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starlitmark · 3 months

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Summary: Both being in the NSFW content creation sphere, you and Yunho find a mutually beneficial piece of content to film. Pairing: NSFW Audio Creator!Yunho x Only Fans Creator!reader Tropes: Adult Content creator au, friends with benefits au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, the reader is smaller than Yunho by a good amount Smut Warnings: recorded sex, blindfolding, auralism, protected sex, implications of a hand kink, use of the name “daddy”, pet names, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, ripping clothing Word Count: 2,416 Host Tag: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye February Filth Masterlist Before You Interact

Listen to ♡ Often by The Weekend

“You’re sure you’re not going to get kidnapped?” Yeri checks for the tenth time.

“I’m sure!” You laugh, “This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve talked with him before, too, several times. You know Yunho and I are friends.”

Yeri’s jaw falls to the floor. You meet her eyes through your mirror after you finish fixing your makeup. You look at her as if you’ve just said the most mundane sentence in the world. On the other hand, she looks as if you just told her you’re not actually who you told her you are.

“You mean to tell me–”

“I haven’t fucked him. Not in the literal sense, at least.” You explain, “We’ve fucked around in DMs before a few times but nothing in person yet. We’re genuinely friends, too, it’s not just about our jobs. He’s seen me. I’ve seen him. We’re both being safe. Now go back to your own apartment unless you want to witness something you probably don’t want to.”

She shakes her head and scrunches her nose. You laugh at her action and start walking her toward your front door. You start to pull your door open to let her out when she starts to sound like a broken record.

“Seriously, if you think he might–”

She’s cut off by someone clearing their throat. She turns around, and you look up. He’s right in the doorway, looking devastatingly handsome. Yeri buttons her lip and slips past him. You bid her goodbye as she’s already halfway to the elevator.

“Come on in.” You smile at the tall man, moving to let him in.

“It’s nice to see you in person finally.” He smiles

You nod, mouth suddenly dry, “I hope it wasn’t too bad of a trip here.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “It was actually really nice. It’s beautiful out.”

You’ve been friends online for a while now, and this sudden awkward tension is almost suffocating. Yunho smiles at you and takes your hand in his. You look at your connected hands before looking back up to his face. You’ve seen him before in pictures you exchanged in the past. Some of them are more distracting than others. Seeing him in person seems to create a whole new level of devastation for your panties and your heart at the same time.

He drops your hand and leans against a bookshelf at the edge of your entryway. He’s nearly the same height as it. You need a stool to reach the top shelf of it. Now you take in just how tall he is. You knew he was tall. Knowing a fact versus seeing it is so different. You already know his cock is big too. You’ve been blessed to see it several times. Your mind starts to wander to your activities planned for the afternoon.

“You okay?” Yunho’s eyes fill with concern, “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. We can just hang out.”

“No, no,” you chuckle, “I just forgot how… big you are…” You admit.

Yunho smirks as he leans over you while leaning against the bookshelves. You gulp at the sight.

“Did you, sweetheart?”

Fuck.

Your mouth goes dry again, trying to find a proper response. You knew damn well what the plan was walking into today. Both of you had planned out the entire scene in depth to ensure safety and quality content for your followers. Hearing his voice, seeing that stupidly hot smirk, everything about him renders you speechless.

“Sweetheart?” He calls again, “You still with me?”

You nod, “Just… thinking…”

“About?” He leans in close enough that you can feel his breath against your lips.

“We have a bit of content to film, and–” You stop yourself and stare at his lips for a moment.

“And?” He questions.

Your gaze stays fixated on his lips, “And… I fucking need you right now.”

Yunho doesn’t waste a moment closing the gap between you. The way he pulls you tight against him, combined with the heat of the kiss, makes your knees buckle. You stand there for a while, just kissing him. Your neck hurts a bit from stretching up to reach him, though you’re sure he is hurting more from craning down. By the time you pull away, your lips are puffy and wet with spit. His aren’t in much better condition; he has a bit of your lipgloss smeared near his own lips.

“Is your camera all set up?” He asks, his voice slightly raspier than earlier.

“Mm,” you hum, “You’re okay with your face being on camera?”

“We already talked about that.” He reminds you, “It’s okay. My face isn’t fully a secret to my audience.”

You take his hand in yours again and guide him toward your room. As you had told him before, your camera is already set up in front of your bed. You reach over and press record before you even say another word to him. As much as you’d love to get wrecked by him now, you know the goal is to get content. Your high-quality microphone is already connected and tested to ensure it gets the best recording it can. After all, it’s not just being uploaded to your Only Fans. The audio from today is being edited and uploaded to Yunho’s NSFW audio subscription as well. Short free clips are going to be posted on both of your Twitter accounts in addition to helping with the traction. Before you get in the view of the camera, you slip your shorts off from under your oversized T-shirt. Per the agreed-upon scene, you’re playing the role of his pretty little stay-at-home girlfriend and won’t be needing pants if you’re at home all day.

“You ready, princess?”

You know he’s put on his acting, but he still searches for any uncertainty in your eyes.

“I’m ready, Daddy.” you respond, voice sweet and needy.

Despite neither of you truly having a daddy kink, you both agreed to that title for Yunho to both protect his identity and play into the content you both know people want. You sit on the side of your bed and look up at him with wide, faux-innocent eyes. Yunho hums and leans down to cage you against the bed. One hand slips back a bit to grab a silk tie just behind you. He pulls it off of the bed and leans back a bit to hold it between you.

“We’re gonna play a little game, okay?”

You nod, “Will I get to feel you?”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’ll feel me. You just won’t see a damn thing.”

Yunho leans forward again and kisses you sloppily. The wet sounds of your kiss are enough to make you rub your thighs together. He, of course, notices it and grips your thigh with his other hand. Massaging the flesh, he pushes your oversized shirt up to expose your soaked panties. He guides you back further until you’re nearly laid down. He drops the tie just long enough to pull the shirt off of your body. You’re only left in your panties while he’s fully clothed. That doesn’t last long, though. He pulls his own shirt off. You appreciate his toned body and end up fixated on the noticeable bulge under his sweats. You gulp before meeting his eyes again.

“Can’t I suck you off for a bit? I wanna be a good girl for you.”

Yunho gives you an endearing smile, holding your chin in his hand, “That’s so sweet of you, baby. As much as Daddy would love that, I have other plans for us today. I’m gonna blindfold you now, okay? You know our cues.”

“Colors, if I can speak. If not, two taps for a break and three for a full stop.”

He kisses you again, “That’s my girl.”

It’s for the camera, you know that. Still, it doesn’t stop you from nearly melting at the praise. He takes the black silk tie and carefully secures it around your head, checking to make sure it’s not too loose or tight. You feel him guide you to lie down on your bed and push your thighs apart to be flat across the bed as well. Every sound sounds so vivid. The soft sound of his hands moving across the bedding, the gentle sounds of his breath by your ear, even the light creaking of your bed as he puts his full body weight on it. A gasp escapes your lips as he leaves more wet kisses along your throat. The noises he makes as he kisses you while letting his hands wander are enough to make your panties even more soaked than they previously were.

“You’re so jumpy, baby.” He chuckles, “Relax, let me make you feel good.”

“Daddy,” you whine, bucking your hips when his hand trails along your inner thigh.

“Yes, princess?”

You gasp when his kisses reach your chest, “Need–”

You let out a broken whine when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples. His fingers lightly trail up and down your thighs, intentionally skipping over the place you need him most. Each time you buck your hips toward his touch, he lightly nips at your chest. The lack of vision only heightens your other senses more. Each time he so much as grazes your body, you jolt in reaction. Each word he says and each noise he makes sends you into another plane of existence.

You feel his body pull away from you, leaving behind a waft of his addictive scent. You feel as he pulls your panties to the side and strokes through your folds. The squelching sounds that come from your lower lips are loud. Each rub against your clit, each time his pretty, long fingers push into you, you feel yourself crave him more. He fucks you on his fingers for a while. His thumb presses perfectly against your clit while two of his other fingers thrust in and out of you at a pace that makes you see stars. His unoccupied hand holds one of your thighs down. His fingers dig into your skin in a way that may leave bruises, not that you mind at all.

“You hear that, sweetheart? You’re so fucking wet. What’s got you such a wreck? Hmm?”

“Daddy, I– fuck! Everything, it’s everything!”

“Everything? It’s how you keep whining and moaning while I finger your pretty little pussy, the way I’m speaking to you, the fact that you can’t see a damn thing. You’re at my mercy, sweetheart.”

You want to close your thighs so badly due to the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. A light slap on your thigh stops your action. A moment later, Yunho pulls his fingers from inside you, and you feel his weight lift off of the bed. The sound of foil ripping fills the space, followed by a low, growly groan. Though you can’t see it, you know Yunho kept his promise to put a condom on.

“Daddy,” your voice wavers with uncertainty.

You feel his hand rest against your waist, “It’s okay, princess. Daddy didn’t leave you all alone. I’m right here.”

The small gesture of reassurance makes your heart flutter for a brief moment. You feel the bed sink again and feel his bare skin against yours. He places a sweet kiss against your lips and whispers a quick check-in.

“You want Daddy to fuck you now?”

“Please, want Daddy’s cock, please.” You whine.

You feel the head of his cock rubs through your folds a few times before pushing in. Your panties are still pushed to the side, though they aren’t terribly in the way. Yunho continues to shower you with filthy comments and praises. Your hands fly forward and feel their way to his hair. Pulling him forward more, you pull him into another sloppy kiss. His thrusts are loud, and the squelching sound of your pussy is louder than it was with just his fingers. Your moans are muffled slightly by his kisses, but still, they’re loud. The fact that you can’t see anything makes it hard to know exactly what is happening.

“Wanna see you.” You request.

“My princess wants to see me now? I thought you liked not knowing what’s coming.” He teases.

“I- I do, but I wanna see Daddy now. Please?”

Yunho gives a particularly punctuated thrust, “Alright, princess, pick up your head a little, and I’ll take it off.”

You do as he says, and light floods your field of view a split second later. It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the light. Once they do, you’re met with the sight of Yunho above you, sat up straight on his knees as he thrusts into you. He has a heated, lust-driven look in his eyes that brings you closer to your orgasm.

“Are you attached to these panties, baby?”

You shake your head at his question. A moment later, the telltale sign of clothing ripping fills the room. You break eye contact for a moment to see that he ripped the seat of your panties and was seconds away from ripping the waistband, too. Yunho smirked at you and leaned in close to your ear.

“I’ll buy you a new pair later, or I’ll pay for you to get some new ones.”

“Daddy, wanna– gonna–”

You’re not on Earth anymore. Your mind is so far gone, lost in the obsession you’ve discovered you have with his voice and the filthy, debauched noises being created in the space. In all honesty, you didn’t even process what he just said to you. All you can think about is the fact that you’re mere moments from your orgasm.

“Pretty baby wants to cum?” He asks, gripping onto your now bare hips.

“Please,” small tears form in your eyes, “Please, please!”

Yunho smirks at you again, “Cum.”

Your orgasm rips through you, stronger than anything you’ve ever felt before. Yunho’s thrusts grow stronger and faster. As you ride out your high, he reaches his own. He releases his load into the condom with a loud groan. His eyebrows furrowed together while his eyes remain locked on your own. You both start to fall from cloud nine around the same moment. Yunho leans down to hover above you and places a small kiss against your collarbone.

