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nikathingz · 2 years

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Witch's Dreams

Morpheus x Immortal!Witch!Reader

I couldn't wait to make a part 2! i hope you enjoy it! and don't forget to like and follow for more!

Part 1 here

Masterlist

( These people wanted to be tagged : @mona-has-friends @jesllianaquilesrolon @true-queen-of-mischief @deniixlovezelda @aurorarevenclaw1927 @thecrazytealady @22carolina08 )

Word Count: 1585

You took your peaceful dreams as a sign that Dream wasn’t mad at you for being hired to seal him in a basement for as long as the foundation of the house stood. While out and about doing work, you started to notice a raven just about every time you left your house. Every time you did you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, it's not like you didn’t like ravens, you believed they brought good fortune. Yet, whenever you saw them recently you couldn’t help the way your gut twisted in nervousness when you noticed them perched around your apartment.

It was a few months after your debacle at the Burgess manor when you had sleeping trouble. You had awoken early that morning to start a long busy day of work and were up later than usual. But when you finally did try to enter the land of dreams, you could not.

You’d laid in bed in silence and darkness for about an hour and a half before you got up and decided to make a cup of tea, in hopes it would help you sleep. But even as you sat on your couch sipping at the warm drink, your eyelids did not droop, and your muscles did not tingle. You had felt more awake than ever actually.

After staring at the wall for several long and boring moments you looked out the window where rain had started to patter outside. Your body went ridged as a pair of yellow glowering eyes stared back at you from the fire escape. As you shifted off the couch and toward the window. The cat had stood and started trotting out of view of the window, toward where the fire escape reached your bedroom.

You rushed through your tiny apartment and crossed the threshold of your dark room, to be met with a pair of sparkling eyes in the blackness, except instead of being on the floor, at the head level of a cat. They stood taller than you, not by much, but certainly more than a feline.

Your breath hitched as thunder boomed through the city, your first instinct was to grab something to defend yourself with, but you stood frozen as the eyes approached you. You gawked as he stepped from the shadows into the beam of light coming in from your now cracked open window. It was him, Dream of the Endless.

Excitement and nerves bubbled in your throat, what did he want? Why was he here? Your eyes examined his form, he wore a black T-shirt and jeans, with the same colored pair of boots and had his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of a trench coat, also black. His hair was in the same disarray as when he was trapped, you figured it was the way he liked it.

His face was hard, brows furrowed and lips pursed like he had been sucking on a lemon. Yet a sparkle in his eyes carried curiosity.

“W-what do you want?” your voice was weary as you shrunk into yourself, you watched as his features softened and he gave you a smile of gratitude.

“Fear not mage, I have no resentment toward you” His voice was different than you had expected it to be. The type of voice that would make millions in the audiobook department, one that soothed the knots in your shoulders and made your head fuzzy with fatigue. “How could I?” He stepped closer to you, so close that if he stepped to you again he would be chest to chest with you. He lifted his hand out of his pocket but hesitated and dropped it to his side.

“Then why have you come?” You asked and shifted on the balls of your feet, looking up at him with childish awe. He was breathtaking like this, his glassy skin shone in the filtered moonlight, and you could pick up on every slight micro expression on his face.

The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly as his eyelids fell shut and he dropped gracefully to kneel before you. Morpheus was a prideful being, but being imprisoned for over a century was truly humbling to him, he owed you eternally for what you did for him.

You could have left him there, worse, bound him there for creator knows how long. When he heard Alex’s demands, he damn near expected you too. And yet, you hadn’t hesitated to come to his aid once the house fell asleep, and you hadn’t asked anything in return.

You were truly remarkable, it had taken all of his willpower to not come and see you immediately after he had recovered his tools to properly thank you. Matthew was his next best option, and eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore, he had to see you in the waking world and pay his respects.

Now standing here before you in your moonlit bedroom, he was like a worshipper to the ancient gods.

Your face flushed as you watched him kneel before you and hang his head like a child caught in the cookie jar. “I- what are you d-doing?” your heart pounded in your ears as the godlike being in your home looked up at you with a face filled with gratitude.

“Thanking the witch who freed me from my prison, as I should have many months ago,” he said regretfully, and you watched as his lips pursed in shame. This caused you to hesitantly grip his shoulders and try and get him to stand with you again, but he stayed firm on the floor.

“No, lord Dream please don’t, you didn’t-” you said as you tugged on his coat, but he placed a chilly hand on his shoulder, over yours, and shook his head slightly.

“Morpheus, my name is Morpheus, I will not have you address me as superior when I owe you an eternities debt” He spoke firmly, but not in a manner to upset you.

“Okay okay! But please Morpheus stand up, you don’t owe me anything really” You said and watched as he looked up at you with novelty, but slowly rose to stand within a mere foot from you.

“You misunderstand mage, I do owe you-” He tried to reason but you didn’t let him, by gripping his sleeve and smiling up at him.

“No Morpheus you don’t, the lovely dreams the past few months have been payment enough, I was simply doing what any right minded person would do. There’s no need for any ‘eternal debt’ or whatever, just knowing you’re okay, and that humanity doesn’t have to suffer anymore sleepy sickness is enough for me” You spoke softly and watched as he gently gripped the wrist that had a hold on his sleeve, turning it over carefully in his calloused hands.

Morpheus examined every inch of your face, he wondered what kind of deal with the fates he made long ago that might have brought you through his path, but he didn’t care.

You infatuated him, you weren’t like humans, you didn’t use your powers as a witch against people, you didn’t exploit your immortality, and you freed an Endless being, simply out of the kindness of your heart.

“Even centuries of sweet dreams could not convey my gratitude to you” His voice was calm and peaceful, pulling a yawn from your throat, which caused Morpheus’s jaw to clench momentarily.

