It's a Curse...

"If you quote The Notebook to me I'm going to turn and hobble very slowly in the other direction."

[krispyalpacaduck]

Rescue Me Prologue

Pairing: Morbius x Reader

F/D - Favorite drink

Y/N - Your name

F/S - Favorite scent

F/C - Favorite color

A/N: This is the first part of (hopefully many) to come. Let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts! Happy reading! 

A loud crash scared you half to death, dropping your book and cup of F/D. You jumped up and looked toward your balcony window splintering into thousands of pieces. 

You screamed as something flew into the room through the glass and landed on your floor. Everything felt like it was in slow motion as you brought your arms up to shield your face from the flying glass, grimacing in pain as it sliced your skin. When the glass stopped falling, you look to see a soaking wet black-haired figure laying in the middle of the now destroyed coffee table. A loud thunderclap accentuates the moment as wind and rain followed into the room though the shattered opening. The mystery intruder struggled to get up, starting to drag himself slowly towards you. You backed up, grabbing a letter opener off your end table, holding it out in front of you. Your breathing was ragged, heart hammering in your chest and starting to shake from the fight or flight adrenaline.  

Your eyes didn’t leave the man, backing up until you hit the wall, your breath leaving in a whoosh. Trying to control your fear and shaking, you find your voice.

“I have a weapon and I will use it! Get out or I’ll call the police!” 

The man was regaining his strength, almost to your leg. You suck in a breath, the pain in your arms finally registering. Looking down, you saw the blood drop from your arms onto the carpet, hearing deep growls and watching his body language change as he fought to keep himself under control. Squinting through your wet hair, you got a look at his mouth. Were those… fangs?

“Oh, what the hell…” The words came on a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

You knew you should run, but fear kept you in place, your brain focused solely on the man reaching out for your pant leg. A clawed fist reached out and white-knuckle gripped the fabric, face still hidden by his long black hair. You could hear grunting but couldn’t make anything out. 

Your breath caught in your throat as the man’s head came up.

“Help me.”

You only knew of one man who had long black hair…

“Michael?!”

He looked up then, face contorted and bleeding.

“What happened to you? My God, what are you?”

You watch his eyes drift to your arms and see his nose scrunch up and in, fangs extend, and eyes go red, mouth opening wide.

Your eyes go wide as he leaps on you in an instant, pinning you against the wall. His hands slam into the wall on opposite sides of your head as his head lowers into your shoulder, feeling his hot breath on your neck. Tightening your grip on the letter opener, you tremble as you say, “Michael, please… don’t make me kill you.” 

You were shaking violently, trying to make sense of what was happening, all too aware of the blood dripping down your arms. Michael inched closer to your neck until you felt the tip of his fangs touch your skin, feeling the pressure of his chest against the letter opener.

“Michael… please…”

The sound he made then was primal, horrifying. His claws dug into the plaster, leaving deep gashes in the wall. You felt the tips of his fangs start to go into your neck as the letter opener pushed into his chest just enough to puncture the skin. 

He lifted his head suddenly, his eyes turning white with a deep blue in the middle and an unnatural feeling filled the room before looking to the door. 

A knock on the door, followed by, “Miss Y/N? Are you okay? We heard a crash and screaming. Do I need to call the police?!”  Your blood ran cold as you watched his brows furrow, his vampiric scowl deepening. Looking towards the door, you realize you’ve left your throat dangerously open. Managing the courage, you push on the letter opener pointedly and just enough to remind him it was still there. 

It was enough to make him snap out of it. Swallowing several times while not taking your eyes off of Michael, you found your voice.

“Yes, Margaret. I’m okay. I saw a big rat and knocked over my lamp trying to kill it.”

You hoped you sounded convincing. 

“Are you sure, dear? You don’t sound okay? I’m calling management.”

“No, no, Margaret! Don’t -”

It was too late. You heard her talking on the phone. 

“Get out of here!” You whisper harshly. 

You saw his features fighting to go back to normal, his vampiric side always keeping a leg up. 

As he turned away from you, you saw his eyes and a sorrowful look on his face before he ran to the broken window and jumped out. 

The letter opener fell from your hand and clattered to the floor. Your legs collapsed underneath you as you slid down the wall, unable to do anything but shake and try to remember to breathe. Your arms hurt, you were soaking wet and bleeding and still felt like his fangs were in your neck. Bringing one hand up to your throat, you feel two small puncture marks and gasp when you see blood on your fingers.

Everything hits you then and you break down, sobbing uncontrollably.

Tags:

@using-our-made-up-names​

@nekoannie-chan​

@lex-the-flex​

Rescue Me - Chapter 1 | Rescue Me - Chapter 2 | Rescue Me - Chapter 3 | Rescue Me - Chapter 4 | Rescue Me - Chapter 5 | Rescue Me - Chapter 6 | Rescue Me - Chapter 7

[kidcataldo]

wtf is wrong with people?? I was avoiding seeing strange magic because people said it wasn’t good! Guess what I just got done watching?? ITS FUCKING FANTASTIC WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE IT IS BEAUTIFUL IT MADE MY HEART RIP INTO A MILLION PEACES IN A GOOD WAY and the songs the songs were like little angels singing in my head WHAT THE MOTHER F IS EVERYONE TALKING ABOUT HOW ITS A BAD MOVIE ITS A GOOD MOVIE GO WATCH IT

[joons]

[myria-ssorcam]

[lozey]

I tried to tell my friend that it was really good but he said “OH THAT GEORGE LUCAS MESS OF A FILM?” and I asked him if he saw it and he said, “No, but I read the reviews and watched the trailer.”

AND I WAS LIKE “NO YOU NEED TO WATCH IT. IT IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN WHAT EVERYONE SAYS DONT LISTEN TO THE CRITICS. DONT WATCH THE TRAILER. STOP. GO WATCH IT NOW.”

[artisticfeather]

PREACH! This movie is AMAZING!!!!

[lavenderkhajiit-deactivated2015]

Don’t knock something just cause of the author

[starks-hero]

Avert Your Eyes from Your Demise, Though Lovely It May Be

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x human!Reader

Summary: In which giant spiders aren't the only threat Mirkwood has to offer.

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: they're high on Mirkwood mist the whole time. Do with that what you will.

Translations: Siúlóirí portaigh - bog walkers (Irish) , amrâlimê - my love (Khuzdul) , lansel - love of all loves (Khuzdul)

a/n: I know movie Thorin is described as 5'2ish but I write him as 4'8 - 4'10 because it's more book accurate and because we should embrace this short king. Anyway, I call this 'the intimacy of going insane with your crush.'

You couldn't shake the unease. Even now, as you sat at the edge of a clearance, bark biting harshly into your back, you could almost feel the forest closing in on you. Shadows scurried above you and the air itself was stale.

Your company of fifteen had quickly fallen to a number of just two, with only yourself and Thorin making it through the mist-clouded trails together. Neither of you were certain what had become of the others and given the eeriness of your surroundings, you didn't want to give it too much thought.

A sudden gust of wind rushed through the clearing and the limbs of the trees creaked inward. It was as if the forest was breathing.

“We have to find the others,” you said. Your voice sounded foreign and far off.

Thorin was pacing in front of you, twisting the hilt of his sword in his hand. “They would know well enough not to linger in these woods. We keep heading East.”

“Which way is East?”

“We follow the river.” You didn't miss the beat of uncertainty before Thorin's answer.

You shook your head. “We don't know where it leads.”

“It will lead us away from here which is good enough.”

Almost to emphasize Thorin's point, the surrounding trees creaked and groaned and another shadow scurried overhead. Caution steered your hand to the hilt of your sword and following Thorin's order, you moved on swiftly.

The forest felt too small and too large all at once. Branches knabbed and tore at your clothes and skin, the twisted limbs of rotting trees giving you no option but to duck or crawl beneath their roots. A glance skyward reminded you that this place, in all its foulness, was unending, the tree canopy stretching miles above your head and blackening out the sun's light.

That was if the sun was still up. You'd lost track of the time what seemed like hours ago.

You came to a sudden, harsh stop as your front rather unceremoniously met Thorin's back. With a quiet grunt, you found the reason for stopping was a tangled thicket of twisted branches that now stood before you. The tree, in all its obscure glory, seemed to consume the path entirely, its limbs too thick to cut and trunk too tall to climb. Too tired to think of a solution, you found yourself uncharacteristically willing to give up. Until Thorin shrugged off his furs.

You watched as the grey fabric rolled off his broadened shoulders and revealed his shirt, knotted pattern running up the arms.

“I'll go first,” he took the liberty of explaining as he bunched the furs together and placed them in his pack. “It will be easier for me to get out should I need to.”

You would have liked to argue but Thorin, a regularly stubborn fool, was surprisingly right. He was shorter, his limbs less likely to snag. His dwarven frame would move through the thicket much easier than your own.

He disappeared into the grove, swallowed by bark and darkness and you already found yourself questioning why you let him go alone.

You kicked at the dirt beneath your feet as you waited. Eyes set on the trees, you felt increasingly uneasy. You picked at the leather of your sword sheath. Thorin was a capable warrior and you didn't doubt his ability to defend himself. But something wasn't right, you could feel it, crawling on your skin and putting your hairs on end.

Giving in to impulsiveness, you followed after Thorin.