“You did such a good job, pretty girl. I’m so proud of you.”

That last comment wasn’t for the camera. That was specifically for you.

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @bratty-tingz @yeosangiess @minjaeluver @abbietwilight @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

#yunho smut #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #joongfryefff24 #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #yunho fanfic #yunho x reader

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totallynotcoffeeturtle · 24 days

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Crochet and Coquette ♡

Masterlist

(From the 6th to 30th April, I am having a mini 100 follower milestone event!)

Tags: fluff Summary: You like to crochet and he (kinda) likes you crocheting

♡ Wanderer doesn’t mind you and your newest hobby, contrary to how he acts. In fact, even if he doesn’t say it out loud, he adores the way you light up whenever you finish a part of whatever you are making.

♡ When you can’t pay as much attention to him because “it’s almost done” and you “don’t want to forget the pattern”, Wanderer is understanding. Very much so. He is totally not staring at you from the opposite side of the room whatsoever.

♡ Wanderer supports you in smaller ways, asking more about crocheting and even tries his hand at it (even if he sucked). He also accompanies you if you need him to help you bring things back from a shopping trip.

♡ One good thing he can name in particular, is that he likes the focused look on your face. Isn’t there that saying about how a person looks the most attractive when they work? He somewhat understands why you are so intent on watching him write his theses now.

♡ One not good thing also comes with you crocheting however. You are way too interested in putting your cutesy creations, such as bows and flowers onto Wanderer. His hair, his clothes and even his hat is not safe in your hands.

♡ Once, he decided to get a shuteye in the living room. A bad decision as he would later find out. You took it upon yourself to adorn his hair with all of the bows, mostly pink mind you, you have made before. Wanderer woke up after a while and left for work before you could stop him. His colleagues were all amused. Good for them since he absolutely was not.

♡ Well, nothing you can’t solve with a set of puppy dog eyes or two♡

♡ After that though, Wanderer does make sure to keep his things out of your reach, sometimes including himself if you are wide awake around him and feeling like a menace to society.

(Extra: if you are good enough with words, wanderer may just allow you to put one (1) bow onto his hair and take a picture)

A/N: almost wrote this as croquette and coquette...

#genshin x reader #genshin #genshin impact #fluff #x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #gender neutral reader #headcanon #scaramouche x you #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #i swear i'm not a scara simp i just write for my bestie #crochet #pink bows #coquette

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olderthannetfic · 3 months

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Genuine question: what's the point of writing fanfic? As in, what's the purpose? No one in the fandom I'm in comments on fics and I even got told off by one person for doing so, as it "encourages bad writers and makes them think they're good". So it seems that it's a lot like book writing, where people work hard and are creative, but instead of getting paid and getting comments on the work, you just sit there silently hoping someone will press the kudos button and make a number go up. I feel like that time and work could be better spent on making something you might get some kind of profit off of. Don't get me wrong, I love doodling fanart, but I don't post it, as I'm aware that there's no point to doing so, and while it's a nice way to fill the time on a commute, it's not something that takes me as much time and effort as fanfic does. So... why do people bother? Sometimes I describe ideas I have and people I know in my fandom will tell me I should write it, but I don't see why. I get more interaction from just saying "imagine if [thing here]" than I would by sitting down, writing for hours, editing and posting [thing here], so what would the point be? I'm not punching down or going "haha women and their fanfic lol!", I genuinely do not get what the point is and this blog feels like it might have someone reading who knows the answer.

Do you make art for profit? Genuine question.

There's nothing inherently wrong with being motivated primarily by external factors, but it's not actually why a lot of people create things, whether it's books or recipes or doodles in a notepad.

I enjoy the actual process of writing.

I think many people lose sight of that aspect in an era where tons of <500-word fics that are mostly outlines and "Imagine if..." posts get disproportionate attention for being easy to consume. But the satisfaction of doing a bigger art piece and doing it right is real and motivates a hell of a lot of creation.

I suppose you might be thinking "Okay, but why not just write it alone and never post?", but I like sharing. Showing off my finished creation is part of the joy, and sharing with other people like me is too. But those aren't quite the same thing as worrying about kudos. It's like dressing nicely when you leave the house because you feel great when you know you look good vs. needing another person to tell you you look good.

To be honest, though, this type of feeling has grown in me the better I've gotten at a craft. The closer my finished projects get to the vision in my head, the easier it is to find them fulfilling and to be excited to share them. When I fall short of my own ambitions, it's discouraging no matter how much attention I might get from others.

I feel like it's time for my regular reblog of Adam Westbrook's video essay series The Long Game.

vimeo

youtube

The third and least known in the series is all about this idea of who you're making art for if you're not getting material rewards in the short term. It talks a lot about autotelicity—being internally driven instead of externally.

But if you really just want clicks, anon, start a blog that accepts anon asks and posts about wanky stuff. Actually tag things, unlike me, so people can find you.

No, writing for attention isn't worth it.

The time investment is too great and your brain will always fixate on the times people didn't respond instead of the times they did.

But that's not actually why most people write.

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doe-eyed-fool · 1 month

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Secret Love, My Escape

Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader

If nothing else, Lucifer was beyond faithful to his lover. He would do anything for the person he's devoted himself to. He would even risk death, all for the one he loves.

And in turn, his love would do the same...

You knew this was a foolish idea, terrible even. Sneaking out of Heaven to meet with the demons of hell. If you were ever caught, who knows what punishment you would be given? But you didn't care. You weren't just meeting with any demon, but Lucifer himself.

The love of your life.

He knew it wasn't the best idea, it would end so horribly if Heaven ever finds out. But he couldn't help himself. His love for you was far stronger than his worries.

It wasn't bad to worry, far from it in this situation. But, he couldn't let someone as wonderful as you go. He may live on forever, but he could not go an eternity without you.

He would do anything to see you, even if just for a little while.

Even if it happened like this.

This wasn't the first time you two had done this either. You've went down to Hell quite a few times, it was practically routine at this point. And you were excited every time you got to.

You loved Lucifer more than anything. You cherished him, you never wanted to go a moment without him by your side. The time spent apart, was heartbreaking.

You two are from two separate worlds, after all. Heaven frowns upon the demons and sinners in Hell, but for an angel and the king of Hell to be together like this?

You both knew what Heaven's reaction would be. And it wasn't good for either of you...

But you didn't want to think about that. Right now, you just wanted to enjoy Lucifer's company, in the little time you were granted to visit him.

This time, the two of you were having a bit of a lazy day. Normally, Lucifer would try to keep you entertained, while in the privacy of his palace walls, of course. But today, the two of you just lay together in each other's arms.

You both would talk about nothing in particular, though, you always liked hearing about his daughter Charlie and the hotel, as well as her friends, as weird and wild as they could be.

And of course, there was never a day you visited, that Lucifer didn't talk about his latest duck related creations. You didn't mind at all. You loved seeing his face light up with joy and excitement whenever he talked about them.

"So, I was thinking about making a new rubber duck. One that shoots fireworks from like, a little hat on it's head." Lucifer explains. "There have been some previous attempts, each resulting in a few tiny fires, but! I think I'm getting pretty close to perfecting it!"

You giggle. "Well, I'd love to see it once it's finished." Lucifer smiled, though it quickly vanished as he noticed the time. He sighed, you knew what that meant.

"Already?" You mutter. Lucifer nods, frowning. You sit up and breath a sigh of your own. "It seems our visits just go by faster and faster."

"Yeah..." Lucifer sits up as well. You put your hand on his. "I wish there was a way I could just stay here." As much as Lucifer would have liked to have you with him. He could not bare the thought of you having to be in this terrible place. You were better off in Heaven where you belong...

"Come on, let's get you home before the others notice." Lucifer says. You begrudgingly agreed, your chest already aching, and you haven't even left yet.

If only there were some other way...

Heaven was nice. No one could deny that. But to you, it never felt more empty without Lucifer. But that's not all. Heaven was nice. On the surface that is. You knew about what the higher ups were hiding though.

Lucifer had told you about the extermination, and the angels that Adam lead down to Hell, in attempts to destroy his daughter's hotel and kill those who called it home.

Speaking of Adam. He was dead, killed in that attack he lead. And of course, Heaven covered that up as well. So long as the citizens of Heaven were happy and unaware, there would be no chaos. No panic.

No questioning...

You knew better than to try and reveal Heaven's lies. You were only one person, after all. Though, the people of Heaven deserved to know just what kind of "paradise" they were living in.

That would only result in you being placed on trial, and eventually being forced out of Heaven.

However, speaking up would not be what caused for such a thing to happen.

No, unfortunately, you would be placed on trial, for something you'd hope you'd never be accused of.

"Y/n, for your sake, you'd better speak only the truth in this courtroom."

The head seraphim's eyes were cold and unforgiving as she looks down at you. You could only look back at her with panic, and a terrible twisting feeling in your chest.

"Have you been sneaking off down to Hell?" She asks. You open your mouth to speak, but your voice would not find you. Instead, you nod. The seraphim's eyes narrow. "And how exactly have you managed this?"

Still unable to speak, you cast your gaze downward. The seraphim's voice caused you to flinch, as she spoke your name with such venom in her voice.

"Y/n."

You look back up at her, defeated. "Sera. I think you know how..." You say weakly. Sera sighed. "This is entirely unheard of. Lucifer isn't just some ordinary demon. He is the king of of all evil. Risking your place in Heaven for him, is beyond foolish."

Your brows furrow. She speaks of Lucifer like he is some sort of monster. And you will not have it.

"You don't know anything about him." You start. "Not truly. Lucifer may be the king of Hell, but he is nothing like a demon. Deep down, he's still an angel. And you all refuse to see it, all because you do not understand him!"

You were going to be punished anyway. Might as well speak your mind.

"I love him! And I'd rather fall than go an eternity without him, and be stuck here knowing that Heaven is a scam!"

Sera looked at you silently for a moment before turning away. "Then so be it."

Your arms were suddenly being restrained by two exorcist, a third walking up behind you, sword in hand. Then you felt it...

The feeling of your wings being torn from you. You cried in agony, the sound of them falling to the ground with a thud nearly made you sick. Your arms were released, and you began to fall back.

Only you did not hit the floor, instead, you continued to fall and fall for what felt like forever.

Until finally, you collied with solid, hard ground...

When you opened your eyes, pain was the first thing you felt. Your back throbbed and your body ached. But you managed to pick yourself up, just barely keeping yourself standing.

You take a look around, and then up at the blood red sky. Yep, this was definitely Hell. You look back ahead, far in the distance, you could make out a building. Not just any building, a hotel.

You felt a twinge of hope as you start off in that direction. If this was indeed that hotel, you might have a better chance of finding Lucifer than you think.

Lucifer had started spending more time at his daughter's hotel than his own home as of recently. Only being at the palace for when you visited. If you were going to find him anywhere, it'd be there.

You walked for a long while before you finally reached the hotel. Just before the entrance is where you fell to your knees, exhausted. Your body was crying for rest, but your mind was racing. You couldn't give up now. You were so close.

Just as exhaustion started to fully set in, the doors to the hotel opened. And you make out a figure in the door way. Their voice was muffled, but you recognized just who the voice belonged to immediately.

"I'll be back shortly, Charlie! Just have to grab a few more things from home."

You forced yourself to stand, ignoring the new wave of pain and drowsiness that washed over you. Your voice cracked as you called out.

