitive nub. still recovering from your previous orgasm, your body is sent into overdrive, accelerating into ecstasy in no time. if this is wrong, then why does it feel so good?

the squelching sounds your pussy makes around his fingers makes your cheeks heat up, blush kissing your face in a way only suguru should be allowed to do. this time, you close your eyes and tilt your head back, losing yourself to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure spreading throughout your every nerve. geto’s hand comes to tighten around your body, and the sudden cut of airflow is intensifying everything tenfold.

your body starts panicking when blood stops receiving necessary oxygen but the pleasure signals in your brain are setting off like fireworks. geto is pistoning his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt while squeezing his hand around your neck just a little bit tighter. breathless moans are escaping you as your body fights for more oxygen, not able to decide whether the line between pain and pleasure is blurring fast enough. suguru is curling his digits inside you and oh! eureka! he touches that sweet spot making white spots to dance across your vision.

“yeah, that’s it. you’re being such a good girl for me,” geto says above you but his voice is coming through a vacuum – the ringing in your ears becomes louder as your tummy is tightening up again. your mouth hangs open, a ribbon of drool dripping down your chin, and suguru thinks he’s never seen anything sexier. keeping his rhythm, he rubs your clit again, earning a broken moan from you.

geto feels your pussy tightening around his fingers, and he growls imagining his cock stretching your pretty cunt instead. he keeps pushing them in and out, massaging your nub with perfect pressure, squeezing your neck just tight enough, and mere second later, you’re cumming again. a broken moan that turns into a sob is everything you’re able to let out – suguru thinks you look so damn cute, he wants to take a picture. his phone is forgotten somewhere on the couch so instead, he commits to memory every single sound and facial expression.

he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, again, and you try to push at his hand to stop.

“no, common, i know you can do better than this. keep it coming, yeah?” geto says with a smirk, and takes both your wrists into his hand, keeping them close to his chest. you cannot do anything but sob as the waves of pleasure keeps crashing against your shores, leaving you to fend for yourself through the aftershocks of ecstasy. sweat is running between your boobs, down the sides of your face – you’re glistening all over, and suguru swears that’s what a goddess would look like.

“g-geto… please… i can’t take it anymore…”

“geto, huh? i thought we were on the first-name basis now.”

“i’m sorry…” hiccup “it’s just so hard to think…” hiccup.

“aw, i haven’t even made you cum around my cock yet and you’re already fucked out dumb? poor little angel.” you know he is mocking but fuck, why does it feel so good?

geto finally relents when you bit your lips a little too harsh and takes his fingers out of you. he brings them to your lips, and you suck on the digits without any further instructions.

“such a good fucking girl. open your mouth wider for me,” you do as he says, and suguru spits inside. “now, swallow.”

again, you follow his command without any deliberation and then open your mouth to show you’ve done it. geto chuckles and very gently slaps your cheek.

“that was two.”

you whine, thinking if you had to cum one more time, you might actually pass out. you try to pout, and tug at the hem of his t-shirt. “i don’t think i can cum again, suguru.”

“nuh-uh, i told you i’ll make you cum three times, and i will. now come on, be good for me and turn around.”

“i want you to take off your clothes.” your simple request takes him by surprise, but he obliges immediately. his t-shirt is gone first, then cargo pants follow. you trail your eyes down and your mouth forms a perfect little “o” when you see the tent formed in his boxer briefs – geto mentally takes a picture of this moment – and you are left almost speechless.

“it’s not going to fit.”

“i’ll make it fit.”

you don’t dare to look away when suguru starts to pull his underwear down, and your suspicions are correct – he is big, maybe even too big for you. not as long as satoru’s but he is thicker, curvier. angry red tip already leaking with pre-cum, and you want to run your tongue along his slit.

“are you drooling looking at my cock?” geto chuckles, and you turn your gaze away in embarrassment. “aw, ‘m sorry, princess. let me give you something else to drool for.”

geto comes close and grabs you by your hips, moving you around. your forearms land on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat of suguru’s chest against your back, his heavy cock slapping your thigh.

