#sandman dc

SURPRISE! I'm back!!!

I know that Chapter 36 was supposed to be gender reveal/baby name reveal, but the knight x princess smut brainworms would NOT leave me alone. Thus, 7k+ words of sin were created. It gets pretty filthy at the end ngl. We have a lot of important pregnancy stuff and plot to get through after this, so I won't be able to get another smut chapter up soon.

Thank you so much for the support for last chapter, it meant so much and definitely encouraged me to try and post quickly! I can't believe we're approaching 3 whole years of this fic. I feel like I should throw a party or something lol!

I hope you enjoy this chapter :) Remember to check out the companion playlist to this fic here if you're interested. I do continuously update it so thanks to everyone who's given me song suggestions, I will check them out!

Morpheus leads you by the hand through the empty white corridors of his palace. He stops, once, twice, to look back at you with dark, longing eyes, like his feelings for you and the desire brewing in him have blotted out every other desire in his mind. Nothing is more important than you to him, not even walking straight.

He presses your back into a cold marble wall and captures your mouth in his. You moan into his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck and push yourself up towards him, rubbing your soft body robed in delicate silk against his tall, muscled frame, still clad in steel armor.

You kiss him back, nipping his bottom lip, arching yourself closer. The metal of his armor is cool on your heated skin, even through your gown, and your nipples harden from the sensation.

His hands roam across your spread thighs, pawing at your dress. He slides the silk brocade up slowly, exposing more and more of your legs to his touch.

You kiss him, drawing it out sweetly, your nose brushing his and your hands moving into his hair,  before they wander down his neck to his armor. The edges of the steel plate are sharp against your fingertips. If you grind into him again, your dress might catch on his armor and tear off of you…

You open your mouth to feel his tongue slide against yours in a messy, wet kiss. You whine as Morpheus pulls away, revealing his eyes filled with black pupils blown out with desire. “Wait-“ He starts to order in a rough voice while his fingers creep higher and higher on your thighs.

“But Morpheus…” You sigh. You’re so overheated, your skin feels so warm, and the only person who can make you feel better is him.

He levels you with a sharp, authoritative look that you can’t help but obey. You melt into him like clay in the hands of a sculptor. “Come on.” Morpheus takes you through another set of long, spacious halls.

When you stumble over your feet, he lifts you into his arms so you can rest without hurting yourself while he takes over, walking much faster than you could have.

Dream pushes open the gilded doors of your chambers and without letting you go, gently sets you on your feet in front of the large featherbed draped in silk satin and brocade. Like a true knight, he waits until you’ve steadied yourself on his shoulder first, only moving after he’s certain you’re safe.

You brace yourself on the headboard and watch as shadows swirl in his outstretched palm, forming the shape of a small, midnight-blue velvet box. “This,” Morpheus begins as he turns to show it to you, “is for you.”

He stands in front of you with what must be an engagement ring and slowly sinks down, his armor clinking when his knees reach the ground.

You wait for him to do what he stopped your heated kisses for, to place the ring on your finger and make you his betrothed.

But Morpheus doesn’t hold the box out. He kneels there in stunned silence, possessively tracing the outline of your form and following the bounce of your full breasts as you . “Will you-“ He starts once more, determined to get the words out.

He fails again, going quiet while he stares at you pressing your thighs together, shifting your hips around to stifle the heat building in your stomach. Morpheus knows exactly what he’ll find if he lifts your skirt up, and he wants it so badly that he can’t focus on fucking asking you to marry him.

Your cotton panties grow translucent and uncomfortably wet with arousal, clinging to your sticky folds. “Will I what, Morpheus?” You tease, dragging one of your legs up and your skirt with it to reveal your bare ankle, then more and more of your leg.

The sight of you posed so seductively, your eyes hooded with need and a brilliant flush crawling from your cheeks and across your tits, disappearing under the neckline of your gown, completely unhinges him.

His eyes, framed by raven-feather black eyelashes, glint and his pink lips part so his tongue can dampen them.

The ring box clatters to the floor.

Morpheus draws your skirt up, up, exposing your knees, then your curved thighs. You see the frenzy building in him and know the vile, wicked, filthy things he’s dreaming up in his head.

He lets out a quiet groan that makes you clench around nothing, around emptiness that you desperately need him to fill. Morpheus leans down to kiss the side of your ankle, slowly trailing small butterfly kisses up your leg while his large palms rub up and down the backs of your thighs, spreading more heat across your skin instead of cooling you down.

