#oneiros

To say that you had a shitty day would have been a gross misunderstanding. Pretty much everything that could have gone wrong, had.

First, you woke up hours before you were supposed to be up for the day, when you heard a weird noise in your bedroom. It took you just a couple of moments to wake up fully to realise that the noise you were hearing is from dripping water. Water, that was currently dripping from your ceiling and slattering on the floor.

By the time it took you to put a bucket under the leak, reach your neighbours, who, apparently, had a burst pipe, and call for your building maintenance team, there was barely an hour left before you had to be up for the day.

You sighed, knowing that there was no point by then to even attempt to go back to sleep. As much as you wanted to go back to the soothing embrace of The Dreaming, you knew that Morpheus had to go back to his duties. It was better to just start the day bright and early. And, maybe, if you're lucky, you can try to sneak back into the Dreaming a little bit earlier than usual.

The universe had other plans, though. Being awake from such an unusual hour put your head in a weird place. The whole world felt like it was moving 2 seconds faster than you did, and you felt completely off balance.

The sleeve of your favourite cosy knit sweater got caught on the door handle just as you were going through the door, yanking your body back with an unmistakable rip. Mourning the loss of your sweater, you changed out of it in a rush and ran out the door to catch the train to work. Only there did you realise that you put the new blouse inside out in your haste.

Burrowing deeper into your scarf, in both shame and cold, you decided to just pop into the café bathroom on the way to work. You needed more caffeine anyway.

Changing out of the blouse in lightning speed, you thanked the barista behind the counter, grabbed your coffee and rushed out the door. Only to have your boot slip right next to the entrance to your work, making you lose your footing. In the last-ditch effort to save yourself from further embarrassment this fine morning, you grabbed onto the wall for support, which stopped your descent to the cement pavement. But nothing comes free, and you paid the price for that dearly in the currency of your precious coffee. The cup crumpled in your hand and spilt the, thankfully not scalding anymore, liquid right down your pants.

You ended up using your scarf to try and soak up the coffee-drenched material, giving up halfway through. You stuffed the ruined scarf back in your bag and rushed up the stairs to, hopefully, survive the workday.

The dark colour of your pants thankfully covered the coffee stain, so you weren't that bad off, all things considered. What was bad, though, was your entire workday.

From sending an important email to the wrong Reece in the company (why are there so many of them?? Just pick another name!) to your laptop having to update its software right before an important video meeting. You ended up joining that halfway through, barging in with your microphone unmuted, where the host actually had to stop and ask you to mute yourself. During lunch, you swallowed a small fish bone that you felt lodge in your throat for hours after that. The elevator was not working right when you had to go 7 floors up for another meeting, so you arrived all sweaty and panting out of breath - you really should make use of that free gym membership that the company offered.

So, you definitely had better days this year.

In the attempt to change the day, you decided to take it easy for the evening. You knew you had a bottle of wine calling your name somewhere in the cupboard. After work, you stopped at a supermarket and got yourself a box of cupcakes, as a means to drown yourself in sugar.

Thankfully, the way back home was less of a fight for your life. You closed the doors behind yourself, kicked off your shoes, and collapsed on the sofa. As much as you wanted to wrap yourself in a blanket, watch some trashy TV and stuff your mouth full of cupcake icing, or, better yet, to fall asleep and wake up in the Dreaming, you felt sweaty. The coffee stains dried ages ago, and your pants felt stiff and sticky.

You dragged yourself off the sofa and into your bathroom, dedicating the last of your energy to the task at hand. You started filling your tub full of water, dropped a bath bomb in and watched it fizz, creating a mountain of bubbles. You grabbed your box of cheap cupcakes, a glass of wine, some half-decent candles and the cosiest shirt to sleep in afterwards, and closed the doors to trap the steam in.

Dipping a foot in, you sighed in bliss. The water, just on the pleasant side of hot, tingling the skin and sending goosebumps down your back. You could feel it seeping through the skin and muscles, before finally reaching your freezing bones. You haven't even realised how cold you've been, but it would make sense given your poor attire for the day, which ended up being plagued with unrelenting winds and sporadic rains.

You slowly eased yourself in until your neck, and then deeper some more, until the bubbles tickled your nose, and stayed there. When it felt like you could feel your limbs again, you reached out for the cupcake that you left on the rim of the bathtub and stuffed it in your mouth.

Self-care at its best.

Somewhere between your third cupcake and half an overfilled glass of wine, you felt the air in your small bathroom, now resembling more of a sauna, shift. You didn't need to turn your head to know that you were no longer alone, and a smile touched your lips.