“you’re so fucking pretty, i can’t get enough of you,” geto sounds out of breath, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your sex-soaked scent. he wraps his hand around your waist while pumping his dick with the other. he spreads his pre-cum along his length, finally guiding himself to your waiting cunt.

the stretch is painful – even with all the prep suguru has done, it’s not enough for your tight little pussy to take him in comfortably. geto doesn’t give you time to adjust and pushes himself all the way in, until his balls slap against you. you squeeze your eyes, and little snowflakes of tears run down your cheeks, and your tongue darts out to taste the salty evidence. geto is moving his hips now, dragging his thick length in and out of you. your pussy is clenching every time he pushes against your needy spot, veins on his cock massaging your walls, helping you climb towards your climax again.

suguru grabs you by the jaw and turns your face towards him, losing no time ravishing your lips with his again. they are swollen – he could see how red they are – yet the kiss is hungry, as if geto’s appetite has not been satiated. he is so concentrated on kissing you, he loses his rhythm, and his dick slips out, making both of you whine in displeasure.

“please, give it back,” you mewl into him, and suguru’s losing himself in you – he is losing himself to you. so he gives it back, of course he does, thrusting his cock to the hilt, mushroom tip kissing your cervix. when geto sets a bruising pace, pistoning his hips with the punishing rhythm, you can do nothing but hold onto his forearm – he is the only thing tethering you to earth now, gravity has no hold on a force that is geto.

his slender digits start massaging your abused clit, and you can feel your toes curling again. he fucks into you fast and steady, and lewd sounds of his hips smashing into yours bounce around the four walls – the cacophony of squelching sounds your greedy cunt makes when it sucks geto’s cock fully and readily mixed with your wanton moans create the sex-induced symphony suguru never wants to forget.

you are completely lost to the storm that is suguru geto. he is everywhere, it’s all so much: his hand around your tit, squeezing the soft mound; his middle finger on your clit, drawing the perfect circles with purpose; his mouth on yours, tongue exploring the secrets between your teeth; and his cock being dragged in and out of your crying hole. suguru geto is all encompassing, and you can’t get enough.

geto pinches your nipple, and you jump in surprise while your pussy grips him even tighter. he keeps twirling your nub between his fingers while his mouth moves behind your ear, sucking the little sensitive spot that makes you shiver. soft pad of his middle finger is still playing with your clit, and every single feeling is becoming increasingly overwhelming. you can feel the sweat trickle down your spine and white spots dance across your vision as his curved cock kisses just the right spot somewhere deep inside you.

you think you are on fire – everything feels feverish and suguru’s body heat surrounds you like steaky sauna air. tingling in your fingertips and all the way down in your toes intensifies, and you further dig your nails into geto’s forearm. he growls in your ear but doesn’t stop; he continues fucking you in the earnest, like it’s his life-long mission to bring you as much pleasure as humanly possible.

geto’s forehead is pressed against the back of your head, and he can feel his composure slipping – he has been edging himself for a while now, trying to make you cum with him but it slowly becomes all too much. he starts blabbering into your ear, hoping his filthy words will finally bring you over the edge.

“common, pretty thing, i want you creaming all over my cock. i want you to cum with me, can you do it for me, kitten?”

his words reverberate in every crevice of your mind, and your last orgasm washes over you like tsunami. your body is shaking against geto, tears and drool running down the sides of your face and mouth; your vision goes black and you struggle to breathe for a moment. your brain is connecting nerves usually left untouched as climax waves rush over you, making you twitch in the man’s hold. you’re crying and moaning his name – he is the divine presence you need right now, the only god that’s worth worshipping. you’re on the verge of completely losing yourself to pleasure as you think you’re going to faint but suguru’s voice grounds you back.

“shhhh, common, we’re not done yet. milk my cock, gorgeous.”

“no, suguru, i’m not on birth control, you have to pull out.”

“that’s okay, i’ll get you plan b tomorrow. or maybe even better, babytrap you so you have no reason to come back to satoru, hm? how about that?”

“nn-no, please…” but before you can finish your sentence, you hear suguru groan and you can feel him cumming inside. you want to be mad but the overwhelming ecstasy he keeps taking you through is overshadowing every rational thought in your head now. you cannot hold yourself anymore, has not been able to do so for the past 10 minutes, so you helplessly hang onto geto’s forearm while he fucks his cum back into you.

when he finally slows down and pulls out, the two of you are a mess – the room smells of sex and something akin to guilt, but you don’t let yourself linger on it for two long. he gives you a final kiss, gently massaging the nape of your back, guiding you to lie down. you’re unable to stay awake as suguru walks back to your kitchen to grab you a glass of water, passing out on the couch before he even comes back. he smirks, looking down at your figure, and runs his fingers through your hair, hoping your head is only filled with the thoughts of him.

