Sandman X Reader - Tumblr Posts

I was in bad writer's block but now that i'm back i hope you guys are ready for it 😌

adding onto my morpheus god x worshipper trope post idea,

conntext: basically i really want a god x worshipper trope x reader fic with morpheus where plot twist /YOU/ are worshipping, infatuated, and very much so passionate with him and not the other way around

imagine the really devoted mortal being borderline OBSESSED and so worshippy around him to the point hes so confused

"i'd die for him" "please do not" - probably morpheus

crucified by army of lovers is still very much so the main theme song for this bc i imagine the really devoted mortal just praying with their eyes closed with tears in their eyes bc theyre THAT type of devotee

theyre so devoted they even DREAM abt him and what better way to call for the dream lord but to dream about him in so much more detail

like the dream is of u in a church or temple of sorts and just . praying to this sistine chapel esque art of him and hes so 👁👄👁 watching it all

i imagine morpheus gets so sick of it/is mildly intriuged/very much disturbed of all of it to the point they visit the mortal in all his brooding glory

and the mortal just . DROPS TO THEIR KNEES AT HIS PRESENCE AND HES SO "?!?!?!?!?!?!"

anyway im not a writer so like

Divine Dream Of The Endless, I Shall Serve You So, My Lord Morpheus.

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream x Gender-Neutral!Reader

Trope: God x Worshipper, God x Devotee

Content Warning: Alluding to religious imagery, nothing spicy tho

Rating: Mature, Comedy (No Smut)

Summary: You've devoted your entire mortal being to Morpheus. He doesn't understand why.

Word Count: 2,760

Disclaimer: This is only for fun and I am in no way shape or form trying to dictate what Morpheus would do!

~

You sighed dreamily as you looked up at the skies, hands clasped together tightly against your chest, whispering words of both tender and intimate worship to the one and only Lord Of Dreams And Nightmares. You don’t exactly dwell on the details of how it started– how this devoutness (some would say, obsession), for a seemingly forgotten god came from.

To put it bluntly, you didn’t mind people’s stares whenever you talked about your savior. Why would their words matter when only his did? Fortunately, your friends still supported you in any way they can (albeit with looks of worry and confusion).

“ ‘Lord’ Morpheus? You mean one of Hypnos’ many children?” Your friend who was particularly interested in mythologies asked. You and them had planned to meet up at your apartment to simply hang out. They figured that you needed at least a little time not wasting your every breath singing phrases to your supposedly fictional god. To their surprise, you vehemently shook your head in “no” before your eyes glistened as you thought about your lord even more. 

“He comes with many names, be it Oneiros, Morpheus, Shaper Of Forms, Kai’ckul,” A dopey smile adorned your face as your friend looked at you with slight concern and disturbance.

“Sandman, Lord Of Dreams, and–” You stopped to take a breath, breathing in heavily before exhaling in deep admiration. “Dream.”

As you talked on and on about how glorious and magnificent your one true savior is, your friend couldn’t help but just stare in shock at how extremely devoted and obsessed you were.

“How did this even start..?” Their question made you halt in your ramblings as your eyes glistened even more (if that was even possible) as you recounted the tale of how you came to know such a sacred figure or deity.

(Your friend could do nothing more but only get goosebumps as you talked more and more about him. It kind of sounded like you were in a cult.)

“Well, of course my lord introduced himself to me in his most beautiful creations…”

… A dream. It all started with a dream. You remember waking up in a meadow that was so peaceful you could just close your eyes and let yourself sink into the soil and let nature take its course. You laid there for a moment, basking in the seemingly absent sun and its rays, sighing deeply and enjoying the peacefulness.

The peacefulness was interrupted by a quiet russell in the bushes ahead of you.

You opened your eyes, slightly inconvenienced at the noise. Begrudgingly, you carefully got up in order to not disturb the local flowers you had spotted near you. As you made your way through the meadow, a being with greatly beautiful features that both scared and intoxicated you came into view.

They lifted their head up, their blonde hair swaying with the wind. Their beautiful gold eyes met with yours, before a cheshire grin took hold on their face.

They said your name in what would be the human equivalent of a purr, causing your face to heat up before you approached them slowly, feeling the light tickle of the grass on your feet.

“Who… Who are you…?” You asked meekly, mesmerized yet overwhelmed by their appearance. The wind pushed you away from them, almost as if warning you of their presence.

They looked pensively at you for a moment, before shrugging and speaking in a silky voice.

“Let’s just say… I’m a prophet that's been sent to give you a message.” They snickered, before beckoning you to come closer. Their grin never faltered as they spoke, it even looked like it grew wider if you looked close enough. The grass continued to tickle at your feet.

To their surprise, you deadpanned at them and immediately turned on your heel to walk away. You just wanted to enjoy this meadow more yet this weirdo disturbed your peace. Clicking their tongue, they grabbed you by the arm. 

“Wait,” They whispered in your ear, causing shivers to go down your spine. 

“Don’t you want to meet your lord and savior?”

“My lord and… what now?” Their grin grew even wider.

As they recounted stories about this king…. this King Of Dreams, you suddenly felt pulled to his very essence as your heart weighed heavier and heavier as the mysterious beauty described him to you. You tried to shake off this feeling, but you could not stop it from weighing over your shoulders.

A black feather (in the back of your head, it was telling you it was a raven’s) materialized itself in front of you along with a five pointed star. Your eyes darted to the alluring being beside you, before your hand slowly reached for them, as if they were calling you. 

And as soon as you touched both things, you were hit with the overwhelming knowledge and stories about him– about Morpheus. 

His form flashed in your mind, and your brain made sure to trace every little feature it can. From the shine on his ebony hair– to the cool ivory of his soft skin, to the elegant sweep of his raven black coat. And those eyes. Those eyes pierced your very being as you saw dreams, hope, and fantasy swirl into a vortex within them.

You fell to your knees, gasping softly, before looking up at the stranger with the golden eyes beside you. You felt your eyes pricking with tears as you burned his image in your mind. Your lord. Your savior.

They grinned once more, kneeling down and taking your hand in theirs before kissing your knuckles softly. 

“Is this not what you desire?”

You sighed wistfully as you finished the story, your hands clasped tightly together in a habit, while your friend just stared at you with worry and concern.

“Isn’t he wonderful-?” “Dude, I think you should look into paranormal investigators.”

After smacking your friend’s shoulder multiple times as they teased you under their breath whilst laughing, you both resumed doing the activity you planned to do. And it was almost like a switch was turned off. 

Whenever one asks about who you’re praying to, your face contorts into one of ecstasy and love. But if one were to change the subject, you’d get back to being your “normal self.”

Soon, the sky turned into a hue of dancing purples and blues– indicating your friend would have to take their leave. They bid you goodbye, ruffling your hair on their way to the door. You chuckled and waved goodbye, before the switch was turned on again.

You spent the rest of the evening worshiping and bomboarding your dearest deity with compliments. Your lips composed a ballad of praise and flattery entangled into an elegant dance reserved for him and only for him. 

Soon enough, soft murmurs filled the air as you felt overwhelming love and admiration pour from your heart, your eyes pricking with tears once again (ever since you became a proud devotee of his, this always seemed to happen). Gently wiping the tears from your eyes, you checked the time and quickly prepared to go to bed– excited to visit his realm.

~

Morpheus, even as he did not know he was capable of doing such a thing, gulped.

Morpheus heard it– he heard all of it. Your desperate prayers that you chanted like a mantra everyday, your eyes so full of devotion and sincerity. He didn’t know what to feel about it.

Frankly, Morpheus felt awfully awkward and stiff to be the subject of such high praises and worship. Let alone a mere mortal’s worship, in the modern times at that.

If Morpheus had it in him, he would cough awkwardly in his sleeve to disguise his confusion and stiffness, but he could not. All he could do was keep his head high and watch your dreams at the sidelines. And heaven’s name, they were always so detailed and vivid!

He sensed the air shift around him, alerting him of your slumber. Letting curiosity take over him, he personally went to your own dream, though he made sure not to let Lucienne and Matthew know (who were all too familiar with your antics).

Soon, Morpheus came face to face with what looked like a cathedral, temple, and chapel all mixed into one. Its shape was constantly changing in small yet noticeable details, referencing your mind’s subconsciousness on what this certain architecture represented.

Hesitantly, he pushed open the doors, making sure not to make a sound. His eyes scanned the area, looking for you before coming to a rest when he spotted you at the very front, kneeling and clasping your hands tightly like you always did.

Your soft low voice can be heard echoing throughout the building as you let out a breath and looked up at the art piece in front of you. He was pretty sure he could see a few tears stain the bench you were resting on.

Wait a minute.

Morpheus’ gaze followed yours…. Before he came face to face with a stained glass painting of… himself in all his naked glory, with only his helm and pouch among his person. The painting constantly shifted from being stained glass to a canvas painting. 

Morpheus did not know which one was worse or if either were flattering at all. (At least you had the decency to censor his private parts with a leg, he supposed.)

His usual brooding face was filled with bewilderment, intrigue, a bit of flattery, and disturbance. Even in your dreams you choose to worship him? Dream Of The Endless? Not even Desire? Death? Destiny? You chose him of all beings?

Morpheus vaguely hears the loud laughter of his sister as he tells her of your unwavering devotion.

He suddenly came to a still, something in the air had suddenly changed.

 Morpheus’ face of mixed emotions is suddenly replaced with alarm as he gazes at you sharply. Through means even he did not know of, you had somehow sensed he was in your dream. 

Your head quickly snapped back as your eyes met with his. His eyes widened and in an instant, Morpheus fled and dematerialized out of your dream. 

You awoke with a startle as you gasped for air, clutching your chest. You felt disoriented, mouth feeling dry as you looked over at the clock stand. 3:33 am. For a few moments, you focused on evening out your heavy breathing, drinking the cup of water that was on your bed stand. Soon however, your emotion of startle morphed into one of loving as you felt your face heat up. 

Putting a hand to your cheek, you looked above you with such adoration and affection. He visited. You grinned gleefully, bearing the image of a child receiving their favorite toy. You stayed like that for a few beats before deciding to go back to laying down and continue dreaming.

Morpheus, who was standing in the corner of your room could not do anything but watch you in utter bafflement as he saw how true and deep your never-dying devotion was.

Though he was never a being of many words, Morpheus had found himself truly at a loss for words.

~

You felt your own heartbeat quicken as you giddily prepared yourself some breakfast. The King Of Dreams personally visited you! You were chuckling and swaying as you felt your face heating up almost as hot as the eggs you were cooking. The King Of Dreams visited!

From outside your window, a certain talking raven looked at you with what could only be described as judgment and unease before he flew back to his master who was waiting just outside of your house. Morpheus looked at him expectantly, not daring to utter your name. 

If Matthew could, he would scratch the back of his head in nervousness.

“They’re… okay…. Nothin’ suspicious going on apart from the…'' The raven paused, unsure how to word this to his master who was already disassociating as we speak (can the endless even do that?), “.... usual.” He squeaked (squawked) out.

