#so fluffy that I can't believe I'm cross posting but here goes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lady-phasma · 6 months

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The Gathered Storm

Part 2 of 2 (so far) cross posted from AO3 - part 1

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, general smut and so much fluff, p in v sex. Written in first person fem!reader.

Summary a/n: Asteria is a bit surprised to see Morpheus in the library. No surprise though that he isn't there for the books. No beta. 4k words.

Dream of the Endless strode silently up behind me. The only indication that he was there was the soft murmur of his cloak as he walked. I was placing a stack of books on the table in the alcove.

“Hello, Asteria,” his voice was low and deep, barely causing an echo in the giant library.

I turned to look up at him. I was only a bit shorter than him but just enough that I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes. Today those eyes matched the weather just outside the palace: dreary, gray, and stormy. In fact, the storms seem to have been gathering all day. Perhaps his mood had worsened as the day drew on. I hadn’t noticed. I love the rain on the stained glass windows, the soft patter, the distant thunder. It had not occurred to me until looking into his eyes that this gray day was an extension of his mood and not just his weather choice for today.

“My lord,” I said softly, lowering my eyes and performing a small curtsy-like gesture. I felt his cold fingers touch my chin and guide my gaze up to him. He dropped his hand to his side.

“Light reading?” he asked as his eyes moved from me to the books on the table behind me. His sarcasm wasn’t hindered by his mood. He leaned forward, a long, graceful arm moving in slow motion to inspect a title. His head was so near to mine that his unruly hair grazed my cheek. I inhaled deeply, savoring his scent. He dropped the book, disinterested, and straightened.

“Yes, m’lord,” I grinned. “Catching up now that the writing has returned to the pages and new books have appeared. I save the heavy reading for Lucienne.”

“Hmm.” His enigmatic response wasn’t a surprise. Morpheus hated small talk but in a better mood would spar and tease. This reply signaled the small talk was over. He usually had to be coaxed into talking about what he really wanted to discuss. Especially when he was in one of these moods.

I moved back just slightly and rested, half-sat, on the table. I wanted to touch him but with the lightning and thunder growing closer I decided to be cautious. I folded my hands in my lap.

“Morpheus,” I began, “you don’t care about the books today… and I am very pleased to see you, but I think you came to see me for a reason. This…” I gestured to the rain on the windows with my eyes, “Is this you?”

He followed my eyes to the three story leaded glass and stared thoughtfully. His eyes were unfocused, not seeing but full. They had that lovely starry, wet quality to them, reflective like pools of still, black water. I watched his throat move as he swallowed. I surveyed him quickly while he was lost in thought. His hands by his sides in loose, porcelain fists, his chest rising and falling so slightly that a mortal might think he wasn’t breathing at all, a small breeze moved a strand of his hair. My inhuman eyes looked for signs that my lord might not be consciously on guard. There were none. He was in complete control and that often meant he was having difficulty maintaining control. He gripped onto it so tightly for fear of losing it.

As those few seconds passed I knew he felt me appraising him. Just before he turned to look at me I placed my hand gently on his arm. I saw one of his fists tighten but otherwise he didn’t acknowledge my touch. I didn’t pull away.

When he turned back to me he surprised me by also taking one step closer. Our knees almost touched. The way that I was leaning on the table, neither sitting nor standing, was somewhat awkward with him this close. I didn’t have room to stand without pushing him back and couldn’t slide my bum up onto the table gracefully. The best I could do was wait to see what he did next. As I waited I slid my hand down the sleeve of his robe. I nudged my fingertips into his cupped palm. He held my gaze as I did this. He felt colder than normal. His hand as immovable as that of a statue. His eyes sparkled.

I didn’t look down when I felt his hand tighten on mine then drop it immediately. His movement was so swift that I inhaled sharply, not quite a gasp. He lifted me up by my hips, sat me on the table properly, and opened my legs so he was standing between them. No wonder humans thought him odd and ethereal: he could be as still as stone or so quick their eyes barely saw the movement. He let his hands fall to his sides once more, only now they rested almost touching my knees. He wasn’t trying to seduce me but it was happening anyway.

As his devotee I never needed seducing. I was at Dream’s beck and call but not everything we did was erotic. Sometimes I would perform ancient rituals offering food and flowers and trinkets symbolizing sleep, only because it amused us. Often I would read to him, books of the dreams of mysterious and creative humans: Siddhartha Gautama, Leonardo da Vinci, Albert Einstein. We had been known to lay on the stairs in his thrown room while he told me stories and illustrated them on the ceiling. I was created in the image of his desire and I worshiped him but I was also a companion. I, among all his creations, existed for his pleasure and no other purpose and what pleased him was as endless as he. And equally enigmatic.