“that was three.”

© rinniessance do not steal, plagiarize or translate my works. do not recommend me on tiktok, thank you

[7-wonders]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, that's the boyfriend."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh my!" Ida blushes.

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

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

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

"What? I have eyes!"

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

"And you are a sweetheart."

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

"You bring Morpheus around any time, alright?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[gabessquishytum]

Dream has been hearing rumors (those biddies love to gossip about Dream's family) that Orpheus has gotten into an inappropriate relationship. Something, something "sugar baby", something, something f*cking an older man.

Dream doesn't want to interfere in Orpheus's life, but the Endless family, and Dream himself, have money, not as much as in their storied past, but enough that Orpheus doesn't have to whore out his young ass for money.

Dream isn't even judging, he just want his son not to make mistakes similar to the ones that Dream made in his youth. Dream knows how seductive those older men can be....hell Dream is still young himself (not a twink anymore certainly, but Dream had Orpheus young, so he doesn't look like the father of a college student.).

Suffice to say, Dream learns the name of the man supposedly paying for Orpheus's ass and goes to see him, maybe he can warn him off Orpheus. R. Gadling has something like 10 or 15 years on Dream, hopefully Dream can get him to see reason.

💶 💶 💶 💶 💶

Hob would have liked it to be known, if he was interested in talking to those judgmental society b*tches, that he does not need to pay a young man for sex. Thank you very much. He might like to take care of his lovers, but so far he draws the line at 30-year age differences. He is not that much of a creeper.

Orpheus is a fantastic young man, a musical prodigy, and Hob knows some people in the industry. All he did was offer introductions, that Orpheus, with his gift, would have most likely developed on his own, in time. He is not sleeping with a boy young enough to be his son,,,his son Robin introduced them for goodness sake!

When Orpheus's father comes to Hob is high dungeon, judgingly talking about inappropriate relationships and all but screaming at Hob, in his beautiful deep voice, for Hob to stop sleeping with his son -- Hob might have fallen in love on the spot. Blush high on his cheeks, hair a mess, looking like he just woke up from a good f*ck, Hob wanted to bite.

And mess with him a little,,,,,Hob offered (jokingly he thought) to stop sleeping with Orpheus if his father took his place in Hob's bed. He was expecting more yelling, not Morpheus Endless to say yes on the spot.

Oh Dream...... you poor little horny idiot. Trying so hard to be the best dad, but Orpheus is cringing SO hard.

Hob really was joking about exchanging Orpheus for Morpheus, and then Dream goes ahead and looks so sincere and so sexy... but Hob isn't a bad person (not anymore) so he sighs and explains that it was a joke. He's not fucking anyone right now, especially not Dream’s kid. He is in fact in the middle of a very long dry spell, and yes he might be going into too much detail now but at least Morpheus looks like he believes him. He sighs and smoothes down his hair and Hob is almost disappointed to see that anger fade away. Morpheus does at least blush prettily and say "call me Dream", so that's. A nice development.

And then Dream asks if Hob was joking about wanting to sleep with him, and if he thinks that Dream is too old to be a sugarbaby? Because he'd actually be willing to give it a try... And he says it in this teasing, flirty way that goes right to Hob’s dick. He's desperately hoping that his dryspell might finally be over. But he's going to have to pull out all the stops and really woo this delicious man.

Before Dream knows it, he's being whisked off to Hob’s box at the opera for a night of champagne and beautiful music. Hob explains that he doesn't take just anyone up to his box - only pretty boys that he really wants to spoil. Dream nearly melts into a puddle over being called a "boy". And yes, he's still relieved when Hob confirms that he never took Orpheus for a night at the opera.

Apparently Dream’s penchant for older guys really hasn't faded away, because he's getting butterflies whenever Hob puts a hand on his back to guide him, or orders their drinks with polite authority. If Orpheus was fucking Hob, then Dream would absolutely be fighting his own son tooth and nail over this man. Dream is embarrassed by his own horniness but not enough to stop - maybe he's doesn't actually need a sugar daddy, but he sure as hell WANTS this one <3

[tulipsforyourlips]

✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (1)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 800

WARNINGS: mentions of blood

PART 1 ✧˖°.