The branches clawed at your skin and snagged your clothes. You pushed aside what you could, rotting wood giving way easily beneath your palm, but as the many limbs began to swell into trunks, it became increasingly difficult to move. Your chest was pressed uncomfortably against the rough bark. You were never one to fear tight spaces but the sudden inability to take a deep breath came as an unwelcome shock. Just as panic had you reaching for your sword, relief found you in the form of the dwarrow prince.

With renewed determination, you mustered a final push and freed yourself from where you were wedged.

Thorin stood with his back to you, stance stiff. You called his name and he hushed you quickly.

His eyes were set on the tree line ahead of you. His gaze was hard, analytic and you didn't fail to notice how his fingers grazed the hilt of his weapon. He turned to you.

“Do you not hear it?”

“Hear what?”

As if the bugle of battle had been sounded, Thorin's stance shifted and in one swift, fluid movement, he drew his sword. His free hand guided you further behind him. Then, he shot forward, swinging his sword at an invisible target. His expression was one of determination as well as unmistakable fear. Another aimless swing and he turned to you.

“Can you not see it?!” He barked, frustrated at your unwillingness to help.

You raised your head and all but willed yourself to see anything but the winding trails of the forest. But despite how hard you employed your imagination, you saw nothing. Somewhere in the treeline, a bird took flight.

An uncomfortable recollection settled in the forefront of your mind. A shiver ran up your back.

"Thorin," Your hand cautiously fell against his shoulder. He turned to you with fire in his eyes but your expression made him pause. “Gandalf said a dark magic lay over this forest.”

At your words, his defensive stance melted away and defeat took its place. The elvish blade fell from where it was held at his side as he looked around and the fear in his eyes slowly shifted to confusion, then realisation.

“It's toying with our minds?”

You swallowed. The thought made your skin crawl; the idea of the forest as its own conscious entity was a horrifying one. That its magic could sink its claws into your mind and deprive you of your senses, keeping you walking in circles till your feet gave in. The entirety of Mirkwood was one giant spider's web and you hated to think what that made you and Thorin.

“We just need to keep our wits about us and our feet moving forward,” you managed eventually, casting weary glances towards the trees. "Now that we know what's happening we have the upper hand, we stay together, stay vigilant and keep our minds clear."

Thorin felt the sudden need to commend you for your calm demeanor and sudden leadership. But he'd also just attempted to fight a non-existent enemy so he decided saying anything at all was against his better judgment and settled for a curt nod instead.

Your plan fell apart comedically fast. You tried to remain optimistic but as you passed the same tree stump for what must have been the fourth time, you felt as though the forest was laughing at you. Your feet ached as though they'd been walking for days. You could hear each of your breaths echo as they came and the thud of your boots against the earth shook your bones.

The child-like laughter had started not short of an hour ago. Thorin couldn't seem to hear it.

When the rough terrain of rock and dirt softened into the cold, squelching mud of a bog, you both silently agreed that a break was needed. You sat at the end of the wetland, where the moss and reeds sprouted up between damp rocks. The water was gloomy, tinged grey and dark green with a sinister mist resting upon its surface.

The dreariness of the place seemed to seep into your bones.

Thorin sat an arm's length from you, hands braced against his knees as he looked out over the bog with a sullen stare.

“What do you see?” You asked.

“Fire." He said no more and you didn't pry.

In an attempt to ease the aches that had set deep in each of your muscles, you pulled your water canteen from where it hung against your pack. A cool drink of fresh water would be a small but welcome relief that you wouldn't take for granted.

But the liquid was thick and warm as it touched your lips and when you pulled it away it was coloured red. You tossed the canteen away with a grunt of disgust. It unceremoniously met the surface of the water before sinking into the mud.

“We need to leave this place,” you said, hands threading through your hair and pulling at the roots. Thorin didn't argue.

You walked until you felt the leather of your boots threatening to give way. You thought one of the trees you had passed seemed familiar, distinctive enough from the rest of the foliage that it stood out.

“We've been here before,” you said. “We're going round in circles.” You turned to on your heel and found no sign of the dwarf.

“Thorin?”

The eerie silence of the forest echoed back to you.

“Thorin?!”

The feeling of unease returned tenfolds. Shadows crawled above you and the wind quivered through the trees. The mist had worsened, hiding your feet beneath its thickening grey clouds.

But then, like a lifeline being tossed to a drowned sailor at sea, you heard your name. Far off and faint, but your name all the same. Spoken in a voice that flooded you with relief. Calling after him, you followed the resonating sound of his calls until they led you to the point where the water met the soil.

Logic quickly took a back seat as your desperation to find Thorin had you stepping off the path. You sunk immediately, the bog swallowing you up to your knees. You pushed through the thick, sluggish mud, ignoring the burn it caused in the back of your legs. The voice became clearer until his form finally appeared, carved out from the mist.

"Thorin," you greeted him with a smile. But Thorin's expression did not mirror your own. His brows were drawn together and every ounce of air vanished from your lungs when an unsteady hand reached out to cup your cheek.

“I was so worried." Your name fell brokenly from his lips. "I feared I'd lost you.” His hands, shaking and trembling, ran down your arms then back to the swell of your shoulders. His breathing was labored and you could only imagine what Thorin must have witnessed to put the usually stoic king in such a state.

“You're alright? You're not harmed?"

You shook your head and gently grasped Thorin's wrists and he smiled, softer and more sincere than you had ever seen him. The sight made you feel at ease for the first time since stepping foot in the forsaken forest.

"I am glad, Amrâlimê.”

You were not well versed in the culture of dwarves but you were no fool either. You had heard the word spoken among the dwarrow people you'd crossed paths with in the Blue Mountains, noticed the tenderness and sincerity that always encompassed the word, how it was never said with any amount of offhandedness. The word was a confession itself, a confession of the highest kind.

And Thorin had just spoken it to you. As if it were the simplest thing on Earth.

Your confusion must have been evident as Thorin smiled again, the corners of his eyes creasing in amusement.

“You must not look so surprised, my love,” his thumb grazed your jaw. “That I should wish to call you by such a name.”

“What–” You managed in a clumsy attempt to make it known to the dwarf in front of you that you had no idea what was going on. “Thorin.”

The king didn't answer. Rather he kept his eyes fixed on you, coarse fingers working their way from your jaw up to your temple, then brushing just beneath your eye. He touched you as if you were made of something more precious than all the metals held in the great halls of Erebor. And despite the nagging feeling in the back of your mind, in that moment you would have been content to stay there.

In the bogs of a cursed forest with your friends lost and your mind bewitched, all so that the king would keep looking at you as he was now.

But your better judgment, (or more likely, the uncomfortable feeling of mud and bog water dampening your clothes,) brought you back to reality. You moved to speak again but Thorin stopped you.

“It's alright, we're safe here, you and I,” he promised. “You needn't think of anything else.”

You tried to ignore how believable his words sounded as you took a step back. Hurt flashed in the dwarf's eyes.

“No, no we need to find the others. The company–”

“–will find their own way,” he calmed you, hand reaching out again to touch your shoulder. It sent a jolt of warmth through you. “You carry so much, endlessly worrying for the well-being of others. But you needn't burden yourself any longer, lansel. You know what it is you desire, what you deserve. So take it.”

You closed your eyes at his words. His hand found the back of your neck and you allowed him to draw you in closer.

“Let it be just us. Stay with me, Amrâlimê. That's all I ask.”

You had never felt such temptation in all your years. Would it truly be so wrong of you? To allow yourself to have this after all you'd persevered. You had long given up trying to convince yourself that you felt something for the dwarven king. That his bravery, stoicism, and unbridled loyalty to his people didn't fascinate you. You had wanted Thorin since not long after the journey's beginning. And now he wanted you too. There was no reason to keep this from yourself, no reason you shouldn't have it.

But somewhere in the back of your mind, was the persistent reminder that something was wrong. A reminder that resurfaced in the form of Bombur's cooking and Bofur's songs and Balin's stories and Bilbo's immeasurable trust in you. Your friends were still lost and that proved enough to bring you back to rationality.

“Thorin,” you started sternly.

“Forget them,” he said, as if he already knew what you were going to say. “Forget everything else. It is just us now. All is as it should be.”

You felt a tinge of discomfort at his words and you took another step back. Thorin would never forsake his kin, not if he was in his right mind. He traced your cheek again and this time you grasped his arm in a strong enough hold to pull it away.

You caught sight of his hand out of the corner of your eye and what you saw made you feel ill. The skin was rotting, bones threatening to tear through their paper-thin bonds. The fabric of Thorin's clothes had vanished and your nails had sunk into the rotting flesh which had begun to fall way in your grip.

You yanked your hand back in disgust, tripping and falling backward into the water at the sight of the creature. A gaping hole sat in the center of its face where you imagined its nose should be and a rigid crack served as its mouth. Green threads of damp mossy hair sprouted from its head and hung in front of the hollow cavities of its eyes.

An Siúlóir Portaigh. A creature you hadn't crossed paths with since you'd last traveled East of Gondor.

A bony hand reached out for you and you shot yourself backward, scrambling to your feet. Thorin's deep voice had been replaced with a low rasping gurgle, the sound growing louder as the creature lunged for you.

You turned and ran.

Thorin's voice had grown hoarse from calling your name.

He had turned away for one moment and you were gone and now as he searched, he feared to think what may have become of you.

His feet sunk into the ground beneath him, water reaching his ankles and soaking through his boots. Reeds sprouted up from the water, the smallest brushing his knees and the tallest towering a foot above his head. With a grunt, he pushed on.