Morpheus let out a breath he did not know he was holding before he spoke with what sounded like encouragement to himself. “Very well.” He lifted his head up in fake confidence. “I shall speak with them.” Matthew tilted his head. 

“Uh... about what, boss?” About everything. He thought, and as though Matthew could read his mind, the raven nervously perched onto his shoulder as support.

You were happily transferring your breakfast from your pan to your plate, when a figure suddenly appeared in the middle of your kitchen, causing you to shriek and almost drop your breakfast. You quickly placed it on the table (making sure the food was unharmed) before putting your spatula in front of you in defense.

The tall dark man gazed at you pointedly, before raising an eyebrow at the spatula you had pointed at him. Your mind came to a stop as you took in his features. Black hair… Pale skin… A coat so long it pooled at the end…

Your eyes gazed over the raven perched on his shoulder, before you gasped as the fear in your features washed away.

“You’re…. You’re Dream.” You said, breathless.

“And you.. are wishing to defend yourself with that.” Was all he replied, gesturing vaguely to the spatula in your hands. 

You gasped and dropped the spatula. “Forgive me!”

Much to his and the raven’s surprise, you quickly pushed away your spatula and dropped to your knees in front of him, your forehead touching the floor. “My lord.” You said with so much passion and faithfulness, he could do nothing more but to tear his eyes away from your quivering form.

Morpheus stood there stiffly for a few moments, not knowing what to do. Sure, he’s had his fair share of worshippers but it’s been over centuries since he has seen someone so devoted to him in mind, body, and soul. He did not like this feeling. This feeling of uncertainty, of blundering. Morpheus did not like the feeling of being awkward.

He cleared his throat, stopping himself from shifting from one foot to the other. 

“You may rise.” Your eyes locked with him for a few moments, and it took all of his essence to not look away from your intense glistened gaze filled with adoration, passion, and devotion. He inhaled deeply. An endless should not yield to a mere mortal.

You slowly stood up, head still in a bow as a respect from him. You noticed his clenched knuckles and quickly shrank into yourself, not knowing what you had done wrong. Morpheus had taken notice of this and breathed in deeply to compose himself, before relaxing some of his own body parts.

“Tell me, dear dreamer,” He started in his honey-filled voice that you swore you could listen to for days. Faintly, you can hear your friends’ voice in the back of your head saying, “He should start a podcast!” 

“What is the purpose of your rather… intimate prayers to the King Of Dreams… and Nightmares?” Morpheus emphasized the last part as he had felt you often forgot about that. 

You grinned at him dopily, though. Much to his chagrin. “It’s because you’re my lord, Divine Dream Of The Endless.” You replied, tail practically wagging behind you. Matthew could only do what the equivalent of a facepalm to a bird is.

“You are my hope,” You started, “my love,” Morpheus took note of how ambiguous this statement was, “my passion, my dreams.” Your eyes were practically glittering at this point. Matthew swore he could see sparkles coming from around your aura. Morpheus scanned your face, no lie or deception was in sight. He felt his eye twitch, still very much so baffled and puzzled by your actions.

“You have so much devotion to give… yet you save it all for one such as myself.” You nodded, uncaring of judgment from the bird who had been staring at you for the past fifteen minutes,

“.... Why?”

You clasped your hands tightly together closely to your chest, the familiar look of lovesick adoration gracing our features once again. Matthew let out a puff of breath. Oh, brother.

“Because I know you, Divine Dream Of The Endless, My Lord Morpheus.”

Morpheus could not do anything but hopelessly stare at you, still very much shocked and partially flattered he was at your bold confession. 