"Lucifer?"

It was indeed Lucifer. He turned his head in your direction, his eyes wide as he noticed it was you. He stood there for a moment, unable to think or speak clearly.

Was his mind playing tricks on him? How were you here? Why were you here?

You smile slightly and take a step forward. "Lucifer...Lucifer!" You cried running towards him with open arms. You stumbled slightly, but Lucifer caught you.

"Y/n...What are you doing here?"

You held onto him tightly, tears forming in your eyes. "I...I just couldn't stay away." You say before pulling away to look up at him. Lucifer stared back at you with concern, but mostly confusion. Just as he went to speak again, you leaned in and met your lips with his.

Lucifer became less tense as he melted into the kiss. He didn't know how this was happening. He was still trying to process you standing in front of him right now.

You pull back, smiling as you look him in the eyes. You move your hand up to his cheek. "I love you."

Lucifer opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as he felt something warm on his palm. He moved his hand off of your back, and his heart dropped at the sight of gold staining his hand.

"Y/n...Don't tell me they..."

You leaned in and rest your head on his chest. "I'm so tired Lucifer...Just, don't let me sleep for too long. Ok?"

"Y/n!?" Lucifer's panic grew as you went limp in his arms. How could he not have noticed right then?

Your wings were missing.

There was no time to ponder it now, he scooped you up into his arms and teleported back to the palace. No one else needed to gaze upon your blood, it would only raise questions and attract unwanted attention.

As soon as you two were behind closed doors, Lucifer stripped away the top of your outfit, grimacing slightly at the sight of the two long tears on your back.

He placed his hands on your back gently and inhaled. A warm glow emanated from his palms that spread throughout your back.

"Come on...Stay with me Y/n." He whispered desperately.

After a few seconds, the glow faded. He moved his hands away, the wound was fully healed. But you were still motionless.

"Y/n, please. Please come back to me." Lucifer holds you close to him, cradling your head with one hand, the other at your waist. "Please...Please don't leave me..."

Lucifer held you for hours after that, refusing to let you go or leave your side for even a second. The only hope he held onto, was the faint breathing that came from you.

He blamed himself for this. He should have just left you alone. He should have never snuck you down here like he did, for as long as he did. He should have just pushed you away.

At least then, you'd be safe.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n." Lucifer said softly. "You were hurt because of me. You fell because of me. And now, you're stuck here. And it's all my fault..."

"I'm such an idiot." Lucifer closed his eyes, tears stinging at his eyes.

"Luci...don't talk so badly about yourself."

Lucifer shot up, looking down at you with wide eyes. "Y/n?" You smile and slowly open your eyes. "Hi."

Lucifer felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. Though, he couldn't stop smiling. He sniffled a few times. "H-Hi!" He chuckles. His laughter was quickly cut short.

"Y/n. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I never meant for you to be damned to his awful place. You should be up in Heaven, in paradise. Not down here with all the evil and scum that Hell has to offer."

"Lucifer." You start. "It's not paradise. Especially not without you. I never would have been happy alone up there. It killed me anytime I had to leave you."

"But now you're stuck here forever." Lucifer says weakly. You kiss his cheek. "We're here together."

Lucifer brought you in a closer embrace. You speak again. "Thank you for healing me, Luci. I'm sorry if I scared you." Lucifer shook his head. "I'm just glad you're alive. But..." Lucifer draws back to look at you. "Are you ok with this?"

"Of course I am. You're here, and now, I'm here. I love you way too much for it to be any other way."

Lucifer smiled and kissed you softy. "I love you too."

The two of you enjoyed each other's embrace that night. Only this time, moments like this would be forever.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer magne #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader

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prettymrswright · 9 months

Text

private project

pairing: shuri x black!fem!scientist reader

content: fluff, smut!(18+), m@sturb@ting, s3x!toy, oral (both receiving), strap, f!ngering, crying, begging, dirty talking, slight humiliation, praising, pillow!princess/bratty reader, soft-dom!shuri, reader is a shy, timid, obedient, madly in love, (DOWN BAD), pillow princess, shuri is an oblivious brainiac.

background: for the couple years you had been working for the scientist, you’ve been crazy about her. you were such a shy and nervous wreck, that you didn’t know what to do about it. in all your desire, you decide to make a personal ‘project’ in the very lab you were taught everything you know, by her. although you intended for it to be forever a secret, it didn’t quite pan out that way. an: wheeeew, baby!! i thought about this this morning, half sleep, and ideas was just flowing, idk why my whore brain was on this morning but let's just roll with it! as usual, i hope this satisfied y'all lul slutty hearts & taglist sign up pinned to my page! @dejaonline @inmyheadimobsessed @vampzxi @venusdraco @shuriszn @shurislover @vixentheplanet @pinkwright @saintwrld @abenomeiiii @ventingfanfics @msplayas @naomis-daydream @sapphicvqmpires @tishsrealwife @6-noir @pocketsizedpanther ꨄ︎

2 years. You had officially been working for the Royal Udaku family for 2 years, and never would it get old for you. Since you were a young girl, you dreamt of making powerful creations and using them to change the world around you for the greater good. It was no doubt, you had a burning passion for science, not to mention, you were damn good at it. But you also had to admit, it felt good to be in a space among other legends, utilizing those skills right next to them. Especially Shuri. Shuri Udaku was a sight to see; in more ways than one. She had such an astute-being of a brain, and beautiful heart to match. She could arrive at any and every solution for every situation and apply it with ease. And although she may think she's such a tough-guy, she had the most caring heart. She treated all of her team as family, just as she would her mom or her brother. You were always taken care of. And as one side of you was admiring under terms of wanting to uphold such a stellar stature yourself, the other one was admiring in desperate need to be desired by someone of that same stature. No one got Shuri how you did. There was nothing she could hide from you. Your burning desire for her and her love and affection made the most meniscal details unavoidable. She hated that you could read her that way. But you cared so deeply for her. All you wanted was for her to be happy. And for her to be happy, with you.

Out of all the ways you could read her, romantic aspects were a code you just could not crack. You weren't even sure what she was into, or better yet, who. She was so buried in work and royalty duties, any emotional cards she had were held very close to her chest.

Each day that went by, watching her work sun up to sun down in her lab, you yearned to know how her hand would feel intertwined with yours. How her lips would feel, leaving deep, soft kisses on your lips, on your neck, down your chest. How her fingers would slowly trace across your hips, the circumference between the inside of your thighs, and eventually plunge deep inside your canal, pumping your g-spot until y-- "Y/N." Shuri called out to you, breaking you out of your fantasy of a trance. You quickly jumped up, straightening yourself out, and lifting your chin from your palm, where it previously rested. "Yes, princess?" You responded, eagerly awaiting whatever she had to ask or tell. "Have you made any progress on finishing Project-3280?" She walked up to you, looking down at the paper work she had in her hand, before looking up, scanning your facial expression for an answer. "Yes, princess." You answered proudly, curing her wonder. She lowly chuckled aloud, causing you to furrow your eyebrows, curious as to what about what you said was amusing. "Do you say anything other than 'Yes, princess'?" Your lashes fluttered as you scanned for the words to say, ultimately standing blankly, no words of response to be found.

"I told you, you work with me, not for me. You can speak regularly with me." She says in sincerity, holding the eye-contact, once again making your knees buckle at her commanding nature. "Yes, Pri--" You began before catching yourself in the very correction you were just given. Shuri raised her eyebrows, catching you as well, non-verbally. "I-I mean, okay, Shuri, yea. Got it." She chuckled again once more to herself before we walking off the clean the board she had previously been doing all her calculations on. You sat back on the high chair that stood behind the lab table you were at, scanning her from afar. Your eyes followed her slim frame from bottom-to-top, tracing the tattoo that resided up the side of her neck, to her sharp jaw, and her side profile. You bleakly counted the strands of hair on her head from the undercut, all the way to the curly top. You watched her slim, veined hands as they traveled quickly across the board in a wax-on, wax-off motion. You took note of how firmly they gripped the cloth right in their middle. You couldn't help but to trail your thoughts off into those hands gripping you that way. "Oh, fuck," You breathe out in a whisper, crossing your legs and nibbling at the end of your grey BIC pen. You continued to squirm in your seat as you watched sweat drip down the back of her neck, disappearing into the cloth of her lab coat. "Is it hot in here, to you, Y/N?" She asked, looking back at you. You shrugged your shoulders, quickly flicking your hands up at your side in a fake 'unsure' motion. It was definitely hot in there, but that was purposeful on your part. You had turned off the AC, knowing you'd be in here alone with her. It was just so captivating seeing her move and work so diligently that she would perspire and drip everywhere. You’d love to see those droplets falling from the hard work of another activity, with your assistance of course.

She wiped her forehead dry before pulling up her sleeves and walking back over to you. She was always finding ways to show and expose her hands and her arms. Almost like she knew those very things turned you on. You yourself would like to show her something.

“Okay, I’m ready. Show me what you got,” she rubs her hands together, in eagerness and excitement.

You almost choked on the saliva resting on the back of your tongue.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, taken aback by her statement, not sure if you heard what you thought you did.

“The project,” She pointed down towards the file folders you had right in front of you.

“Oh,” You reply, feeling silly for thinking she was referring to anything else.

You hand her the files, and she flips through them, carefully and attentively reading through each diagram.

You could feel your violently pulsating heart drop into your stomach and join the band of disruption that was previously keeping a concert in there. You had worked fairly hard on this project, and you wanted it to be perfect. More than anything you wanted her to approve. Your nerves began to worsen as you couldn’t pinpoint a reaction of satisfaction nor disapproval.

After what felt like an eternity of silence and confusion, Shuri finally rested the papers on the table and looked at you, a smile slowly creeping onto her face.

“I have to say, I am very impressed, Miss Y/N.” The band of disruption in your stomach finally dismembered, and was replaced with a symphony of butterflies. “Your technique is flawless. It must’ve took you ages to decode this.”

You tried to conceal your proud smile and your flushed cheeks, and failed terribly.

“Only took me 3 days.”

Shuri eyes widened, in an even more impressed state. “You’re joking, surely. It took me 3 weeks during my junior program! Let me find out you’re trying to replace me.” She teased, nudging your shoulder, slightly pushing.

You bit down on your teeth, flexing your jaw, fighting the moan that almost escaped from the sudden contact.

“You could never be replaced, Princess.” You say, more directly that you would’ve liked to. Your faces were separated merely by a foot. The eye-contact between the two of you lingered, until broken by a gaze at your lips, given by Shuri. She glanced back up at your eyes before giving you a smile, sending you a wink, and getting up to finally make her exit out of the room.

Your rivers were flowing so potently, you could slip right out of your chair. She was always so reassuring. Attentive. Gentle. With every word and every action towards you. You wanted to believe she moved that way with you intentionally, simultaneously trying not succumb to injuries of your delusion. With that note, you decided to go back to your quarter and wash off the day. You'd been working exceptionally hard all week, especially today, being that you woke particularly early to put your last finishes touches on the project. It didn't need anymore altering, honestly, but the pressures of wanting to impress the Princess had definitely took over. As you approach your room, you place your palm on the panel beside your door, allowing it to scan your prints for access. You waste no time kicking off your shoes and peeling your clothes off your body, stockings, lab coat and all, letting it drop to the ground and immediately heading to the bathroom to start a hot shower.