The wind howled as it passed through the hollow chamber of the reeds and Thorin felt the hair on his neck stand up. Then, a shadow passed in front of him. He instinctively reached for his blade. It pushed through the long grass as it approached him but the glint of familiar armor has him dropping his sword.

“Thorin!” You beamed as you reached him. “You're alright. I lost sight of you in the fog.” You grabbed hold of his arms and Thorin was taken back by your sudden brashness. “I'm so glad I found you.”

He watched you for a moment, his joy at finding you unharmed outweighing the odd tinge of suspicion he felt. He cleared his throat and tilted his head forward in a curt nod.

“We must get back to the others.”

He turned to walk on but your arms held him in place.

“You needn't worry, they'll be alright,” you said casually. “As will we.”

Thorin offered a baffled look that doubled as a warning. He was uncertain what had caused your uncharacteristic forwardness and in all honesty, wasn't quite sure what to do about it.

You raised your head skyward and smiled again. With no shortage of confusion, Thorin followed your gaze

The sun had come back up and its light was seeping through the leaves above his head. The forest's canopy turned golden, as if set alight by dragon fire. Thorin's expression softened.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” Your hand found his own. “We could stay here, Thorin. You and I. Imagine it.”

Thorin blinked. He could stay here, with you. He could tell you everything he'd been longing to say since the escape from the goblin tunnels and the orc ambush on the cliffside. After all, why shouldn't he? Did he not deserve this after so many hardships? You could truly be together, you could offer him a new start, a new home– Thorin blinked again.

“And what of Erebor?”

You seemed amused by his question. You brushed his braid away from where it hung against his jaw and Thorin surprisingly let it happen.

“Erebor lies half a world away, a buried kingdom of dust and despair in the clutches of a dragon. Is it truly worth so much? Worth so many lives lost,” you asked. “We have everything we need here.”

And Thorin could only think about how right you were; your hands in his, the feel of your fingers brushing his hair, the rising sun and golden leaves– he could want for nothing else.

“Do you not want for this?”

“I–” he tried.

“You have done honorably by your people, Thorin, but you have been selfless for far too long.” He closed his eyes as you spoke. “Choose not what is right by them but by you. No more pain, no more fear.” He could feel your breath against his cheek. “Just us. Stay with me, my love.”

And Thorin decided in that moment that he would.

Your legs ached and your lungs burned.

The bog was becoming harder and harder to navigate but you were yet to find Thorin and you did not plan on stopping till you were certain he was safe.

The water grew shallower and you took it as a blessing. With your lower half free of the mud, you drew your sword. You rounded the trunk of a decaying tree and were met with a horrific sight.

Thorin, with decaying hands grasped round his neck and a deformed maw nearing his face. Thorin stood in a trance, eyes glossed over and body stiff. The siúlóir's mouth widened, rotting skin tearing as it did. Its nails dug into the side of Thorin's neck, harsh enough to draw blood. Still, he didn't move.

You acted on impulse. With a quick lunge forward, you drove your sword through the creatures back, twisting it twice before pushing it deeper.

Its screech was inhumane. It grasped at its wounds, its guttural yowls putting your hairs on end. You ran it through again. The siúlóir went quiet and Thorin screamed out.

“No!” His voice was distraught, his hands grasping at the creature as it slumped to the ground. “No–!”

“Thorin!” You grabbed his shoulder and roughly yanked him back. He raised his head and looked at you as though he'd seen a ghost. “It's alright– it's alright, it's me.”

His gaze fell back to the creature at your feet and given the twist of horror and disgust in his expression you figured he was now seeing it in its true form.

“Siúlóirí portaigh,” you muttered under your breath. “Bog walkers.”

Thorin blinked before taking in his surroundings with frantic eyes. He regarded you with a cautionary look. He said your name and when you nodded, you saw his stance relax slightly. His fear turned to confusion. “What–”

“They were going to drown us,” you answered plainly. You nudged the creature's shoulder with your heel and watched it sink a few inches into the water. “We need to go, this place will be crawling with them.”

Thorin wanted to question how you knew so much about such monsters but given how desperately you wanted to leave their hunting ground, he prioritized.

He offered one last glance at the creature, body now mostly submerged in the sullen water. He shuddered at how well the creature had worn your face, how much its voice had mimicked your own. How easily fooled he'd been.

He silently followed after you.

You walked until the mud on your clothes had hardened and the silk webs coating the trees had all but vanished. The leaf canopy above you had thinned out and the surrounding forest was now warm with the sun's light. The moment you heard a nearby bird song, you knew the dangers of Mirkwood had passed.

Thorin rested against the trunk of a sapling. His gaze was focused on something over your shoulder but given the blankness of his stare, you knew he wasn't looking at anything at all. You took a seat at his side and began to tend to his wound.

A nasty gash ran from the back of his neck to just below his throat. You worked silently. Thorin didn't even seem to notice until you applied a fraction too much pressure and with a sharp intake of breath, he turned to you.

“Sorry.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Thorin spoke.

“What did you see?” he asked you. “That creature, it toyed with my mind, showed me things I longed for that I hadn't even admitted to myself. So what did it show you?”

“Nothing.” The lie came easy. “Nothing of worth. I've dealt with siúlóirí before, they feed you lies, draw you in and then drown you before you even realise you're in danger. Whatever you seen, I wouldn't linger on it.”

Thorin seemed almost saddened by your answer. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, he gently brushed your hand away and got to his feet.

“We keep heading East.” The usual stoicism had returned to his voice. “Dwalin would know to do the same. If we do not regroup with the company in a day's time we head back the way we came and search.”

You nodded and got to your feet like a soldier following orders.

And as you fell into step beside the dwarf you thought maybe it would be best to take your own advice. To pass what you'd seen off as baseless lies not worth thinking about. But the feel of Thorin's shoulders brushing your arm reminded you that would be no easy task.

You entered Mirkwood wondering if what you felt for the dwarven king was more than just fondness. Now you were certain.

quick authors note: I invented the siúlóirí an portaigh for this fic and the name translates to ‘bog walkers/walkers of the bog’ in Irish. It was pretty fun combining two of my interests, writing and folklore, to create my own mythological creature :)

[theartofimagining13]

Imagine:

Tom is completely obsessed with you and can’t keep his hands off you. His love for you is borderline crazy and so overwhelming that sometimes it scares you a bit. He’s very territorial and, as time goes by, all these feelings only intensify. It gets to the point where you don’t know what he’d be capable of if there was another man in your life.

[withalittlehoney]

Never Too Tired For You

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Strange x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT! A singular glass of wine, dom/sub dynamic, rough sex turned soft sex, praise kink, size kink, Daddy kink, breeding kink-ish, subspace/subdrop, aftercare.

Word Count: 10,370

Reading time: ≈ 38 mins.

A/N: I hope you like part two of sugar daddy strange! i wanted to attempt writing subspace with my very own limited experience, and i felt like this stephen and reader were the perfect couple to try it out with! let me know if you like this or if you’d just prefer the nasty, hardcore stuff… hehe.

18+ or i haunt you like a ghost from ur past <;3!

It had become a regular thing. And despite your best efforts to convince him otherwise, Doctor Stephen Strange was intent on helping pay your way through life. Though, you couldn’t complain. You weren’t busting your ass to pay rent anymore and he’d even upgraded your living situation to a little townhome closer to campus when he’d seen your previous residence. Your student loans had been paid off and your next semester was secured with one transfer from his bank account to yours. And your only job was to take care of yourself and take the best dick of your life.

There were three rules…

One, no clothes besides a robe, the lingerie he bought you, and his tees or sweatshirts when it was time to sleep or you wanted to be comfy.

Two, no wandering the sanctum without him— his room, the kitchen, and the library were fair play.

Three, no leaving before Monday morning unless for an emergency.

It felt like a dream.

You arrived at the Sanctum an hour early at four every Friday night and remained there until waking up for classes on Monday. For those three days, you were his, and he was very strict about time. He felt he never had enough time with you. He told you pretty early on that his interest in the deal was more than just the sex. He liked the companionship aspect as well and having the ability to provide for someone outside the mystical realm. And Doctor Strange was very agreeable in each of those areas. Mind-blowing, kinky sex? Check. Genuine and interesting conversation? Check. Monetary and emotional security? Check and check.

He— it— was perfect.

As soon as his bedroom door was open, you were at his side, “Well, hello there Doctor.” You smile up at him, giggling as the Cloak detaches from his shoulders and wraps you in a quick embrace before you get to Stephen, who shoves it out of the way, “How was today for the two of you?”

Stephen wraps his arms around your waist as you put yours around his neck, resting your cheek against his chest you can feel the vibrations as he replies, “Very, very long. We had a student set half of the greenhouse on fire.”

“I thought I smelled smoke…” You tease, “Then again, it always gets so hot when you walk into the room.”

A chuckle rumbles in his chest as he pulls back, grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger and narrowing his eyes at you, “Real cute, Sweetheart.”

“Well, it’s true.” You murmur, reaching up and play with the hair at the nape of his neck, “Sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, Doctor.”

“You get paid to say that.” He murmurs back, pressing his lips to your own roughly

You kiss him back happily for a moment before pulling away to remind him, “I believed that before the pay out, sir.”

“Mm, so you said.” He smiles

You preen like a happy cat as he runs his hand over the top of your head but sympathizes, “I’m sorry your student set the greenhouse on fire. Was anyone injured?”