He felt a bit guilty for being the cause of your inability to sleep tonight, he had intended to speak with you much earlier in the evening, but he was caught up watching as you did mundane tasks around your house, and the small projects you’d put off, he just lost track of time.

He cleared his throat and released your hand, trying to compose himself, your eyes closed as you gave him a genuine smile. “As I said, you don’t need to give me anything because I don’t want anything” you tried to assure him, but his face was set in a state of immense concentration.

He tried to think of what Lucienne might advise him to do, he understood that he’s not very good at expressing himself the way he intends to. He simply looked over your face watching the tiredness overtake your features.

“How about this hm? I go to bed, and we can talk more tomorrow yeah?” You said drowsily and swayed in your spot, feeling the sounds of pattering rain and the presence of Morpheus finally lull your exhausted mind towards sleep.

This prompted Morpheus to place his steady hands onto your biceps and gently tug you toward your messy bed. He gently laid your finally tired form into the comforts of your bedding and watched as you snuggled into your plush pillow.

He hovered by your nightstand as you adjusted and got comfortable, before looking up at him and smiling softly “goodnight Morpheus” you mumbled as your eyes fell closed.

A soft smile graced his features as he stared at your stilled form. “Goodnight mage…” he uttered quietly and pulled a soft sheet over you.

“It’s Y/n…” you muttered so quietly that he almost didn’t hear, but his smile widened in acknowledgment. As he let out a breath of a laugh.

“Goodnight then… Y/n” he said and left you to your dreams, assuring that they were especially wonderful as you snoozed away that night, it’s safe to say he was properly infatuated with you.

•••

Part three?

#the dreaming #the dream king #dream of the endless #the sandman fanfic #morpheus #morpheus x reader #prideful morpheus #soft morpheus #greatful morpheus #immortal!reader #witch!reader #self indulgence at its finest

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sic-vita · 2 years

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The Sandman | moments of Morpheus being human

#the sandman #sandman #tom sturridge #morpheus #dream of the endless #sue's things #sicvita:sandman #i love the moments he's just human #admitting he is wrong #swallowing his pride #confessing that he's just trying #not a cold untouchable Endless being #but also fallible just like us humans

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magnusbae · 1 year

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So you know the Chinese saying that once you’ve saved a person’s life, you’re responsible for it forever? Dreamling Rescue fic where after hob saves Dream, Dream keeps showing up expecting Hob to take care of him and be responsible for him in a variety of situations and times. Bonus points: Dream explains exactly nothing to Hob. Those are the old laws, Hob should have been aware of what he was doing when he decided to arrive and save him and that’s that.

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the-cloudy-dreamer · 11 months

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For every queer person in this fandom but specially for all my people in @dreamlingnation the new-inn will always welcome us with warm open arms and so does Hob Gadling!

Happy Pride Month 🌈✨

#the sandman #sandman fanart #sandman netflix #hob gadling #dream of the endless #lord morpheus #dream x hob #dreamling #happy pride 🌈#cloudy illustrates

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zorawitch · 25 days

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the problem with sandman regency AUs is that people think Dream is Mr Darcy. He is not Mr Darcy. That man

a) has a huge family

b) develops grudges at the drop of a hat

and c) has never looked into his feelings in his life.

that man is Elizabeth Bennet.

#pride and prejudice #to clarify if anyone says HOB of all people is Mr Darcy fuck no he isnt #the sandman #the sandman comics #the sandman tv #dream of the endless #morpheus #morphienne #a.t. shrieking

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voukkake · 8 months

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Dreamling Pride and Prejudice AU when???

#ferdinand kingsley #dreamling #the sandman #tom sturridge #dream x hob #morpheus x hob #neil gaiman #hob x dream #hob x morpheus #alternative universe #pride and prejudice

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virgo-dream · 11 months

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One of Their Own 🏳️‍🌈✨

dreamling / queer joy / fluff / first kiss / 3,6k words

summary: Hob Gadling invites Dream to a meeting of the uni's queer clubs at the New Inn. Dream learns more about his own gender identity, and that he's very much in love with his best friend.

author’s note: this fic, this pairing and this fandom all mean the world to me, so I thought it was fitting to bring it back for pride month!

I’m incredibly thankful for finding Sandman when I did. Since joining this fandom, I’ve made wonderful friends and became part of a community of bright, kind, loving and loyal queer people that I would not trade for anything. I’ve learned more about my community and about myself, and I wave my ace/agender flag proudly now. This fic was written in a moment in my life where I felt hopeless and alone. Now, things couldn’t be more different. Happy pride sandfam! 🏳️‍🌈✨

read here or on ao3

Dream doesn’t get it at first. He never really did get it, but only attributed it to the need humanity had for labels, for packing things into boxes and saying this goes here and that goes there. Sometimes, it leads to this goes to heaven and you go to hell. It seemed to be a very common one, too. He was beyond that; his name said it all, Dream was endless. Not he nor she, not man nor creature, he was all there was to be and the nothingness beyond it. Gender and sexuality need not apply.

Still, it meant so much to Hob, that he’d have dreams about it. Nightmares too, for nights on end, and even if Dream begged Hob to allow him to take them away, Hob always declined, always braving through them. “If you take them, I’ll forget how much it all means. I’ll forget why I’m still fighting.”

They sat at the New Inn one afternoon, while Hob graded papers and Dream had a cup of chamomile tea, but his eyes couldn’t help but focus on a shiny pin on Hob’s jumper shaped like a flag, the shades of pink, purple and blue a spot of proud colour in Hob’s otherwise earthy colour palette.

“It’s the bisexual pride flag.”

“Hm?” Dream’s eyes darted up to meet Hob’s, tilting his head slightly. He wasn’t sure if he should feel bad for being caught, because he wasn’t sure what he was looking at in the first place.