You were feeling much better already, so you opened your eyes just to drink in the sheer beauty of him.

Your Dream stood by the door in all his regal beauty. Head held high, back straight, wrapped in black. His lips, for once, were not set in a hard frown, shoulders relaxed just a fraction. An unmistakable softness in his eyes.

The same look, only you were ever privy to.

"My love." He greets you, eyes softening even further at the sight of you, submerged in bubbles and warm candlelight. Voice a touch above a whisper, as if he was afraid to disturb the tranquil bubble you created for yourself.

"Hi, love." You smile back at him, lifting a hand out of the water and reaching toward him with a grabby hand. He takes it as a confirmation that you want him closer, and wastes not a single second before he glides over to your side.

His hand grasps yours as he lowers his head to lay a kiss on the back of your hand. His eyes are still watching you like you're the single most important creation in this universe. Reverent tenderness etched into every move, to convey just how grateful he is that you deem him worthy of your presence.

You can feel a hot blush climbing its way over your neck and cheeks. You hoped it would have been harder to notice with the small room being this steamy and bathed in candlelight, but he knew you well enough to know the effect he always has on you. Amusement dances in his eyes, and he keeps a lingering kiss pressed to your skin, lips softly brushing the back of your hand for longer than he should have.

A corner of your lips twitches into a wicked smile you direct at him, and you tug your arm back. With him absolutely refusing to relinquish his hold, he follows. He leans over the rim of the bathtub and lays a kiss on your forehead. You close your eyes in bliss and drink in the peace and rightness of this very moment after the day of never-ending chaos. 

"Long day?" He mumbles into your skin, moving a hairbreadth away, refusing to let more distance between the two of you. You hum in response.

"Endless." Your body shakes in laughter at the stupid joke you made. It was reassuring to know that you haven’t been defeated by this crappy day, and you were still the funniest person in this room.

He fights the urge to roll his eyes, but his lips twitch in amusement. Not because the joke was funny - far from that. He simply enjoyed watching happiness dance across your cheeks, touching the corners of your eyes and settling on your plump, soft lips. He will stomach a lifetime of less-than-funny jokes, just for the privilege of seeing you like this. And he will do it gladly.

He reaches his other hand out and brushes your hair back from your face.

"Tell me about it." He kneels next to the bathtub you’re lying in, one hand still grasping yours. You lower it and settle on your stomach, his coat sleeve submerging into the colourful water hidden under the mountain of bubbles. His other hand continues to brush your hair softly, thumb occasionally brushing your cheek or temple, eyes not leaving your face for a moment.

His undivided attention would put anyone, Gods and mortals, on the edge. But to you, the intensity in his gaze will always feel like home. Like safety.

You start recounting your day and how everything that could have gone wrong, pretty much had. Morpheus listens attentively, letting out small hums here and there. His gaze flickering across your face, but never straying any further.

At some point during your story, you feel his fingertips start to wander over the slick skin of your stomach, down the side of your hip. He draws soothing circles over your thighs, moving up and down, featherlight touches just on the side of soft and not ticklish. You start to relax deeper into soapy water without even realising it.

Soon, shapes and patterns start moving up your hip and back over your stomach, large hand splaying there in a gesture that could only be described as possessive.

Curious fingertips move up your ribs, reacquainting with the softness of your body. The one he will spend an eternity worshipping, if you only let him.

Your fingers follow his in their path, settling on the back of his hand, tracing soft shapes of your own.

Once your story starts winding down, you feel his hand inching up once again. He stops just at the underside of your breast, brushing the delicate skin there with the backs of his fingers, but refusing to go any further. You interlock your hands and move them up, letting him know you're just as excited as he is to have his hands wandering. He squeezes your breast softly, and you can see his shoulders loosen up just a fraction more. His impeccable posture, even when kneeling next to you, unwinding more, as if he was breathing out the stress of his own day. You make out the softest of sighs leaving his lips.

You crack your eye open and send him a questioning look. He was very touchy this evening. Not that you're complaining, of course.

His thumb brushes over your nipple, and your breath catches. You barely suppress a shiver racing down your spine as he continues to watch you, eyes full of wonder. As if you were the most beautiful life in this realm and any other. The most wondrous creature that even he, the Lord of Dreams and Nightmares, could have ever imagined. His beautiful, strong, smart, resilient queen.

"Let me take care of you, my love." He whispers. He turns his palm to grasp your wrist and lifts your hands up to his lips once more. He plants a soft kiss, eyes closing in comfort.