“No, thankfully. Only the offenders ego was bruised.”

“Well, luckily I already have a nice, warm shower running for you. I’m going to run down to the kitchen and get us some snacks for when you get out, what do you think?”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “That sounds perfect.”

“I set us up something different for our snack…” You say, placing your hands on his chest, “Just a little something special aside from the normal sandwich.”

Stephen’s face goes soft. He reaches up and runs his fingers across your cheek gently, “You didn’t have to do that, Sweetheart.”

“I know I didn’t have to.” You agree, “But I wanted to.” You stand up on your tiptoes and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, “Go hop in the shower, I’ll get everything set up out here.”

“Thank you, Baby.” He whispers, “Can you help get me undressed? I’m having a rough day with my hands.”

“Of course, Handsome.” You agree, taking his hands gently and pulling him toward the bathroom, “How about I give you an nice massage sometime tonight? Hm?”

Stephen gives a groan, “That would be amazing.”

You pull Stephen into the bathroom, the glass on the shower already fogged up, reminding you of a particularly thrilling shower scene the two of you had created once before. He’d been a big fan of it. You hadn’t realized what had him so crazy until after the fact when he murmured something about needing to get a mirror for the bedroom.

You recognized that Stephen could have easily snapped himself out of his robes, but you also recognized that as much as he loved caring for you, he loved being cared for in return. And you were perfectly happy to do little tasks like this for him. It made it feel personal— it made you feel like you were there for more than just your body. And you knew deep down you shouldn’t care either way. It was ridiculous to think of a man like Stephen Strange getting attached to anyone, much less someone who was essentially his high dollar whore. You pushed the thought away and gently pulled at his belt, letting it fall to the floor, moving slowly to slide his robe from his shoulders, running your hands over his chest and abdomen, watching him watch you. He helped you pull off his undershirt which you were far too short to get over his head of your own accord and placed a soft kiss over a healing scar from one of his latest missions— the first you’d been around for.

He’d refused your company the weekend he returned, but the next day you’d woken up to a pretty little lingerie set in a prettily wrapped box and money to go get your nails and hair done. However you wanted, he wasn’t that particular… he’d simply requested you do whatever would make you happy.

You smiled to yourself fondly at the memory. He made plenty of sweet little gestures like that. And it was part of the arrangement, but it didn’t stop your heart from fluttering.

“You’ll have to take your briefs off yourself, Doctor.” You murmur, toying with the waistband, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave if I do.”

He gives a light laugh and places his hands over your own, “Don’t tempt me, Sweetheart.”

“You like to be tempted.” You argue, “You take it like a challenge.”

“And you take it like a champ when I give in.” He teases, leaning down and burying his face in the crook of your neck, “Such a good girl for me.”

You practically purr as he places light kisses along your neck, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to seduce me, Doctor.”

“You might not know as well as you think then.”

“Mm…” You push him away gently, “Shower, food, then we can have fun.” You say sternly, “Can’t have you too tired.”

“I’m never too tired for you, Baby Girl.” Stephen says, serving you a wink

“God, you’re so cheesy.” You roll your eyes

“You love it.” He insists, “Now run along and get everything prepared or I’ll have you bent over the sink in the next ten seconds.”

You quickly turn on your heel and skip out of the room like the obedient little girl you are, giggling to yourself the whole way to the kitchen.

You loved the weekends.

Stephen smiled when he walked back into his room to find the little sitting area all set up for the two of you. The fire was lit, the couch pushed up closer, and a charcuterie board and two glasses of wine set up for the both of you. And then there was you, which was his favorite part of it all. You were laying all cozied up with a blanket covering your lower half, your robe hanging loosely off your shoulders exposing the lacy straps and cups of the new lingerie set he’d bought you last weekend. Bright red, because he couldn’t resist. It scram sex. And paired with your short, black, silk robe, it almost felt elegant in a way.

“Hey, Pretty Girl.” He greets, looking over the area you’d set up while he showered, “This is wonderful, thank you.”

You smile up at him, your eyes briefly dipping to his bare chest and begging to move lower. Only a pair of briefs situated on his lower half. Stephen only wore briefs as far as you’d seen, and you loved it. It was hard to hide anything with the tighter fit. His chest seemed to glow in the firelight, looking awfully warm and inviting. He wasn’t overly sculpted at first glance. It was clear he was largely composed of muscle mass, but it wasn’t in an intimidating way. But the slightest movements would send his muscles rippling— another thing you’d come to thoroughly enjoy. You held your arms up and made grabby hands for him. Stephen chuckled and walked over to the couch, sitting down and reaching over to wrap an arm around your waist. He pulled you over and rest your head against his chest, running his hands softly over your back.

“You look beautiful tonight, Baby Girl.” He murmurs, “And you prepared this little snack for us. When’d you have time for that?”

“I ran to the store straight after school.” You explain, “Just wanted to do something nice for you.” 

“Well, that’s very sweet.” He kissed the top of your head, “How’s school been?”

You give a sort of shrug and wrap your arms around his waist, “Fine. Not as stressful as it used to be having to work on top of it— thanks for that again.”

“No problem.” He chuckles

“But I’m… I dunno’.” 

You give a deep sigh and Stephen frowns, “What’s wrong, Sweetheart?”

“I just… I don’t wanna complain about anything. I don’t wanna sound ungrateful.”

He turns you so that you’re laying facing him, “What’s wrong? Is something wrong with… us? Our arrangement?”

“Oh, Stephen, no!” You object, “Not at all, like I said, I’m very thankful. I just don’t get paid to lay here and complain about anything.”

His brows knit together and he brushes the hair out of your eyes carefully, “Sweetheart, I want you to talk to me. I want to listen to you vent and help if I can… I want to take care of you.”

You hesitate a moment before admitting, “I’m just feeling… unfulfilled at school. Bored. And I’m doing less than ever before, but I’m more exhausted than ever before. I don’t sleep like I used to and I just feel like… like I must be doing something wrong.”

He nods and gives a sort of hum, pulling your head back to his chest and twirling a strand of your hair around his shaking finger. This was something you loved— liked— about Stephen. He always made an actual consideration before speaking. Sometimes, if you looked hard enough, you could see him working the issue through in his mind. It didn’t even need to be an issue, per say, just a conversation. His eyes would rove absently between the space as if he were reading from a book only he could see. If he truly lost himself in thought, his lips would move, and you’d sit there and stare in adoration as he spoke silently to himself.

“That happened to me once. I didn’t have responsibility after the accident— couldn’t have any responsibilities. I was restless and… definitely felt unfulfilled.” You close your eyes and listen intently. You and Stephen never spoke much about the accident after your initial meeting, and you could tell his hands were a sore subject still. So to have him open up like this… it meant a lot more to you than you thought it should have. “I didn’t start sleeping again until Kamar-Taj. I don’t know the exact connection between that feeling unfulfilled and unrest, but there’s certainly a correlation in my experience.

“Hm…” You hum out before suggesting, “Can I pour some wine for you, Steph?”

“That’d be great, Sweetheart.” He agrees, giving your butt a little pat, “It’s high time we enjoy our snack. Need good fuel for a conversation like this.”

You smile and sit up carefully. Stephen flicks his wrist at the wine bottle and the cork pops out. You snatch it from the air and shoot him a disapproving stare. He was supposed to refrain from using magic over the weekends as much as possible, but Stephen could hardly ever resist the chance to show off. Besides, he knew deep down you loved seeing his silly little magic tricks. You poured a healthy glass of wine for both of you, passing Stephen his own with a soft smile. 

“Okay…” You beam back at him, clapping your hands together excitedly, “For meats we have prosciutto, capicola, bresaola, soppressata, and mortadella—“

“Mm… a fan of sausage in all forms, I see.”

You reach back and slap his shoulder lightly, “Don’t be gross, Steph.” You hear him give a light laugh at his perverseness and continue on, “Cheeses are burrata, fontina, gouda, cheddar, and asiago.”

“Wonderful.” Stephen compliments, sitting up and wrapping an arm around your waist, “What else?”

“Baguette and like… three different types of crackers. There were so many, I didn’t know which to choose.” Stephen gives a little exhale through his nose, his breath fanning along your neck, causing you to have to force back a shiver, “Grapes and then… that one is fig jam and the other is pepper jelly. Which I’ve never had— the pepper jelly, I mean— but I was curious. And I even got some olives because you like them… even though they’re nasty.”

“No, they’re delicious.” He argues, taking a sip of his wine, “But that’s neither here nor there. This looks amazing. Almost as amazing as you.” He smiles against your neck and brushes his lips across your bare shoulder

“Such a flatterer, Doctor.” You chide, “Are you trying to get in my pants before you even take a bite of the little meal I prepared?”

“I can’t help it that you made yourself look more tempting than the food.” He teases

“It’s part of the job description.” You murmur, turning to look at him over your shoulder, your breath catching in your throat as his nose brushes against your own

He closed the distance and placed a soft, sweet kiss against your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut as you relaxed back into him carefully, reminding yourself to keep a good hold on your wine glass. You and Stephen exchanged a few soft kisses before he trails to your ear.

He nibbles your earlobe gently and asks, “Where should we start with the food, Baby? And then you can tell me where you think we should start to solve your problem.”