You slump against the bedpost, your head lolling to the side in pleasure. Before he asks, you spread your legs wider, wordlessly begging him to help you with the mess you’re making under your ruined underwear.

What will it take to get Morpheus to tear the gown from your shoulders? The silk is overstimulating in a way that it wasn’t earlier, and you want nothing more than to free your sensitive tits to the air and his hungry gaze.

You have a brilliant idea.

Just as Dream kisses his way between your thighs, you nudge him all the way back with your foot. You ensure that the gown of your skirt falls to conceal your modesty- whatever modesty you have left.

Morpheus growls low in his chest after you deny him, his eyes slitted in displeasure.

He slips between your legs again and maneuvers you onto his shoulders, lifting you onto the bed. You get no mercy, no chance to recover.

Dream rakes your gossamer skirt all the way up past your hips and audibly moans when he sees your clit rubbing against your panties.

“Morpheus,” You whimper piteously, trying and failing to drag the top of your beautiful white gown down to your waist. “Please, help me…” You beg, peering down at him from between your sensuously round breasts.

He lunges over you, his face stony, and tears the bodice of your dress apart in one sudden motion, ripping it all the way down to your hips. He does the same to your ruined underwear, tossing it aside so you have nothing to hide behind.

You’re helpless beneath him, naked in all your glory, so vulnerable compared to Morpheus in his suit of armor. Now he can see how flushed your tits are and your painfully hard nipples begging to be soothed by his touch.

He could do anything to you right now and you’d let him. How could you stop him? You arch your back like a cat at the thought of your knight having his way with you, fucking you mercilessly in the scraps of your princess gown and giving you no choice but to take it. You’re his captured prize and you want him to treat you like it, to use you until he’s satiated.

Instead of giving you what you want, Dream leans down to kiss you. He cups your face between his hands and ravages your mouth, kissing, biting, making you keen in pleasure, pinning you down like a little butterfly caught in a trap.

You squirm, pawing at his armor, and you wrap one leg around his hip so you can grind your cunt on him. Slick trickles down your thighs and onto the polished metal as you work your hips in lazy circles.

He breaks the kiss to watch you shiver underneath him and to learn more of your little breathy noises as you beg for his mouth.

One of Morpheus’s hands trails down your throat and past your collarbone, never lingering in one place too long. He hums a low sound of approval as he relishes in your smooth, plush skin, and his appetite grows hungrier when the edges of his plate accidentally catch your skin and leave faint, raised red marks down your tits.

He stops for a moment when he reaches your hard, darkened nipples and fuller breasts, heavy and luscious, glistening with silvery stretch marks. Morpheus glides his finger tips around every curve.

Everywhere he touches you with just his fingers lights up, like a stream of sparks fizzing under your skin lit by his touch.

Morpheus inhales sharply as he cradles one of your breasts in his hand. He shifts, his armor chiming with him, and you realize he must be hard, achingly so, under all that armor, and completely unable to do anything about it as long as he’s pleasuring you.

He leisurely caresses your body, mindful of how tender your tits have become as your baby has grown. His warm, gentle movements work all the stress out and You melt into the bed with a relieved moan, every one of your muscles lax from bliss.

His soft, full lips follow the path of his fingers. He kisses the scratches his armor left on your skin and lathes his tongue over them, soothing the irritation

Dream presses his cheek to the valley in between your breasts, filling his nose with your scent. He can’t stop himself from nuzzling you, leaving behind his own scent, marking you as his all over again.

The spikes of his hair brush your body like feathers. “You’re tickling me,” You giggle, pretending to push him away. Morpheus’s eyes twinkle as he does it again. Bright, happy laughter spills from you, soon joined by his own quiet chuckle. Your joy brings him joy.

When he takes one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks, your laughter is cut off by a squeal of pleasure. It feels incredible, like your body is a violin and he is a virtuoso, charming music out of you as he sends delicious shockwaves through your nerves.

He laps at your tits, careful not to bite down too hard though he nips at the underside of your flesh where Dream knows you can take it. You tremble when his teeth cut into your skin and cry out.

One of his hands holds your round hips down so you can’t close your legs. He’s forcing you to keep rocking your dripping pussy against his armor, back and forth, edging your sensitive clit with the steel plate even though he knows it’s not enough stimulation to make you come.

His mouth releases your nipple with a loud, slick pop before switching to your other neglected breast.

But you can’t bear his sweet torment a second longer, not when your pussy flutters around nothing, leaving you so hollow, so starving for him. “Morpheus, please, I need- I need more…” You plead, tugging on the metal arm holding your hips down in the hopes he’ll slip his fingers between your wet thighs.