“Yes, love,” he finally spoke. He brushed the back of his knuckles over my knee. “This,” he tipped his head to the window, “is me. I am troubled.” He opened his hand and rested his palm on my thigh.

“Dream?” I whispered as I covered his hand with my own.

He sighed. It was a delicious sigh, one that could break one’s heart. He glanced down at our hands.

“I have sent Matthew on an errand,” he began. “I do not fear for his safety, only for his failure. I do not delegate easily.” He lifted his head to look at me.

“There is more but I do not wish to discuss it yet. It is possible that it will be easily resolved but one wrong step and Lucifer…” His voice trailed off but he held my gaze.

“I do wish, however, to wait with you,” he whispered, “if you would have me.” The corner of his mouth quirked up as he spoke.

Before I could reply he began to slide his fingers off the top of my thigh. I drew my bottom lip between my teeth. My chest rose as I inhaled deeply. His gaze dropped briefly to my breasts and then back up to my eyes. I was incredibly aware of my position, being pinned to the table. I was much more comfortable in control, when Dream would need to relinquish some of his. This shift made me want to squirm. I was almost instantly wet from the idea but caught off guard.

“My Lord,” I breathed, awkwardly, with an embarrassed half-chuckle. I gripped the edge of the table with both hands and blushed. When was the last time he had made me blush sincerely? Five, six hundred years ago? For lack of anywhere better to look, I let my eyes drop down to my dress. It was rucked up on my thighs and hadn’t seemed indecent only moments ago. The fabric was taut across my spread legs. His long, delicate fingers rested just under the hem.

Morpheus placed his free hand next to mine on the table and gently caressed the back of my hand with his thumb. As he leaned forward he moved his fingers only mere millimeters further up my thigh. I shivered. His mouth hovered next to my ear. So close that I could feel his lips move, feel the warmth of his breath, but he whispered so delicately that I could not have heard him from any greater distance. His words almost came from within my head. His low, growling stopped my breath in my throat.

“I would have you here, on this table,” he spoke so slowly, each word chosen with care. “If you would allow it.” As he spoke his fingers brushed gently up my thigh and rested just close enough to make me want to squirm. I swallowed. I tried to breathe but found it nearly impossible. Each breath seemed to be a gasp. His fingertips grazed the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh. Slowly, lightly, he slid those elegant fingers up and down. So close but not close enough.

He kissed my pulse just below my ear, trailed a few more kisses down my neck to my shoulder. His other hand had settled behind my knee and I felt his fingers curl and tighten, holding me in place. As he pulled back to look at me I exhaled and nodded. All I could do was nod. He had rendered me speechless. This wasn’t entirely new, his touching me this way, but it surprised me and I felt I was still in shock.

My knuckles were white from gripping the table. I relaxed them and reached one hand up to his face. He allowed me to cup his cheek in my hand, to graze my fingers over his jaw, and slide my fingers to the back of his neck, just barely into his messy hair. I did not pull him to me but drew myself up to gently place my lips on his. The most reverent, gentle kiss I could manage. Every fiber in my being wanted to part his lips with my tongue and feel the heat of his mouth, feel his breath. But I barely touched my lips to his. It was brief and he didn’t close his eyes. He relished my affection.

I let my hand slide off his neck and fall back to the table. His grip on my knee tightened then slackened. He moved his other hand out of my dress and down the inside of my thigh. He must have seen the confused, disappointed way my brows crinkled. He almost grinned and his expression became mischievous. Moving his hands in tandem he slid my dress up to my waist and moved me closer to the edge of the table. Then he gracefully sank to his knees.

‘Have me,’ he had said! This had not crossed my mind at all. My legs began to tremble as the idea sunk in. Then I felt his breath on my panties, his fingers just at the hem. He grazed his lips over them and sighed.

“So wet for me, Asteria?” he murmured. “And so quickly…”

Even with his control over The Dreaming he didn’t vanish my panties away. He took his time sliding them off me, down my legs, and dropping them on the floor beside him. He never took his eyes from my bared sex. He leaned forward and gently guided my legs over his shoulders. My fingers twitched with the need to twine them into his unruly hair. I waited. I didn’t want to interrupt what he had planned. So I gripped the table edge again. I watched him but leaned back slightly. He slid one hand to the small of my back, keeping my hips at that angle.

Dream placed light, hovering kisses on the insides of my thighs, on my lips, and just above my clit. I couldn’t breathe. Then his tongue gently lapped between my folds, long and slow, and I audibly gasped. He hummed against me. His tongue sped up slightly. He played and toyed with every part of me. Slow circles, figure eights, from top to bottom and back. I felt his full lips wrap around my clit as he sucked on it and I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing a fistful of his hair. He seemed to chuckle a bit at this but to me the vibrations of that “laugh” were focused on only one part of my body, not my ears.