ꨄ︎

You lay your towel across you bed and lay on it, not yet ready to have your freedom restricted by fabric. As you lay, you smile to yourself, overcome with gratitude that Shuri approved of your work. To tell the truth, the only reason you completed the project so fast was so that you could get back to your own. A personal project. You felt sort of guilty using the labs specific resources to make such a perverted creation, but you were dying to know how it felt. How it could feel. How she felt. Invading your walls, breaking them down & making you beg for her to repair them, just to break them down again.

As those feelings that were all too familiar began to rise, you decided to put its effectiveness to the test. You reach over to the dresser drawer beside you & open it, pulling out the gadget.

It was a 256T information-stored sex-toy. It may have looked like a regular, fancy-designed vibrating dildo, but stored inside was recollection of every memory of every encounter the two of you shared. The first glance, the first conversation, every accidental bump, nudge, & shoulder brush. Every piece of eye-contact delivered, every advised direction given.

Nervous, yet excited, you let out a hefty breath, shut your eyes, and held the tool up to your pair of lips, which were currently aching at the hands of desire. One click, and off it was set. Soon as the device made contact with your skin, off into imaginal bliss you went.

“Mm,” You moaned at the sensation. It started off as a soft, comforting vibration, and as the memories built, so did the intensity.

“Exceptional work. Welcome to the team.”

“Thank you so much, Princess. I’m beyond grateful.”

“Please, call me Shuri. What should I call you?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” She smiled. Oh god, that smile. “A name fit for a scientist.”

“Oh, fuck,” Your chest began to heave up and down, as you chased the breath escaping from your lungs and out of your mouth.

“Alright team, let’s get a hold on these mission plans.”

“I don’t understand why we can’t just corner the sucker and blow him up with one of those kick-ass Wakandan canons.” A red head boy with circular specs blurted out.

“Would anybody like to tell me why that wouldn’t work?”

“He’d move so fast he’d dodge the blow?” Another scientist blurts out. Shuri closes her eyes and shakes her head in disapproval of the answer.

“He’s the under lord of the sea. He’d drown the surface area and blow out the canon circuit b-before it could even charge up.” You say semi-confidently.

Shuri’s eyes shoot up open and dart in your direction. “Bingo.” she says with a smile. “You’ve been paying attention. Good girl.”

“Ugh, yes!” You cry out. “I’m your good girl.”

Puzzled, frazzled & slightly confused, you stumbled in Shuri’s office, desperately in need of her guidance. You knock and the door slides open.

“Shuri?” You walk in, taking in the scenery, forgetting how beautiful her office really was. You take a minute to scan the ceilings, the walls, all of its intricate design. She had great taste. Walking backwards, you trip over the rug that ran from underneath her desk.

“Oh—!” You began to fall backwards, when your fall is stopped and barricaded by a pair of strong but steady hands, clamped around your waist.

“You’re good, I got you, I got you,” Soft, affirming words entered your ear canal in a slight whisper, coming from a velvety voice you oh-so-loved. It was quickly followed by a low chuckle that sent a riveting chill down your spine.

“Do you always walk backwards and not look where you're going?”

“Oh, Shuri,” your voice began to carry louder and farther. You couldn’t be more grateful for these sound-proof walls, because you were about to let it all go.

Your body began to vibrate under the pressure, and your juices began to coat around the circumference of the tool.

When you realized you stumbled into her arms, you began to get flustered, stealing a response from both your lips and your brain.

“I’m just messing with you. But what’s up, you okay?”

“I just— I”

“What is it, Y/N, what do you need from me? Let me help you.”

“Fuckkk, Shuri, just fuck me already, please!” You desperately buck yourself up against the toy, in attempts to fully immerse into your fantasy world. Your eyes began to flutter right to the back of your eyelids as one of your hands violently gripped the sheets beneath you. This is the closest you've ever gotten to feeling her and if you weren't so overcome by bliss right now, you'd be hella impressed at its successful function. On other side, a lengthy pair of footsteps paced by your door, alarmed, yet intrigued by the sounds emerging from your room. Shuri had been passing your floor, on her way back to her office, when the sound of your voice in what sounded like pleas stopped her in her tracks. She leaned her ear up against your door, making sure she didn't hear what she thought she was hearing. "You feel so good inside me, Shuri, fuck." Her body immediately heated up at the melodic sounds of your moans, but her heart dropped to the ground when she heard her own name attached to those lewd things you were saying. "Y-Y/N?" Your name fell faint from her lips as she tried to circle in on her own confusion. "Fuck, I'm cumming for you, Princess." You began to make a sloppy, slippery mess as you pumped the toy inside of you, sloshing around all your juices, pushing your orgasm way past your regular limits. "Fuck," Shuri sighed out a frustrated breath, mood switched from confused to turned on. Is this what you did in your free time? Is that what you really wanted? Losing the battle to her impulsive thoughts, she placed her palm on the dual-accessed panel and let herself in. She quietly leaned back on the wall, watching you from across the room, with intent. She watched your sexy frame fluidly squirm around in its place, riding out all its sensations. A smirk creeped across her face, compliments of her new feelings of arousal and her now enlarged ego. Her entrance was so silent, so swift, you continued your pleasuring without noticing the invasion. You sent yourself over the edge, imagining her tall, slim figure, hovering over you, working your body out, kissing across your jaw, whispering commands in your ear. Tell me it's mine. "It's yours, Shuri," Your eyes began to flood with tears, clouding your vision even with slightly cracked open eyelids. "It's all yours, baby." "You mean that?" You hear that familiar voice project itself from across the room, and somehow, even through all your deluded fantasy, you realized how real it sounded. Too real. You opened your eyes and were met with the pair of chocolate brown eyes you so often got lost in, but this time, they were shadowed with lust. You jumped so high, you could've jolted right out of your skin. "Shit!" You sat up, fighting to catch your breath, partially from all the work you had be exerting, partially from the jumpscare you had just encountered. "Shuri, what the fuck are you doing in here?" You grabbed your towel quickly from underneath your body and wrapped it around your naked figure. Her eyes widened, and she threw her hands up in defeat, shocked at your choice of words. She had never heard you speak so profanely. "Well, it kind of sounded like you wanted me in here just a second ago." She replied with her sarcasm and razor-sharp wit, slowly walking towards the edge of your bed, a hand behind her back. You nervously swallowed, fighting to coat your now dry throat, backing up further into your headboard. "I don't understand, H-how did you--" Shuri took her closed fist from behind her hand, lowering it and opening it, showing the kimoyo-bead you had left on the wall during your daily spy on Shuri's studies. Realizing what you had done, you were so embarrassed you could disintegrate right into the ground. "Your eavesdropping has failed you, today, Miss Y/N." In this moment, you wish you could disappear. Not only did you just get caught touching yourself aloud to the thought of your boss, you got caught eavesdropping as well.

How could you slip like this? I mean, after all, you had your secret admiration games down to a science, no pun intended. It was only one thing left to do.

“I-I’m so sorry. I had no intent of disrespecting you or your home like this. I’ll be out of here by dawn.” Each word you uttered cut through you like glass. The pain of having to resign from your dream job & possibly tainting whatever upstanding image the love of your life had of you all because you couldn’t control your sexual urges was enough to crush you.

Before you could lift up to collect your belongings, The Princess held a hand out to stop you.

“Nonsense.” She rises to her feet, staring down at you with a glare you can’t recall seeing before. It was demanding, but not condescending. It was almost, dare you say, an eagerness. "I just wish you would've told me sooner." She says, all seriousness in her tone of voice. "We could've solved this a long time ago." You could hear your heartbeat thumping, directly through your eardrum. The subtle implication spun your mind in every which direction. You didn't want to assume, but if she meant what you thought she did, this would change everything as you knew it. "What are you saying?" You decided to play dumb. You knew what she was getting it, you just needed to hear her say it. "I'm saying," She pulled you by your hips, down to the edge of the bed, causing you to gasp from sudden movement, and hovered over you, grounding both hands at each of your sides. "If you needed some loving from the Princess, I would've happily obliged." As turned on as you were, you couldn't hide the look of shock on your face. You had to be dreaming. "Don't act surprised. I'm like a baby around you. I can't even focus when you're around." You melted underneath her at her confession. All these burning desires and you could've had it with little to no effort. Silently you were cursing your shy and awkward nature. "Bullshit." Your shocked expression grew into a flirtatious smile. You were beaming inside, but you couldn't help to tug a little more. Shuri lowered herself to your lips and crashed into them with her own. Her tongue swiped across your lip asking for permission of entrance, and you accepted. You placed your hands and the sides of her jaw, deepening the passionate kiss between you two. You both moaned in each other's mouth, overwhelmed by the intensity. The heat between your bodies began to generate just like a furnace. You've never felt so much passionate energy before this very moment in your life. After what felt like minutes she finally pulled back from you. "I can give you exactly what you need." She said, staring directly in your eyes, careful not to leave any room for doubt. "But you gotta ask me." You could crawl into a ball and disappear. You were too much of a nervous wreck for this. Ask her? Were your cries and pleas heard from the other side of the door not enough? Truth be told, you wanted her so bad, you were wiling to do anything. You were so stuck in awe, it would take a minute for you to even be able to register the moment. "Come on, baby." She cooed, attempting to coax you out of your silence. "You were so vocal before. I know you know how to use that pretty mouth." You shivered at her forwardness and a moan involuntarily slipped out of your mouth, once again stroking her ego. "Shuri, please," You whined, making an attempt of getting out of the humiliation. "Please?" She mockingly raised her eyebrows, waiting for you to cave. "Please, fuck me. I need it, I need you." You managed to spill out. It was no turning back now. A warm yet sinister smile graced the royal's face. "Now, was that so hard?" She came up from over you, pulling you up with a firm but gentle squeeze around your throat. She pecked your lips a few times more before releasing her grip. "I'll do you one better." Curious to what she was referring to, you could feel the blood rushing through your veins. This was so unpredictable, she was so unpredictable. But it excited you. She took off her coat and her shirt, only being left in a crisp, white tank, bra-less. Though you wouldn't expect that from her, you weren't complaining. The more she revealed, the more beautiful she became. You could see the definition in her figure. You decide to help her undress, unbuckling her slacks and peeling them down to her knees. You reach for her boxers and she pops your hand. "Someone's a little excited, then?" It was so much teasing being given by her, and as much as it pissed you off, secretly it fueled your fire. She hopped up off the bed, slipping out her pants fully before hoisting you up by your lower back, sitting you on her hips.

You wrap your arms around her neck and tighten the grip of your legs around her waist.

She walks you over to the long, metal table you do all your procedures on, currently covered by a tablecloth and all your tubes & tools.

“You’re done with this. Right?” She takes the cloth and roughly yanks it off the table, knocking everything over, even breaking some things.

“Shuri! What the hell!” You nudge her shoulder in complete shock.

“I’ll replace it, don’t worry.” She lowers the table and lowers you down on your back, gently, making you arch and hiss from the contact of the cold metal.

She then begans leaving soft sensual kisses behind your ear, down to your neck and across your chest, while massaging your outer thigh.

You exhaled in attempt to relax, feeling like you were floating from the touch you so badly craved from her. It was like taking a hit of your first drug. Every touch left you feeling waves of intoxication. And there was no sobering up.

“Is this okay?” She asked looking up you for reassurance.

Through glossy eyes and a bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you nodded.