It took him this much to realize that he'll never find his words with you. Even if he tried for all eternity.

~~~

author's note: HOO BOY THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE I HONESTLY JUST DROWNED MYSELF IN MY BRAIN AND THEN LET THE SPIRIT OF SIMPING FOR MORPHEUS POSSESS ME AND THEN BOOM THIS CAME OUT. hope u like it :DD also lmao i am amused at the thought that desire would give dream a human really passionate abt him bc they know how emotionally constipated he is and they just wanna mess with him

the markings of your dreams.

Pairing: Morpheus x Reader

Word count: 250

Content Warnings: None

"My dear dreamer," He started in his strong yet soothing voice. Shivers went down your spine as you practically could feel his powerful presence in the air.

"Why must you hate these calloused hands of yours so?"

Feeling bashful, you held them close to you as you shuffled in your place. You didn't dare to answer back.

"These hands of yours have created worlds," He started, looking up at the sky almost as if he was gesturing to your work, "creations that many have admired." His eyes glazed over your shoulders that sagged.

"Even if you believe otherwise."

He strided closer to you, causing you to slightly step back. You did not know if it was in fear or shame.

"These calloused hands of yours are the results of your creations in the waking world."

"Do not put yourself down to such degrees, do not underestimate yourself." He gently placed your hand in his, tracing the roughness of your palms and fingers.

"Your hands have carried the countless hours, days, weeks, months, years of your hardwork. All made in the name of passion."

The way he carefully ran his fingers over your rough hand made you almost believe that he was mesmerized– no, that he was fond of them.

"These are not scars nor are they imperfections, these are markings."

His lips pinched up slightly by the corners.

"Markings that bear the fruit of your aspirations."

He always adored his artists.

"Cherish them, for they are the proof of your ambition… The proof of your dreams."

a/n: idk why but the concept of dream really loving artists is so scrumptious to me also im kinda insecure abt my hands so theres that (i play guitar and draw alot 😭) anw have this short blurb i wrote in the middle of class

heads up!! i made a spotify playlist for this!! well,,, not really for this,,, actually this fic came from that playlist i made bc i brainrotted over morpheus so much

you can find it here! (fair warning tho it becomes a bit angsty in the second part bc of daydreams ive already forgotten about)

also im debating if i should write a sequel to this or just let it be its own thing 🤔

Divine Dream Of The Endless, I Shall Serve You So, My Lord Morpheus.

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream x Gender-Neutral!Reader

Trope: God x Worshipper, God x Devotee

Content Warning: Alluding to religious imagery, nothing spicy tho

Rating: Mature, Comedy (No Smut)

Summary: You’ve devoted your entire mortal being to Morpheus. He doesn’t understand why.

Word Count: 2,760

Disclaimer: This is only for fun and I am in no way shape or form trying to dictate what Morpheus would do!

~

You sighed dreamily as you looked up at the skies, hands clasped together tightly against your chest, whispering words of both tender and intimate worship to the one and only Lord Of Dreams And Nightmares. You don’t exactly dwell on the details of how it started– how this devoutness (some would say, obsession), for a seemingly forgotten god came from.

To put it bluntly, you didn’t mind people’s stares whenever you talked about your savior. Why would their words matter when only his did? Fortunately, your friends still supported you in any way they can (albeit with looks of worry and confusion).

“ ‘Lord’ Morpheus? You mean one of Hypnos’ many children?” Your friend who was particularly interested in mythologies asked. You and them had planned to meet up at your apartment to simply hang out. They figured that you needed at least a little time not wasting your every breath singing phrases to your supposedly fictional god. To their surprise, you vehemently shook your head in “no” before your eyes glistened as you thought about your lord even more. 

“He comes with many names, be it Oneiros, Morpheus, Shaper Of Forms, Kai’ckul,” A dopey smile adorned your face as your friend looked at you with slight concern and disturbance.

“Sandman, Lord Of Dreams, and–” You stopped to take a breath, breathing in heavily before exhaling in deep admiration. “Dream.”

As you talked on and on about how glorious and magnificent your one true savior is, your friend couldn’t help but just stare in shock at how extremely devoted and obsessed you were.

“How did this even start..?” Their question made you halt in your ramblings as your eyes glistened even more (if that was even possible) as you recounted the tale of how you came to know such a sacred figure or deity.

(Your friend could do nothing more but only get goosebumps as you talked more and more about him. It kind of sounded like you were in a cult.)

“Well, of course my lord introduced himself to me in his most beautiful creations…”

… A dream. It all started with a dream. You remember waking up in a meadow that was so peaceful you could just close your eyes and let yourself sink into the soil and let nature take its course. You laid there for a moment, basking in the seemingly absent sun and its rays, sighing deeply and enjoying the peacefulness.

The peacefulness was interrupted by a quiet russell in the bushes ahead of you.

You opened your eyes, slightly inconvenienced at the noise. Begrudgingly, you carefully got up in order to not disturb the local flowers you had spotted near you. As you made your way through the meadow, a being with greatly beautiful features that both scared and intoxicated you came into view.

They lifted their head up, their blonde hair swaying with the wind. Their beautiful gold eyes met with yours, before a cheshire grin took hold on their face.

They said your name in what would be the human equivalent of a purr, causing your face to heat up before you approached them slowly, feeling the light tickle of the grass on your feet.

“Who… Who are you…?” You asked meekly, mesmerized yet overwhelmed by their appearance. The wind pushed you away from them, almost as if warning you of their presence.

They looked pensively at you for a moment, before shrugging and speaking in a silky voice.

“Let’s just say… I’m a prophet that’s been sent to give you a message.” They snickered, before beckoning you to come closer. Their grin never faltered as they spoke, it even looked like it grew wider if you looked close enough. The grass continued to tickle at your feet.

To their surprise, you deadpanned at them and immediately turned on your heel to walk away. You just wanted to enjoy this meadow more yet this weirdo disturbed your peace. Clicking their tongue, they grabbed you by the arm. 

“Wait,” They whispered in your ear, causing shivers to go down your spine. 

“Don’t you want to meet your lord and savior?”

“My lord and… what now?” Their grin grew even wider.

As they recounted stories about this king…. this King Of Dreams, you suddenly felt pulled to his very essence as your heart weighed heavier and heavier as the mysterious beauty described him to you. You tried to shake off this feeling, but you could not stop it from weighing over your shoulders.

A black feather (in the back of your head, it was telling you it was a raven’s) materialized itself in front of you along with a five pointed star. Your eyes darted to the alluring being beside you, before your hand slowly reached for them, as if they were calling you. 

And as soon as you touched both things, you were hit with the overwhelming knowledge and stories about him– about Morpheus. 

His form flashed in your mind, and your brain made sure to trace every little feature it can. From the shine on his ebony hair– to the cool ivory of his soft skin, to the elegant sweep of his raven black coat. And those eyes. Those eyes pierced your very being as you saw dreams, hope, and fantasy swirl into a vortex within them.

You fell to your knees, gasping softly, before looking up at the stranger with the golden eyes beside you. You felt your eyes pricking with tears as you burned his image in your mind. Your lord. Your savior.

They grinned once more, kneeling down and taking your hand in theirs before kissing your knuckles softly. 

“Is this not what you desire?”

You sighed wistfully as you finished the story, your hands clasped tightly together in a habit, while your friend just stared at you with worry and concern.

“Isn’t he wonderful-?” “Dude, I think you should look into paranormal investigators.”

After smacking your friend’s shoulder multiple times as they teased you under their breath whilst laughing, you both resumed doing the activity you planned to do. And it was almost like a switch was turned off. 

Whenever one asks about who you’re praying to, your face contorts into one of ecstasy and love. But if one were to change the subject, you’d get back to being your “normal self.”

Soon, the sky turned into a hue of dancing purples and blues– indicating your friend would have to take their leave. They bid you goodbye, ruffling your hair on their way to the door. You chuckled and waved goodbye, before the switch was turned on again.

You spent the rest of the evening worshiping and bomboarding your dearest deity with compliments. Your lips composed a ballad of praise and flattery entangled into an elegant dance reserved for him and only for him. 

Soon enough, soft murmurs filled the air as you felt overwhelming love and admiration pour from your heart, your eyes pricking with tears once again (ever since you became a proud devotee of his, this always seemed to happen). Gently wiping the tears from your eyes, you checked the time and quickly prepared to go to bed– excited to visit his realm.

~

Morpheus, even as he did not know he was capable of doing such a thing, gulped.

Morpheus heard it– he heard all of it. Your desperate prayers that you chanted like a mantra everyday, your eyes so full of devotion and sincerity. He didn’t know what to feel about it.

Frankly, Morpheus felt awfully awkward and stiff to be the subject of such high praises and worship. Let alone a mere mortal’s worship, in the modern times at that.

If Morpheus had it in him, he would cough awkwardly in his sleeve to disguise his confusion and stiffness, but he could not. All he could do was keep his head high and watch your dreams at the sidelines. And heaven’s name, they were always so detailed and vivid!

He sensed the air shift around him, alerting him of your slumber. Letting curiosity take over him, he personally went to your own dream, though he made sure not to let Lucienne and Matthew know (who were all too familiar with your antics).

Soon, Morpheus came face to face with what looked like a cathedral, temple, and chapel all mixed into one. Its shape was constantly changing in small yet noticeable details, referencing your mind’s subconsciousness on what this certain architecture represented.

Hesitantly, he pushed open the doors, making sure not to make a sound. His eyes scanned the area, looking for you before coming to a rest when he spotted you at the very front, kneeling and clasping your hands tightly like you always did.

Your soft low voice can be heard echoing throughout the building as you let out a breath and looked up at the art piece in front of you. He was pretty sure he could see a few tears stain the bench you were resting on.

Wait a minute.

Morpheus’ gaze followed yours…. Before he came face to face with a stained glass painting of… himself in all his naked glory, with only his helm and pouch among his person. The painting constantly shifted from being stained glass to a canvas painting. 

Morpheus did not know which one was worse or if either were flattering at all. (At least you had the decency to censor his private parts with a leg, he supposed.)

His usual brooding face was filled with bewilderment, intrigue, a bit of flattery, and disturbance. Even in your dreams you choose to worship him? Dream Of The Endless? Not even Desire? Death? Destiny? You chose him of all beings?

Morpheus vaguely hears the loud laughter of his sister as he tells her of your unwavering devotion.

He suddenly came to a still, something in the air had suddenly changed.

 Morpheus’ face of mixed emotions is suddenly replaced with alarm as he gazes at you sharply. Through means even he did not know of, you had somehow sensed he was in your dream. 

Your head quickly snapped back as your eyes met with his. His eyes widened and in an instant, Morpheus fled and dematerialized out of your dream. 

You awoke with a startle as you gasped for air, clutching your chest. You felt disoriented, mouth feeling dry as you looked over at the clock stand. 3:33 am. For a few moments, you focused on evening out your heavy breathing, drinking the cup of water that was on your bed stand. Soon however, your emotion of startle morphed into one of loving as you felt your face heat up. 

Putting a hand to your cheek, you looked above you with such adoration and affection. He visited. You grinned gleefully, bearing the image of a child receiving their favorite toy. You stayed like that for a few beats before deciding to go back to laying down and continue dreaming.

Morpheus, who was standing in the corner of your room could not do anything but watch you in utter bafflement as he saw how true and deep your never-dying devotion was.

Though he was never a being of many words, Morpheus had found himself truly at a loss for words.

~

You felt your own heartbeat quicken as you giddily prepared yourself some breakfast. The King Of Dreams personally visited you! You were chuckling and swaying as you felt your face heating up almost as hot as the eggs you were cooking. The King Of Dreams visited!

From outside your window, a certain talking raven looked at you with what could only be described as judgment and unease before he flew back to his master who was waiting just outside of your house. Morpheus looked at him expectantly, not daring to utter your name. 

If Matthew could, he would scratch the back of his head in nervousness.

“They’re… okay…. Nothin’ suspicious going on apart from the…’’ The raven paused, unsure how to word this to his master who was already disassociating as we speak (can the endless even do that?), “…. usual.” He squeaked (squawked) out.

Morpheus let out a breath he did not know he was holding before he spoke with what sounded like encouragement to himself. “Very well.” He lifted his head up in fake confidence. “I shall speak with them.” Matthew tilted his head. 

“Uh… about what, boss?” About everything. He thought, and as though Matthew could read his mind, the raven nervously perched onto his shoulder as support.

You were happily transferring your breakfast from your pan to your plate, when a figure suddenly appeared in the middle of your kitchen, causing you to shriek and almost drop your breakfast. You quickly placed it on the table (making sure the food was unharmed) before putting your spatula in front of you in defense.

The tall dark man gazed at you pointedly, before raising an eyebrow at the spatula you had pointed at him. Your mind came to a stop as you took in his features. Black hair… Pale skin… A coat so long it pooled at the end…

Your eyes gazed over the raven perched on his shoulder, before you gasped as the fear in your features washed away.

“You’re…. You’re Dream.” You said, breathless.

“And you.. are wishing to defend yourself with that.” Was all he replied, gesturing vaguely to the spatula in your hands. 

You gasped and dropped the spatula. “Forgive me!”

Much to his and the raven’s surprise, you quickly pushed away your spatula and dropped to your knees in front of him, your forehead touching the floor. “My lord.” You said with so much passion and faithfulness, he could do nothing more but to tear his eyes away from your quivering form.

Morpheus stood there stiffly for a few moments, not knowing what to do. Sure, he’s had his fair share of worshippers but it’s been over centuries since he has seen someone so devoted to him in mind, body, and soul. He did not like this feeling. This feeling of uncertainty, of blundering. Morpheus did not like the feeling of being awkward.

He cleared his throat, stopping himself from shifting from one foot to the other. 

“You may rise.” Your eyes locked with him for a few moments, and it took all of his essence to not look away from your intense glistened gaze filled with adoration, passion, and devotion. He inhaled deeply. An endless should not yield to a mere mortal.

You slowly stood up, head still in a bow as a respect from him. You noticed his clenched knuckles and quickly shrank into yourself, not knowing what you had done wrong. Morpheus had taken notice of this and breathed in deeply to compose himself, before relaxing some of his own body parts.

“Tell me, dear dreamer,” He started in his honey-filled voice that you swore you could listen to for days. Faintly, you can hear your friends’ voice in the back of your head saying, “He should start a podcast!” 

“What is the purpose of your rather… intimate prayers to the King Of Dreams… and Nightmares?” Morpheus emphasized the last part as he had felt you often forgot about that. 

You grinned at him dopily, though. Much to his chagrin. “It’s because you’re my lord, Divine Dream Of The Endless.” You replied, tail practically wagging behind you. Matthew could only do what the equivalent of a facepalm to a bird is.

“You are my hope,” You started, “my love,” Morpheus took note of how ambiguous this statement was, “my passion, my dreams.” Your eyes were practically glittering at this point. Matthew swore he could see sparkles coming from around your aura. Morpheus scanned your face, no lie or deception was in sight. He felt his eye twitch, still very much so baffled and puzzled by your actions.

“You have so much devotion to give… yet you save it all for one such as myself.” You nodded, uncaring of judgment from the bird who had been staring at you for the past fifteen minutes,

“…. Why?”

You clasped your hands tightly together closely to your chest, the familiar look of lovesick adoration gracing our features once again. Matthew let out a puff of breath. Oh, brother.

“Because I know you, Divine Dream Of The Endless, My Lord Morpheus.”

Morpheus could not do anything but hopelessly stare at you, still very much shocked and partially flattered he was at your bold confession. 

It took him this much to realize that he’ll never find his words with you. Even if he tried for all eternity.

~~~

author’s note: HOO BOY THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE I HONESTLY JUST DROWNED MYSELF IN MY BRAIN AND THEN LET THE SPIRIT OF SIMPING FOR MORPHEUS POSSESS ME AND THEN BOOM THIS CAME OUT. hope u like it :DD also lmao i am amused at the thought that desire would give dream a human really passionate abt him bc they know how emotionally constipated he is and they just wanna mess with him

Rise of the Guardians boyfriend Scenarios

Master list

what you first thought of them.

-Jack Frost-

I can not believe that boy. He just thrown a snow ball at me. If he throws a nother one at me again, he will be so going down.

-Bunnymund-

Is that the easter bunny, wait a minute he is kind of cute for a pooka. Ok, no-no-no bad (Y/N)... Bad (Y/N) stop thinking that, he would definitely not go out with you are not even all that pretty.

-Sandman-

I feel so bad for sandy, I can not believe that no one can understand him all that well.

-(Young) North-

I can not believe it, Santa Claus is in my parents home. Wait am I blushing, ok stay come, stay come, at least my facecan not get even reder... And it just did, I'm red as a cherry.

Rise of the Guardians Boyfriend Scenarios.

Masterlist

A/N: All art originally along to its original owner which all credit goes to them. I don't own any of this so.

Your favorite picture of them:

-Jack Frost-

-Bunnymund-

-Sandman-

-(Younger) North-

Rise of the Guardians boyfriends scenarios

Masterlist

Them reacting to you speaking another language.

-Jack Frost-

When Jack found out you can speak another language, let's just say he was surprised. You learn how to speak another language from a friend of yours which was cool. The language that you knew how to speak was Swedish. After he was surprised he kept on asking you to teach him how to speak Swedish. (Which note it took you about a month to finally say yes.) Once you finally said yes it took you literally longer than you thought the help teach him since he would get distracted too easily. But in the end it was worth it since you enjoy teaching someone how to speak another language.

-Bunnymund-

When he found out you could speak another language which was Italian. I don't know how he could top this, but I'm going to say he was way more surprise then Jack would be. That would include to the point he would probably faint on the floor. Rather than that he would be mostly happy to know that you could speak another language besides English.

-Sandman-

Oh, this little bean would be so happy right now. Finding out that you can speak another language which was Russian. He was super happy, even more happy to know that you were speaking to his friend North in Russian. Since you have another person to speak Russian with now. (Which note you and North got along very well.) Other than that, most time Sandy would be very happy to know that you can speak another language and that the enjoyed you speaking it.

-(Younger) North-

Let's just say north of be super happy and excited to know that you can speak another language. He was very happy to find out that the language that you knew how to speak was icelantic. He was kind of curious why you wanted to learn how to speak it. When you told him that the language was dying he was surprised. But even so he was happy to know that you were speaking a language that you didn't, wants to die out and that also you enjoy speaking it.

Rise of the Guardians boyfriend scenarios

Masterlist

What your Center is.

-Jack Frost-

Your center is creativity.