Though Morpheus is reluctant to abandon your plump tits, his quick inhale in response tells you how much he wants to devour your cunt until you sob. “As you wish,” He says in a deep, hoarse voice.

He kisses down your rounded stomach with reverence, unable to stop himself from touching your belly and laying his head against it. You watch his defenses fall and his eyes close briefly in relief that he gets to be here with you, worshipping what your love created.

Finally, he reaches the apex of your thighs. With one swift motion, Morpheus brings your hips closer and pulls your legs onto his onyx shoulder pauldrons, opening you up for him.

“It’s so cold!” You squeak, instinctively drawing your knees together.

He huffs in amusement while manhandling you back to where he wants you. “Just keep your thighs there and you’ll warm my armor up,” Morpheus promises, dropping a quick kiss to the inside of one of your knees. “Relax.” And with a playful, mischievous light in his eyes, he bites the spot he just kissed hard enough to bruise, leaving behind a perfect red bite mark.

You jump, your legs jolting to get away, but he’s trapped you with his strong hands and all you accomplish is feeling even more helpless, small and completely at his mercy.

You want Morpheus so badly it makes your head spin and your core ache, like you can’t feel whole until he’s inside of you, reminding you that you belong to him.

The rough pad of his thumb traces around your swollen clit that’s practically begging for his attention. He ignores your needy whines to rub his thumb between your folds and Dream groans in satisfaction when you coat half his hand in a rush of sticky nectar. “That’s it, my darling,” He encourages, swiping his digits across your messy hole one more time so he can watch you drip for him.

Your hips rise, chasing his fingers, but he cruelly withdraws them. His eyes darken and his pretty mouth draws into a thin smirk when he hears your high-pitched cries from the back of your throat. Just when you’re about to go insane and do something drastic, like rubbing your clit yourself which would absolutely piss him off, he finally, finally gives you what you need.

His plush lips kiss your clit first and you cry out, your back sharply arching from that alone. You’re so wound up that after all the teasing, it’s almost too much.

Dream blows a stream of cold air at your sensitive cunt, making you squirm. He starts to lap up the slick trickling out of your pussy before moving to your dripping folds, parting them with the tip of his tongue so he can taste you straight from the source.

When he sucks your clit into his mouth, your eyes roll back in your head as your whole world collapses down to Morpheus and the delicious, hot pressure building deep in your pussy.

He does it again, his gaze locked on your flushed face, wracked with pleasure. This time he moans with you and the sound vibrates through your cunt. Your hand darts to his head, gripping his hair as you grind your pussy against his mouth. Sloppy, soaked noises fill the air as he fucks you with his tongue, sliding it in as deep as it can go inside your clenching core.

Morpheus focuses his attention back on your bundle of nerves, playing with your clit, teasing it, and each stroke of his tongue drives you closer to the edge you didn’t know you were approaching. Your eyelids flutter and you gasp, choke, far too dizzy to breathe properly.

It’s not supposed to happen this quickly , you think deliriously as you tug his face closer and closer to your pussy. You’ve always needed more than this to orgasm and here you are, seconds away from cumming your brains out from Morpheus’s mouth alone.

As if he can read your mind, his thumb replaces his tongue on your swollen pearl, rubbing so firmly that your thighs quake with each pass. You squeal and shake your head, trying to make it stop, you’re not ready, you can’t come so soon-

Just when you’re close to holding your orgasm back, Morpheus bites your thigh, teeth pricking your delicate skin. The sudden, bright burst of pain rips past your feeble resistance and you come with a wail, burning with some of the sharpest, strongest pleasure you’ve ever felt in your life. Each shockwave makes the next more intense and you gush all over his hand, and then his face when he thrusts his tongue back inside of your clenching, spasming cunt.

At last, the euphoria trickles off now that Dream has removed his fingers, letting you catch your breath as your puffy clit twitches with aftershocks.

You prop yourself up by your elbows to stare at him and his glistening mouth, your come dripping down his sharp jawline. “What the hell,” You huff, sweat beading on your skin like you just ran a sprint.

Morpheus clearly could not be more pleased; the corner of his mouth turns up in self-satisfaction, “I know I’m good, but that was all you, darling,” He purrs in his deep British accent while raising one of his dark eyebrows.

You collapse onto the bed, your vision a little fuzzy around the perimeter, and let out a quiet, exhausted groan. He hums gently, clicks his tongue, and runs his hands soothingly along your legs, massaging the knot in one of your calves from coming too hard, too quickly.