He let his teeth just barely touch my clit as he went back to using his tongue. He felt my hips twitch and moved his free hand to hold me still, fingertips digging into the flesh of my hip. My breathing was erratic and shallow. I felt his name in my mouth, curling up behind my lips.

“Oneiros!” I gasped as he slid his tongue into me. He pushed deeper inside then licked all the way back to my clit. Slowly releasing his hand from my hip he grazed his fingers across my skin and I twitched and almost jumped at the sensation. His hand on my back pressed hard against me. His lips and tongue continued their work with increased intensity. Then he slid one finger inside me. My hips jerked involuntarily. I suddenly felt my need for more of him. I would let him do this as long as he wanted but that one finger kindled a raging fire inside me. My other hand flew to his hair and both raked though it, grasping, releasing, incoherent movements just to feel him.

He slid in a second finger and my muscles tightened around him. Each of his movements on me and inside me made me clench and try to writhe, try to push down on him and fuck myself on his fingers. Morpheus was too strong and too clever to allow this. He would lessen his pace, his pressure, or pull back when I tried.

“Oh please, Morpheus,” I moaned at the ceiling, my head thrown back, eyes closed tight. “I need you. I need you to fuck me, my Lord.”

This last sentence made him falter for just a beat. I felt his tongue and fingers still and then resume. Harder and deeper. He wasn’t going to give me what I wanted, yet, but he was going to give me something. He sucked and moaned and curled his fingers inside me. His “come here” gesture caressed that particular spot and I bucked against him. He tried to hold me but I was coming undone. He quickened his rhythm and drove me to the edge. I shook and spasmed around him. He didn’t stop until my orgasm had so completely wracked me that I let go of his hair and laid back on a stack of books. Uncomfortable but not able to care.

My eyes were still closed but my breathing was beginning to slow when I felt him pull away and stand up. Even after that exquisite orgasm I felt empty when his fingers left. He stayed between my legs. He leaned down and propped himself above me. I looked at him, bleary-eyed, and saw his self-satisfied smile and grinned to myself. Partly because he had reason to be pleased with himself and also, though I might not ever tell him it pleased me, because his mouth and chin glistened with my wetness. The most un-royal and delightful thing I had ever seen on him. I pulled myself up by his shoulders to kiss him fully, deeply, so I could taste myself while expressing my love for him.

Before he laid me back on the table he swept the books aside and shifted my hips higher. I ran my hands down his shoulders and biceps and realized Morpheus had “removed” his cloak. I suddenly wanted his skin on mine, was suddenly aware that we were both still clothed. I looked up at him. His eyes were dark with lust as he watched me. I squirmed beneath him to get my hands under his shirt. He understood as I raked my hands up his stomach. His shirt and my dress de-materialized instantly. He smirked, only a little. His head dipped down to kiss my bared breasts.

“You are so beautiful, my love,” Dream said against my chest. He sighed. “So lovely. You taste as lovely as you look. I am so fortunate to be able to take solace in you, delay my troubles with your company.”

“Oh my Lord, I’m so honored that you can,” I whispered into his hair. “I love you so much and want only for you to have no troubles at all when you are with me.” I toyed with his ear as I spoke. I wanted more of him but was thoroughly enjoying his mouth on my skin. I closed my legs against his hips and felt he had left his pants on. Curious but many things my Lord did were curious.

He looked up at me while cupping my breast and drawing slow, lazy circles around my nipple with his thumb. His lips were parted and the tip of his tongue visible. How was he not the god Eros? Perfection in his lips, eyes, every part of him. King of Dreams indeed. My king. I curled toward him and licked his mouth open wider. As his mouth covered mine I moaned into him. I arched my back and pressed my body fully against his. His skin was cool and smooth. I ground my hips against his. He was hard, straining against his pants. He exhaled sharply when I did this. I pressed harder, sure that he could feel my heat and wetness though the fabric.

Morpheus slid his hand from my breast to my neck and pushed me back onto the table. He dragged his thumb across my lips and down my jaw. He watched my open mouth with greed. He nipped at my bottom lip, kissed me roughly. Then, completely rapt, he moved his thumb back to my mouth. His thumb slipped between my teeth and over my tongue. Watching him, I closed my lips around it and sucked. His slack mouth and attentive gaze sent electricity directly to my core. As I licked and sucked and played I felt his pants evaporate.

He pulled his thumb from my mouth with a lewd pop. He raised himself up just a bit with the arm that had been bearing his weight. I watched him watch his hand as he reached down to position himself. I felt a pang of jealousy as his hand wrapped around himself. I felt my mouth water. The light caught on the moisture on the tip. I swallowed and looked back up at Morpheus. I blushed. He had been looking at me. Not for long but long enough. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth and held my gaze as he pressed against my heat. I didn’t rush and push against him. I let him take his time. He moved his hand to the table beside my head as he slid into me.