“The pin. I wear it for my students, but also for myself. The kids feel safer I guess, knowing they have at least one of their own in the faculty. Can’t say it doesn’t make me feel good too.”

Hob has a particular tone to his voice that makes Dream’s heart sing in tune to its melody. It’s a fuller sense of self, maybe more than Dream ever had in regards to his own identity. “…one of their own?”

“Oh, I– Sorry, those are pretty recent.” Hob straightened himself up (ha) on the chair, his lecturing posture taking over. Dream liked when he did that. He liked to hear Hob speak of things he had deep knowledge of and passion for. “This one was created in 1988 by a queer activist called Michael Page. Had the pleasure of being there when it was first unveiled, but clearly it took a long time until I was able to wear something like this out in public and not be decked by some bloody homophobe.”

It was starting to sink in.

“…I’m afraid I was not present for these developments.” Dream saw the look on Hob’s face, like he was ready to apologise. He raised a hand to stop him, waving his concern away. “As far as I can remember, queer was not a form of self identification, but only a way to shun out those outside the established norm.”

“Ah, yes. We reclaimed it, though. Or are reclaiming it. The 80s were crazy. All of them were, for me.” Hob smiled at Dream, at their shared secret and at their years of now reestablished friendship.

“I think you’re lonely.”

Could it have been….? Could he have meant…?

“What does it mean for you, then?” Dream asks in a way he hopes sounds inconspicuous, pointing at the pin. He was hesitant to ask, afraid to be getting it all wrong.

“For me? It means I love whoever I love. Man, woman, either or neither.”

The pride coming from Hob’s words filled Dream with hope, something he had not felt in a long, long time. The look in his face then shifted onto something else, something he didn’t quite understand. “…what about you? That is, if you’re okay with talking about that. I don’t want to overstep. Last thing I want is for you to walk out–”

“I won’t, Hob.” Dream knew Hob had reason for feeling that way. “I don’t believe the terminology you have could define my experience. I have laid with mortals and gods alike, and have worn many faces and names. It is beyond human comprehension.”

Hob seems to take a moment to think about what he’d just heard. Dream feels like he might have thrown too much at his human friend. “…I think I get it. But, and tell me to bugger off I’m wrong, do you prefer to be a particular way? To be with a particular sort of being?”

Dream. Didn’t have an answer.

He never thought of what he preferred. He’d never felt in need of any sort of outside validation, but. That was a lie. He needed it. He just never cared to look for it.

Hob’s smile was what broke him out of the spell of his own self doubt. “It’s okay if you don’t have an answer. It takes people a long time to get it, it took me nearly 600 years! Ah! You know what? I’ve got an idea–” He reached inside his brown messenger bag, pulling out a colourful piece of paper, handing it over to Dream. A pamphlet for a meeting. “We’re having a meeting for the uni’s LGBT clubs here at the Inn. I want this to be a safe space for the kids, and to get them to connect with other folks in the community, share their experiences. It’s tomorrow, and I’d love it if you could make it. I’m sure they would too.”

Dream took the pamphlet in hands, looking at the bright colours and bold fonts, taking in every bit of information Hob was giving him and trying to fill in the gaps of the questions he wouldn’t dare ask. After a moment, he looked up at Hob, allowing himself a small smile. “I shall be in attendance, then.”

—————

Dream stood outside the New Inn, hands tucked safely inside the pockets of his coat jacket. He watched as groups of young adults arrived, greeting each other cheerfully. The hair colours and outfits reminded him of his sister, Delirium, but they all seemed to be more in line with her previous self; delighted to be there, happy to meet their friends. A flag danced in the light summer breeze on a pole next to the window, the stripes of colours brightening up the already lively scene. A rainbow, Hob had told him the day before, was the most recognizable symbol of the queer community. It now was accompanied by stripes of light pink and blue, white, black and brown. Dream enjoyed good symbolism, and he could feel the meaning of those colours to all who were present from their daydreams alone.

He, however, still felt like an outsider. Like he wasn't really meant to be there, save for Hob's generous invite. Dream was not defined by the same standards humanity aligned itself with; in fact, he wasn't defined by anything at all. He was not an individual, but the safe arms in which those dreamers rested every night, the common thread in their hopes, in their restful slumber. It would be silly to think that he'd need to identify as one thing or another, really. He was there for Hob . Because Hob invited him. Because he wanted to know more about the everyday life of his dearest friend. Because he wanted to hear him talk, see him inspire others with his tales, wanted to hear the sound of his voice, the gentle way in which he made people feel welcome, cared for, loved, he wanted–

Dream thought it best to wait it out, at least until most people had already arrived, until he had an idea of just how many young, hopeful minds would be in the vicinity. After escaping the Burgess Manor, Dream was faced with a considerable raise in the amount of dreamers under his care. He would not admit it to anyone but himself, but at times, it became too much even for him to bear. The idea of willingly walking into a space with so many people was daunting, to say the least. So he waited, watched as the New Inn became packed with dreamers, feeling his palms dampen inside the pockets of his coat.

Taking the first step towards the door was difficult. Pushing it open was even harder. Dream stepped in, careful not to bump into anyone or to even get too close. The sound of the little bell that was supposed to announce his arrival had no effect, as it was overtaken by the sound of chatter inside the Inn. It was better that way, Dream thought. Not having Hob rush to greet him. That way he could take a moment to adjust to his surroundings, maybe even blend in, become invisible. In hindsight, his usual choice of attire did anything but blend in there. He was a dark little cloud in a sky full of bright colours, like a multi-coloured sunset on a tropical beach. And of course, every sunset had its monarch, shining brightly, commanding the attention. That, of course, was Hob.