You sigh, mesmerised. The love in his eyes, the adoration etched into every single line of his body. This beautiful, powerful being, on his knees in front of you, pleading with you just so he could touch you. You never felt more beautiful. Never felt this powerful. You nod your head, as words refuse to form on your tongue any longer, and he leans down, locking his lips with yours.

The kiss is all-consuming. Heavy and filled with passion. His tongue locking in a dance with yours, fighting for dominance, lips nipping yours softly. You feel his hand grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as he indulges in something he could not stop thinking about since the last time he saw you. His other hand moves over your chest, a familiar weight of your breast settling in his palm. He could feel something deep in his chest flip with the rightness of this moment.

You’re so lost in the burning feeling coursing through your veins that you don’t even notice when you start sitting up, pushing back into him. You wrap both your arms around his neck, trying to use them as leverage to pull yourself, and tangle your fingers in his messy hair.

You feel his hand leave your chest to cradle your ribcage, nudging you to lie back into the steaming water, and you crack an eye open to look at him in confusion again. He's there, bent over the porcelain rim of the bathtub, and you have half a mind to ask him what he’s doing, before you feel his hands slowly start to wander again. 

He moves slowly, taking his time and indulging. Testing and teasing, fingers dipping in and out of the water to follow the curves of your skin. Still so tender that it sends tingles down your arms and legs, but never more than that.

He moves his fingertips up and down the length of your side, but his game starts to get tiresome to you, and you open your eyes to glare at him in reprimand. He has absolutely no shame. No guilt in his eyes. Just open wonder and insatiable hunger in the depths of his bottomless black eyes, flecked in stardust.

You open your mouth to tell him off when you feel his fingers inch up your inner thigh towards where you want him the most right now. He moves with a clear purpose, and it's enough to make you choke on your own words, lips parting in a choked gasp. He clearly takes that as a prized victory, judging by the slight twitch of his lips.

His thumb brushes over your clit briefly, but you know him well enough to know that that was no accident.

'Smug bastard...'

Before you can say anything to him, his finger circles your sensitive nub, and you can feel your knees jerk in automatic response. He rubs circles around it, alternating between tight and fast, and featherlight, for so long, but you have no chance to predict what he will do next and stay just on the edge. But never enough to actually push you over it.

You let out a mewl, thighs trembling and bending at your knees. Your hand shoots out to wrap around his wrist, and he tuts at you in reprimand, eyes boring deep into yours.

"Do not deprive me of yourself." His deep drawl makes your heart flip, the demand leaving no room for argument. But he clearly misunderstood your intentions - you were not aiming to stop him. You just needed him to stop teasing already. You roll your eyes at him and his antics.

"Then touch me properly."

Your fingers relax around his wrist, and that's all the invitation he was looking for.

His fingers slide lower, leaving your throbbing clit, and you feel his finger plunging inside you with barely any preamble. Your breath catches at the sudden intrusion, but you feel no discomfort. You were past the prep needing stage of his little game. His ring finger follows shortly after, and you involuntarily let out a gasp.

His other hand moves your head towards him, and he leans in to claim your lips again. He could feel your hot, tight walls quiver around his fingers, and he sighs in delight.

Morpheus continues kissing you breathless, one hand still keeping your head in place, and you're happy to give him the control he's looking for. His fingers finally start moving and curling, finding that perfect sweet spot deep inside you with ease and familiarity, and you lurch from the water and into him.

But he's already there, laying you back down, his curled fingers never stopping their perfect assault, and you barely have the mind to fill your lungs with oxygen. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the sensations burning through your limbs. You arch your chest, vaguely aware of the water sloshing around you. 

"Eyes on me." He commands, and you no longer have any willpower to deny him. Anything. You will do anything he wants, as long as he doesn’t stop.

Your eyes meet, and the absolute hunger and adoration in his eyes makes you let you the most pathetic moan. His fingers still working you open, you reach out your other hand towards his face, and he leans his cheek into your palm, nuzzling the skin there. The act so pure and innocent, and so opposite from what he's currently doing with his other hand, that it threatens to give you whiplash.

The obscene squelching you can hear over the blood rushing in your ears makes you let out a deep moan, heat coiling at the pit of your stomach. You’re breathing hard, not able to fill your lungs nearly enough, but you tug his face back towards yours until your lips clash once again. It’s all teeth and tongue and all shaking desperation to be closer. 

Your hands anchor to him, one tangled in his messy hair, the other gripping his coat lapel. 

His hand is moving faster now, and it's not long before you can feel a third finger enter you, stretching you further. You grip his hair tighter, and you can feel his chest vibrate with a moan he's fighting to suppress.