We both let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a groan as he pushed fully into me. I wrapped my legs around his hips and forced him to stay still for just a moment. I loved the fullness. I finally had what I was craving. He let me enjoy it, my pleasure pleased him. I writhed against his hips, his chest, and groped for any place on his back or shoulders to pull him closer. I felt his smile as he pressed his face into the hollow of my neck.

“Dream,” I moaned as I ground my hips harder against him. “My King, please.” My breath came out shaky and ragged.

“Yes, of course, Asteria,” he whispered into my ear. He kissed my neck and waited a moment as I loosened my grip on him so he could move. “Whatever you want… you only have to say it.”

His imperiousness was infuriating under normal circumstances but this was far worse. My brain had not coherent thoughts, no fully formed sentences. I couldn’t think where to begin. So I rambled and mumbled.

“Please fuck me my Lord. I need you. I want to feel you. Oh please…” I couldn’t think anymore. I felt more than heard his words on my skin “yes my love.”

He pulled back just a fraction but it was enough. His movements were slight but felt enormous. I was aware of nothing but where our skin touched. He quickened his pace and I gripped his shoulders for leverage. He peppered my forehead, cheeks, and neck with light kisses. He freed a hand and ran it over my hair. He stroked my arm and grazed his fingers across my collarbone. The gentleness of his touches in start contrast to the rhythm of his hips. He was fucking me, hard, but his hands and eyes were tender. He rested his large hand over my heart momentarily. Timed with a stroke he kissed me while buried all the way inside me. When he pulled away I gasped.

Morpheus had only moved to get more leverage and to make room between us to slide his hand down. When his fingers grazed my clit I nearly screamed, my groan echoed up the library walls. For the first time since he and I discussed it, I noticed the windows and the storm now raging outside. The rain was beating against the glass in heavy sheets. I closed my eyes with a satisfied smile and dug my fingernails into his shoulders. He grunted just a bit at this and increased the pressure on my clit. He was far from gentle but he was clearly restrained. His power and strength were being held back.

“My love,” when I spoke he looked surprised but never faltered. “I’m not mortal. I’m not fragile. Have you forgotten you don’t have to hold back with me, that you can be Endless?” As I spoke I held his eyes with mine and snaked a hand into his hair. I gripped a fistful, hard. That sharp sensation seemed to awake something in him. As I had hoped it might.

His eyes went black and star-filled. He kissed me greedily, harshly. I moaned into his mouth as I pulled his hair tighter around my fingers. He increased his pace and thrust more forcefully. His fingers still played and circled around my clit but I wouldn’t need that much longer. I felt my orgasm twist and grow low in my core. Watching my love become more of himself started to break a dam within me. My hips rocked against him, pinning his hand between us. He sped up and now truly fucked me. My world turned hot and electric. I squeezed my eyes shut. Gold filled the edges of the blackness. I barely noticed how loudly I called his name. I released his hair and grabbed any part of his bare skin I could, scrambling in my blindness for him.

My muscles squeezed hard around him and I heard him groan. He was enjoying my orgasm almost as much as I was. But even as I crested the wave of these feelings I thought of him. He hadn’t had his release. I was panting, nearly breathless. I stroked his arm and guided his hand from between us. He understood and immediately curled both arms around me, lifting me up almost to seated. His hands spanned nearly my entire back. My breasts flattened against his chest. He looked into my eyes, licked his perfect lips, and drove into me. If we were human we would have been covered in sweat, breathless, tired. Thank the gods we aren’t.

His shallow, breathy sounds made me shiver. He didn’t speak but murmured deep in his throat, lips barely moving. I knew what he was saying only because it resonated in my mind, not in my ears.

“My love, my Asteria, my world,” he continued. “You are mine. You are perfect, feel perfect. I adore you.”

I kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his neck. He shifted slightly. He had moved his hips to an angle that began that coiling, hot feeling deep in me. A surprised oh escaped my lips, followed by a moan that might have been his name. Still incredibly sensitive from my last orgasm, this one seemed to rise too quickly. The heat broke and spread through all of my limbs. I clenched down on him as the thrust into me. His hips stuttered. He crushed me against him and I felt him spill into me. He groaned, a very human sound, and sighed. He didn’t let me go but rested his forehead on my shoulder.

When he pulled away from me I shivered. He kissed me gently and smoothed my hair, tucking a wayward strand behind my ear. It was my turn to have the self-satisfied grin as I looked at the blue sky outside, the sun coming through the glass as the clouds departed.

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