"Hello there, kids! Glad to see most of you could make it!" The cheerful, gentle register of Hob's voice filled the room, filtered by the small but potent speaker he'd rented just for the occasion. Dream could hear his voice clearly, and it helped him tune out everything else that wasn't his beloved friend. "This is the first of hopefully many meetings of our beloved Queer Clubs here at my beloved New Inn. I want you all to know this is a safe space for you all no matter what part of the gender and sexuality spectrums you fall on. The only things I won't accept here are discrimination of any kind, and anyone that thinks Lawrence Cheney shouldn't have won season 2 of Drag Race UK. Are we clear on that one?"

Laughter filled the room, and Dream couldn't help but allow his lips a small smile. Hob truly was a marvel. How anyone could shine so brightly was beyond even the dream lord's knowledge, but he was glad to be able to bask in that glow from time to time. He wished he could do it more often.

Hob was saying other things, Dream thought. Instructions on seating arrangements, subjects to be discussed, discounts on food and drinks. All Dream could do was watch as Hob did more than just make everyone feel welcome, but inspired them with hope and joy, a gentle breeze of acceptance, the embrace of a parent, the empathy of an equal. There was much to work with here, much to inspire new dreams. Dreams of comfort and love, of community and pride.

"Dream? You in there, love?"

Hob's voice broke the spell he himself had cast over Dream, who could now see his friend's palm waving in front of his eyes. He'd become lost in thought, it seemed. Dream's nose scrunched up at the interruption, looking at Hob with his usual look of curiosity. There was still much he needed to catch up on when it came to non verbal communication. "Aye. I'm here. Have I not fully manifested my presence?"

Hob chuckled, and his eyes wrinkled at the corners. "Oh, yes. Physically, at least." Dream's brows furrowed in worry, and he was glad Hob was quick enough to notice when something had gone over his head. "Just a joke– hey, I'm glad you could make it. The kids will love meeting you."

"Meeting me? There are far too many people here for you to make introductions. Besides, I know them all, and they all know me. They just do not remember it during waking hours."

This felt like a plausible enough explanation to keep Hob from actually introducing him to everyone in attendance. But Hob was far too optimistic to be dissuaded so easily. "I'm not talking about introducing them to Morpheus. I'd like them to meet my friend, Dream."

"I do not see the difference." He shouldn't say why he couldn't bear the idea of being introduced to so many people. Shouldn't burden Hob with his problems, that wouldn't exist had he just not been captured in the first place. Dream had been good at hiding his discomfort so far, and he'd continue to do so.

…well, maybe he was not so good at it. Not when Hob's eyes so clearly conveyed the worry that had just settled in his heart. It was difficult to deny Hob the truth when his warm, calloused hands took Dream's into his own so carefully, squeezing gently, as if saying you can trust me. I've got you. "It's okay if you'd rather not. I know it can be overwhelming sometimes."

"...thank you." Dream replied with a murmur. Hob gifted him with a smile. It seemed a lot could be said with just the eyes.

————

Even if Dream didn't intend on actually joining in on the conversations being held, he was glad to follow Hob along and listen to the discussions. It was amazing seeing just how bright the kids really were: they spoke of justice and equality, of inclusivity, of respect and love, of family and religion and sex and responsibility. It was a wider range of topics than he'd expected, an awareness of self he didn't think humans would ever possess, and now, he was glad to be proven wrong. He listened to their shared experiences, to the kindness in their eyes as they lifted each other up, the melody of their laughter and the bravery in their voices as they spoke of injustices they'd lived. It was fascinating, really.

What Dream was truly surprised to find was that people had, after all, an understanding of self that went beyond just physical. Hob brought him closer to a group of kids who were in a long discussion on gender identity. Some of them felt comfortable with the gender they'd been "assigned with at birth", others did not feel any affinity for it. Some of them had changed their bodies to fit with how they felt on the inside, and Dream couldn't help but feel enormous empathy for them, for the way they had to fight to exist in a body that didn't feel like a trap. It was something Dream always took for granted, until he himself felt the horror of having no agency over himself. The pain they went through to guarantee they'd have the right to live authentically. Dream's body had never been limited to an exclusive physical manifestation; he was as he felt like. Fluid , as one of the bright colour haired people had pointed out while explaining their own experience. They reminded Dream of his own sibling, Desire. Someone else brought up how they didn't particularly feel like they had a gender, and that the language surrounding it didn't particularly bother them. Agender, the girl said proudly. Dream wondered if there was any right or wrong way to declare oneself fluid or agender. Then he realised the tightness in his chest when the thought occurred to him.

"Are you alright?" Once again, Hob's voice brought him back to the Waking. Dream could now feel Hob's hand on his own again, but he wasn't sure what exactly had warranted it.

"Your hands were shaking."

Once again, Dream's physical form betrayed him. It was also clear how the conversation surrounding them had gone quiet, and more eyes than he would have liked had landed on their linked hands. He didn't like being watched. Like that.

"Oh, Mr. G, is this your boyfriend?" one of them asked, teasingly. "Would have never guessed you had a thing for goths!"

"Marissa, stop!" someone else said, poking the girl on the shoulder apprehensively. The next thing they said was soft as a whisper. "They are clearly not feeling well."

They.

Dream had never considered himself as they. But this person, whoever they were, preferred "not to assume" his gender. And the empathy displayed for his discomfort was something he wasn't expecting either. Hob seemed to be about to say something, but Dream was quicker.

"There is no need to worry for my well-being, but I thank you for your kindness." Dream allowed himself to smile once again. These children were going places, he knew it. "You may address me as he , if necessary. I would not oppose her or them either." It felt liberating to say it, and Dream didn't really know why. He did know, however, that he suddenly felt brave. "I am not Professor Gadlen's boyfriend , but I am honoured to call him my dearest, most cherished friend."