You know he likes you much more vocal, though, so you detach your lips from his with some difficulty and let out a long whine.

His hand moves faster, thumb drawing tight and fast circles around your clit to bring you closer and closer. Rapidly cooling water is sloshing around you, and you’re pretty sure there’s a puddle on your bathroom floor. Wouldn't it be fun to flood your neighbours tonight?

You feel his pace slowing down again, fingers curling just right to hit that sweetest spot over and over again. Your whines are getting louder, no longer being completely drowned out by the squelching and water sloshing and spilling from your tub.

You feel his nose nudge your cheek, and he whispers something in your ear, but you're far too lost in your pleasure to understand or even hear him. His name leaves your lips in a never-ending chant, as if it's the only thing you still know how to do.

His thumb moves across your clit, fingers moving in and out of your hole at a swift pace, and you feel the coil tighten even further. Morpheus's fingers tighten around the back of your neck to turn you back to him, and he slots his mouth over yours. He swallows up the moans leaving your lips, letting them slither down his throat as he continues to kiss the life out of you.

You come crashing with no warning, lips parting from his to let out the most guttural moan. He lets the moment pass, committing the sound to his memory to revisit later, before he follows after your lips again and continues to steal the breath right out of your lungs. Your body is trembling uncontrollably, heat coursing through and spreading in your veins.

He lets you ride out your high on his fingers, never ceasing the softest touches, teeth nipping at your kiss-bitten lips, brushing against the crown of your head and leaving soft kisses, thumb brushing your cheek. You vaguely note that he's breathing harder and deeper than normal, exhales catching on his lips.

Your breathing is ragged, and you can't seem to fill your lungs with enough air. The humid air in the bathroom is not helping with the task at hand, but he doesn't rush you. Your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest. He keeps planting little kisses everywhere his lips could reach, giving you enough time to come back to him.

Once you have enough strength to open your eyes, you feel him cradle your jaw with both hands and return to your lips for a messy, sloppy kiss. Your trembling hands lift off from where they were gripping the tub rim to grasp at his coat, desperately clinging to the safety and security that his arms guarantee.

You want to be closer to him. You need him closer.

He's wearing too many clothes, and you need to touch his skin, now.

"Please…" you mutter right into his mouth, and he doesn't need more than that to understand what you need. He plants a kiss on the tip of your nose, before you feel his arm wrap around the backs of your knees, the other supporting your back, and you use your remaining strength to grip his shoulders.

He stands up with you in his arms, dripping water all over, but he doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he can't seem to stop kissing every inch of you that his lips can reach. He goes down on one knee once again and sits you up on the rim of the bathtub.

Morpheus grabs a towel and starts drying your body off, wrapping it around your shoulders and kissing your temple. He moves down your body, his eyes tracking his own hands and their path, making sure to catch every single drop of water as if it's the most important job that he's been blessed with in his existence. As if you're the most precious thing to him that ever existed.

He makes sure to taste every newly dry inch of your skin on his lips. You can feel his lips on your shoulders, moving down to your chest in the most comforting of ways. He kisses your wrists and palms, and the warmth spreads through your insides. The kisses he lies across your ribs makes you suppress a giggle from the ticklish feeling, and he cracks a small smile in response. When his lips move from your knee to the inside of your thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin there, you grip his hair in warning and Morpheus all but growls.

"My love." You mutter in a voice as stern as you could muster at this moment, which, to be fair, wasn't much, but he stills, eyes lifting to yours. Your fingers relax in his hair, and you brush it softly, fingers hooking under his chin, bringing his face up. He follows as if under a spell.

"Let's get out of here, love. It's getting chilly." You continue, wanting more than anything to lie down in your soft bed and wrap yourself around your Dream.

Morpheus, by the looks of it, could not agree more with your idea. He flicks his wrist, and the fluffiest bathrobe wraps around you. You snuggle deeper into it, vaguely registering that it's definitely not one of the ones you own - he must have created it for you just now.

You smile at him in gratefulness and lean down to peck his forehead. He basks in the moment, fingers flexing at your sides, before lifting you back in his arms and standing up. You lean your head on his shoulder as he carries you out and into your bedroom.

Your head hits the pillow, and you feel his familiar weight settle between your legs as you give him a smile that he returns in earnest. His nose bumps into yours, and you hear him whisper against your lips.

"Let us see if we can make this evening more pleasing, my love." His eyes twinkle with the galaxies you'll never get tired of getting lost in, and you grin back at him.

He brushes a strand of hair back from your forehead.