-Bunnymund-

Your center is loyalty.

-Sandman-

Your center is peace.

-(Younger) North-

Your center is love.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐟.

𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴!

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄.

[ 𝐚 ] — angst

[ 𝐟 ] — fluff

[ 𝐬 ] — smut

more specific trigger warnings will be seen in the fic!

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐋 — [ 𝐚 ] , [ 𝐟 ]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘴: 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘺. 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭: 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘮

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬' 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬. — [ 𝐟 ]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬' 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 – 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧. — [ 𝐬 ]  >>> 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬. — [ 𝐟 ] 

𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗:

[ + ] 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴

𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒.

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. ⏤ [𝐟]

if you'd like to be tagged in everything i release for the sandman (series parts, headcanons, & imagines), please let me know in this shelf.

if you’d like to be tagged in just a specific series, then please let me know in that specific series’ masterlist.

shelf taglist   @aurorarevenclaw1927, @hueanhdang, @queen-taryn, @cyanide-mustard, @azrielloveselain, @sherazyjade, @missdreamofendless, @lothbrokcore

𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐋 | 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞/𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫.

⊹ pairing: morpheus x reader

⊹ summary: how the past hundred years have been for the wife, the king of dreams, and the nightmare

⊹ warnings: cursing, description of graphic violence

⊹ word count: 788

⊹ up next: prologue/teaser

a wife is on the run, and has been for the last hundred years.

she stopped briefly in boston, and now she pays the price. she looks on at the scene as two women and one man recreate the painting she stopped for to admire. 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴**, was the name of the painting. 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, **will be the name of the crime when news of it breaks out.

she can’t take her eyes away. even when she whispers at them to stop, they continue. the man still lies there, lifeless eyes boring into the wife’s for help she can no longer give. the woman is still hacking away at the man’s neck, and she won’t stop until the head is completely severed. the third woman is still holding the man down, as if he’s still resisting and not dead.

“i’m sorry,” the wife whispers. her words have no effect on any of them. not anymore. she hears voices start to shout. alarms begin to blare.

she takes a step back, trying not to throw up as she steps right into a puddle of the man’s blood. as she flees, her right foot leaves behind bloody prints on the floor.

this all happened because of her, of course. all because she thought she could rest for two seconds and stop running. she won’t make that mistake again.

she’ll keep running and won’t stop, as that’s what he last asked of her.

the king of dreams is trapped, and has been for the last hundred years.

in a basement in london, trapped in a glass bubble built by an amateur magician that was rodrick burgess, and confined by his pathetic son, alex burgess, who’s only act of freedom from his father had been to follow into his father’s footsteps, the king of dreams is breaking free.

he has more pressing matters to attend to, but his wounded pride, his ego, and his anger at being kept away from his wife, brings him to bestow a gift upon alex burgess so he may feel a fraction of the despair he had been forced to endure. only when he is done, then he returns home.

the black sand is cold and hard underneath him. this is the first touch of comfort he’s felt in a hundred years. lucienne, his ever so faithful librarian, rushes to his side and breathes in relief at the sight of him. he won’t admit it, but seeing there brings relief to him.

but it is _her _name he whispers first. he doesn’t need lucienne’s verbal answer to know. he is the dreaming, and the dreaming is him. he can feel the ghost of her touch over his kingdom, just as he can feel that she is not there. the mere thought that someone has taken her is enough for him to swallow an inch of his pride and accept lucienne’s help in standing. he is too weak now, but he won’t be for long.

he is coming for her, as that’s what he last promised her.

a nightmare is free, and has been for the last hundred years.

he sits in the apartment of his current lover. rain drips down the window, but the view of the new york skyline at night is just as visible as ever. the city is big and crowded, perfect for him.

“he’s free,” he says, slightly disappointed. has a hundred years passed that quickly? “he’s out of his cage.”

he wipes away a drop of blood trailing down from his eyes before standing. in the corner of his apartment, the news is on. tonight’s headline: insane women murders stranger. like all the past victims of this serial killer, they were driven insane, causing them to harm themselves and others. the nightmare smirks at the only mark the killer left behind: a trail of one right footprint in the same shoe size as he sent her last christmas.

“so, i’m afraid i’m gonna have to go,” he tells his lover. he moves to the mirror and buttons up his shirt. he needs to look his best for what was to come. for _him _and her. “and i’m not gonna stop until i’ve reshaped this world to look just like me.”

a flash of lightning outside illuminates his reflection. this nightmare, rather than possessing eyeballs, have mouths in their place instead. the nightmare slips his shades on before brushing his lover’s cheek as he walks past. his lover stares ahead without moving, his eyes missing from his sockets.

he will do whatever it takes to be free, as that’s what they made him to be.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗍 788 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌? 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌??? (𝗂’𝗆 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖼 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌.)

𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗋𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗈𝗏 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾'𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌.

𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @justviktormlolm, @aurorarevenclaw1927, @amirahroronoa, @sunna-fangirls, @mrs-captainsteverogers, @absbdbshhs, @urbanbts, @theamuz, @ac-procrastinator-13, @thegreatestsandwich, @julegrav009-blog, @harrypotter55, @blossomedfloweroflove, @lestaikkeullsokka, @thetrashypanda423, @ponyboys-sunsets, @izzicle, @dilfsandtherapy, @mischiefmanaged71, @grippleback-galaxy, @cynic-spirit, @thecrazytealady, @violet-19999, @junobutbored, @avanisbored, @redskull199987, @bilesxbilinskixlahey, @ladymoon666, @celestialceremonials, @mm2305, @ttae-yong

𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬.

⊹ pairing: the corinthian x reader

⊹ summary: how your favourite nightmare loves. this is a slightly dark version, as the corinthian is a nightmare. you don't expect someone like him to love someone in a good, pure way, do you?

⊹ warnings: descriptions of violence (eyeball popping), borderline nsfw (in par with his character since his only scenes are either being a serial killer or serial fucker)

⊹ word count: 3193

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 with a voice that oozes charisma and is thick and sweet like honey, (makes you want to open your mouth to him), you bet words will be the love language he uses in abundance. but is he talking to you sweetly or manipulating you? does it really matter?

morpheus seems to have given the corinthian the verbal skills he himself lacks

this nightmare is a talker. as you can see by how hooked everyone is on his words, from little jed, naive rose, and by inspiring a cult of serial killers, this man knows how to use his looks and his words to get people to do what he wants: to trust him

but the first time he meets you, he is speechless

the person he's talking to and who he was going to kill later that evening, is forgotten as he's too struck to do anything else but look at you curiously. your eyes meet across the room, and the room goes in a bit of a haze as all he can see is you.

obsessed with you immediately, and he doesn't even know why (guess he takes after his creator in having intense, all-consuming relationships)

approaches you and talks to you immediately. in minutes, has your back against a wall, his body covering yours from others and has your attention the entire night. has one hand on the wall beside your head

stands close enough that you can smell his aftershave and woodsy cologne

he has never lathered on as much sweet talk to a person as he did that night to you

by the end of the night, you are as consumed by him as he is by you

he loves to talk to you. domestic bliss with him is him telling you all about his day—the weather, the news, what he had for lunch

abundance of pet names, but mostly sweetheart, baby, and a little darling—all said with that slowed, drawl of his that just hearing is enough to make you tense and your breath hitch

enter: praise talk (is this still sfw?)

he'll praise you for every single thing you do, and make it sound like you did it for him. after awhile, you get used to his praises and get hooked on it. you start doing things just to hear him praise you, and don't you worry, he will

he does this thing where he watches you from the side as you do something, then he'll praise you

"i see you for who you truly are." (did i just take out of context the quote he said to serial killers? yes)

builds up your self confidence with an onslaught of compliments and praise

"you look beautiful, darling."

"with that on, everyone in the room will be staring at you and grow envious of me for being with you."

never lets you doubt yourself and your abilities for one second

is actually quite encouraging for whatever your aspirations are. who is he to judge, after all?

the first time you try to take someone's eyeballs, he's standing off to the side, leaning cooly against the wall, his tongue running over his lips from how dry they've become at watching the person he loves doing something he loves. but taking eyeballs is careful work, and you fail. the nerve snaps in half

at the first dismayed sound you release, he's by your side immediately and cupping your face, murmuring reassurances that you did so well for the first time and he's so proud of you

he shows you how proud by taking your hand and placing it over the tent in his pants

the first time you successfully take someone's eyeballs, his praises are said with a voice low and from the back of his throat

"well done, sweetheart."

"you did so good, baby. so good."

he moves in front of you and takes the eyeballs from your hand, but you move your hand away. he's confused at first, but then you raise your other hand towards his shades and remove them—all while looking at him with innocent eyes that have become slightly hooded with lust and adrenaline

he drops to a fucking knee and tilts his head up at you. he looks at you reverently, like you are the only higher being he'd submit to. he holds onto your wrist, more to steady himself than control you, as you bring the eyeball to one of his eyes (or is it still called mouths?), never breaking eye contact all the while

and when he's done, and you kiss away the blood that escapes down his cheek, he rises and kisses you hard and leaving you with no sense of direction but him, him, him

𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 the corinthian has always been demanding with your time, but after morpheus is released, he starts bringing you everywhere you go. he doesn't know if it's to keep you safe so morpheus can't take you from him, or him just wanting to spend as much fleeting time as he can with you.

the two of you are stuck to the hip, and it's not you being clingy, but him, not that he'd ever admit it

it's him who insists that he go everywhere with you in case something bad happens?

corruption kink

you're definitely innocent the first time he meets you. but there's something in your eyes that's not quite...right. you're innocent but accepting. too accepting. meaning you'll see a person commit the most atrocious act and still somehow understand them. empathize with them

it turns him on, not gonna lie

takes you with him on his kills

the first time he does, it's a test to see if you'll scream and run away and he has to take your eyeballs

you don't and pass his test

the next few times, you don't do anything. you just stand or sit to the side while he does his usual thing at the office

but one day, he sees it. a glint of interest in your eye. the tilt of your head that tells him you're interested in whatever you're watching and trying to memorize it.

he confirms his suspicions when he beckons you to come over to him with a tilt of his head. he nearly forgets to kill his victim as he's too busy kissing you against the wall

from then on, you alternate

while killing them is more satisfying to him, it's the way you feed him afterwards that makes him willing to let you kill since that intimacy always brings him to his knees

but during off hours when you're both not being an infamous serial killer couple, you both like to sightsee

the corinthian has been to a lot of places in the past hundred years, and has grown to like travelling just so he can experience many countries'…delicacies

you accompany him as you fly business class everywhere. coliseum in rome. great wall of chine. northern lights in iceland

he's also a surprisingly good babysitter

exhibit a: that episode with jed (yes, he was lowkey kidnapping him), showed that he's good at handling them. (he teased jed if he wanted to drive and kept him safe from that one serial killer)

so when the time comes that you ask him to babysit someone with you, he's actually quite good

the kids like and trust him immediately

seeing you with them could give you baby fever, and the smirk on his face tells you he knows what he's doing

he's that cool, laidback dad who lets you do things the other parent doesn't as long as you keep your mouth shut for it

(why am i alternating between nsfw headcanons and dad headcanons?)