Dream looked at Hob, who seemed to be awestruck by his words. It was amusing to see him like that, and it lit something else inside him. This meeting was making Dream experience a range of feelings he'd forgotten about. He showed Hob a smile, and Hob smiled back at him, warm and gentle as ever. Their hands were still linked together. Dream had no intention of letting go. "Ah, yes. This little prick here is indeed my dearest, oldest friend. I did want them to meet you guys. I'm glad I was right about it."

When Hob said it, it made Dream's heart sing.

"...so you're fuckbuddies?"

" Marissa! "

————

After a few hours and many, many rounds of different conversations, Hob gathered the group once again, thanking them for coming and congratulating everyone on the success of their first meeting. Dream couldn't help but notice how Hob seemed unable to stop smiling. He could feel the pride and relief radiating off of his tanned skin and kind eyes. Dream wished he could have it all directed at himself, that gentleness.

Hob's boyfriend. Now that would be something.

Dream sat on the booth table behind the bar where he and Hob usually held their meetings and waited for everyone to leave. He wanted some time alone with Hob, even if just to hear what his beloved friend had to say about what he thought of the meeting, just to hear Hob's voice, the only music suited for Dream's ears.

He also had so many new feelings inside himself to explore. Those he could tend to later.

"Hey there, handsome stranger." Hob said as he sat across from Dream on the table, taking Dream's hand in his as if it was just the way they always did things. Maybe it could be. It wouldn't hurt (too much) to hope, would it? "Come here often?"

"Only when I'm in search of an epiphany." Dream couldn't bother to hide the fondness in his own voice, nor the relief he felt to have Hob's hand cradling his own again. "I am impressed, Professor Gadlen. You have gathered a group of exceptionally bright minds. It gives me hope for a better future for humanity."

"Wow Dream, that is… that is really high praise, especially coming from you." Hob seemed flushed, and Dream wondered what else he could do to cause that reaction, to see Hob shy and pretty like that again and again. "I learned a long time ago that I have to build the future I want to live in. But in all honesty… I'm more interested in the present right now."

"Oh, is that so?" Hob's optimism was infectious, it seemed. Dream too could only focus on the present moment. "I am glad to be able to share it with you."

There was a short silence shared between them after that. It was as if neither of them were ready to say whatever it was they clearly needed. Dream tried to take comfort in the feeling of Hob's hand in his, rubbing the back of Hob's hand with his thumb.

His mistake was looking up to meet Hob's eyes.

"There is much I have learned today." Dream decided he'd be the one to break the silence. He'd be the one to take the leap, because he knew Hob had made sure he'd make a safe landing. He knew that no matter what happened, no matter how much he could get hurt, he was safe. He could trust Hob with his heart, even if there was a chance that he would break it. "I often make the mistake of thinking there is nothing more to my existence than what I have already discovered. I contain all conscious minds throughout the universe, their lives, hopes and dreams. Yet, I forget that the tales of others cannot substitute one's own experience, only enlighten it."

Hob listened to Dream's words attentively. He looked anxious, but would not interrupt. Dream knew he wouldn't. He knew how much Hob cherished the moments where Dream felt ready to share something new. "Today, you have once more shown me there is much I have to learn. For that, I am grateful, Hob Gadling.”

How could Dream not fall in love with someone that treated him like he was the moon? How could the moon not love the sun?

"I'm grateful for you too, you know. The kids loved you. I'm sure I'll be getting asked about you for the rest of the semester. Maybe even longer." Hob's eyes were so fond it made Dream want to cry.

"And how would you like to answer their inquiries?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you like to tell them of your dearest, oldest friend…" Dream leaned in, bringing Hob's hand to his own cheek. He pressed a soft kiss to Hob's palm, and watched as Hob's eyes followed his every move. There was no turning back from this. "...or would you prefer to tell them about your lover, Hob?"

For a moment, time stopped. Their eyes met, and before Dream could get anxious or regret his words, Hob was already standing and leaning over the table, locking their lips together.

Dream thought he'd heard the sound of people cheering outside one of the windows of the New Inn. Hob would certainly be getting many questions from his students come next monday.

#virgo dream writes #dreamling #the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #hob gadling #dream x Hob #Morpheus x Hob #pride fic #dreamling fic #the sandman fic #remember when I used to write?

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grrw-boy · 11 months

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Why is he so pretty? I cant believe i like someone this much! (he's fictional)

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i-am-mldy · 2 years

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Tom Sturridge in The Sandman has the same sexy cadence physical awkwardness and overall general moodiness that Matthew Macfayden had in Pride and Prejudice (2005) so Tom Sturridge as Mr. Darcy send tweet

#im right dont deny #the sandman #morpheus #tom sturridge #matthew macfayden #pride and prejudice #mr darcy #fitzwilliam darcy #original netflix show #netflix orginal #netflix #netflix series #jane austen #neil gaiman #period drama

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sic-vita · 2 years

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The Sandman | Morpheus awkwardly trying to apologise

I did not mean to imply that your efforts beyond the library are without value. I really wish to relieve you of your responsibilities, with which, had I been here, you would never have been burdened.

#the sandman #sandman #tom sturridge #morpheus #dream of the endless #sue's things #sicvita:sandman #his awkwardness sends me #the visible struggle to swallow his pride #his non-apology #but it shows he values lucienne #and he does feel sorry but he cannot change #his ultimate folly

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rosaren2498 · 1 year

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Touch Me, Please - Part 1

Part 4 of my 'It's Not Abduction If You're Willing' series, now and forever more nicknamed 'Self-Indulgence' the series. I have so many of these written already, this whole thing is just... it won't stop and it's because I leaned heavily into literally writing whatever I wanted. Even if you don't enjoy it, I did! I'm on a writing high like no other.