Yet- yet your nipples are still hard and pebbled, and the more Morpheus works the tension out of your taught muscles, his handsome face brimming with dark desire, the more you feel yourself craving another orgasm like a fucking addict. “God, it’s this fucking pregnancy,” You mutter, turning your chin away in embarrassment while you hold back a sweet sigh as he works on your other calf.

You thought Dream might laugh. His hands stop, resting for a moment on your leg. When you glance up, his lips part silently as he exhales, long and drawn out. He’s frenzied, deep inside, you can see it in his face, like you’re a meal placed out of reach and he’s utterly starved.

“Oh?” He queries smoothly. Dream moves his hands again, this time down the backs of your thighs, his fingers wandering ever closer to your core.  “Has carrying my child made you more needy?” He moves to pinch your nipples, rolling one between his fingertips. “More sensitive?” Just like that, whatever he says fades away in a haze of warm, wonderful sensation.

Something brushes your overstimulated clit. His other hand works at your hole, stroking you, at times teasing your tight entrance with his fingers. You make a breathless noise, a soft sound full of want, before tugging him up for another kiss.

You can taste yourself on his tongue and you kiss him again harder with your mouth open, caressing his bottom lip with your tongue as your combined saliva drips from where your lips meet his.

“It’s all your fault,” You accuse between heated kisses, raking your nails across his scalp in punishment. Morpheus gasps, slips one arm around your waist and drags you closer, practically lifting you off the bed. “Gonna do something about it?”

The only warning you get is his grip shifting and the bruises his fingers leave as they dig into your body.

You fall back with a shocked oomph as he releases you. You prop yourself up, intending to scold him, until you realize he’s hovering inches from your core, his hands trembling on your thighs from the effort of holding himself back.

Your walls are still plenty soaked from your last orgasm, so Dream slips two long fingers knuckle-deep inside you without any resistance. “Good girl,” He praises as you shudder, easily giving in without any token defiance. His thumb finds your bundle of nerves and plays with it until you’re clenching around his digits like a whore.

There’s no reason for Morpheus to pin you in place anymore; you hold your knees up yourself and arch towards him, slutty, fucked-out noises fluttering in your throat. “Please,” you whisper under your breath, praying to the god stretching out your tight pussy, curling his fingers inside to lightly stroke the spot deep inside that makes you cream.

His fingers move in a slow, steady rhythm, mindful not to pinch or cause you discomfort. Morpheus wants you to surrender to him, to lose yourself to pleasure he’s coaxing from your body until you’re begging for release.

You let go of your legs and hold yourself up so you can ride his hand. You take his fingers almost to the hilt and grind your buzzing clit on his palm. His other hand swiftly grabs your tangled hair, propping your head up to make you watch how your cunt sucks him in and clings to his fingers whenever he withdraws.

He waits until your eyes roll back, an exquisite fucked-out look on your face, to ask again. “Marry me,” Dream growls, pressing ruthlessly on your pearl when you take too long to answer.

You’re trying your best to do what he wants, to answer, to be a good girl, but it’s so, so hard when he distracts you with a third finger in your twitchy pussy. “I…”

Morpheus tips your heated forehead against his own. “Look at me,” he commands, smiling when he sees you fight yourself to obey, incapable of using your mouth for anything except moaning louder. It feels like you’re burning in your skin and the rubber band in your tummy tightens as his thrusts pick up force.

You struggle to keep up, your tits bouncing and your body shaking like a leaf in the wind. “Morpheus,” You choke out, your hands clutching the shreds of your ruined dress, the bed spread, anything to ground you.

He kisses the side of your face. “Are you paying attention? Hm?” Morpheus asks, nibbling on your earlobe. The sick squelches his fingers make between your sore thighs answer him. “No, you aren’t.” The disappointment in his voice breaks through the fog blanketing you, and you glance at him with wide, teary eyes. His smirk widens.

Your kiss-bruised lips move as you try to talk, but Dream crooks his fingers, repeatedly brushing that patch of nerves, stealing your breath before you can use it. “Come on, look at me,” he taunts, dangling your sanity in front of you, only to rip it away again by stroking your clit at the same time.

Your hands claw his shoulders, down his back, leaving long golden scratches on his pale skin. “Not… fair…” You breathe weakly.

His lips wander along the pulse throbbing in the side of your neck, tonguing your skin dewy with salt. “Answer me. Don’t you want to be my queen?” 