You sit back up and spread a bit of the burrata on a piece of baguette, turning around and holding it up for him. He takes the whole piece in his mouth and gives a pleased hum as he chews through the far too big bite. You giggle and reach up, wiping a crumb off the side of his lips. He swallowed and took a sip of his wine, smiling at you. He looked so sweet. You loved seeing the difference between Stephen when he first arrived to his room and the first few minutes of your time together. You could visibly see his stress melting away. You loved taking care of him as much as he loved taking care of you. And it was odd because you’d never had anyone care for you so completely.

Was that just the arrangement?

“I don’t think I like my major the way I expected to.” You admit softly, “But I don’t know what I want to do if not…” Tears prick in your eyes and you immediately turn back to the food, grabbing a grape and popping it in your mouth, “I just don’t have it figured out like I thought I did.”

Stephen sits up and grabs a couple of olives, crunching on them as he asks, “Did you really think you had it figured out beforehand?”

“I don’t think I had the privilege to stop and consider it beforehand.” You say honestly, “I didn’t… I couldn’t have changed my major and gone through the extra years, it wasn’t feasible—“

“Do it.” Stephen says immediately, “Or be undecided and take classes to figure it out.”

“Stephen…” You sigh

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” You huff, “Like I said, I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but I can’t just throw your money to the wind like that.”

“Most girls in your position are asking to buy designer bags worth triple your tuition and shoes and new clothes just for the hell of it—“

“But how long will this really last, Steph?” You sigh, “I’m not… I can’t change it and then be stuck…” You trail off, dropping your head in your hands, “It’s not the reasonable thing to do.”

He’s silent for a while, making a little sandwich with two crackers, prosciutto, and gouda. He takes a small bite and offers the other half to you and you take it.

After a while he starts carefully, “I have a proposition…”

“Hm?”

“Take a year off. Come live here… do what we do full time.”

“Stephen—“

“No, just listen, Sweetheart.” He says, placing a hand on your knee, “Take a year off, I’ll keep you, you don’t have to worry about rent or food or anything. You can fill your time doing what you want to do. Figure out what you love and we’ll go from there. Even if… if you decide you don’t want to do us anymore, I swear you can stay in the Sanctum or I’ll put you up somewhere and give you enough to make rent through the rest of the year and the next semester of college.” He shrugs, “No risk aside from it taking another year to graduate.”

You force yourself to breathe, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Stephen watches you intently, scared that the offer might have been too much. Stephen wasn’t afraid to admit to himself that he cared for you very, very deeply. The first person he’d let himself care for in a long time and he had a sneaking suspicion it was turning into something more. But he wasn’t certain that was something you wanted.

He’d promised himself if he figured out it was something more he would tell you straight away. It would be best for the both of you if you were on the same page, and he knew if emotions were involved it may very well be that you wanted out. You hadn’t signed up for that. You’d signed up for sex and some conversation every now and again.

“Can I take a while and think on it?” You ask timidly

“Of course, Baby Girl.” Stephen agrees, leaning over and placing a kiss against your forehead, “It’s just an option. And if you think of something different, don’t be afraid to suggest it, okay? I’m here to help you, remember? And I have no problem doing so.”

You give him a soft smile and take his hand in yours, “Thank you, Stephen.”

“You’re welcome.” He agrees, “Is there anything I can help you with school-wise in the meantime?”

“Mm… I have two chapters I need to read this weekend and take notes on.”

“I read out loud, you take notes?”

“I’d appreciate that a lot.”

“Great. We’ll get started as soon as we finish up this snack.” He smiles, “It’s great. Have I said that already?”

You give a light laugh and turn, laying your head against his shoulder, “A few times. But I wouldn’t mind if you said it again.”

“It’s great.” He repeats, placing a kiss on your forehead, “You’re amazing.”

“Mm, not half as amazing as you, but that’s sweet of you to say.”

Stephen’s heart flutters and he takes a sip from his glass to hide the smile threatening to spill over. God, he hoped you took the deal he offered. Coming home to you every day he could would be a dream. Even if it wasn’t exactly real… it was something. Just a taste of the life he’d come to crave.

“Baby…” Stephen groans, running his hands over his face and chucking the book to the end of the bed, “that was the worst two chapters of any book I’ve ever read.”

“Well, it’s not like I wrote it.” You grouch back, looking over your notes and adding the last few highlights, “If it’s any consolation it was as bad for me as it was for you.”

Stephen snorts, “Never heard that one before… much more used to the reverse.”

You laugh and chuck your notebook at him, “Shut up, Old Man.”

Stephen scoffs and throws your notebook to the floor, “Too bad you have a kink for old men.”

“Bad for me, good for you.” You smile, rolling over on top of him

Stephen smiles back up at you, running his hands over your back and down to your ass, “Very good for me.”

“What’re we doing tonight, Doctor?”

“Eager are we?”

“For you? Always.” You say, peppering kisses across his jawline

“Mm… such a flatterer.” He teases, groping your ass roughly, “What do you want to do?”

“Hmm, I was thinking sex.” You sass

Stephen immediately brings his hand down hard over your ass, “Great minds think alike, huh?”

“Mhm.” You hum in his ear, “Where do we start tonight sir?”

“Why don’t you sit back on your knees and show me your new outfit?”

You roll back off of Stephen and crawl to the foot of the bed. Stephen smiles and sits up, leaning against the headboard, his hands already running over his thighs. You do a little shimmy, the shoulders of the silk robe sliding down your soft skin. You reach up and toy with the tie of the robe, pulling it apart oh so slowly. Always such a tease. You let the tie fall apart but keep the robe held tight together. Stephen gives you a stern look, making you giggle, but also getting you to throw the robe off your frame.

Stephen looked you over slowly, complimenting himself on a job well done. You always looked beautiful to him, always. But there was something about this particular set… he’d outdone himself this time. He slowly moves his hand to the start of an erection. You sit back on your legs and hike up the panties on your hips, pushing your chest out as if it weren’t prominent enough in the push-up bra. 

“So, what do you think?” You ask, pulling your hair into a ponytail— he preferred to have it up during sex

“I think you’re beautiful. As always.” Stephen says, “Do you like it?”

“I do.” You say, “I think I liked the teddy from last week more… it was more comfortable. But beauty is pain, isn’t it?”

Stephen flirts, “You must be in constant agony.”

You throw your head back and laugh, raising a brow at him, “Now who’s the flatterer, Steph?”

“We trade-off.” He grabs his length more firmly, massaging it slowly and suggesting, “Why don’t you come help me take off what’s left of my clothes and then I’ll help you take off what’s left of yours?”

You crawl up the bed towards him, running your hands along his legs, trailing kisses across his well-toned thighs. You run one hand over his bulge, watching as Stephen tilts his head back and lets out a soft sigh. You move your lips up to his bulge, licking a long stripe over the fabric. You were practically already drooling. There were few things you could say you wanted more than Doctor Stephen Strange’s dick.

“Hungry little slut tonight, huh?” Stephen asks

You hook your fingers through the waistband of his briefs and look up to him with hooded lids, answering, “Yes, Daddy.”

You pull down the black material and Stephen lifts his hips compliantly. You throw the briefs off the side of the bed carelessly— there wouldn’t be any more clothes tonight— and you were more than happy about it. You wrap your hand around his rapidly hardening cock. You lean down and suckle lightly on his head. Stephen slinks down farther and runs a hand over your back.

“Been thinkin’ about you all week.” You whisper, placing kisses across his shaft, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“You’ve been thinking about my cock? Did you miss me?”

“I always miss you when I leave, Steph.” You admit, “Thought about it all week. Thought about it for too long during class yesterday and had to walk around with wet panties for hours.”

Stephen gives a silent groan, “Mm, you get lost in your dirty daydreams? What were you thinking about, Baby?”

“I thought about sucking your cock.” You admit, “Thought about trying to take it down my throat. How it makes me gag and cry.” You lick a stripe up his length, “Thought about how you tell me what a good girl I am for you when I take it all the way.”

“What a dirty girl.” Stephen chides, “Gets wet thinking about choking on my cock.” He sighs as you start rolling his balls in your hand, “You gonna’ try taking it all the way tonight? You’ve been doing so good learning to take me.”

“I’m trying.” You say, “I wanna’ make you happy.”

He runs a hand over your head and smiles at you softly, “You always make me happy, Baby Girl.”

You smile at him as you stick out your tongue, tapping his head against it and watching as a string of saliva connects to it, “Thank you.”

“You wanna’ make Daddy really happy?”

“Yes sir.” You agree eagerly

“Can he fuck your throat for a while?” Stephen asks, “And then he’s gonna fuck that pussy. Make those pretty little eyes roll back in your head.”

You lean doesn’t to suck on his balls and give a small moan at the thought alone, “Yes, please.”

Stephen grabs your chin and pulls you up his body, pressing his lips to yours. You give a little whimper, melting into him. Stephen gives a groan and wraps his arms around your back, lightly grinding against your hip. He rolls the two of you over and pulls himself off the bed. He grabs your arm and pulls you over to the edge of the bed.

He explains, “I want you to hang your head off the edge of the bed and I’m gonna’ fuck your face like that. You’re going to keep one hand on my leg or hip the whole time. If you take it off, I’ll stop. If you get a head rush, choke too hard, or just feel uncomfortable, please take your hand away so I know, okay?”

“Yes sir.” You nod

Stephen presses a kiss to your forehead and demands, “Turn and lay back.”