WARNINGS/TAGS: Fem!Reader (no use of y/n), 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!! SMUT Oral (fem!receiving) Touch-Starved!Reader, Touch-Starved!Dream, Idiots In Love, Mutual Pining, Kinda Dom!Dream, Kinda Sub!Reader, Alternating POV's, Reader Daydreams About Wearing A Collar And Lead, I think that's it

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You were slowly going insane.

Living in the Dreaming was like a dream come true, no pun intended. You've never felt like you belonged in the Waking, and the Dreaming was welcoming and absolutely stunning.

It helped that you'd been at the end of your rope. The only good things in your life had been Hob and Teleute, one of whom you didn't even get to see that often due to the nature of her function; still, Teleute was definitely a ray of light in an otherwise dull life, definitely the only friends you had. Everything else beyond them had sucked, including your job, though you would be forever thankful to Hob for offering it. Your flat had been small, though not too terrible, you didn't have any family after living for so long, and working at The New Inn as a bartender had been exhausting because it required you to talk to people, which you hated doing.

Adjusting to the Dreaming had been easy in comparison, but you did have one major issue. You were severely touch-starved. This itself wouldn't be an issue except, prior to living in the Dreaming, Hob had provided all of your needed physical contact, your casual intimacy, which Hob gave as easy as breathing. In the Dreaming though? You didn't want anyone to touch you... well, almost anyone. All you could think about anytime you were in his presence was how ethereal Dream was, how beautiful he looked, and how desperately you wanted to touch him. That wouldn't necessarily be an issue, except Matthew, his raven familiar, seemed to be the only one allowed to touch him; even then, Matthew only perched on his shoulder.

And oh, how you ached; it was like an itch under your skin, slowly driving you mad. You wanted to touch him, you wanted to know what his skin felt like against yours; were his hands soft and smooth, or did he have calluses like any other creator? You wanted to know if his hair was as soft as it looked. You wanted to know if his lips were as plush as they seemed. And, you wanted, desperately, to know if he tasted as inhuman as he sometimes looked. But he'd so far been very careful not to touch you, beyond the occasional brush of fingers against your chin when you wouldn't meet his eyes (a rare occurrence, really); you thought you might combust if he didn't touch you soon, properly.

Dream wasn't doing much better than you were. The way you had taken to his realm, to his dreams and nightmares, had made his heart soar. But the more time he spent around you, the stronger his desire to touch you grew. It was getting more and more difficult to not just reach out and touch, but he'd already broken his promise once or twice when you had refused to meet his gaze; he'd guided your chin up with the gentlest of touches. He had sworn not to touch you... but it was getting nearly impossible to resist.

You were just so beautiful and he wanted to show you just how beautiful he found you; he just needed your permission first. It was clear to him that you did not enjoy physical contact unless it came from Hob, who always clearly telegraphed that he was going to touch her before he actually did. According to Hob, he had once almost knocked out one of his customers who had touched you without permission because, evidently, you'd flinched rather violently. So, no, he wouldn't touch you; not unless you made it clear it was okay.

But his logic did nothing to soothe the burning under his skin, nor quell the ache steadily growing inside him, the almost desperate desire to touch every inch of your skin and worship you the way you deserved. He wanted to memorize every inch of your body, not only with his hands but with his lips and tongue as well. He wanted to kiss every part of you and leave his marks all over your skin. It didn't help that you wore his coat all the time now either; it made the possessive creature inside him simultaneously purr in satisfaction and want to properly stake his claim.

It came to a head when he had what you called his 'Kingly Duties', and he had wanted you there with him. You were his consort, his queen, his love, even if he had yet to show you just how much he loved you. You had agreed readily enough, and he'd been expecting to need to make you a throne, would've eagerly done so, but you hadn't even asked.

Instead, he was sitting on his throne, but you... oh, you were trying to drive him to his little sister's realm, surely. You sat lounged at the base of his throne, by his feet. At first, though the sight had made his mouth water, your position had been relatively easy to ignore because you weren't touching. Then, very slowly, as if he were an easily spooked animal, you brushed your arm against his leg, your shoulder brushing his thigh. He forced himself to ignore it, but over the course of several long minutes, your arm and shoulder slowly began pressing more and more firmly against his leg and thigh, a line of distracting warmth burning through his pants, until you were pressed solidly against him.

Instead of the line of contact acting like a balm against his desire to touch you, it only made it worse, and he acted without thinking. One second, his hand was on the arm of his throne, the next it was threaded through your hair; you both froze at the same time. Dream was seconds away from jerking his hand away when you suddenly shuddered, whimpered under your breath, and slumped into him, leaning your head back enticingly; his lips parted and his mouth went dry when he caught sight of how heavy-lidded your gaze had abruptly become. He slowly began petting your hair, gently running his fingers through it.

You... were in Heaven. Dream's hand was soft and unbearably gentle in your hair, his nails lightly scratched at your scalp in a way that made you want to nuzzle into him like a cat, and your eyes were drooping from pleasure. It turned out that draping yourself at his feet like a fucking concubine had been an excellent idea.

You hardly managed to pay even the tiniest bit of attention to the delegation that was led into the throne room. You could feel their gaze, could hear their whispers, but you literally couldn't have cared less; Dream's hand didn't stop caressing your head, and his voice betrayed nothing. He seemed perfectly calm, and it caused an image to pop up in your head, unbidden; an image of something very close to what was already happening, except that you were dressed more like an actual concubine. Your throat and shoulders were exposed by the then straps keeping your top on, though your bottoms were riding low, revealing a small strip of your stomach; both areas were littered with hickeys, bites, and bruises. What caused a pleasurable shudder to run down your spine was what was around your neck in your little daydream; a gleaming black collar with shining stars like the inside of his robe, a black lead attached to it that was wrapped around Dream's hand while he sat on his throne; the lead was pulled just tight enough to force your head back a little to fully expose your throat; all of them being clear signs of Dream's claim on you that you desperately wished were more than just an image in your head. Then, the hand in your hair twitched, breaking you out of your little daydream; your cheeks heated as you abruptly remembered that he could see daydreams as well as dreams and nightmares.