His queen…

Your body reacts for you; your sloppy cunt clenches his fingers so hard that he stops moving for a second and moans along with you. He focuses on teasing and tormenting your clit until your muscles loosen their vice-like grip.

His fingers set a fast, furious pace, driving into you over and over, your juices making a mess of the ruined silk dress under your ass.

You bury your face into the side of his neck, trying to hide from the overwhelming sensations. “Morpheus… please, please…” You chant. A sharp feeling twists deep in your stomach, tightening, so strong that you can feel it in your toes. Your legs tremble, fighting against the wave building and building in your core.

Your poor, hypersensitive clit throbs under his rough touch. “Shall I ask again?” You’re so close, Dream can feel it, hear it in your strung-out cries. If you could breathe, you’d beg, but he enjoys you more in this state of agony, teetering on the edge of your orgasm.

You blink up at him with round, overwhelmed eyes, cheeks flushed bright red. Adoration laces Dream’s every word, each syllable a love letter to you. “Marry me. Be my wife,” He whispers, practically fucking begging.

“Yes-“ You whimper as his beautiful voice shoves you under the waves, drowning you in an ocean of euphoria. Your pussy seizes up as you come, tensing violently, and your thighs shake uncontrollably. You want to scream so badly but you can’t, you don’t have the oxygen for it.

Morpheus curses under his breath, scatters kiss after kiss across your face, screwed up in pleasure. “That’s it,” He encourages, fucking you faster, past the point of overstimulation.

One of your hands grips his wrist, all slippery with your come, unable to choose between batting him away or tugging him deeper. “Squeeze my fingers. That’s it, take what you need.” He bites your throat and kisses the teeth marks, biting again, sucking so hard your skin bruises, forcing you through sensation after sensation to keep you coming.

“Morpheus,” You wail as that viciously tense knot snaps. You collapse, floaty and dumb to the world, and your pulse rushes in your ears like a rainstorm. He withdraws his slippery fingers, mindful not to aggravate your swollen folds.

Morpheus stands, turning away. Without him, the air chills and you shiver, curling up on your side. You feel so alone and you shut your eyes tight to the painful instinct that if he’s not touching you, he’s not there.

He mutters something you distantly register, what sounds a lot like “Fuck it,” before the ever-present clink of armor disappears.

The bed shifts as Morpheus climbs behind you and takes you in his lean, muscled arms. The instant your back touches his bare chest, you shift closer and sigh in relief. That’s what you needed most; his skin on yours 

The universe has righted itself. You’re going to be okay. Morpheus is here.

And he’s not letting go. You clutch his wiry bicep, whimpering when he doesn’t wrap his arm around your belly fast enough for you. His tiny kisses dapple your sweaty face and everything smells like him, like warm, rich wood and crisp snow.

Dream guides your head up so he can slide his other arm underneath you, giving you a warm, comfortable place to rest.

He buries his face in your neck, tangling his legs with yours. His chest rapidly rises and falls like he’s on the verge of hyperventilating. Him, Dream of the Endless.

Morpheus needs this as much as you do, maybe more. Every second with you is a second he believed he would never have. He clutches you tighter against his chest like a dragon hiding his precious hoard from the rest of the world, like a thief who stole through time, searched every possible future, and somehow fell into the one universe where he keeps you.

As soon as you feel his shaky breaths puffing across your heated skin, you turn over as deftly as you can with your pregnant belly. When you brush the dark hair out of his face, you see his eyes watering. “I’m here,” you whisper, tracing his prominent cheekbones and arched nose with your fingertips. “I chose you.” His eyes blink shut as he leans into your touch. 

“Why?” Morpheus asks in a quiet, hesitant voice. “Why would you do that? I’m everything you accused me of. Everything everyone has said about me. Worse, perhaps.” Tears weigh down his long, delicate eyelashes. You caress his cheek, wiping the moisture away, and he kisses your palm in apology for being what he is.

Somehow, you have to try to make him understand. “You are.” There’s no escaping that fact and pretending like it’s false would hurt him more in the end. “But you’re like us mortals. You’re not frozen in place until the end of time.” He gazes at you in odd wonder. “You can grow, you can change. You always could.”

Now that you’ve cracked the ice cold, marble shell that Morpheus has worn with pride for thousands of years, he’s so heartbreakingly vulnerable and frightened of it, like a dark, creeping thing scared of the sun.

As if your focus hurts him to bear, he hides once more in your shoulder. “No one has ever believed in me,” He confesses after a long silence.

You lovingly pet the spikes of his hair, smoothing out the mussed strands until they shine like raven feathers. “If you could go back in time and have one more chance with Orpheus, would you do anything differently?”