𝗽𝗵𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 did you see how firm yet gentle he was with the people he hooked up with? this nightmare will caress you too ruin

caress

that's the only appropriate word to describe how this man touches you. the brush of his knuckles against your cheek while you sit on the edge of the bed while he stands in between your legs

sometimes closes your eyes with the pad of his thumb and gently rubs it

some couples get kisses on the cheek or the forehead

you get them on your eyes

he'll gently close them with the paid of his thumb and rub it slightly. then he presses a soft, lingering kiss against that soft, fragile skin that protects the organ he loves the most

has a thing for pushing you against objects when kissing you (exhibit b: pushes roommate-lover against bed, pushes fake serial killer-lover against wall)

shoves you on the bed before getting on top of you

pushes you against a wall, hands cupping both sides of your face, forcing you to stay still as he kisses his way with you

grows aware that you need oxygen to breathe but he needs your kisses more than you need that

the first time you remove his glasses, he's surprised at how intimate that is, and how he falters at your touch. the first time you do it is also the first time he realizes that his emotions for you surpass lust and he might actually love you—whatever that entails

and when this does happen, he just gets so much more protective of you

and possessive

in public, hand always on your waist

kisses you (with tongue and lip biting) for the entire world and their mother to see

might even kiss you in front of morpheus to show off to his maker what he has and what morpheus doesn't

even with shades on, there's still intense eye contact

it's the way his entire body faces you

does this thing where he stands behind you, his chest warm and flush against your back. crooks a finger around your hair to brush it back, then hovers his lips right next to your ear so you can feel his whispers and it makes you shiver. he then presses a kiss to your neck, as if he's pleased with the reaction he's elicited from you

you know that couple thing where the boy will stand behind a girl and put his hands over hers as he teaches her how to play golf, or do billiards, or during pottery? that's him when teaching you the proper way to pop out an eyeball

his calloused hands wrapping over your soft hands around the hard handle of a knife

that same hand trailing up your arm, down the side of your chest, brushing your waist, then coming to a rest on your hip as he grips you slightly while bending you over

the protectiveness that grows after morpheus is freed, is also laced with a desperation to stay with you

on one hand, he holds out hope that he'll stop morpheus from taking him so he can stay with you. on the other hand, there's a feeling of inevitability and he can feel himself running out of time with you

he becomes softer but firmer with you

each kiss lasting longer than the last

starts to savour you. whispers his last prayers against your skin. draws his apologies on your arms

he stares at you more often, as if trying to commit your face to memory because if he is unmade, it could be centuries that have passed before he is made again. he doesn't know if he'll retain memories of you, but either way, you'll be long gone

and when the time comes that morpheus catches up to him and he is unmade, morpheus is able to feel the genuine love the corinthian had for you

because the corinthian didn't want you to stay with him, but him to stay with you

you become the corinthian's sole redeeming quality, and as you wail and plead against morpheus' coat to bring him back or to unmake you too, morpheus takes pity and grant your wish: which one is up to you to decide

𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗰𝗲 what else do you expect a serial killer nightmare to do for the person he loves? kill for them, of course. scaring others is what he was made for anyways

the first time you tell him someone's been giving you some trouble at school or at work, that someone ends up dead with their eyeballs taken out

the corinthian takes you out for dinner in a restaurant directly in front of that someone's apartment. as you eat dinner in front of a window, rather than be engrossed in the flickering candlelights, you focus on the blue and red lights of the police cars and hear the ambulance sirens as they load the dead body up to an ambulance that's heading straight to the morgue

happens every time you tell him about someone giving you trouble, even if it was just them cutting in line by accident. sometimes, he tells you what he did to them. other times, he doesn't

it's no problem to him, really. think of it as you packing him a little...snack

given that he bleeds charisma, parties are a regular occurrence for both of you

he makes you be his plus one to the parties he's invited to, and when you're invited to go to a party, he expects you to ask him to be your plus one as well

always has a hand around your waist during these events

kisses your cheek occasionally

if you're wearing lipstick and you leave a kiss mark against the bottom of his jaw, he won't wipe it away

might even intentionally move his head to the side to expose it, like it's a badge of honour

apart from killing others though, i don't think he'd go out of his way to do much else for you. at least, domestic things.

why would you need to cook if he can just hire a maid? folding laundry? maid. walking the dog? hires someone

but the one thing he always makes sure you do is eat (exhibit c: he asks jed if he wants more ice cream)

whether it's because you're so accepting of his diet or just because he puts a lot importance in eating, meals are the one thing he always looks out that you do correctly

and it's not just ensuring you eat three meals a day

but eating three healthy meals

he cooks for you—whatever you want. hell, he even learns to cook for you. it's the one thing he doesn't hire a maid for

you feed him, he feeds you mindset

always orders more of his meal because he knows you like to take some of his

unless you have a good, healthy reason for going on a diet, he won't entertain it

ice cream after dinner is a must

has your coffee order memorized, and you can trust him to order ahead at a restaurant

always drives you everywhere with a hand on your thigh that slowly creeps up

gives you his suit jacket when he's cold—and that's how you know it's true love

but the biggest act of service he does for you is not bring you to the cereal convention

it's not about not wanting to expose you to serial killers, but rather morpheus

though he hopes that he might walk out, on the event that he doesn't, he breaks his need to bring you everywhere and keep you at home

all so you don't see him be unmade, as he fears it will break you

and it would have

his last act of love to you

𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 have you seen the expensive suits he always wears? this man lavishes himself and his serial killer lifestyle, so he'll do the same for you

like his creator, this man is a giver. it might be one of the things morpheus put from himself in him

if he can dress in an expensive suit everyday all while maintaining its pristine state given his...lifestyle, then he expects the same from you too

introducing: matching outfits

you wouldn't think he's one for it, but he is. maybe not identical, but in a cool, stylish way that makes it clear the two of you are meant to be seen together and as one

suits or dresses that compliments his outfits

and it's not you matching to him, but the other way

he wants to match with you

he always waits for you to get ready and pick out an outfit first before going through his closet and finds a suit that matches

and jewellery

he strikes me as someone who wants to give his partner jewellery for them to wear—his way of marking them, so make sure to always wear one

necklace (choker), anklet, belt, hair accessory, ring

always watches you put it on. he likes its when he's the one putting it on, but falls to his knees (is his knees okay?) when you ask him to help you put it on

you need help putting your necklace on? turn around and he'll brush a finger down the nape of your neck, enjoying the way you shiver, as he clasps the necklace and places a kiss where the metal and your skin meets

might even leave a hickey

and if you wear socks or stockings, he'll drop to his knees (there he goes again) and slowly rolling the fabric up your legs, going higher and higher. kisses your inner things while he's there. his hands keeps climbing and climbing until his hand reaches your—

ahem.

black card user

"you want to go shopping? take my card, baby."

when the bill goes to his phone for what you bought, he sends you a text praising you for using it and says he can't wait to see you try it on

and if it's lingerie, he might ask for a photo and tell you to come home so he can see and take it off—

sets aside a trust for you

you get to take advantage of his lavish lifestyle. you don't really own a home, but instead live out for a few months at a time in various five star hotels before moving on

and if you do bring up settling down, he'll just smile at you and explain patiently why he can't settle down and why he wouldn't be able to bear being so far away from you for such long periods of time.

"i can't live that far from you, baby. can you live without me for that long?"

and how can you argue with that logic?

so you stay with him. and he gives you presents to praise your "choice"

yes, he loves to give you gifts. but more important, he wants you to love them

he likes seeing the special containers you put the jewellery he gifts you in and how you handle them so carefully, as if treating them as an extension of him and his love for you

and when you lose him, they are all that remains of him

and perhaps morpheus takes pity on you as he sees the genuine love you have for him

he uses his sand to recreate a better version of the corinthian using one of the objects he gave you

then maybe it's your turn to corrupt this new corinthian to change him back into the version you know and love

and that's okay

in conclusion, while i might not have been in love with mr. mouths-for-eyes, writing this headcanon and witnessing my eventual failure from keeping sfw might have changed my mind. he does, after all, have a very nice voice...

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗎𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇: 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁-𝖾𝗒𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈? 𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗈u𝗍𝗁𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌? 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌? 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽.

𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈, 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇'𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌'? 𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗂𝗅𝗌? 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇, 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖾, 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌' 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗐𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾. 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗒—

𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌: 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘶𝘴' 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘶𝘴' 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @aurorarevenclaw1927, @juniebugg

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐋 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢.

⊹ pairing: morpheus x reader

⊹ summary: you're missing, and morpheus nearly goes insane in longing and desperation in his search for you

⊹ tags: angst, morpheus copes (he doesn't) with you gone, established relationship

⊹ warnings: spoilers for 1.06, 1.07, & 1.08

⊹ word count: 3039

⊹ previous part: prologue/teaser

⊹ up next: part ii

⊹ now playing: everything i wanted by billie eilish

𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙, 𝚒 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎

The first person Morpheus swallows his pride and asks for helping regarding your whereabouts, is his sister.

After enduring an earful from her not of not trusting her and being too prideful to ask for help when you were concerned, Death reassures him that she did not reap you in the years you were gone.

"I kept my word to you, brother. I did not touch Y/N. But I have reaped many who came across her," Death says.

"Y/N killed them?" Morpheus asks, surprised. Though the laws that keep an Endless from hurting mortals does not apply to you, you tried not to take their lives anyway.

"No. At least, not directly." Death drops her voice to a whisper. "The humans call her the Lady of the Whispers. She's a notorious serial killer, Dream!"

"Have you talked to her?"

Death shakes her head. "She hasn't allowed me to get close to her. I sometimes see her when I reap the humans she leaves behind, but she never says anything to me. She just runs away."

They are silent for a while. Morpheus aggressively throws a chunk of bread at a pigeon, hitting it on the head, while Death makes small conversation with a man playing soccer.

"I think she's using her powers," she says finally.

"She would never abuse it," he says immediately. He might not know what you were doing or why you were doing it, but his trust in your remains unwavering. There was a reason you possessed the power you did.

"You need to find her, brother," Death says. "Before someone finds her first."

She faces the street as a car collides with the man playing soccer. Unbeknownst to the man in question, he jogs over with the ball, whistling at how the car had missed him. Death gives him a warm smile and links their arms as she proceeds to explain while they walk away.

Morpheus' gaze darkens at her back, and for a moment, his eyes look like hot, twin white stars. "I know," he says quietly.

Hob Gadling is the second person he swallows his pride for you for.

"I haven't seen her since the last time I saw the two of you together a few centuries back," Hob says.

'A few centuries back' was when he and Hob had a fight after Hob accused him of being in need of companionship. In Morpheus' defence, he was more prideful then. More than that, to suggest he was lonely despite having you, his wife, was an insult to you that he would not stand for. It had been you who demanded he apologize, but by the time he followed you to the pub (his punishment had been your refusal to hold his arm) Hob was gone.

"You better show up here in a hundred years," you told him firmly.

"For you, my love, I will. Now give me your hand before someone mistakes you for not being taken for."