You spin around and carefully hang your head off the edge of the bed, immediately opening your mouth wide. Stephen was incredibly pleased to find that the bed was the perfect height for this position. It briefly had him considering what other ways he could get crafty with furniture of different heights around the sanctum. He was promptly drawn back to your present romp when you grabbed his hip and pulled him forward.

He started slow for both of you. He’d become accustomed to cumming inside you and inside you only. Just the thought made him ten times harder. He still loved oral from you… you had an insane talent for it, and after the last couple of months, you’d learned how to turn him into an absolute mess with your mouth alone. But he was obsessed with being inside you; He was obsessed with watching you come undone under his touch, watching you take everything he gave, taking his load, moaning how bad you wanted it, how you needed him to fill you up, how you needed him to get you pregnant…

Stephen had learned a lot about himself because of you.

He ran a thumb gently over your cheek as you sucked on his tip, threading his fingers through your hair near your neck to help support your head. He thrust forward gently, slotting himself further into your warm, wet, welcoming mouth. You gave a little moan, blinking up at him with large eyes. You ran your tongue along the bottom of his cock, feeling the silky smooth skin and the subtle twitch of his member. Stephen watched your throat carefully, cataloging the moment he saw you take a swallow before pushing himself farther in. 

You took a deep breath through your nose and relax your throat. That was the main trick to going deep throat. Breath control and relaxation. If you panic, so does your body. But you fully trusted Stephen, you knew he wouldn’t do anything to seriously hurt you. He tested your limits, but he was always careful to check that you were okay.

“That’s a good girl.” Stephen coos, thrusting lightly, “That’s my Baby Girl. Takes my cock so well.” He runs his hand over your throat lightly, “You feel okay? Squeeze my hip if you are.” You squeeze his hip and Stephen smiles, “Good girl. You just lay there and let Daddy fuck this pretty throat, yeah?”

You give a nod the best you can and Stephen draws himself out of your mouth just to thrust back in. You reach up with your free hand and palm at your tits, the lace fabric of your lingerie stimulating your nipples. Stephen groaned at the visual, mind in overdrive. He couldn’t believe he’d scored you doing nothing aside from showing up to a Stark party he’d complained about having to attend for weeks beforehand. One silly little note, one night of mind-blowing sex turned into what he hoped would be hundreds.

“Playing with yourself while Daddy watches? You know how much he loves those tits, huh? Maybe I’ll fuck those tonight too. Almost sounds as good as fucking that tight little hole. But you don’t care how I fuck you, do you? My sweet little slut doesn’t care where Daddy’s cock is as long as it’s in or on her.” Stephen degrades, cupping a hand underneath your jaw, watching spit seep from the corners of your mouth with every thrust, tears streaming from the corners of your eyes, “Awe, Baby Girl… you crying? Does my cock taste that good?”

You take a gasping breath as Stephen pulls out of your mouth, giving a cough and a harsh sniff to avoid snot running down your face to accompany the drool and tears. Stephen gives your cheek a few light slaps and you groan, your pussy clenching around nothing making you press your thighs together. Your back arches off the bed for no reason other than the amount of pent-up tension in your body needing somewhere to go. Once you’ve caught your breath you open your mouth and stick out your tongue again, fluttering your lashes at him. You stopped being quite so impatient after your third night with him, recognizing no matter how long it took he always gave you something in return. Usually, the more patient you were, the better your release felt in the end. Stephen gave a soft groan and slot himself back in your mouth, watching as you suckle on his head, moaning at the taste of his precum on your tongue. 

You pulled away to murmur, “You taste so good, Stephen.” You reach back and stroke him at his base, “Are you going to cum in my mouth?”

Stephen tsks at you, “No Baby Girl, not tonight. Gonna empty myself in that hungry little pussy.”

You pout up at him, “But I wanna’ taste you.”

“Hm…” Stephen muses, “Maybe we c-could…” He stutters as you tilt your head back farther and suckle on his balls, “Shit— I um… maybe we can afford to waste one load down your throat tonight.”

You smile and tap his head against your tongue, “Yes please, Daddy.”

Stephen strokes your cheek gently, wiping away the faint trails of tears running down your temples and commands, “Open up then and let me keep fucking your face.”

You nod but ask, “Will you tell me when you’re gonna cum? Will you pull out a bit so I can actually taste you?”

“Since you’ve been so sweet and asked so nicely, of course.” He agrees, thrusting forward gently, moaning when you try to swallow around him, “Fuck Baby… you trying to hurry it along? That desperate to taste my cum?”

“Mhmm…” You hum out, the vibrations making his legs shake

Stephen reaches forward on his next thrust and pulls down the cups of your bra, watching your tits bounce slightly with every movement. He was truly fascinated with your breasts. They were so perfect to him in every way. Then again, he felt the same about the rest of your body. He threw his head back and let out a moan, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of you and the feeling of you alone. He could hear you gagging, choking on his length, feel the way your throat contracted around him, the cool air rushing over his shaft every time he pulled out of the warmth of your mouth. So wet, so warm, so perfect…

All his.

Stephen’s legs were starting to shake, you could feel his thrusts getting weaker and weaker. You forced your eyes open and tried to see past the tears to find his arms laced behind his back, his head thrown back with lips slightly parted, chest shining with a layer of clean sweat. The visual caused you to moan once more, which you had been fighting against as one, as Stephen had said earlier, it drove him crazy and you wanted him to take as much time enjoying it as possible. And two, any sort of vocalization made it significantly more difficult to take him at the depth he liked.

“Oh fu—ck, Sweetheart.” Stephen moans, “G-gonna’ cum.” He pulls out, stroking himself quickly, watching as you gag and take in a deep breath, tears continuing to stream down your face, “Hold on, Baby. Stick out your tongue and take my load, then you can breathe. Yeah? You still wanna’ swallow for me?”

You nod fervently and stick out your tongue once more. Stephen lines himself up and fists himself faster, groaning as his seed spurts from his head, most of it landing in your mouth and on your tongue, some of it painting your face. You give a little moan and giggle of your own, staring up at him with wide eyes as your curl your tongue back into your mouth, giving a pleased hum. You finally take in your much-needed breath, your body going limp, head hanging off the edge of the bed completely, blood rushing that way. But with the heartbeat currently residing in your clit, you could sacrifice some blood rush in the other direction.

Stephen gently cups the back of your head and helps you sit up. With a wave of his hand a rag appears, which he uses to gently wipe over your messy face. You give little whines, regrettably already feeling overstimulated. Stephen shushes you gently and crawls into the bed, laying down and holding his arms open in invitation. He had gotten good at reading you. There were very fine lines between when you were ready to go again, needed a second, and were totally done for the night. At the moment it seemed to him you only needed a little break after the abuse of your mouth, and he was more than happy to comply despite his still aching cock.

You crawled over and went to lay down. But he held up a hand and magicked a water bottle into existence, popping open the cap and nodding to it expectantly. You gave a little pout but sat up, taking slow, careful sips. When he was satisfied, he took the bottle from you and held his arms open once more. You laid down on him, wrapping your arms around his neck, hearing as he gave a little chuckle. You snuggled into the crook of his neck and inhaled the scent of his shampoo deeply. Stephen ran his hand over your head gently, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“You did so good for me, Baby Girl. Being such a good girl for me tonight. My best girl.” He whispers

Your heart fluttered and you asked shyly, “Your best girl?”

“Yes, Baby, always.” You give a pleased little hum and he chuckles, “Yeah? You like being my best girl?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You agree

“Good.” He smiles into the top of your head, “Are you okay? Was I too rough with you?”

“No, sir.” You shake your head

“You sure?” He questions, “I feel like you’re feeling sleepy already.” You’re quiet for a moment too long and Stephen encourages, “That’s alright if you are, you know?”

You give a little shrug, “S’just like I said earlier. I haven’t been sleeping well. I guess I’m a little tired.” You huff, “But I’m also horny now.”

Stephen laughs and considers for a moment before offering, “Why don’t you let Daddy take care of you? Let him do all the work tonight and then we’ll go straight to sleep.” Stephen shifts hi hips a bit, “I don’t know if you can tell, but he’s still horny too.”

You let out a sweet little giggle, “But I’m supposed to—“

“Do whatever I ask.” He cuts you off, “And I am asking you to let me take care of you. Can I do that?”

You lift your head up and search his eyes, chewing on your bottom lip, “Are you sure…”

“I’m positive, Sweetheart.” Stephen agrees, running his hands over the curve of your waist, “I just wanna’ take care of my Baby. Whatever she needs. You’ve been so good to me.”

“You’re good to me too.” You return softly, reaching up and gently tracing the outline of his goatee

“I try.” He returns, leaning up and placing a gentle kiss on your lips

You return the kiss softly, letting him lead, following wherever he bids you. His tongue licks at the seam of your lips and you part them, letting him in willingly. Stephen wraps his arms around you tight, pressing your chest firmly against his own, his cock jumping against your hip. You give a needy little whimper that drives Stephen crazy. All the noises you made for him, and that soft, sweet, innocent sound is always what made him wild.

He pulls away and instructs, “Roll off me and lay on your back.” He pats the bed beside him, “Wanna’ nurse on that pretty little clit for a while, is that okay?”

As an answer you roll off of him and onto the mattress, spreading your legs wide. Stephen grins and sits up, shifting over between your legs. 

“Wait!” You stop him before he sets to work. You sit up and take a pillow from the side of the bed and lean down, situating it under your hips and explaining, “Now you don’t have to crane your neck as far.”