She continued her trail of kisses, traveling lower and lower, until eventually she made it to your promised land.

“Well, how pretty is she?” She asked rhetorically, gliding her two fingers across your clit, purposefully making a connecting line from your heat to her lips.

“Mm,” She moaned. “And tastes as good as she looks.”

Now impatient, you hooked your ankle over her shoulder and pulled her closer to you, leaving her centimeters from your dripping sex.

“Stop fuckin’ around, Shuri.”

“Oh?” She pretends to be taken aback. “I don’t know if I like your attitude. You waited 2 years, you could wait 2 more minutes, can’t you baby?”

She spread your lips open, exposing your pulsing and fully erect hood. Harshly, she spat on it, watching it drip down between your folds.

“Shhhit,” You moan out, dually in pleasure and in agony of this push and pull game. “No, no I can’t, please.”

“Plea—“ She began to mock you again and you interrupted before she could even continue. You no longer wanted to repeat yourself, so you give in.

“Please, just put your mouth on it, please, I’m fucking dripping,” Exclamation and grit all throughout your voice. Without hesitation she attaches her lips to your aching middle, and deeply french kisses it.

“Yes!” You cry out, grabbing onto the sides of the table for some sort of control. “Just like that.”

Moaning from your flavors, she hums, sending vibrations all through you. She alternates between soft and rough sucks, using your button as a pacifier. Her tongue spoke all 5 languages of love, making every reaction you give and sound you make a translator.

“Fuck, baby, you do it so well,” You were spitting out endless praise, overwhelmed by the pleasure you were feeling.

Pleased by your praise, she locks your thighs in place with her forearms, and flatten her tongues against you & rocks it up and down your center. You could feel every warm sensation, every round tastebud wrapping you up into a blissful embrace.

You lean up on your forearms and watch her every move with a dropped jaw and a set of furrowed brows, in dire need of catching this moment. You had the most beautiful, astounding, most talented girl giving you intense pleasure that she herself had be thinking of doing.

You felt your stomach begin to form knots, a clear indicator of the rise of your climax.

“Shuri I’m about to..to” You could barely get the words out, but even still, she wasn’t ready for you to just yet.

“Mm, mm.” She refused, coming up quickly. “Not yet.”

Before you knew it, she had pushed two fingers deep inside you, immediately reattaching her lips to you. With a steady rhythm she pumped in and out of you while attacking your clit with her tongue. She hungrily stared into your eyes until yours decided to make a detour into the back of your head.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Tears began forming again. “I can’t!”

You grabbed a handful of her curls and tugged them backwards, and instead of it holding her back, her grip became even stronger. She quickly replaced her fingers with her tongue and began fucking you with it, gripping your hips and knocking you into her. Your warm, soft juices coated the entire circumference of her mouth and then some.

You couldn’t control your moans nor the volume of them as you blurted out broken whimpers and your body began to shake. You released into her mouth and with one last peck, she thanked you.

“You did so good for me, Angel.” With enamored eyes you grab her by her neck, roughly kissing her and cleaning yourself from off her lips and her face.

“Come here,” To her command, you move over to her as she straps up. She picks you back up, making you airborne once more, and holds you up by your cheeks before sliding her length into you.

“Fuck!” Immediately you fall weak, legs giving out as soon as your walls were accompanied.

“It’s okay baby, you’re okay. Hold onto me,” She instructed you and you wrapped your arms around her neck with no sign of letting go.

Her slim, & veiny hands lifted you up and slid you back into her, primarily slow and steady. Each pump given to you was at a pace faster than the last. She was buried so deep inside you, your vaginal walls began to twitch, and the way she had you restricted, there was no way to run. She drilled inside you as you screamed bloody mary, sacral glands squirting out from underneath you.

“This is what you wanted, hm?” She taunted you between huffs and pants. “For me to fuck you like the slut you are?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes,” The way she was turning you inside out had absolutely nothing on what you had seen in all of your dreams. She was fucking you silly. You were starting to believe the desire wasn’t one-sided.

Reaching your limit, your medium french-set buried themselves into the skin of her back, sure to be leaving what would be a few scratches and welts in the AM.

You mustered up the strength to pull yourself to her, staring into her eyes, still moaning and singing her praises. You wanted her to know how good she was making you feel. And possibly how much you loved her, if she read deep enough.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Y/N,” She compliments, as she watches every face you make.

Grunting and groaning, her thrusts became sloppy, leading you to believe she was almost at her finish line. Before she could, she lifted you up off of her dick and placed your feet back onto the ground. You were entirely too weak to stand, but you’d quickly find out, you standing weren’t in her plans anyway.

With one quick motion, she turns you around and pushes you down back into the table.

You gasp heavily, the cold metal now being met with your hard and sensitive nipples. She holds her tip up against your entrance and rubs in between, subtly dipping in and coming back out every few rubs.

“So,” She leans down to your ear. “You like eavesdropping, do you?”

Your face gets hot from humiliation. You thought you were past this.

“I— I don’t.. I didn’t mean to—,” You try to plead your case but you were a stammering mess.

“Well,” She picks a kimoyo-bead off her bracelet and slams it down onto the wall. “Let’s see how much the others do as well.”

“Shuri, please,” You plead for her to change her mind.

“Aht, aht.” She hushes you. “Save it for the audience, baby.”

You felt your entire body heat up, so rattled by every emotion, in dire shock of what was actually happening rat the moment.

“Fuck you, Shuri.” You spat, so consumed by humiliation, you weren’t considering your possible consequences.

A cold silence runs after your statement and you could feel the switch in energy. She smooths your hair up in a ponytail with one hand and pulls your head back, forcing you to look up at her.

“Gladly.”

Shuri forced herself up into you, still craning your neck to look at her.

“Shit! Wait!” You immediately regret your actions.

Not letting you plead your case, she continued to eagerly rock herself into you, making your ass cheeks ricochet off her hips, creating violent smacking noises.

“Ohhhh, unh!” Your moans began to amplify the more you fought to conceal them. The hold she had you in was making your hovered nipple tips graze across the cool surface, sending you further into overstim.

“That’s it, baby,” Her sweet, soft lips sing your praises. “Let me hear you.”

You were whimpering and pleading in a blabbering mess, it was pathetic to say the least. But she looked so good, she felt so good.

“Tell everybody how good you feel. Tell them who’s making you feel this way.”

These sentences turned a switch on in you that was completely irreversible. Good. Everybody does need to hear. All those snickering, hair twirling, low life bitches, finding any reason to flaunt their bosom in her office. Any reason to touch her, any reason to bombard her with irrelevant questions.

They gave you looks whenever you were with her, they whispered wishes of your demise. With this realization, you completely surrendered to whatever outcome you would be given.

“Fuck, Shuri, you feel s-so good inside me,” You confessed. “Don’t fucking stop.”

Every few strokes she sent a stinging smack up your backside, making you yelp. She reached one hand down over your clit and begin making medium-paced circular motions, while still ramming inside of you.

“Shuriiii,” You stretched her name out as far as she had your lips stretched. “Yes!”

“My name sounds so much better off your lips.” She confessed.

You begged harder, deeper. She obliged your every wish. As you sobbed out overcome with emotion, she leaned down further kissing your sobbing lips. Even in sex, in her roughness, she was gentle.

What seemed like an ever-flowing stream of your release began dropping down both of your shaky, achy legs.

The royal moaned at the sight of you, literally pouring out for her. A few more strokes before she arrived at her own release and she was out of you and kneeling underneath you. She licked you clean, with a wide and flat tongue, from your ankles up to your center, going back in with sweet, passionate swirls and flicks of the tongue on your clit.

The sensation was so sweet and full of care that although you were crying from pleasure, you were also crying from the overwhelming emotions you were feeling.

She made you feel on top of the world. You wanted to make her feel like that.

She stood up and turned you around to face her. She placed a palm on your cheek, thumb rubbing it, admiring your fucked out facial expression and the adoration in your eyes.

You pulled her into you, smashing your lips into hers, dying to feel the safety of them again, and tasted yourself off her lips.

“See how good you taste, nkozsana?” She asked, piercing you with her eye contact and sending chills down your spine with her native tongue.

“I want to taste you.” You blurt out, desperately.

“There’s no need. I just wanna make you feel good.” She replied.

“That would make me feel so good.” You slur your words with full intent of seducing.

You rub your palms across her shoulders and down her chest, lifting the tank once you get to the bottom of her torso. You kiss all down her now exposed skin, kissing around her chest, down her rib cage, down her navel.

“Please, baby?” you looked up at her from your new kneeled position. You felt her shiver between your hands.

She looked down at you and almost melted where she stood. She had such a soft spot for you. She nervously swallowed before caving in and nodding her head, yes.

You smirked to yourself before standing up and taking her hand, leading her to the bed and lightly pushing her back. You instructed her to move back to the middle of the bed and you crawled up to her.

Your acrylic nails aided in the separation of the skin of her waist and the rim of her boxers. You tugged them off her hips and slide them the rest of the way off her legs.

You took a moment, admiring her beauty. For the first time, you saw Shuri Udaku get flustered. Her ‘too cool for school’ nature seemed to take a leave of absence.

Without breaking eye contact, you lowered yourself to her lower stomach, leaving kisses across it. Seeing her squirm under the delicacy of your touch avenged your yearning soul.

You traveled further and further down til you were hovering over her enterprise. From your view, you could see every sticky droplet of sweat, every hair follicle, every sacred part of her being. She sat up on her forearms, watching your every move, tank still folded and breasts still exposed.

You spread her open further with one hand, pinning it in its place and you began your endeavors. Your tongue slowly but efficiently exploring all of her surface area, nothing going untouched. You paid extra attention to her bud, gently sucking and flicking, switching up your speeds.

“Bast—“ Shuri breathed out, in awe of your talent. She reached down to push you off, and before she could you interlocked your fingers with hers and pinned both of your hands to her chest.

“Y/N,” She began to cry out your name, not knowing it was only your ammunition to continue. With feverish pleasure, you spelled your name in cursive across her sensitivity, mentally claiming her to be yours. You wanted this forever. You wanted her forever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, nkoszana,” Her chest heaved up and down, legs beginning to shake. She had never experienced a sexual favor done so passionately, it began to overwhelm her.

You rubbed the sides of her thighs, non-verbally encouraging her to ride it out, while you continued attacking her clit, moaning to send consecutive vibrations into her. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she bucked her hips up, sending herself further into your trap.

Gasping for air, she lets go into you and you clean her up with pride.

As you came back up, she looked at you, astoundingly, in disbelief of what she, 1, allowed you to do to her, and 2 how good you were at it. You smiled nervously, not being able to conceal your chuckle.

“Come here,” She grabbed your arm and tugged you, making you fall directly on top of her. You giggled at her assertiveness.

“Yes?” You ask still smiling down at her.

She pulls you down to her lips, kissing you with the intention of making you feel her gratitude.

“Thank you.” She speaks onto your lips.

You look up at the alarm clock resting on your nightstand, and she positions her neck backwards from underneath you, following your eyes.

“It’s 5 AM.” You start.

“Shit. I gotta go back to my office and set up for the rest of the day.” She says hurriedly, beginning to lift up.

“Can’t you just stay for a little while longer?” You ask her sweetly, purposely putting on the voice that you now know is her weakness.

“Don’t do that to me,” She says fighting off her urges. “I wish I could, but I have a nation to lead.”