Dream found it quite difficult to focus with your daydream playing in his head, but he managed; he did have eons of practice. When the delegation was finally gone and you both were alone, he slowly removed his hand from your hair; it took all of his self-control not to drag you to your chambers - or his own - when a half-choked whine slipped out of your mouth. You avoided looking at him, even as he stood from his throne. The urge to touch you again was rapidly growing, and he hesitated only a moment before offering his hand to you. Despite clearly being embarrassed, and still not looking at him, you didn't hesitate to take his hand; it made something warm curl in his chest. He grasped your hand and pulled you up, using just a little extra strength than was necessary so that you stumbled forward; he used it as an excuse to place his hands on your waist, steadying you.

"Your daydreams are... interesting."

Your cheeks darkened further, but you didn't pull away from him, which he counted as a victory. In fact, you actually seemed to melt into him; it only made his desire burn hotter. One of his hands slowly began tracing invisible patterns on your waist as you continued to avoid his gaze; it made him pout.

"I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean.... please, forgive me."

Did you actually think he was upset? "There is nothing to apologize for." He paused for a moment before managing to ask his question. "Does it bother you when I touch you?"

You instantly shook your head, suddenly meeting his eyes; your own shined with something he could've sworn was desperation. "No, not at all. I... I really like it when you touch me."

You bit your lip as you looked into Dream's enchanting twin-star eyes, stomach twisting in arousal at the look in them. One of his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you barely managed to bite back a gasp; his touch was electrifying, even through the layers of clothes. Sand abruptly swirled around you and then something impossibly soft was against your back; a brief glance around told you that he'd taken you to his chambers. He was kneeling between your legs, but barely touching you now.

"Would you allow me to continue to do so?"

You whimpered at the words, nodding rapidly; fucking hell, his voice. "Yes. I want you to touch me, please."

A sound that could only be described as a growl came from him, so deep that you felt it in your chest, causing you to shudder; a second later, his hands were everywhere. He caressed your body like you were something precious, like you were a goddess and his entire reason for existing was worshipping you; it was dizzying, but you wanted, needed, to feel skin-on-skin contact. You squirmed until he pulled back, his eyes dark except for the stars, but the look on his face made your heart hurt; he looked like if you denied him now, he would cry.

"I want... please."

He leaned down, your lips suddenly inches apart. "What do you want? Tell me."

It sounded more like a plea than a demand, and how could you possibly deny him? "I want to feel your bare skin against mine." You could feel the heat in your cheeks again, but the embarrassment was promptly washed away by the fucking groan Dream made, deep in his chest.

He pulled away from you only so he could carefully remove his jacket from you, your top turning to sand and vanishing as soon as it was gone; you sucked in a sharp breath at the first touch of his fingers on your bare skin. Instinctively, your hands shot out and you couldn't contain your whimper when they made contact with his bare shoulders; his own robe and shirt that had been underneath it had been turned to sand as well. A fine tremor ran through his body and you almost pulled your hands away, but then he moved so quickly that you didn't even see it, his hand grasping your wrist; you froze as he held one of your hands in place; his eyes were black now, supernovas shining within.

"Please."

You shuddered at the desperation in his voice, the absolute plea of just one word, and everything suddenly clicked into place; he didn't actually have an aversion to touch, he was touch-starved just like you.

His hand released your wrist and you slowly began dragging your fingers along his shoulders, up and down his arms. Another tremor rolled through him and then he practically fell into you, his hands immediately back on you, exploring every inch of your bare skin that he could. You couldn't have contained your gasps and whimpers of delight that every touch of his seemed to bring out if you'd tried. You weren't embarrassed by them, however, because he seemed just as affected by your touch; every touch returned seemed to have him fighting not to groan; he didn't always win.

When his lips brushed against yours, featherlight, you whined; your lips parted for him almost automatically. Another growl tore from his throat, and then his lips were on yours and you couldn't have stopped the way your hips rolled against his if you'd tried. You moaned simultaneously, your tongues tangling together in a heated, messy kiss. You've never been kissed like this before, as if you were a feast and he was starving; it was passionate, it was dirty, and it was perfect. Warmth pooled in your gut and between your legs as Dream's tongue slid against your own; you didn't have a lot of experience with kissing, but Dream didn't seem to care, if the way he plundered your mouth was any indication.

He slowly trailed his hands up to the straps of your bra, lightly tugging on it; the way you moaned enthusiastically into his mouth made him want to devour you entirely, but he managed to hold himself back, settling for allowing your bra to vanish.

As soon as your bra disappeared, Dream finally broke the kiss; you gasped for breath as his lips immediately met your throat, his hands sliding down to your breasts. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, causing an embarrassing whine to slip from your mouth. The sound only seemed to encourage him, his mouth sucking mark after mark onto your throat and shoulders while his hands busied themselves with making you squirm, moan, and whimper at every touch of your breasts; you had never been so turned on in your life.

"Dream."

He groaned at the sound of his name on your tongue, so sweet, his lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone, nipping and sucking everywhere his mouth could reach; you were writhing beneath him and it was rapidly wrecking his control. Your hips suddenly rolled against his and he growled again, rolling his hips and pressing his lower body flush against yours just as he abruptly bit down. Your back arched beautifully at the sudden mix of pleasure and pain, a high-pitched moan ripping free from your throat. He could feel your nails lightly digging into his back, dragging down a bit, and he groaned again as your hips rolled against his once more.