Stephen’s heart gives an odd little flutter and he compliments, “See, Sweetheart? You always take such good care of me. Just gonna return the favor.” He places a gentle kiss on your inner thigh and your hips give a little wiggle, “Just let me know what feels good. I’m gonna’ be nice and gentle with you, okay? You tell me when you want more.” He leans down, his breath fanning across your folds before checking, “How many times do you wanna cum tonight? I don’t want to overstimulate you.”

You mull it over before saying, “I wanna cum at the same time as you… when you’re inside me.”

He nods, “Alright. Just lay back and enjoy this for me, Baby Girl.”

Stephen pressed his face into your right thigh, kissing your thigh, his goatee tickling your skin. He ran his hand across the other one, squeezing at the soft flesh. He loved how soft you were. You were sweet, all soft slopes and gentle curves. He would worship the ground you walked on— praise you like the goddess you are. You gave a soft sigh as Stephen’s lips wrapped around one of your lips, suckling softly. Your hips shifted beneath him and he wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you still. He moved to the other lip and gave it the same attention before pressing kisses to your other thigh. He kept his eyes on your glistening cunt, your arousal shining, your clit swollen and needy.

“You have such a pretty cunt, Baby.” He murmurs, “Could stare at her for hours.”

You give a little giggle as he nips at your thigh and remind him, “I know. You have. It was torture.”

“It was worth it in the end.” He argues, kissing your mound, “Never seen you squirt like that before.”

“Didn’t know I could.” You hum, “It felt nice.”

“Think I’ll figure out how to do it again one day. I wanna learn how to make you do it again.”

“It was the toy. That one that hits my clit and g-spot at the same time.”

“Hm… noted.” He hums, “Now close your eyes and relax, Baby Girl.”

Stephen waited until he saw you lay your head back before leaning down and took your clit between his lips. He was gentle, carefully suckling on the nub. You got overstimulated by too much suction on your clit, but it also tended to be what would send you over the edge. You gave a soft moan as Stephen’s lips parted and he started lapping at your clit. You loved having Stephen’s head between your legs. His skill with oral had range. Some nights he was ravenous, eating you like a man starved. Tonight, he was taking his time, doing what you loved. He was making out with your clit. It was slow and sensual and wet. His hands trailing over your legs, squeezing at your hips, groping your ass.

His tongue moved constantly, swirling over your clit before trailing downward and diving into your hole. You’d never met a man who craved being between a woman’s legs like Stephen. It was how you started most nights, actually. He would shuffle between the sheets and stick his head between your legs until your hole was dripping with juices.  No one had ever spent their time taking you apart like Stephen did. It was like his personal mission was watching you fall apart. And you always did.

You reached down and thread your fingers through his hair, pulling gently. Stephen gave a soft groan. The vibration makes you shake, little whimpers falling from your lips. Stephen sticks his tongue in you and moves it in and out slowly, stretching you softly.

“Oh, God… that feels good, Stephen.”

He smiles to himself but doesn’t stop to reply. He was a man on a mission. He wanted to bring you right to the edge before he went inside you. He loved sliding into you and feeling your walls flutter around him. The idea alone had him grinding his hard on into the mattress looking for relief. Stephen ram his hand up your stomach to grab at your breast, toying lightly with you nipple, your hips rolling up into him.

Stephen pulls away to ask, “You feeling okay, Baby Girl?”

“Yes.” You murmur, “Please keep going, please.”

“Will you watch me Baby? Wanna see those pretty eyes roll back in your head while I nurse on your clit.”

Your face flushes, but you nod, lightly scratching at his scalp, “Yes, Daddy.”

Stephen grins and leans back down, his eyes watching yours as he runs his tongue over your clit. Your lips part to form an ‘o’ eyes fluttering closed before snapping back open to look at his. You let out a sharp gasp, turning into a moan as he works one finger slowly into your hole. He suckles gently on your clit, fireworks bursting behind your eyelids as he slides another finger easily into you.

“Holy—“ You gasp out, “Yes, yes, yes…. oh— fuck!” Your head dropped back despite your promise to watch him, but Stephen didn’t reprimand you, too busy trying to keep his perfect pace, too busy trying to make you see stars, “S-s-stephen… I’m gonna— don’t make me—“ You choke out

He pulled his mouth away, looking down at your pretty little pearl glistening with spit, swollen and throbbing, begging for relief. He slowly pulled his fingers from your hole and watched how it fluttered, placing a little kitten lick over it at groaning at your taste. He sat back on his knees and reach up, holding his fingers out to you. You opened your lips and he slid the long, scarred digits inside, smiling to himself as you suck at them softly.

“Tell me how good that tastes…” He murmurs

“Tastes good.” You reply, pulling away from his fingers, arching your back as he trails the wet digits to your nipple, squeezing gently, “Will you fuck me to sleep, Daddy?” You ask softly

“That’s the plan.” Stephen says, running his hands down to your legs and spreading them nice and wide, “Hold your legs back for me until I get settled. Daddy wants to get nice and deep in this little pussy. Gonna fuck you nice and slow and deep… how’s that sound?”

You nod eagerly and hook your hands behind your knees, pulling them back to your chest, trying to control the flush on your cheeks at the way his eyes snap back and forth between your cunt and tits presented perfectly between your legs. He runs his hands over your thighs, shifting his hips forward, rubbing his tip between your folds. You shift impatiently and Stephen smiles down at you, tapping his head against your clit a few times. 

You whine, “Steph… don’t tease me, please.”

 “Okay, okay.” He agrees, “I’m sorry, you just look so pretty squirming.”

You pout up at him, “You’d think I’d look prettier with it actually in me.”

“You are such a needy little baby.” He chides, directing his tip to your entrance and pushing in only a bit before removing it, “So impatient for Daddy’s cock, when you know he’s gonna’ give it to you anyways.”

“Please put it in.” You plead, “Please, please, please….”

“Fuck.” He groans, taking your face between his hand with a grin, smooshing your cheeks together, “Beg for me again.”

“Please give me your dick, Daddy. Please give it to me slow and deep like you said you would. I want it so bad.”

“Oh, I know.” Stephen pouts back, sliding in slow, watching your mouth fall open, “My Baby Girl likes it when I get nice and deep in this pretty little fuck hole. That’s all she is, isn’t it? Just my pretty little fuck doll, desperate for Daddy’s cock.”

Tears well in your eyes from the stretch. It felt magnificent. Stephen always felt amazing, but nothing beat having him slide in slow, the pleasureful torture of his cock stretching you inch by inch, rubbing against your walls, making your eyes roll back in your head. It felt like heaven. 

“All yours.” You manage to breathe out, stars bursting behind your eyelids, already feeling cock drunk

Stephen kept his hands on the backs of your thighs, watching as he slid into your heat little by little, your walls wrapping him in a warm, welcomed bliss. He gave a deep moan that reverberated around the large bedroom as he settled in you completely. He watched your eyes close, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. He looked back down and watched as he pulled out, your walls gripping his cock like a vice. He brought one hand down, resting it on your mound and fingering over your clit carefully. Your tits bounce gently with each thrust, held in the perfect frame by your legs pushed up to your shoulders. 

“Look at my beautiful girl. Such a good girl for me. You feel so good, you know it?”

You give a lazy sort of smile,  “Thank you, Daddy.”

Stephen leans down and presses his lips to yours. You accept gratefully, opening your lips, begging his tongue to tangle with your own. It does in a slow, sensual pace to match his thrusts into your weeping heat. Stephen’s head spun with every little whimper that fell from your lips. He never felt better than knowing he was making you feel good. It was the most important mission he’d had in years.

He moves his arms, wrapping them beneath your shoulders, holding you close in a hug, his face buried in your shoulder. The soft groan and the muttered, ‘fuck, that’s it Baby,’ he whispers in your ear sends your skin prickling. You wrap your legs around his back, locking your ankles, your heels digging into his ass. The simple action made Stephen feel almost feral. It was such a simple act, such a simple thing, such a small bit of intimacy that triggered something primal in him. 

“God, I just wanna be deeper.” Stephen grunts out, “Wanna make myself at home inside of you, Sweetheart. Can’t get enough of you.”

Stephen was balls deep in you, and the fact he wanted more had your heart thundering. You could feel his balls against your ass, his arms wrapped around your back, his hands gripping your shoulders, his hot breath, and his pleasured moans in your ears. He sounded so fucking pretty, he felt so damn good, it was all so intense and intimate.

“S-stephen…” You whimper, “Oh my God, you feel so good.” You tangle your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, pulling gently at the soft locks, “Steph, kiss me, please.” You ask

Stephen replied immediately, trailing kisses from your shoulder, up to your neck, along your jaw, and ending on your lips. Kissing you softly, over and over again. He opened his eyes to find you staring up at him, dazed and beautiful looking. Stephen shifted ever so slightly and watched as your mouth popped open, a beautiful little gasp leaving your lips, your eyes rolling back in your head making him smile.

You stutter out the second you catch your breath, “R-right there, D-daddy. Right there, please. It feels— Jesus, that’s it.” 

“Oh? Did I find that good spot, Baby Girl?” Stephen smirks, placing another soft kiss on your parted lips

“Mhm.” You hum out happily, dazed and consumed with euphoria

“You gonna’ cum on my cock? Cream all over Daddy’s dick like the good little girl you are?”