“Even Princess’s take vacations, you know,” You reply in a jokey tone.

“Do they?” She chuckled. “I’ll have to invest in one another time.”

Defeated, you began to pout. She lifts up and kisses your lips.

“Put your lips back where they were,” She laughs, teasing you.

You lift up off of her and help her up before she gathers her clothes and puts them back on. The two of you walk back to the door, and she turns around to face you, leaning against it.

“How about I come back tonight?” Shuri asked, holding your hands.

“Hmmm, I don’t know, Princess. I’m a very busy girl.” You tease her.

“Oh, are you?” She chuckles, eyes quickly scanning all of the broken glass materials that lay just a few feet from you both.

You roll your eyes at her sarcasm. “Very funny.”

“You can come back whenever you want.”

“Mm.” She hums. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“Well what if you can’t come back tonight? I thought tonight was your presentation night with the board?” You ask, semi in panic. You really needed to see her again.

“Shit, you’re right. I’m sorry, nkoszana.” Her eyes paced around, in thought, as if she was searching for a solution.

“Well, you could always come to my office. There’s always some work for you to do.” She says with a slick tone in her voice. “Actually, you have some paperwork you haven’t finished that’s past it’s deadline.”

You smiled brightly at her insinuation, knowing very clearly where this was going. “Oh, no, how could I let that happen?”

She shook her head and gave a tsk, tsk, tsk, in her cosplay of disappointment. “I don’t know, but i’m not very pleased with you, Miss Y/N. You will have to make that up to me.”

“Tell me how to fix it,” You say lowly, your arousal slowly building back up.

“Be at my office at 4pm, sharp.” She lifts your chin and lowers herself down to your ear. “And don’t be late. Or that’s an extra penalty.”

She returned back to her above eye level position before kissing your lips once more.

“Yes, Princess,” You promised, impatiently waiting for this day to speed up.

She grabbed the kimoyo bead from off the wall and placed it in her lab coat pocket.

“You give a great performance.” She winked at you before sliding the door open and slipping out, disappearing into the rest of her day.

Smiling from ear to ear, you turn around, and you’re met with the mess that was made earlier, bringing you down from your high.

You quickly open the door and yell down the hall.

“Hey! Come clean up this mess!”

#shuri black panther #shuri x black!reader #black wlw #shuri x you #shuri smut #shuri x y/n #black sapphic #prettymrswright hot ficpic

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formulapai · 6 months

Text

WTF = WHAT THE FLOWER ?

some headcanons with various drivers 🧡

scenario: the drivers with a florist partner OR my daily struggles as a florist, but make it delulu

warning: flowery tomfoolery, mental breakdown and pollens

pai’s words: yes I did cry in front of some customers, yes it was as embarrassing as you can imagine, no I do not regret it (I do)

OSCAR🍊

- the one to remove lilies’ stains from you when you get back from the shop, so he has a roll of tape ready to go at all times

- one time you come back with a big, bright orange stain on your cheek that you didn’t notice before

- is torn between making fun of you and helping you but decides to do the latter

- approaches you with a smirk on his face and proceeds to place a big piece of tape right in the stain and remove it while you’re too stunned to move

- snickers as he holds the orange piece of tape in front of your face until you realize why he decided to glue your cheek

LANDO🍊

- the one to come to your shop and act like a random customer

- talks as if he doesn’t know you or your colleagues and ask unhinged things

- “is it better to water the plant with bathroom water or kitchen water?”

- always ends up buying something and proceeds to give it to you right after you finish wrapping it

- your colleagues swoon while they watch the interaction

- waits for you to close the shop when he can so you can walk back home together

CHARLES🍊

- the one to compliment each and every one of your creations

- you made a mini bouquet with like five flowers ? absolutely breathtaking

- always brags about you and buys something from your shop every time he goes to a dinner, an event or has to give someone a gift

- will probably try to convince some formal events or brands to work with you even when you tell him not to

- tries hard to learn some flower names so he can show off but forget in 0.5 seconds

CARLOS🍊

- the one to kiss your fingers when you hurt them with the pruning knife

- massages your shoulders and legs after a long day

- messages you through the day to ask about how it’s going, the customers you’ve had, what you’ve sold

- brings your lunchbox at work when he notices you forgot it

- motivates you to go to work in the morning even if the only thing he truly wants is to stay in bed with you

LOGAN🍊

- the one to send you memes about your job and ask you if it’s relatable

- spends all his time off in your shop, just chilling

- at this point he’s a worker here too

- once killed one of your plant and went to your shop to buy one to replace it, forgetting you WORK there

- is so soft for you and your love for flowers, it’s actually so sweet

ALEX🍊

- the one to watch YouTube videos so he can understand your ranting better

- “so those are orchids.. but they don’t look like THESE orchids..”

- proudly shows off his knowledge and acts like a puppy when you acknowledge it

- sends someone you don’t know to buy a bouquet and surprises you with it when you come back

- forces George to go to your shop and buy his gf something

LEWIS🍊

- the one to let you rant all night long

- always asks about your day and what you did

- encourages you to try new things and techniques

- in awe when he sees you working, the way you’re focused and passionate warms his heart

- brings you to dine out when he feels like it because you deserve it

- sends you random pictures of flowers he saw today and asks about them

GEORGE🍊

- the one to criticize annoying customers with you

- the person who was rude to you earlier better pray George doesn’t find them cause he’s ready to lash his sass out

- comes to the shop to flirt with you while you ignore him and talk to other customers

- tells you cringey things like “you’re the prettiest flower” or something

- runs you a warm bath when he senses you’ve had a bad day

PT 2 with other drivers soon 🧡

#oscar piastri #lando norris #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #lewis hamilton #george russell #alex albon #logan sargeant #f1 headcanons #f1 x reader #f1 fluff

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navybrat817 · 10 months

Text

Sweet as Cherry Pie

Pairing: Soft Dark!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve comes home with great news, but you're not as happy as you should be. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Implied smut, noncon/dubcon elements (you have been warned), gaps in memory, gaslighting, coercion, creepy vibes, Steve Rogers (yep, he's a warning and a little mean) A/N: Steve and Cherry's Intro for my Disturbia AU! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You always enjoyed baking. It gave you something to do with your hands and the hobby was both simple and challenging. It required focus for measuring and following directions, but you also had fun with your creations. It seemed to be one of the only ways you could express yourself now, which clouded your feelings when you focused too much on it.

I will not feel sorry for myself. I have a good life. The best life.

Being the wife of Steve Rogers was a dream come true. The man was handsome, loving, a hero. The all American dream wrapped up in the perfect package. He worked hard to provide you both with a lovely home and didn't ask for much in return. Only that you follow his orders and be dutiful.

A good wife obeys her husband.

You idly wiped down the counter as you waited for the oven timer to go off, glancing at one of the photos Steve placed near the window. While he smiled from ear-to-ear, yours was a little more reserved. He loved drawing and taking photos of you, but there weren’t any photos of the two of you before you moved to The Haven. They were somehow lost in the move.

Not that I remember packing any of my stuff, but my old place doesn’t matter, does it?

The sound of Steve’s motorcycle pulling into the garage pulled you from your distracted thoughts. He normally called if he was going to come home early. The sound of the door would indicate if he was back for a good or bad reason. Either way, he’d take his mood out on your body. You had to look presentable.

A good wife lives to please her husband.

You threw your apron off and rushed to your room to put on the cherry scented perfume he liked. He enjoyed it because it was seductive and sensual, sweet and tart, good enough to eat. As if on autopilot, you applied it to the same four spots: behind your ear, at the base of your neck, your wrist, and behind your knee. You retouched your lips next, staring at the tube of lipstick once you finished. It wasn't a color you wore until you moved in with him.

Steve picked it because he knows best.

When you looked at your beautiful reflection in the mirror, the urge to smash it began to surface. A flickering flame grew within you, threatening to spread like wildfire as you dropped the lipstick into the sink. There was nothing wrong with looking pretty for your husband. You just wished the person staring back at you was one you recognized.

I’m Cherry. I’m Mrs. Steve Rogers. I’m happy.

“Sweetheart?” Steve called to you before he gently shut the door. He was in a good mood at least. “Mmm. Something smells delicious.”

You straightened your dress and brushed off any negativity that bubbled under your skin as you went to greet him. Not a single blonde hair of his was out of place as he took in the sight of you. The need to impress him took over your thoughts. “Hi. Cookies are almost done,” you said, pressing your red lips to his cheek. “I didn’t expect you to come home so soon.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see my beautiful wife,” he asked as he slipped off his shoes and guided you toward the kitchen. Any excuse to touch you, he did. “Why? Are you not happy to see me?”

“I’m always happy to see you,” you said as you grabbed an oven mitt. The timer went off a second later and his eyes didn’t leave you as you carefully took the sheet out. “I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Everything’s great,” he said, inspecting the cookies as you set them on the stove. You knew it was a wonderful batch without tasting them. The perfect man, he expected perfection in every extension of him. Which is why you didn’t make mistakes with any of your baking or cooking. "I have the best news.”

"Oh? What is it?" you asked curiously.

"Bucky’s married!" he said, taking you by the waist to twirl you around. “Can you believe it?”

"Married?" you repeated, not as happy as your husband. The news should’ve excited you since Bucky was his best friend, but it confused you. "I didn't know he was seeing anyone."

"No? I swore I told you he had his eye on someone,” he said with a condescending chuckle. “Makes me think you don’t pay attention when I speak to you, but that can’t be it, right?”

You went rigid in his grasp when he smiled. It reminded you of a demon, the shades of red and darkness showing in his eyes and perfect row of teeth. “It must’ve slipped my mind. Silly me,” you tried to giggle.

Like so many other things.

You didn’t relax until he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Because you’re so busy taking care of me, which I appreciate,” he praised you, his smile softer. Kinder. “And it’s better most days when I do the thinking for you.”

You bit your tongue so hard you almost drew blood, wanting to say that you were more than just a pretty face. The words didn’t come though. “You know best, Steve” you said as you plastered a smile on your face, your voice somewhat hollow after his insult. “And I love taking care of you.”

If he noticed your lack of enthusiasm, he didn’t say so. “Back to the good news,” he said, swaying with you even though there was no music. “It was a quick engagement and they didn’t want to wait. I wish I could’ve been at the ceremony, but I had that mission and I don’t blame him one bit for not waiting.”

“I’m sure he would’ve loved for you to be his best man.”

“He would’ve, but I'm happy that he’s happy. When you know, you know,” he said, tapping the tip of your nose. “Like the moment I met you. I knew you were going to be my wife."

Your smile faltered a little. It was difficult some days to remember just how you two came to be Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. You knew you loved him, but the actual process of falling for him? The build up of the relationship? It was like there was a chapter missing.

The past is the past and I have everything I need in the present.

Steve looked at you expectantly as you blinked. You needed to focus. “Just like I knew you’d be my husband.”

He hummed, seemingly pleased with your response. "We're going to meet her soon. Will you do me a favor, please? Make her feel welcome?" He suggested, but it was more like a command. He sometimes liked to phrase things in ways that made it sound as if you had a say in the matter, but his word was law. “Bucky’s my best friend and I want you two to be best friends.”

"Of course. It’ll be nice to have a new friend.”