Although he hasn’t realized it yet, you see the truth of him. You can only lead him to it and hope he forgives himself, because that’s the one burden you can’t bear on his behalf.

He props himself up to raise an eyebrow, unsure where you’re going with this. “One more chance… it’s not possible. You know that,” Morpheus dismisses outright, like it’s absurd you’d ask.

You poke him gently in the shoulder. “I’m not talking about what’s possible. What would you dream of, Dream of the Endless?”

You wait patiently as Morpheus turns the question over and over in his mind. Emotions flicker in him like fireflies, light and dark.

“I’d take my son’s hand and walk with him.”

It’s your turn to weep. You can’t physically contain all the love you hold for him in your body; you don’t have enough space in your bones because that’s all already his, and you lost your heart to Morpheus the night you met, so it overflows out of you in sobs. 

Your lips brush the long, thin scratch down his cheekbone, the blow he allowed Johanna Constantine to land. “You showed me you could love. That’s why I forgave you.” You kiss the scabbed-over cut one more time before you reach for his mouth, meeting him in a sweet, affectionate kiss.

After discovering his identity, after all that happened between the two of you, you also feared you’d never get another moment like this, that you could only love people who were destined to hurt you.

But you believe that he’ll never do that to you again. You really do, like you believe in the sunrise and the warmth of spring melting winter. “One day… I’ll have to leave eventually,” you begin, snuggling deeper into his protective embrace.

Morpheus grabs your wrist, his eyes wilder than blue flame. “No, you can’t.” He takes your face in both hands. “You won’t.” His voice holds an odd promise, a slight tone that sends a chill down your spine.

He’s shaking.

Dream wraps himself completely around you, tucking your shoulders under his protective ones, before resting his chin on the top of your head, like he’s trying to conceal you from Death herself.

“Hey, no, don’t do that.” You slowly unpick his arms from around your body. “Listen to me,” You say soothingly, trying to capture his gaze and bring him back to you so he’s not lost in the shadowy labyrinth of his immortal mind. 

“One day, I’ll go. I don’t have a choice. But as long as I live, you’ll have me and our baby. If you want us.” It’s the only promise you can make and one that you mean every word of.

Morpheus wants more than that, of course. In the silence that stretches between you like a frozen lake, you fear that he’ll decide to demand lies to soothe his fears, rather than accepting a truth he hates.

Instead of fighting you on it, he simply nods and coaxes you into turning on your side to be the little spoon again.

You wait and let his fingers wander the baby hairs curling around your face. Whatever Dream wants to say, he’s building up the courage for it.

He skims the tan on your cheeks from spending too much time in the sun, and the wrinkles at the corner of your eyes earned by laughing too hard. Even the faint dark spots dotting your jaw, marks from breakouts past, fail to escape his curious, yet loving attention.

When Morpheus reaches the faint scar on your forehead that you got from running into a door when you were five, he bestows a kiss there to make it feel better nearly two decades too late.

Your answering smile, radiant enough to light up a galaxy, thrills him, and like a flower blooming in the snow, his cheeks stain the faintest shade of pink. 

“I’ve spent an eternity dreaming of you, waiting for you,” He murmurs, his voice low and musical. Morpheus leans down to kiss the very tip of your nose. “For as many eternities as I have left. That’s how long I’ll want you.”

His hand strokes your shoulder in languid circles. As he makes his way down your arm, goosebumps prickle in his wake.

He’s watching you from the corner of his eye, waiting for your reaction. Your breathing deepens. Morpheus grows bolder; the backs of his fingers caress your tits in a way that could be accidental, if you wished it.

Dream has been good to you, and he’s so ethereally beautiful that sometimes, it hurts to look straight at him.

Only someone made out of much sterner stuff than you could resist him. You’re only human, after all.

His lips taste headier than wine. You want to drown in him, spend an entire day in this bed making out with him like teenagers. Despite the soreness between your legs, your core throbs with a different ache, one you need Morpheus to relieve.

Something long and stiff pokes you as he starts rutting his hips against your round ass and panting quietly in your ear. Dizzily, you wonder if he came in his armor earlier, or if he’s been edging himself the whole time he was on his knees driving you to orgasm after orgasm.

Judging by the fact that he’s rock fucking hard, it’s easy to guess what happened.

Your pussy reacts to the thought of him desperately grinding against his plate armor while imagining how tight you’d be around his cock; a fresh wave of arousal drips from your swollen folds and you surrender to it.