"Promise me.”

"Hope I,-"

"Promise Dream."

"I promise." 

The Dream Lord stiffened in his seat as he banished away his thoughts to the darkest chambers of his mind, afraid they would return otherwise. But they still did, every time. The colours swirling in the glass pane that framed his throne cast vibrant hues of light on his poised face, accentuating his features that were sharp enough to cut skin. Promise Dream, the words came back as a whisper, evoking a chill on his neck that travelled through his spine. He shut his eyes willing his mind to quiet, trying to-

"My lord." Lucienne's welcoming voice pulled him to the present. 

"You have a visitor," she announced. 

Morpheus raised an eyebrow imperceptibly at his failure to come up with someone who might visit his realm, especially when he was not expecting anyone. 

"Little brother,”

The voice was accompanied by a woman with black curls and a skin that glowed before the light from the glass pane even touched her. 

"Death," Morpheus stated, bewilderment tucked somewhere in his tone. After all, he hadn't expected to meet her again so soon. 

"How are you?" She asked.

"I am truly well sister, what brings you here?"

Death knew how much truth his ‘truly well’ held but let it pass for the moment. "Lucienne would you please excuse us for a minute?" 

"Ofcourse my lady.” She dipped her head and pursued the command, closing the colossal doors behind her. 

"Something...something has happened.” Death wasted no time in speaking.  

This time Dream did not try to hide the raise in his eyebrow. "Whatever do you mean?" His calm voice floated through the room. 

"Dream,”

Before she could follow the sentence, turmoil had already begun growing within him, Death was using his name only to soften the blow. 

"It's here."

“Bloody hell, that was one hell of a case!” Charles exclaimed as he shut the door behind you three. 

“Charles you know Edwin suffers from serious ptsd please stop using hell so much around him. It’s not like the British lack in creative curses,” you reprimanded him as you shrugged your jacket off, draping it over the couch. 

“Haha you’re hilarious,” Edwin stated monotonically while Charles started chanting ‘hell’ in the background just to spite the both of you. 

“Thanks hon,” you winked. “And Charles shut that hole up or if the ghost didn’t get you I surely will.”

“Hell hell hell hell hell- ow what was that for?” 

You grinned in delight as your boot contacted with his abdomen, “for being annoying.” 

Another “ow” escaped Charles as he sent glaring looks at you. “And that?” 

“For being you,” you beamed, devoid of both your boots now.

Your smile was quickly wiped off your face as Charles began his incantation right in your face. 

“Get away from me!” You groaned flailing your hands to push his bloodied face away. 

“Okay now I don’t know about you both but I for one am seriously tired after the events that have transpired during the day. So if you will excuse me and please take whatever this is,” Edwin gestured at the both of you with a foul expression, “somewhere else because I need to rest.” 

“Hell hell hell,” Charles resumed being annoying as if nothing had happened. 

“I swear if even a droplet of that ghost’s blood drops on my t-shirt I will fucking kill you. Again.” 

“Hell hell- you love me too much for that-hell hell-”

“Yeah? Go on and find out- NO!” You let out a scream that would have for sure woken up your neighbours if you had any, being a secretive ghost agency and what not. 

“You bitch! That was my favourite t-shirt!” You looked down at the once white fabric now bearing an impression of Charles' right profile in blood.

“I know.” He had the audacity to smirk at that. 

You went for his throat, fully determined to give truth to your previous threat when Edwin pulled you from him. 

"Enough! Both of you!” 

Charles and you stared at each other, your ears still hot with fury.

“Charles go wash up that face please! And Hazel you need sleep, unlike us, so go retire to your bedroom.” 

“Like you can just order us around,” you rolled your eyes. 

But Edwin’s one look in your way got you scrambling for your jacket. 

“Yes boss.” Charles made his way to the bathroom. 

“Goodnight Edwin, fuck you Charles.” And you departed with your wishes.

You sighed as you switched on the lights in your room, and plopped down on the single bed. Not even mustering up the courage to change into your night clothes, you let sleep engulf you and entered the world of dreaming. 

A/N: hello peeps this story is set post the events of the sandman show and i haven’t read the comics so you will have to bear with the inconsistencies and the like. if i mess up real bad pls do let me know<3

SERIES MASTERLIST ✧˖°.