“And once she’s settled in, I know they’re going to start trying for a family,” he went on, placing his hand on your stomach. “Which means we can try, too. Our kids can grow up together, the way Bucky and I did. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

Steve would be the best father. He deserves a family. So does Bucky.

“So wonderful,” you whispered, afraid you’d cry if you raised your voice. You wish you knew why the thought of having children with the man you loved scared you.

“Maybe we can start practicing,” he said, his voice huskier as he gripped your hips. “A bit of dessert before dinner.”

You didn’t protest as he backed you against the counter. Your body would welcome him home the way it always did. He’d please you as you pleased him.

“And Cherry?”

“Yes, Steve?” you asked as he dipped his head to inhale your perfume.

“Make a cherry pie for me to send to Bucky’s house. I don’t think he plans on leaving anytime soon and he isn’t letting his wife leave the bed. We can’t let them go hungry now, can we?”

“No, we can’t,” you replied, closing your eyes as he pushed your dress up.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered.

Happy husband. Happy wife. Happy life.

All good in the neighborhood, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #disturbia au #steve and cherry #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x female!reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

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7-wonders · 1 year

Text

Give Me Everything You've Got

Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x GN!Reader

Summary: After a fight, you learn that Morpheus does not have the best coping skills. Like, at all.

Word Count: 4.7k

Author's note: This is based off of a scene in Brief Lives where Morpheus dramatically stands on his balcony in the rain. Not going to say more, or else that will spoil the comics completely.

No relationship is perfect; it’s a fact as immutable as which direction the sun rises from. The first fight, though, is always a stark reminder of this. That the person you care so deeply for and have shared so much with over the past days, weeks, months isn’t perfect and has faults. The first fight, though nobody wants it to happen, will, inevitably, happen.

And your first fight with Morpheus is a bad one.

It had been three months since you and Morpheus had shared a heated first kiss in a crowded bar, three months since the man of your dreams turned out to be both real and still the man of your dreams. Those three months had been bliss, to put it simply. You looked forward to falling asleep every night, for that meant you could spend uninterrupted time with your love in his realm. He’s insanely busy, of course, being the anthropomorphic personification of dreams and nightmares. Even just being in his presence, sitting on the Shores of Creation and watching as he creates new dreams and nightmares or reading in the library in your own chair and listening to him and Lucienne discuss matters related to the realm, was a gift that you don’t think you’ll ever take for granted.

But then, of course, the other shoe had to drop. The beautiful bubble of a honeymoon phase that you were living in was bound to pop, suddenly and harshly. Foolishly, you had hoped that things between you and Morpheus would always be like this, with both of you on the same page. That, of course, was nothing more than a mere pipe dream, because two people (or, one person and one eldritch being) will never be completely on the same page for every single thing.

The first time you had seen the raven, perched on the overhang of the cafe you were currently waiting for your friends outside of, you had thought nothing more than “oh, it looks like Matthew,” before going back on your merry way. After all, ravens are pretty common birds, and Matthew seemed like a pretty important raven. Surely it wasn’t him; surely he had better things to do than to trail you. It was simply just a coincidence.

Over the next week, however, you kept seeing a raven everywhere you went. When you left the store carrying bags of groceries, one was circling overhead. When you took your lunch break outside on a particularly nice afternoon, there it was, staring at you from another picnic table. When you were finally getting around to loading the dishwasher, it was sitting on your windowsill.

It was like that mental exercise when someone tells you not to think about a yellow car and then you see yellow cars everywhere. Only, you were certain that this was the same raven, and that this raven was Matthew, due to the fact that this raven tried a little too hard to act like a normal raven. As long as you weren’t directly looking at the raven, then it would just stare at you in a way that gave you the creeps. The moment that you turned to look, then it would suddenly start pecking at the ground or preening itself. Convenient. Too convenient, in your opinion.

Finally, you decide that you’re going to confront him. You go out onto your porch to water the little garden that you’re trying to cultivate, and there he is, sitting on the railing and staring right at you. As you go about your watering, he continues to just stare. Once you’ve finished, you whip your head up, fast enough that he doesn’t have time to pretend like he wasn’t watching you.

“Matthew, I know it’s you,” you say to save him the embarrassment of having to keep up the act.

Though the raven tries not to look at you, eventually he knows that the jig is up. He hops closer to you and still doesn’t look at you, but now due to the guilt he’s obviously feeling. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi. You've been following me around.” It’s not a question, because you know that he’s been doing exactly that.

Matthew looks about as sheepish as a raven can possibly look. “You caught me.”

“Are you gonna tell me why you’re stalking me?”

“Do I have to?” You glare at him to tell him that yes, he very much has to. Realizing that he has no choice, he acquiesces. “Orders from the boss man, y’know? It’s kinda what I do.”

You can feel your blood beginning to run hot in your veins from the sudden surge of anger, and you have to breathe to keep yourself from yelling. “Morpheus is making you spy on me?”

“I wouldn’t call it spying.” Matthew can sense the beginnings of a storm brewing, and quickly goes to work at trying to mitigate the impending disaster. “Just…making sure that you’re safe, that’s all! He really cares about you, and it’s tough for him to not be able to be with you whenever he wants.”

“Okay, well, you need to stop following me.”

“I—I don’t know if I can. I’m really not supposed to disobey direct orders. I already got in enough trouble for the whole business with Hell!”

Though you’re mad about the whole situation and, by extension, Matthew himself, you don’t want your feathered friend to get in trouble when he’s not the one that’s at fault. If he’s going to get in trouble for abandoning his post, then you’ll just give him a task instead that happens to take him back to the Dreaming. After all, Morpheus had told you that you could use Matthew to reach him if the need arose.

“Fine, then,” you say. “Will you go back to the Dreaming and tell Morpheus to meet me when he gets the chance? I’d really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, I can do that!”

Matthew prepares to take off, but before he does, you stop him. “And, Matthew?”

“Mm?”

“Don’t come back.”

By the time the first month of dating had passed, you had both already exchanged declarations of love. It felt entirely natural, and you were both thrilled at the next step. Now, the true next step, that of disagreeing with your partner on a fundamental level, is here. You’re far less thrilled about this step.

When Morpheus appears in your living room, you’re already prepared to say what you’ve been practicing in your head since Matthew left. Morpheus has a way of making you forget words, and you’re not about to let that happen this time. Instead of giving him the chance, you jump to your feet and glare at him.

“What the fuck!” you spit. “How dare you!”

Morpheus simply watches you, as cool and collected as always, which only serves to piss you off even more.

“Matthew told me that you are…upset,” he says, “about my having him watch over you.”

You look at him in disbelief. “‘Upset’? I’m furious right now.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re stalking me, without my permission, through your raven!”

“It is not stalking,” he retorts.

“Really? What would you call it, then?”

Rather than answer what it is (because it is stalking), Morpheus defers to his reasoning behind his actions. “I just want to make sure that you are safe when I cannot be with you.”

In his mind, this likely makes complete sense. Of course he wants you safe, and naturally that means sending his raven to watch you at all hours of the day. Perhaps, in his eyes, this was even seen as a romantic gesture. Who this would charm, though, you’re not sure.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Morpheus. I’m an adult.”

“Yes, I am aware of that. Regardless of the immature way that you are currently acting in.”

Oh, you could hit him right now. You have to dig your nails into the palm of your hand to keep the urge at bay. “Then why did you think that you could invade my privacy in such a major way?”

“Because you are human, beloved. If something were to happen to you, if one of my enemies were to take advantage of my absence, I would never forgive myself. I cannot allow that to happen, hence, Matthew watching out for you.”

“I’m more than able to take care of myself. Especially in my own home,” you stress.

“It is for my own peace of mind.”

“Then you have him drop in every once in a while to say hi! You don’t have him playing James Bond and spying on me every minute of every day!”

It’s obvious that Morpheus doesn’t understand your anger towards him right now, and that’s probably the most frustrating thing about this whole mess. You have to close your eyes and gather your thoughts, lest you lose your cool and say something that you really regret.

When you feel just a smidge calmer, you look at Morpheus again. “I can’t deal with this right now. We physically can’t have this conversation until you can actually see why I’m so mad about this.”

His face grows stormy, and his eyes go straight from blue to black, starless pools. “You want me to leave?”

“Have you figured out why I’m mad?” He remains still, challenging you. “Then yes.”

This is just a way to call his bluff. He’s not going to leave, not in the middle of an argument. You just want him to think for a moment about his actions and their effect on you, and then you can talk like civilized adults about a little something called boundaries before making up.

His jaw clenches, as do his fists, and you realize that you may have overestimated his rationality. “Then I suppose I shall take my leave of you.”

“Wait, what?” You take a step towards him and go to grab his arm in an attempt to stop him. “Morpheus!”

He’s gone before you can even feel his coat under your hand, and you’re left staring in shock at the empty space where Morpheus just stood.

You’re distraught about just how wrong your argument with Morpheus went, enough so that you don’t visit the Dreaming that night. It's not on purpose, though. Rather, you’re so upset about the whole situation that you barely sleep, and the sleep that you do get is fitful.

You’re exhausted when your alarm goes off the next morning, and find that all of the anger of last night has dissipated. Now, you’re just sad. Sad that Morpheus couldn’t understand why you were upset, sad that he didn’t stay to finish the conversation, sad that you couldn’t go after him to try and make things right between you.

You slog through your day, so noticeably sad that multiple people ask you what’s wrong. Though saying that you had a fight with your boyfriend doesn’t really begin to encapsulate everything that Morpheus is, it’s a common enough occurrence in the world that those who you share this with immediately nod in understanding and leave you to your misery.

Sleep tries to elude you for a second night, but you refuse to go any longer without seeing Morpheus. Instead, you scrounge around in your medicine cabinet for the bottle of melatonin that you know is back there. When you find it, you down as many of the artificial berry-tasting tablets that’s safe before crawling into bed and hoping that it works.

When you do finally fall asleep and open your eyes in the Dreaming, you’re immediately thrown off by the rain. No, calling it a simple rainstorm would be underselling it. A veritable hurricane has descended on the Dreaming, and you have to brace yourself against the wind somehow blowing through the palace to keep from being blown away. Rain lashes against the windows, which are rattling heavily, in rough sheets, and lightning crackles through the sky.

Growing up around storms has you instinctually looking for a basement or cellar to get to before you remember that nothing can actually harm you in your dreams. The thought doesn’t do much to settle your nerves (you’ve never been too fond of storms), but you keep repeating to yourself that it can’t harm you in some sort of frightened mantra as you make your way to the library.

The library, unfortunately, is in worse shape than the entryway, and you immediately feel a pang of sympathy for Lucienne. All of the bookshelves have been raised on individual islands via dream-magic in an attempt to save the books from the flooding that’s beginning to encroach from the doors and windows. Even so, sandbags are being piled up at the base of each island by a variety of dreams as a failsafe.

Knowing Lucienne, she probably has a backup failsafe for the failsafe.

Dressed in a rainbow parka with the hood up over his little raven head, Matthew stands atop one of the bookshelves and directs the dreams who have been tasked with helping to protect one of the Dreaming’s most precious assets. When he notices you standing awkwardly just inside the main doors, he lets out a squawk and flies to the bookshelf closest to you.

“Oh thank God you’re here,” Matthew exclaims. “This place is gonna get washed away if he keeps up at it!”

“What’s going on?” you ask, both of you flinching at a particularly loud clap of thunder.