You nudge his hand to rest on the base of your throat, getting it out of the way so you can take his shaft in your palm. A choked, muffled groan echoes from the god behind you and he grips your throat properly, steadying himself to better thrust into your hand.

“Wanna- wanna help you…” You mumble, your heartbeat speeding up to match the rhythm of his hitched, stuttering gasps.

His girth hardens further, twitching in your grasp. “My darling girl, so kind and thoughtful.” Morpheus tugs your head back by your hair so he can see how eager you are to please. “Are you going to let me into your sweet cunt? Make me feel better?”

He relinquishes your throat so he can hook his thumb between your teeth and hold your mouth open.

Your tongue flirtatiously drags along the digit in your mouth, gathering the taste of your cunt from his fingers.

When you blink up at him with round, glistening eyes, so eager to please that you suck his finger heedless of the saliva trickling from your stretched lips, he can’t help but kiss you. His tongue battles yours, ravenous, while he continues holding your jaw in place.

Each time his grip on your hair tightens, your stiff, swollen clit aches, begging for him. “Anything you want, Morpheus.” The words are garbled, moaned out around his thumb, but the musky scent of your dribbling core makes your meaning clear.

His teeth nibble your earlobe. “Your king,” He hisses as he moves to clasp your face in his hand, his spit-soaked thumb digging into the soft flesh of your cheek.

Morpheus holds you down like that, just one hand spanning your jaw. He doesn’t need anything else to make you submit; he’s not asking, he’s taking what you want to give him. “My king…” You stroke his cock faster, running your fingertips over the sensitive spot on the underside of his tip.

His hips roughly buck forward. “Fuck, I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” He mutters more to himself than to you as he manhandles you into the position he wants you in; on your side, your back flush to his chest and your leg bent towards your torso as high as it can go.

Dream kisses up and down the column of your neck and his hand wanders from your knee down to your thigh, relishing in the feel of your soft skin and jiggling flesh just begging to be spanked. “Put the ring on.” His coarse, gravelly voice wakes you from the stupor caused by his warm touch brushing ever closer to your folds.

“What?” You ask faintly, casting your bleary eyes around the bed. “Where…” Morpheus delivers a sharp, crisp smack to your plush thigh in punishment, his cock hardening behind you as he watches your ass jiggle.

The little velvet box appears in front of you, just within reach.

“Put it on.” You squirm as he nudges the blunt head of his shaft along the seam of your cunt, covering himself in your juices. “I want to see how my ring looks on your finger while I fuck you.” He does it again, making sure to tease your humming clit with his cock.

Your fingers pry the box open, revealing the most beautiful, yet simple engagement ring you’ve ever seen. There’s no monstrous diamond the size of your thumbnail or excessive clusters of rubies and sapphires.

The thin band is forged of the deepest, richest yellow gold there is, carved with intricate snake scales. Where the tail of the snake meets its mouth sits a brilliant, faceted teardrop emerald. The dark, verdant gemstone glimmers with its own light, like Morpheus has caught the vibrancy of spring’s first bloom and formed it into an emerald just for you. A thin row of tiny diamonds, more specks of moonlight than individual gems, wraps around the emerald.

An ouroboros ring. A pledge of unending love to you, for every eternity he has left.

It fits perfectly on your ring finger, like it was meant to be. “I love you, Morpheus,” You confess, twisting over your shoulder for a second so you can kiss him breathless, pouring your feelings and devotion into it.

When you break apart, he leans down to brush his lips on the back of your hand, inches from where the ring sits.

As if you needed another reminder of how much he adores you, his hips grind his cock against your thighs. “Seeing the ring on you now…” He’s so desperate to fuck you that he just can’t help himself. “I fear I won’t last, my queen,” Morpheus admits, resting his cheek on your shoulder in apology.

You cradle his angular face in your palm. “Take me, Morpheus.” You’re so exhausted that you’re unsure whether you’ve got another orgasm left in you, though you won’t be surprised if he surpasses expectations like always. “Use me. I want you to.”

Morpheus has waited so long to come, saving it all for you, and you want to feel him inside, so deep that if you weren’t already pregnant, you’d make another baby.

With one last kiss on your shoulder, he presses his cock into your tight cunt. Even after a few of his fingers, the stretch borders on unbearable. He thrusts a little further, restraining himself with his teeth gritted so you can adjust. 

He loses his patience when he’s over halfway buried in your cunt. He grips your knee, holding it up for you so all you have to do is lay there and take it. Your juices gush around his cock as he slides home. “Oh-“

Your hips move of their own accord, circling around the dick that’s splitting you open.