You lightly hit his arm. "Not for me, Morpheus! For Hob! He's your friend, whether you like it or not. And you need someone apart from me. Who will you have if something happens to me and we are apart?"

He hadn't glorified that question with an answer. He simply grabbed your hand himself and refused to let go.

His capture led him to missing his and Hob's next appointment and being late to fulfilling his promise to you. But here he was, fulfilling it, and you weren't here to see it or to finally offer your hand.

Morpheus sighs heavily as he straightens in his seat.

"Just because I haven't seen Y/N, doesn't mean I haven't heard about her," Hob says. Though the New Inn is boisterously loud, Hob drops his voice to a hush and leans forward. "I hear there's a bounty on her head."

Morpheus looks at him warningly. "Have you tried to claim it?"

"What? No! Of course not! The opposite. She's more my friend than you are. I tried to offer her refuge, but she never replied to my attempts at contacting her. I did manage to see her once by pure coincidence."

Morpheus doesn't bother trying to contain his eagerness. "How did she look? Did she say anything about me?"

"She looked terrible," Hob admits. "Exhausted and always looking over her shoulder. And no, she didn't say anything about you. She didn't say anything at all, actually. It was quite odd. Maybe her tongue got cut off—"

"I'll cut your tongue off, Hob Gadling, if you dare voice such insolent thoughts again about my wife."

Hob chugs the rest of his drink in apology. But Hob's words aren't the first time Morpheus heard you refusing to talk to anyone. The few dreams and nightmares who also caught a fleeting glimpse at you also reported that although you recognized them, you didn't utter a single word to them. A normal person would have taken this as confirmation that you had turned your back on your duties as his wife and Lady of the Dreaming. But Morpheus knew you. He had loved you for more years than you were official his. That, plus the murders associated in your wake, causes the suspicions in Morpheus to grow.

He needs to find you.

Sooner rather than later, if not for his sanity, then for the good of the waking world.

Morpheus enters his throne room, exhaustion and longing for you nearly bringing him to his knees.

He doesn't have the strength to walk all the way up his staircase, so he settles for sitting on the fourth step—your step—and drapes his coat around him.

His throne room is large and barren—a sign that your touch was missing. When you were by his side, you had conjured ivies to scale the walls and flowers to drip from the ceiling. The multi-coloured lights from the stained glass windows would blend nicely with the streaks of gold from the candlelights and chandeliers you had placed throughout. The mere presence of you brought him warmth.

Morpheus doesn't think he'd ever felt as cold as he does now.

Outside, he hears hushed whispers between Mervyn, Matthew, and Lucienne. They are debating whether not is the right time or not to ask him about you, or if that'll earn them a front row seat to being unmade.

Truthfully, Morpheus doesn't know what he'll do either. All he knows is that he's so tired and misses you, like a starving man longs for food or a drowning man desperate for air. The pain of missing you makes it hard to move, but it's the thoughts of you that threatens to drive him insane—neither is a good state to be in for the Endless responsible for everyone's dreams.

If they were drawing sticks, Lucienne must have pulled the short end.

She sticks her head past the door, not daring to take another step. "May I disturb you, lord?" she says, attempting to hide the fear in her voice by sounding cool and formal as she normally does.

Though he barely had two seconds to rest, he pushes himself up. "Speak, Lucienne."

She takes a deep breath before crossing the room to him. She talks about menial things first, like how Cain and Abel seem to have accepted his apology with Goldie and how the dream folk are planning to throw a celebration for his return, which they have invited him to come.

He says no. It was always you who dragged him to these things, and you are not there.

"What is it you really want to ask, Lucienne?"

"It's not only from me," she says slowly, "but your other subjects as well."

Morpheus already knows what she's going to say, and at the thought of your name, his exhaustion grows heavier against his limbs, threatening to send him to the floor.

"Now that your tools have been returned to you, and many of your subjects are back in the Dreaming, the dream folk are wondering where Lady Y/N is and why you have not come for her yet."

"I do hope that question is not from lack of faith that I have abandoned my wife," Morpheus says sourly, although he knows that is not the case. Lucienne had already been by his side when he met you. She witnessed the years he pined after you, counselled him into acting on his emotions and courting you, and it was she who officiated your wedding and watched the blissful years after. While he appreciated Lucienne's loyalty to him as his librarian, he also knows Lucienne and you had become close enough to be friends, to the point that she would sometimes let go of formalities and call you by her name. If anyone was to know how much you meant to him, it would be her.

"Of course not, lord," Lucienne says, as expected, "but it has been days since you have returned to full strength. How can you bear to be away from her any more than you have to?"

"I cannot."

Lucienne pauses. "My lord?"

"I cannot bear being from her for so long," Morpheus admits, and he lets his tiredness show by taking his seat on your step once more. He sighs heavily as he looks up at her. "She is my wife, Lucienne."

"Perhaps you can ask your siblings—"

"No." Morpheus scowls at the idea. He had already done enough by asking Death and a human. If any of his other siblings found out he was incapable of finding you—Desire, especially—then there would be real cause to fear for your safety.

"I can still feel her," Morpheus murmurs. "She is somewhere out there, alive. I will find her, Lucienne. You can tell my subjects that their lady will be back."

"You know," Lucienne says after a pause. "That was the last thing Y/N said about you."

Morpheus tries not to recoil from what her words imply. According to Lucienne, you had not entered the Dreaming since your last attempt at rescuing him, which was also the day Jessamy died. As heartbroken as he was witnessing the death of his beloved raven, he was even more terrified at what could have happened to you that prevented you from protecting Jessamy. You never would have let her go down to that basement unguarded and unprotected. You cared for the bird more than Morpheus did. Whatever happened that day, whatever stopped you from going downstairs, must be linked to whatever you were running from.

But what? What could you possibly be running from?

Was it him? Had the century of being apart taught you that you didn't love him as much as you thought you did, and like his other dreams and nightmares, you took your shot at freedom and left? Was he the threat you were running from?

"I will find her," Morpheus repeats. "But wherever she is, she must be safe." Lucienne frowns but he continues. "No one knows who she truly is to me, and she would not have told others. She has to be safe—"

"She is not safe, lord Morpheus."

He looks up at her immediately. Suddenly, he's standing before her and Lucienne takes a step back in surprise.

"What did you say?" he asks lowly, the words scratching his throat.

"Forgive me, lord. I thought you were aware."

He shoots her a look, as if to remind her where he had been the past century. "Aware of what, Lucienne?"

"There is a bounty on lady Y/N's head."

Morpheus struggles not to stagger back. Was this another one of Desire's games? Perhaps Desire had looped Despair into one of their ploys? Though Desire had not been invited to the wedding, Delirium had been, and he had no doubt Desire's had intimidated their youngest sibling into telling them everything.

"For what?" he manages. "Because she's my wife?"

"For being your wife," Lucienne answers, "and for being one of your tools."

For a few seconds, he is unable to speak. He simply stares at Lucienne, waiting for her to say she was joking or mistaken, but she does neither. The secrecy of you being one of his tools was the only thing Morpheus had to reassure himself that you were safe. But if that was out, then...

Lucienne meets his gaze, reaffirming the truth behind her words.

"That's not possible," he finally says. "Few people knew of that ceremony. Fewer still attended and can confirm it happened."

"It was the Corinthian, sir."

The Corinthian. His pride and joy. His greatest masterpiece and the first nightmare you helped him with.

His rogue nightmare left a bitter taste in Morpheus' mouth. The Corinthian had been at the power transference ceremony—a sign that Morpheus truly loved his nightmare the most. His defiance was already heartbreaking enough, but now this? You? This was unforgivable.

Morpheus didn’t even want to imagine what sort of prize could be promised for the wife of an Endless, let alone for being one of his tools. Was that what he left you? Loneliness and enemies? Did you resent him for that? Was that why you had not returned or called to him for help? He had no reason for falling out of love with you in the century you were apart, but it seems that you had plenty of reasons to fall out of love with him.

"My theory is that something happened between him and her the day she ran away. What, I do not know. But Matthew reported the same thing: he heard whispers of a bounty placed on the wife of the Dream King by the Corinthian."

Rage simmered in Morpheus, and the Dreaming responded as such. Across his realm, the land trembled. Volcanoes bloomed and exploded, lava rapidly surging forth as a message to the Dreaming’s inhabitants that all was at the mercy of their king and his rapidly declining patience at his missing wife.

But in the library, Morpheus remains eerily still. "You may go conduct that census now, Lucienne," he says.

She stands there for a few more moments, as if wondering whether she should press the problem that was you. Thankfully, her years of servitude has taught her of his limits, and she departs with a dip of the head.

Morpheus waves his hand, locking the doors behind her. Only then does he released a long, exhausted breath as he sinks to his back on your step. A hot tear spills over his cheek as he touches the step, remember the days you and him have spent on it. Talking sometimes, kissing on others. He can feel your lips on him still, but it's starting to fade like a dream.

He is drowning in his grief for you. If missing you had not been enough, now he is plagued with fear that perhaps you did not want to be found. Did you blame him for your predicament? Did you hate him? Morpheus doesn't think he'd be able to handle not seeing love in your eyes if you look at him? And if he sees resentment, he thinks that might just break him.

How painful it is, he thinks, to grieve for the living. How unbearably painful it is.

It takes Lucienne a few days to conduct the census.

When she finishes, Morpheus is in a slightly better mood. She talks about the census first, then the three major missing arcana: Gault, the Corinthian, and Fiddler's Green. One was unsurprising, the second expected, but Fiddler's Green was hurtful. It was in Fiddler's Green he had married you, after all. Now he had lost another part of you.

When Lucienne brings up the vortex, Morpheus is smiling as he corrects her on the vortex not being an 'it' but a 'she'.

Lucienne eyes him suspiciously. "You don't seem worried."

"Rose Walker will be my answer and solution," Morpheus declares.

"But she is a vortex. She is not a solution. She is one of our problems!"

"You said it yourself, Lucienne. She is a vortex. Sooner or later, she will bring them all to her: Gault, the Corinthian, Fiddler's Green. My wife."

Lucienne is struck silent for a few moments, and he can see that is she is torn between listening to her duty as the Dreaming’s librarian and her loyalty to you as her friend. In the end, she picks duty, and Morpheus does not blame her for that. Neither would you, if you heard her. After all, you would have said the same thing.

"But she could destroy the realm first," Lucienne says nervously.

"I will take that risk if it means finding her. I've built my realm once and rebuilt it another time. With my wife back at my wise, both will be easier to accomplish."

"But sir—"

"I will hear none of this any longer. You may go tell my subjects that the Lady of the Dreaming will be returning son." Morpheus smiles towards the ceiling at his conjured image of Rose Walker. "I will ensure it."

When Rose Walker dreams her way to his throne room, uninvited but welcomed, Morpheus' worry about the vortex' growing powers is superseded by the hope that you will find your way to her soon enough.

"She shouldn't be here," Lucienne says agitatedly.

"No," Morpheus says, eyeing his solution with fascination, "but I should like her to stay."