Lucienne appears from around a corner, stomping through puddles as she steadily marches towards you in a way that makes you worry that you’re in trouble with her. She’s wearing bright yellow rain gear, and water streams off of the plastic hat in steady rivulets.

“Has Lord Morpheus explained to you that the Dreaming’s weather is tied to his emotions?” Lucienne demands to know.

Morpheus had briefly mentioned this to you once. It was a month or so into your relationship, and you remarked on how beautiful the weather always was in his realm. In the midst of a brutal winter, the reprieve was especially appreciated.

“I am glad that you think so. After all, I am the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is me.” Morpheus replied from behind you.

You were standing on the highest balcony in the palace so that you could properly take in all of the Dreaming, and Morpheus had his arms wrapped snugly around your middle so that he could pull you into his firm chest.

“So you control the weather?” you asked.

“Yes, but I do not do so consciously. It is…like how your own heart continually beats without you needing to think about it.”

At the time, you were satisfied with the explanation. Now, you’re wondering what the hell kind of autonomic nervous system Morpheus has.

“He did,” you say. “But why is the weather so bad?”

She stares at you like you’re an idiot, and you shift uncomfortably under her pointed glare. “Because you had a fight.”

You’re going to ask how she knows such a thing, but you assume it was pretty obvious to Matthew what was going to happen when you told him to have Morpheus visit you.

“It was an argument, not a fight.” Great, now you sound like your parents when you were a kid and would catch them fighting. “Is he that upset about what happened?”

You know that Morpheus is able to hold a grudge better than most. Even though you haven’t seen him, and the storm is fierce, you can tell that this isn’t caused by some petty anger; this is genuine distress, and you’re starting to think that he’s never had to deal with his emotions in a healthy way.

Lucienne nods and says, “You have only ever seen our Lord Morpheus at his best. He—well, I will not divulge that which is not mine to share, but there is a precedent behind what has led him to react in such a way.”

Good lord, what had happened in Morpheus’s past for this to be a normal reaction for him? While you’re also still a little upset over the ‘disagreement’, your hurt comes more from the fact that he left and that you were unable to finish what you had started. Furthermore, if this is normal for him, you hate to see what an abnormal reaction from him is.

Something needs to be done, and you’re going to have to be the one to do it.

“Alright, then. Do you have any idea where he is?” you ask.

Lucienne doesn’t even need to think. “In his chambers, most likely.”

You don’t believe you’ve ever had to find your way to Morpheus’s chambers without him. The hesitation must show on your face, because Matthew flies down from the bookshelf to perch on the back of a chair.

“Just think about him while you’re walking, and the Dreaming should do the rest,” he advises.

“I’m on it.” You give your friends a mock-salute before turning and heading out the door that you came through, mind focused on Morpheus the entire time.

The way that the Dreaming works is interesting. Sometimes, you need to walk a good distance to get from one place to the next. This is often true of when you trek down the Shores to visit Morpheus, or when he takes you to Fiddler’s Green. Other times, you need only blink and take a step before reaching your destination.

This is one of those times, thankfully, because the anxiety coursing through you as you worry about Morpheus and if he’s okay is making every step that you take a shaky one. You’re standing outside of the library one second, and the next, you’re staring at the large, carved wood doors that conceal Morpheus’s chambers from you.

Will the doors be bolted, like how you would lock your own when you were an angsty teenager and wanted the world to know that absolutely nobody was privy to your misery? Will he be mad when he sees you? Mad that you sought him out, that you consulted his own subjects about how best to approach this crisis?

Though you don’t mean to lean against the door as you lose yourself in your thoughts, you do, and it swings open easily. You hope that this is Morpheus’s way of letting you know that you’re welcome here, with him.

He’s not in the large sitting room that first greets you when you enter his chambers, nor is he in the bedroom that he does not sleep in. That means that there’s only one other place that he could be, so you backtrack into the sitting room and go the opposite direction from his bedroom and towards the balcony that you stood on, with him, what feels like so long ago.

There he is, leaning steadfastly against the balcony railing like some sort of Byronic hero as the rain lashes against him and the thunder and lightning create a show for the ages above him. No matter how harshly the wind blows, he refuses to move, instead taking the full brunt of the storm as he stares out into it.

It’s his own version of self-harm, you realize, and you won’t allow him this vice any longer.

You walk out onto the balcony to stand next to Morpheus and try not to get blown away by the gale force winds. Immediately, you’re assaulted by the rain, and it quickly begins to soak through your clothes; you end up turning your back on the brunt of it and directly facing Morpheus so that you can actually see him.

“I suppose Lucienne sent you my way?” In an entirely un-Morpheus move, Morpheus scoffs.

“She told me where to find you, but only because I asked.” You have to raise your voice just to be heard over the storm. “So? Why are you standing out here?”

He laughs dryly. “As if you do not know? Before today, I did not know you to be so needlessly, brutally cruel.”

Is he on drugs? You’d check his pupils, but in the Dreaming, he doesn’t have any. “What are you talking about?”

“You no longer love me!” His voice booms around you as loud as the thunder.

This is news to you, and you’re about to tell him so, but he continues before you can.

“I have transgressed against you, terribly so, and you rightfully sent me away as a result. Now, you have come to tell me that you wish never to see me again.”

To say that you’re completely thrown for a loop would be a gross understatement. “No! What gave you that idea?”

All of the fight, all of the righteous indignity, suddenly deflates out of him, and he looks at you with a defeated look reminiscent of that of a guilty puppy. “Prior experience, I suppose.”

“Oh, Morpheus.”

This is one of the saddest things that you’ve ever heard. His prior relationships involved his lovers spurning him after one little fight? Since he obviously doesn’t know how wrong this is, your heart hurts on his behalf as you reach a hand up to cup his cheek.

“I’m not going to break up with you, and I’m sorry that you’ve been in relationships where that was something that happened.”

The relief on his face is immediate. “You still love me?”

“Yes, you silly, silly anthropomorphic personification. I still love you.”

“You still love me,” he says again in disbelief.

“It was a little fight. Just because fights happen sometimes, doesn’t mean that it’s the end of our relationship.”

“I am…sorry, for invading your privacy in such a way, and further for not understanding why you were upset with me.” It’s obvious that he’s not used to apologizing for anything, but he’s trying, and that’s what matters.

“You understand why I feel the way that I do about that?” You try not to get your hopes up, but utterly fail at it.

He nods. “You feel as though I’m attempting to exert control over you, that I don’t trust you.”

He does get it! You could cheer right now. “Exactly.”

“I do,” he says earnestly, “trust you. To make you feel otherwise was never my intention. You are just so precious to me that if something were to happen to you and I was not there to help you or come to your aid, it would kill me. That fear led me to become possessive, in a way that is healthy for neither of us. For that, I sincerely apologize.”

“Thank you, Morpheus. And I’m sorry for not properly conveying my feelings before I told you to leave.” You shrug. “You’ll have to forgive me for not really understanding; this is my first supernatural relationship.”

“Your last, too, if I have it my way.”

You smile at him and push the wet strands of hair out of your eyes, which seems to alert him to the fact that it’s still storming at a cool “wrath of God” level. He immediately lifts his hand to stop the rain from coming down around you, and an invisible umbrella forms over your heads. It’s obvious that he’s not done there, and he tries to school his face into an expression cooler and more passive than that which he’s currently sporting.

“If you will give me a moment to rein in my emotions…”

“No,” you cut Morpheus off. “Don’t. I like the rain.”

Maybe not this much rain, but you won’t tell him that right now. Because right now, you can already see him trying to slip back into the role of Dream of the Endless, who takes care of everyone and everything and lets nothing affect him. He can pretend that’s the real him all that he wants, but you’re seeing firsthand how detrimental it is to Morpheus. Not Dream, but Morpheus.

And Morpheus deserves to feel emotions, regardless of if it upsets or inconveniences the citizens of the Dreaming. Morpheus deserves to have somebody take care of him for once, instead of taking care of everyone and everything around him. Morpheus deserves a hell of a lot more than he’s previously gotten, and you’re going to be the one to give it to him.

“You do?” he asks.

“Yeah, I do. And if people don’t…then, fuck ‘em!”

His lips twitch. “I’d rather not.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He thinks that joke is so funny every time he uses it, and you’re determined to not let him know that it is kind of funny.

The wind begins to slow down, and the thunder starts to grow fainter. Still, the rain continues, but it’s more tolerable now that it’s falling straight down instead of directly pelting you.

“C’mon.” You grab his hand and start to lead him back inside. “Let’s go lay down for a bit.”

Morpheus immediately begins to protest. “But–”

“Shh. Tomorrow, you can ensure that everything’s back to business as usual. Today, though, I think you’ve earned the right to feel a little sad and upset.”

Though Morpheus doesn’t seem too happy about you telling him what to do, by the time you’re sitting him down on his bed, you’re both completely dry. He watches silently as you take his starry coat off for him, followed by his heavy boots. You take your own shoes off before climbing onto the bed and settling against the pillows. When you hold your arms out to him, he simply raises an eyebrow to challenge you. In response, you wiggle your fingers and try to beckon him over to you.

He begrudgingly allows you to hold him, and kiss the top of his head and try to stifle a laugh in his soft hair. Morpheus’s body begins to relax against yours, and you smile triumphantly as you run a hand up and down his spine. After a few minutes of sitting in silence and listening to the rain against the windows (now less brutal than it was when you first arrived in the Dreaming), you realize that Morpheus is matching his breaths–that he doesn’t need–to yours. Your insides go all warm and fuzzy as a result.

When Morpheus finally feels ready to talk, he picks his head up from your chest to look at you. You smile at the sight of the stars having finally returned to his beautiful eyes, and he asks, “Is this truly how humans cope with their emotions?”

“Mhm. Cry and feel sad a bit, then pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep going.” He hums when you begin to gently card your fingers through your hair, and you file this away as a form of care that you’re definitely going to use for him in the future. “If you’re lucky, you’ve got somebody right there with you to take care of you and help you weather that storm.”

“Sage advice.”

It really is. You just won’t tell him that it’s advice from a children’s show.

Morpheus nods and chooses to relax in your embrace for longer than you would have thought. Honestly, you were expecting more of a fight from him as he tried to plead his case to return to being Dream. Eventually, he does say what’s truly on his mind; he’s been getting better at that, the whole communication thing.

“I am not. Used to being taken care of.” Stating the obvious here, but what matters is that he said it.

“I know,” you say. “Which is why, in addition to the normal care that one gives their romantic partner that you’ll be receiving from me, I’m going to make up for all of what you should have been receiving for so long now.”

“Are you?” Morpheus smirks, amused at your determination.

“Yep. Why don’t we take a nap? That’s always helpful.”

Morpheus doesn’t sleep, per se; rather, he drifts, following you through your various dreamscapes and allowing himself to just be. As he’s described it to you, it’s rather relaxing to him, the same as napping is relaxing to you.

“That sounds…” Morpheus thinks for a moment. “Nice.”

“Good. Then after that, perhaps a warm bath?”

“You are just doing all of the things that make you feel better.” Though he says this, you can tell that he finds the concept intriguing.

You smile. “We’re starting from scratch with you, my love. Everything’s on the table at this point.”

“Very well. Nap first, then bath.”

With you by his side, Morpheus quickly learns how useful the human lesson of “cry and feel sad a bit, then pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep going” actually is.

#dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #morpheus imagine #morpheus #the sandman #the sandman imagine

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