“Mmm, that’s it,” He moans, cursing quietly when your muscles flutter. “You take me so well.” He licks a hot stripe up the nape of your neck, his thrusts slowly picking up the pace.

“Morpheus…” You gasp, your body shaking as he pounds into you.

Maybe it’s the new position or the pregnancy, but Morpheus fucking you feels so different, better even. All the colors are brighter, the sensations bigger. When he slides all the way into you, searing pleasure erupts at the bottom of your tummy.

A glint of soft green draws your attention away from the sounds your pussy makes trying to take his thick shaft. “You see that ring?” Deep thrusts accompany each word, tapping the sensitive spot that makes you wail. “That’s mine.” His free hand fists in your hair and forces you to stare at your engagement ring, shining on your hand.

“You’re mine,” Morpheus snarls.

Your cunt tightens around him so abruptly that he has to stop fucking you and let your muscles try to suck him in further. 

Your soft whimpers build into wails when he shoves into your quivering hole again. “I-I’m yours,” You hiccup, your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Please, Morpheus… fuck, feels so good…” He tugs on your head at the same time as his cock fills you, and you swear you can feel him reaching the back of your throat.

Your poor, untouched clit throbs at the slightest touch of the breeze.

Morpheus notices, of course, and swiftly shifts your curvy thigh up so his fingers can torment your button. “Yeah? Am I pleasing my queen?” You squeal, twist and writhe on his hard cock, almost trying to fight how good it is.

His hips snap furiously into your plush ass. “Fuck, you’re gripping me so tight I can barely move-“ You’re so wet, dripping all the way down to the bed, that his fingers slip off your sore clit.

Morpheus grits his teeth and tightens his hold on your leg so you can’t shy away. “That’s it, sweet girl. Make me come.” You’re burning up with pleasure, roiling in your muscles like a thunderstorm; the air is hot and heavy, filled with slick, slapping sounds.

He leaves your puffy clit be for a moment, instead lavishing your flushed cheek with kisses. “I can’t- it’s too much…” You breathe, the words weak and hoarse, arching your back to meet each of his desperate thrusts.

“It’s not too much, you can take it. I know you can.” Though you shake your head no, your thighs tremble as his fast, punishing pace drives you to the brink.

He feels how close you are to breaking and it spurs him on. “Come with me, my queen, please,” Dream of the Endless begs in your ear, panting and huffing as he holds his own peak back. “I need it, need you milking me. Can’t come without you.”

Morpheus moans your name in his deep, raspy voice. That’s all that was missing, hearing how much he wants you, how he says your name like a hymn, nothing but a worshipper desperate for salvation.

When you come, time stops. Your lungs seize, every nerve crackling with electricity. It’s perfect, unending agony, your core clamping down on his girth and your soft frame shuddering. You can’t speak or think, completely fucked mindless, your face contorted in pleasure.

Your peak drags him with you into ecstasy. Morpheus sinks his teeth in the crook of your neck as he drives into you one last time, filling your clingy, orgasming cunt with his sticky, white cum. You quiver on his girth, whimpering at the soothing warmth coating your walls.

Like a puppet with cut strings, your exhausted frame collapses, still jerking with aftershocks. Behind you, Morpheus falls back, panting hard. Then he helps you turn over, kissing away your murmur of protest when he pulls out of your sore, spent folds, and neatly folds you into his strong chest, your cheek resting over his rapidly-beating heart.

Sleep beckons to you, creeping around the borders of your vision. You keep trying to hold your eyes open, but you’re too tired to shake yourself conscious.

The last thing you remember is his hand stroking up and down your sweaty back and a gentle, whispered “I love you.”

I hope y'all liked this one hehehe, please feel free to like+ reblog and leave a reply/send me an ask letting me know what you think! And of course follow for updates. The love shown for last chapter really drove me to get this up for y'all, so every bit of support, every like, reblog, reply, and ask, it all means the world to me. Thank you <3

A couple footnotes:

- Engagement/wedding rings were discovered to have existed as far back as Ancient Egypt, where the preferred rings was an ouroboros, signaling eternity.

- Of the many jewels Sultan Suleiman of the Ottoman Empire gave to his wife, Hurrem Sultan, the most famous was a massive teardrop emerald ring with a gold band. Shout out to anyone who loves the Turkish drama Magnificent Century, I basically combined Hurrem's ring with an Ancient Egyptian ouroboros band. And yes, the emerald's got a little magic in it.