As he explains to her what and where she is, he thinks of you. "I need you to look for someone for me, Rose Walker," Morpheus says as he finishes circling her. "Y/N. She is neither a dream or a nightmare. She is my wife. When you find her, you must tell me. But first, I need you to tell her something."

Morpheus bends close and Rose and whispers the words into her ear. he waits for her to nod in understanding before straightening.

"But how will I know who she is?" Rose asks. "Do you have a picture?"

Morpheus turns towards the painting on the wall of you. He points to the marble statue in the midst of the water fountain that is of your body, which he had carved with his own bare hands from memory. Then he summons a flower to spiral down from the ceiling and land in Rose's palm. All mementos of you.

"Believe me," Morpheus says with a smile. "You'll know it's her. My wife is...unmistakeable."

"Can I have her name, at least?"

"Y/N," Morpheus says tenderly. He always says your name that way. Borderline a reverent whisper like you are the goddess he's praying to. "Her name is Y/N."

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ…

Your throat is throbbing. You touch your throat gingerly, and you don't need a mirror to know that the handprints of that man are visible against your skin. But even as you cough, the motion raw against your raw throat, you don't stop running.

You catch sight of a hotel, and you feel relief as you turn away from the road and bolt up the hill to the building. It'll be easier to hide in one of the many rooms, but the guarantee of people in the hotel was cause for concern. But as long as you keep your mouth shut, all should be fine.

You slow into a walk as you pass a trio of people in the parking lot. Name tags dangle from their chest, one of who is named, The Music Teacher. In the centuries you've been alive, you've never heard such an in-depth and seriously spoken topic about their favourite methods of cooking barbecue and collecting grills.

As you hurry inside, you pass by a sign that reads: CEREAL CONVENTION.

ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ…

09/03/22 𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁: 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 24 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗒𝗑 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗃𝖺𝗒. 𝗂'𝗆 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌!

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝖿𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝖼𝖾? 𝖺𝗆 𝗂 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍? 𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗌𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗒 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾?

𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀? 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗎𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗋, 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽!

𝖿𝗒𝗂 𝗂 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗎𝗉 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇. 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗀𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋. 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒. 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋𝗌.

╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵!

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

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @justviktormlolm, @aurorarevenclaw1927, @amirahroronoa, @sunna-fangirls, @mrs-captainsteverogers, @absbdbshhs, @urbanbts, @theamuz, @ac-procrastinator-13, @thegreatestsandwich, @julegrav009-blog, @harrypotter55, @blossomedfloweroflove, @lestaikkeullsokka, @thetrashypanda423, @ponyboys-sunsets, @izzicle, @dilfsandtherapy, @mischiefmanaged71, @grippleback-galaxy, @cynic-spirit, @thecrazytealady, @violet-19999, @junobutbored, @avanisbored, @redskull199987, @bilesxbilinskixlahey, @ladymoon666, @celestialceremonials, @mm2305, @ttae-yong

𓅨 Eros Masterlist

Eros: Married to Dream of the Endless, you find yourself sent back in time to Ancient Greece where you, unfortunately, meet Oneiros. Fresh off a divorce and drowning the sorrows of his son's death by indulging in the Panathenaia, you find yourself trapped beneath the lustful gaze of your future husband. In your defense, he seduced you first…

Overall Warnings: Filthy Explicit Material, Explicit Language, Time Travel, Morpheus getting jealous of his past self, Hoe!Dream, DILF!Dream, Seduction at its finest.

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

Total Word Count: ~24.5k

Legend:

❗ = Explicit Sexual Material

𓅨 Chapter One

𓅨 Chapter Two

𓅨 Chapter Three❗

𓅨 Chapter Four❗

𓅨 Chapter Five❗

𓅨 Chapter Six❗

𓅨 Chapter Seven

𓅨 Chapter Eight❗

Date Published: 12/30/23

Date Completed: 6/19/24

Last Edit: 6/19/24

Morpheus/Dream Masterlist

Perfection

~Dreaming of him~ - Morpheus x female Reader (not sfw)

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

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

words count: 3,312 k

"Finally!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N?"

Maybe a bit too real.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why should I, Y/N?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Was it my hand that was pleasuring you?"

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

"How did it feel?"

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

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

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

"So good."

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

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

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

"Did I kiss you in your fantasy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And you are willing to..."

"I am, my dear."

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

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

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

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

Dream tilted his head a little, scanning your face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You are so beautiful Y/N."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N..."

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

"Y/N, why are you crying?"

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

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

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

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

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

"It is."

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

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

You begrudgingly let your arms fall back.

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

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

You perked up at his words.

"For your next dream..."

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

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

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

"Y-you would?!"

Your earnest reaction made him smile and he nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

"This dream is over."

A/N = thank you for reading! I hope you liked the story. Feel free to leave a comment to tell me what you think of it, feedback is always appreciated.

Also, you're welcome to come over on Ao3 and Wattpad where this story and other my works are published as well, to live kudos, stars and read other people's comments and opinions. [author's name is the same everywhere]

I officially don't take requests but I'm open to suggestions and I might use your ideas for a future story so either leave a comment under one of my stories, dm me or send an anonymous request.

Thank you again and until next time! xx

OMG yes absolutely yes

I feel like morpheous is an absolute dirty talk animal but like, quietly in your ear, like his passions are a secret between him and his partner. Idk just saying

Yes! Definitely I can see him whispering dirty things in your ear as he holds you close because he is essentially touch starved

My fucking God please this is perfect I need more please

Morpheus Alphabet NSFW.-B

So Claiming his Queen part 4 will not be up tonight as I am writing a juicy ending to the chapter, so as a thanks for all your amazing support please find my first submission to Morpheus Alphabet NSFW. If anyone has any requests A-Z let me know!

Warnings- Smut, sexual content 18+

Keep reading

oh my god my heart ached for calliope but i loved this story so much

New Beginnings | Sandman imagine

Summary: After Calliope’s cry for help, Morpheus goes to her rescue and the muse finds out her former lover has moved on.

Pairing: Morpheus x Reader

Request: Yes

When Morpheus heard Calliope’s calling he was quick to attend and free her from her imprisonment. Out of respect and honoring for the love and grief they shared, Morpheus wouldn’t be capable of lying to himself, as Calliope was undoubtedly a huge part of his story and once was the mother of his child, he couldn’t just sit around and do nothing.

He still felt an immense love for her, and it made his blood boil to find out about her confinement in the hands of Richard Madoc, so he made sure that he would get the right punishment for his atrocities, the man didn’t deserve mercy. Men such as him were rats, cowards who had to be taught a lesson.

For the first time in ages Calliope was free and while she was grateful to Oneiros she was also wondering if he still had feelings for her, out of the wrath he depicted when he imparted justice and the immense tension that filled the room when Morpheus was alone with her.

No matter how much time they spent apart, Calliope still knew her former lover like the back of her hand, and they still couldn’t bring up the subject of their son. But knowing how apprehensive the Endless was, she highly doubted he even acknowledged his pain and grief.

Seeing as he almost walked out that door and it would probably take ages for her to see Oneiros again, she dared to speak.

“May I visit you in the Dream Realm sometime…” His dark blue eyes fixated on her, shining with indescribable emotion. “So that we may finally talk about our son?”

Morpheus opened his mouth to speak, finally understanding the closeness of Calliope was a demonstration of her restraint love, a love maybe she wasn’t even aware that was still there…

But before he could say something female voice he knew very well filled his ears and draw his attention along with Calliope’s.

“Bubs?” A thin woman was outside, just a few feet away from where Morpheus was standing, she was radiant and beautiful, looking at the eternal man with love, when looking carefully at his expression Calliope could see how Morpheus’ face lighted up at the side of you, his whole face changed.

The muse’s heart shattered quietly, the bit of hope she had in Oneiros still loving her died right there. Suddenly, two little kids not older than three years old came out from under your skirt, the toddlers ran in Morpheus direction and he welcomed them with open arms.

You walked over to Morpheus and he was quick to grab you by the waist and kiss you softly. You grabbed your arms around his neck, smiling.

“I’m sorry, love. They insisted”

“It was a very nice surprise” Dream said, picking his daughter up. While your son had his eyes fixated on Calliope who’s eyes watered at the sight of the raven haired boy, he was the living image of Oneiros and her heart ached as she was reminded of the son she lost centuries ago.

For the first time since you arrived you looked at Calliope and she looked back at you, smiling lightly with nostalgia.

“I’m sorry, I’m Y/N. Queen and wife to Morpheus” you reached out your hand to her, she shook it and was reminded of the time she was his as well.

“Calliope” she replied, you nodded slightly, something in your eyes changed, it was some sort of acknowledgment. Of course you knew who she was.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you”

“Likewise” you turned to Morpheus.

“We should leave now, darling it’s getting late” your children whined, protesting.

“But we want to see the Waking World, mama!” the older twin spoke, pouting and batting his long eyelashes at you.

“We’ll have plenty of time to see it, Acanthus” Morpheus told his son, kneeling before him and pinching his nose lightly, making the boy giggle.

“You promise, papa?” Now his daughter spoke, he nodded.

“I promise, Roseann. Now please go back with your mother to the Dreaming. I’ll join you shortly” both of his children complied his command and said goodbye to their father and Calliope before vanishing with you to the Dream realm.

Morpheus looked at Calliope once again, the whole atmosphere changed when getting a glimpse of his new life. The muse now understood that was the tension she felt earlier, the nervousness from a kept secret and not an unexpressed love as she believed at first.

“A rose and a thorn…” Calliope murmured, making Morpheus smile weakly, imagining how she must felt at this specific time.

“One cannot exist without the other, and being twins… it seemed fitting. Y/N suggested it, actually” the muse giggled.

“Of course” there was a minute of silence after that. “You have a beautiful family, Oneiros. I’m happy for you” he smiled, Morpheus was truly happy now, after centuries of grief and pain and he wished the same for his former lover. But all he could say was two simple words.

“Goodbye, Calliope”

“I will never forget this. Fare you well”

Then, Morpheus disappeared in a swirl of sand, leaving Calliope standing all by herself under the moonlight, but being left with another important thing…

Freedom.

I love it

Perseverance | Sandman Imagine.

Summary: As an eternal being, love didn’t seem to be Dream’s friend, as he lost you, his one true love, but something told him you would eventually come back to him.

Pairing: Morpheus x Reader

Requested: Yes

It had always been a lonely existence as an Endless, Morpheus was mostly used to it and surrendered to the reality of his role. Love didn’t seem to fit in his world, that was until you came along.

You weren’t exactly human but you weren’t inmortal either… Morpheus fell in love with you centuries ago, and even when you perished, you would eventually reincarnate and come back to your loved one.

You had all types of appearances, bodies, but Morpheus would recognize you every single time, and every single time you had the same name.

Y/N.

The Endless tried to find an explanation to your existence but there was nothing, or at least nothing in concrete, the only thing he could find that was a very reduced answer to his constant question was that you had some sort of soul contract to the Lord of Dreams.

But this particular soul contract didn’t have an estimated time as to when will you be able to reincarnate and for what you told him, you had no control over it.

The reincarnation could take thirty or fifty years for all you knew, it could even extend to centuries and there was no true way of knowing when you came back, it was your duty to find him.