When Dream released his teeth from your collarbone, he ducked his head down further so his mouth enveloped your breast and you cried out his name, rutting your hips desperately against his. His hips began to steadily roll against yours and the perfect friction could've made you cry; you wanted him more than you had ever wanted anyone. Panting for breath already, you tangled a hand in his hair - fuck, it was as soft as it looked - while the other tried to continue your own exploration of his bare, silk-smooth skin. However, you could hardly focus on anything other than the pleasure he was bringing you. His mouth utterly worshipped your breasts, alternating between them while he licked and sucked at your nipples, causing them to quickly stiffen under his ministrations.

When he finally managed to pull his mouth from your breasts, he continued to trail gentle kisses and little nips down your stomach, stopping only when he reached the waistband of your bottoms. He looked up at you through his lashes with a hungry gaze, feeling you shudder beneath him; he felt his lips twitch up into a smirk. He allowed his fingers to lightly trace along the waistband, another whimper slipping out of your pretty mouth.

"Please," you gasped. "Dream, please." You couldn't form any other words, but he didn't seem to mind; you shivered when your bottoms vanished beneath his touch. A choked moan slipped out of your mouth when his fingers suddenly brushed against your thigh, featherlight.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to touch you these last several months. How much I have wanted to taste you."

You whined, high and needy and too far gone to be embarrassed anymore. You spread your thighs from him so he could settle between them, trailing even more nips and kisses, this time up and down your thighs. You were faintly trembling now - he was so close to where you wanted him to be - but he didn't touch your aching core yet; instead, he latched his mouth onto the inside of your left thigh, sucking hard enough to make you cry out again. A litany of pleas spilled from your mouth as one of his hands pinned your hips to the bed while the other kept your thigh in place.

"Patience, little dreamling. I will give you what you need."

You were bordering on mindless now; all you could think about was his mouth, his hands, his tongue. He left a multitude of bite marks and hickeys all over your left thigh and then switched to your right to do the same before finally, finally, dragging his tongue through your soaked folds; you nearly sobbed.

A deep groan rumbled through him as he finally tasted you; you were slightly sweet, slightly tangy, and he was already addicted. The sound you made when he groaned, when mixed with your taste, made it impossible for him to hold himself back any longer and he buried his face into your pussy, devouring you. He kept your hips pinned as he licked, sucked, and nipped at your folds alternating to occasionally swipe his tongue at your clit; your hands were tangled in his hair in an effort to ground yourself and he knew he'd never get enough of you now.

Your thighs were beginning to shake, you were already so fucking close. When he shoved his tongue into you, you pulled on his hair as you cried out, his pleased growl rumbling through you and nearly sending you over the edge. You were babbling, begging, though you weren't entirely sure if you were begging for more, or for him to let you cum, or if it was just an incoherent string of pleas, though you were aware of the breathless way you whined his name; his answering groan was like a shockwave of pleasure.

Though he didn't remove his mouth from you, he allowed his voice to echo in the room around you as he thrust his tongue deeper into you. "You're so close for me, aren't you, my heart?" He shuddered at your answering whine. "Be a good girl and cum for me." He pulled his tongue out just to seal his mouth around your clit, sucking hard. He watched as you immediately seized underneath him, hips trying in vain to buck against his grip as you came. He watched your face avidly, memorizing the gorgeous expression on your face as you came on his tongue.

You threw your head back with a cry as your orgasm crashed into you like a tsunami, your toes curling, your back arching, your vision nearly whiting out. Dream didn't let up, curling his tongue inside you and lapping at your juices like they were his favorite meal, each flick of his tongue sending another wave of pleasure rolling through you; he didn't pull away until you were a shaking, panting, trembling mess.

He slowly crawled back up your body, planting soft kisses as he went, before pressing his mouth to yours in a much gentler kiss than earlier; you shuddered at the taste of your juices on his lips, giving a weak moan. When your hands made an attempt for the button of his jeans, he took your wrists in hand, shaking his head as he pulled back from your mouth.

You frowned at him. "But you didn't-"

He cut you off with another gentle kiss. "I think you will find that I did."

Your eyes widened and you looked down your bodies, catching sight of the steadily darkening wet spot on the front of his jeans. Your gaze snapped up back to his. "Did you... were you rocking against the bed?"

He seemed almost embarrassed, if the light flush spreading on his cheeks was any indication.

"You have no idea how good you taste."

He smirked when you flushed in response, opening your mouth to counter, but you were cut off before you even began when you yawned. He couldn't help but allow his smirk to soften into a smile at how disgruntled you looked by your yawn; yes you were gorgeous, but you were also adorable. He shifted you around until you were draped over him, his arms curling tight around you, holding you as close as possible; his lips brushed your forehead as he stroked your back.

"Sleep little dreamling. I will be here when you wake."

You allowed your eyes to close before speaking. "I'd hope so. I still need to explore you, too." You thought you might have heard a strangled noise leave him, but you dropped into sleep's waiting embrace before he could respond.

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Hope you enjoyed! I've never liked how I write smut and would very much welcome some constructive criticism on it so that I may improve.

I already have Part 2 of this story, and 2 others written and ready to be posted, while I'm working on a 3rd (technically, I have 4 written pieces, but I'm not sure where 2 of them fit into the timeline so...) This will be added to my Masterlist and posted on my Ao3 soon. In fact, part 2 will likely be on Ao3 before here.

#dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless x you #morpheus x you #Featuring Author's Voice Kink In Regards To Dream's Voice #Reader Is Desperate #Then Again So Is Dream So It's Balanced #Also Starring Author's Marking Kink #AND Praise Kink (Giving & Receiving)#Dream Also Has A Praise Kink Guys (Giving & Receiving)#Begging (Reader Has No Pride Because Neither Do I)#My Favorite One Is Up Next #Hair-Pulling Kink?

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