No matter how long you took, you would always make the most of your time together, because you didn’t know when you would see each other again, but every time you left at least, the King of Dreams had a new wave of memories to remember you.

You recently had died in 1755 at the Lisbon earthquake, he felt devastated but he was hopeful, because you would find him, just like every other time. So he waited.

But one day he was deprived from his freedom at the hands of an amateur occultist and he felt completely helpless.

It would be impossible for you to find your way to him now. He wanted to scream, curse, kick, anything that would ease his rage, but he remained silent.

Morpheus didn’t speak a word, even through the anger, frustration, he just waited for some opportunity to get out of that humid hell hole.

He was completely alone, cold. Until his ears buzzed as he heard a familiar voice… but it couldn’t be, could it?

Dream tried to listen with much more intent this time. He could hear footsteps fading in the distance and then it took a few seconds to hear the sound of someone coming down the stairs.

A chill ran down his spine.

You were there, somehow you were there. His beautiful Y/N, you ran to him, completely shocked and appalled by the sight of Morpheus completely bare sitting in some kind of prison bubble, he stared right into your eyes, forgetting about his imprisonment for a single minute.

For a single minute, the world ceased to exist. There was only you.

“What have they done to you?” You asked him, completely distressed. He put his hands at the sides of yours, and even when he could only feel the cold glass, he imagined for a second he was touching your hands.

“Y/N? How did you find me here?” It was the first words he spoke in God knows how many years, so his voice sounded raspier than usual. You smiled.

“I heard some whispers and I had to come close to Roderick Burgess to finally sneak in” you explained a little too simply.

Morpheus looked at you reluctantly, making you roll your eyes.

“We didn’t do anything Morpheus, maybe just a little kiss but that was it” you said, Morpheus arched a brow.

“A kiss?”

“Seriously, Morpheus? Don’t you think we have bigger problems than where were my lips?” He looked away, but he still didn’t feel comfortable with you kissing Roderick Burgess.

“I have to go, but I promise I’ll find a way to get you out of here” you said to him, before quickly leaving the place, the last thing you wanted was for Roderick to find you anywhere near his dungeon.

It had been ten years of his imprisonment and he trusted you to get him out of here, if there was anyone stubborn enough and intelligent enough to outsmart Burgess it could be you.

When you came back you were joined by Jessamy, his loyal raven. You had brought a wrench to break the glass, with your strength and repetitive impacts as well as Jessamy’s effort the polymer was starting to crack, the cracks were growing stronger and Morpheus’ eyes glowed with hope, you two shared a look.

He was going to get out of here.

But then, two loud bangs echoed through the room, the first full on impacting Jessamy, as her blood was spluttered on the cristal, you step aside from Morpheus, and he caught a glimpse of the wound you were putting pressure on, your hand was covered in blood, a few drops falling to your feet.

When you looked at him teary eyed, his heart shattered. You collapsed to the floor and Morpheus couldn’t keep his eyes off your lifeless body.

Alex Burgess was standing at the end of the stairs, his father asked him to get rid of the bodies as Morpheus sat back, feeling like his whole world crumbled before him as his loyal companion Jessamy and the love of his life Y/N died at the hands of a coward and scrawny young boy like Alex.

He couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down his eyes as they took you and Jessamy away… this wasn’t supposed to happen, you came back but this time he didn’t have a lifetime of memories to remember you by, you were brutally taken away from his side, and Jessamy as well.

With all your efforts he knew he could at least try and break free, but he didn’t. Morpheus sat in the cold of his cracked prison cell plotting his vengeance.

A century passed until he was able to punish Alex Burgess and now being regained his power he still felt a void within his soul, because nothing he did would bring you back. Only time could do that.

Present day, he sat on a park bench feeding the birds, replaying in his head your atrocious murder, he hated that was the last memory of you, how your eyes showed the fear and pain of dying too soon.

“Is the seat taken?” That voice he knew so well filled his ears, when looking up you stood before him, with a beautiful smile and the rays of the sun shining down on you.

“Y/N?” He asked, even when he could recognize you, it was unbelievable, you laughed and hugged him, he slowly pulled you in, taking in your scent, the texture of your skin, your eyes…

You sat beside him, holding his hand, he caressed your face, repeating to himself over and over that you were truly here with him.

“I’m sorry my love, I’m so sorry” he apologized, your eyes soften in sympathy with his affliction.

“No, Morpheus listen to me. The only thing I am sorry for is that I left you to deal with grief and anger, but I would do it all over again if I had to” you spoke sincerely.

“But you were murdered trying to save me and I saw how they dragged you like you were nothing. And Jessamy” he explained, bubbling with anger once again. You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you through his tears.

“I would take a bullet any day, for you. Jessamy loved you so much she risked her own life to try and set you free. Don’t weight yourself down with guilt”

You were so good to him and sometimes he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

Nevertheless, he did the one thing he couldn’t do all those years ago when he was trapped by Roderick Burgess, he kissed you. With so much intent, love and passion, the love of a man that had been waiting for you for almost three hundred years now, one lifetime was stolen away from you and Morpheus was determined to make up for the lost time.

He also promised that day, to find a way to free you from the ties of reincarnation, so you could finally be together for eternity and you could be free from the pain of waiting ages to be together for a limited amount of time.

for the love of God... this story left me wanting Tom mr to make love being morpheus ok 👌 I loved this story too much... you should read it

Like silk (Morpheus x Reader)

Pairing: Morpheus x fem!reader

Summary: In the afterglow of your lovemaking, you marvel at your immortal lover’s softness, inside and out.

Warnings: nudity, not full-on smut but heavily mentioned throughout and initiated at the end (minors DNI!!!), the author is soft af for Dream’s ethereal features and it shows

Word count: ~1.1K

A/n: Just some fluff inspired by Calliope’s line in the comics quoted below. Hope you enjoy!

***

“He was so gentle, and his skin felt like white silk against my skin.” - Calliope, The Sandman #71

***

Soft.

Everything is so, so soft. The warm breeze sneaking through the open palace window, the thin sheet lovingly draped over your bare lower half but a few moments ago, the mattress you’re resting on, the pillow beneath your head. And the softest of all - your lover’s skin, pressed against yours as you lie in his arms.

You could tell at first glance that his body would no doubt feel as ethereal as he looked. But you hadn’t imagined just how smooth his skin could possibly be, how much it would feel like the finest silk as it glided over yours with each thrust.

In truth, you hadn’t anticipated how gentle he could be, either. You’d expected him to make love as dominantly as he behaved, if not as coldly. Undoubtedly seeking consent and aiming for your pleasure, but coaxing it from your body by commanding you towards it with his, claiming it without falter.

Instead, you’d found yourself showered in tender caresses and feather-light kisses, the tips of his fingers almost hesitant as they meticulously learned where and how to touch so you would tremble in delight. And though you relished the steel firmness of his chest and abdomen pressed flush against your softest parts as he moved inside you, he’d done so with the greatest care, taking notice of your every little reaction and adjusting accordingly. By the end, you’d been lost in a silky cloud of pleasure floating across the night sky, illuminated only by the stars in your lover’s eyes.

You have no doubt he could be rough in bed as well, and the thought isn’t unappealing in the slightest. But for now, you simply lie there, satiated and content with the length of your body half-covering his, and your fingers tracing idle lines over his heart. You marvel at how smoothly your fingertips glide along his alabaster skin as they follow the line between his well-defined pectoral muscles, then make a slow, winding trail over the right one.

Dream lies back with his eyes closed, though he never sleeps. He’s simply relishing your touch, his arm wrapped around you as he lightly brushes his own fingers over your shoulder.

“You’re so soft,” you mouth into his skin, barely a murmur. He gives a low, questioning hum. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you’ve woken him from a deep slumber. You almost feel bad even so, having interrupted his rare moment of peace with such a random thought.

“I said, you’re very soft,” you repeat a bit sheepishly. “Your skin. It feels like silk.”

He’s silent for a moment. “Does that please you, my love?”

If his skin is white silk, his voice is black velvet. It rumbles deeply within his chest, where your cheek is resting.

You sigh at the feeling, but frown slightly as your hand pauses in its movement. “Why would it not?”

“A matter of taste, I suppose,” he says in casual manner. “I can alter any aspect of my appearance if you like. You need only ask.”

He says it like it’s nothing to him, and it is. But you find yourself almost... disturbed at the notion.

You lift yourself up so you’re sitting sideways, leaning on one hand while the other rests on his stomach. He reaches for it to play with your fingers now that you have removed yourself from his embrace. You look down at your touching hands, mesmerized by how well your fingers fit with his as he guides them into a languid dance of small, tender brushes against one another. Your eyes then drift to the contours of his beautifully chiseled abs, then travel across his strong chest, rising and falling with each breath, and finally linger on his face. The impossibly soft rosy lips whose touch you can still feel on every inch of your skin, the elegant line of his nose, the sharp jawline your fingertips had loved to trace, the black, unruly hair you had tugged on at the height of your pleasure, coaxing a low groan from your lover. And, last but not least, his eyes - the universe itself contained in two never-ending pools of starlight, spilling into the ocean of his irises.

You love him for what he is. His wondrous mind, his unwavering commitment to his given role despite its hardships, his depth of feeling, hard though as he strives to contain and conceal it. But you can’t deny that his physical form alone is the most ethereal, bewitching sight that has ever blessed your eyes.

“You are perfect, Morpheus,” you breathe out, holding back a shudder. To lose yourself like this in the image of him lying bare beside you is almost too much.

The lightest crease appears between his brows. His gaze stays locked on you as he sits up, bringing his face inches away from yours. He lowers his eyes to your body, studying you as you did him. His knuckles trace a gentle line over your skin, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake - from your folded knee, along your thigh and over your hip, up your stomach, then pausing a moment to follow the soft curve of your breast. It takes but the lightest touch of his thumb on your nipple to have it grow into a stiff little peak, making you gasp and shudder as you try to keep still under his observing gaze.

His fingers continue their path over your fluttering heart, then up the sensitive skin of your neck, until he finally cups your cheek and looks you in the eye once more. You think he might say something, but he only parts his lips so he can close them over yours.

It makes sense. He never quite knows how to receive your kind words. But he is always oh-so-willing to be kind to you.

His lips taste of stardust and rainfall and home. Of everything he is and everything you dream of, because he is your dreams. And you sink into him as easily as you drift to sleep. Gently guided by his hands, you shift onto his lap, your thighs on each side of his. The hard length of him nudges at your lower belly, seeking permission.

“I want you again,” you mewl softly into his mouth, eagerly granting it.

He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes as he takes your wrist in his hand, and lowers it into the heated space between your bodies. He takes his time savouring the feeling as he wraps his fingers over yours around his length.

“I am yours,” he declares as if it’s the simplest, more natural thing in the world. You guide the tip of him to your entrance, sighing as it kisses your wet folds.

“And I am yours,” you vow in return.

Slowly, you sink down onto him, and abandon yourself once more to his silken embrace.

***

A/n: Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are very appreciated🤗

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