“Yes, Daddy. Please let me cum. Please…” 

“Don’t worry Baby, I got you.” He soothes, “You don’t have to ask tonight, just do what feels right, okay? It’s about you, Sweetheart. Cum for me when you’re ready.” He whispers against your lips, “You know I love watching you hit that high. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He brushes your hair behind your ear gently, “My Baby looks so pretty wrapped around me coming undone.”

“You just make me feel so g-good.” You murmur

And it was true. It was different with Stephen. It was like floating on air. You felt so well cared for, even when it was rough, even when it was too much. And right now, it was none of that, and you were in a complete state of euphoria. You’d never done drugs, but you were certain this was better. You couldn’t fathom letting him go, you could only hold him tighter.

“You know what I think feels good?” Stephen smiles to himself, knowing just how to send you over the edge

“Hm?”

“When you let me blow my load straight into this pussy. Think about how deep it’s gonna be this time, Sweetheart. You’re gonna take it all for me, yeah? We don’t wanna waste any, wanna make sure you’re stuffed full.” He grunts, “Gonna stuff you full tonight, and tomorrow, and the next day, and one more time before you leave for class Monday morning.” He smirks, “Imagine how wet you’ll be in class then. My cum dripping out of you, horny little mess daydreaming about my cock stuffed down your throat again.” He gives a soft growl, “My nasty, perfect  little girl.”

“I’m…” You murmur, vision going blurry as the tingling feeling begins creeping up your back, your toes curling, “M’gonna… please, with me.”

“Yeah? Go ahead. Cum, Baby Girl. Let me see you let go. I’m right there with you.”

Your nails dig into his back, your hips rolling up to meet his own as your orgasm rocks through you. You give a small cry, the noise traveling straight to his cock, his balls getting tight, his release starting as soon as your walls contract from your own release. He let out his own moan, straight into your ear, only making your pussy clench around him harder. His release felt so warm and right inside you.

“Oh, God, that’s so good.” You mutter, pulling at his hair, your emotions overwhelming you quickly “Stephen…” You sob out

Stephen ruts against you softly a few more times. He can feel you clinging harder to him, your arms wrapping around his back, your legs refusing to let go. Not that he minded— not in the least— but he knew what was happening. It had only happened twice before, both of those times after very physically demanding rounds for you. 

The first time had been during one of your early throat training sessions. He would use your mouth for hours on end. You’d been physically okay, it was simply you and Stephen neither one had been prepared for the mental toll it would take on you. And he’d been very understanding, as had you. That was the strange part about your arrangement— typically, from what Stephen had found out— at least one party had previous experience. That wasn’t true in your case. You were both learning as you went. And Stephen had gotten you in some cozy clothes, held you for the next few hours, talked you down with soft-spoken words of affirmation, and fed you well… he’d taken the most amazing care of you. 

The second time it’d happened, he had you tied down to the bed and overstimulated you past your limit… you’d had to use your safe word for the first time. You’d been practically incoherent for a few hours after the fact, and Stephen untied you immediately, breaking his rule of no magic on the weekends in his bedroom to get you out of the restraints as quickly as possible. He’d pulled you into his lap and covered the two of you in the comforter, rocking you back and forth softly, murmuring words of praise and reassurance.

‘That’s okay, Baby Girl.’

‘Of course I’m not upset. If you aren’t having a god time, I’m not having a good time.’

‘It’s okay to ask to stop.’

‘You did so good for me, I’m so proud of you for using the safe word.’

‘You’re okay Sweetheart. You’re such a good girl for me, you know?’

He’d looked farther into it and from what he could tell, you were experiencing subspace. Heightened emotions, incoherence, and feelings of euphoria. But that also meant it could turn around and cause the reverse of all of that. And typically, it was the dominant’s job to control the subspace and care for their sub in the aftermath of the fall, but because it was all so new, he hadn’t known at the start. So, in the last few weeks, he’d done plenty of research on the subject to prepare himself for subspace and the possible fall. He was feeling good about it this time.

Stephen pulls his head away from the crook of your neck to check, “Hey, Baby Girl?” You don’t answer, looking up at him with big eyes. He smiles and runs a hand over the top of your head gently, “Can Daddy pull away? He’s not going anywhere right this second, he just doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You give a little nod after some consideration and Stephen pulls out of you gently, rolling over on his back and asking, “You wanna come lay with me, or do you need some space for a minute?”

You blink harshly and swallow hard before saying, “I just need a second…”

“That’s okay, Baby.” Stephen agrees, “Can I go get something to clean us up? Get you some comfy clothes to put on?”

“Yes.” You say

“Perfect, thank you.” Stephen smiles softly, “Give me one minute, okay?”

You nod and Stephen rolls carefully off the bed, walking into the bathroom, and grabbing a washcloth. He lets the water run until it’s warm, checking the temperature to make sure it doesn’t get too hot. While he’s waiting, he takes the time to wash himself off and freshen up a bit for you. Just some water over his face, deodorant refresh, no new cologne in case it would overwhelm you. He wets the cloth down and wrings it out, grabbing another dry towel to pat you down. When he walks back into the bedroom he smiles seeing you cuddled up with one of his pillows, little eyes fluttering open and closed.

“Move to the edge of the bed for me, Sweetheart.” You give a little whine of protest and Stephen reasons, “I gotta’ clean you up, Baby. We have to make sure you don’t get an infection. And then I’m gonna’ put you in some comfy clothes, and I can either lay here with you, or I can go sit by the fire and read, or I can go to my office if you need some time alone. Okay?”

You give a little snort, but roll over, spreading your legs for him. He gives a little chuckle and wipes over your face first, your nose scrunching, another whine of protest. He then wiped over your chest and stomach, down and over your vulva carefully, making you squirm, a little squeak leaving your lips.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Stephen soothes patting you dry, “But all done now. Let me get you a tee and…” He pretends to consider for a moment asking, “What about a skirt? You wanna wear a skirt to sleep?” You give a little giggle and shake your head no, “How about… some jeans?”

“No.” You smile shyly

“No? How about… my boxers?”

“Hmm… no thank you.”

He nods, “Sweats?”

“Yes, please.” You agree happily

“Perfect. Be right back.”

Your eyes follow Stephen as he walks over to his dresser, first pulling out a pair of briefs for himself. He then goes to the closet and pulls out a sweatshirt and a pair of sweats. As he walks back over to the bed, you sit up without having to be asked.

“Thank you for sitting up for me, Baby. That’s so good.” He compliments

“Thank you, Daddy.” You smile up at him, holding up your arms as he holds out the sweatshirt

He then pulls on the sweats carefully before walking back over to his drawers and pulling out a sweatshirt for himself. He turns around to find you sitting on the edge of the bed, arms held out to him, grabby hands in full effect. He chuckles and walks back over, your arms immediately wrapping around his waist, your chin resting on his abdomen as you stare up at him with big eyes. He runs a hand over the top of your head, smiling down at you.

“You did so well for me tonight, Baby Girl. I’m so proud of you. Thank you.”

You snuggle your face into his tummy and smile to yourself, “You’re welcome.”

“Now, what do we want to do?” You pause, little hands grabbing at the back of his sweatshirt, “Can I lay down with you? I think it’s time to go to sleep. I want you to get some rest.”

“Will you talk to me while I fall asleep?” You ask

“Of course, Baby.” He agrees, reaching over and pulling back the comforter, “Come get comfy.”

You crawl over and bury yourself under the comforter, smiling up at Stephen as he tucks you in. He crawls into the bed and lies down next to you, letting you shuffle over and curl up next to him like a little cat. Stephen wraps his arms around you and runs his hands over your back slowly. Your eyes immediately start growing heavy, exhaustion catching up with you quick.

“How are you feeling?” He asks

“I’m tired.” You murmur back

“Yeah? How about physically? Is anything hurting?” You shake your head no, “Are we just feeling tired now?”

“Tired and confused.” You admit, “Everything is just so much.”

Stephen nods and kisses the top of your head, “Life does that sometimes, huh?”

“It sucks.” You huff

“I know it.” Stephen says, “But I hope you know, I want to help you through it, okay? Whatever is best for you.”

“That’s… sweet…” You murmur, “Thank you.”

Stephen smiles softly to himself, “Alright. Go to sleep, Sweetheart. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

“G’night.” 

“Good night.”

Stephen waited until your breathing evened out, soft, incoherent whispers as you drifted off to sleep. He kept his arms around you holding you close. He wanted to fall asleep with you in his arms so he’d know the first thing when you woke up. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head and closed his own eyes, letting himself drift off.

tag list: @yuu-chan-is-still-a-student12 @fireworksinthesky @cemak @pinkthick @cumbrbatchbenedict @newavenger @evelyn-kingsley @aphroditesdilemma @ironstrange1991 @strangeobsessed @iamsherlocked1479 @vickie-mcmuffin @rmoonstoner @the-royal-petals @vi0letdaze

[krispyalpacaduck]

Yay! Okay, so, I struggle with endometriosis and I was hoping you could write something (short imagine, headcanon list, whatever you feel) where the reader is dealing with horrible cramps (imagine labor pains) and is in so much pain, all she can do is cling to him and cry. Nothing helps her so he just has to comfort her the best he can. (In my experience I usually have a panic attack and almost pass out. I just want somone to hold me as tight as they can.)

I completely get where you're coming from as I had that in the past and it's now turned into adenomyosis :(. I've had 2 kids can attest to labor pains lol I would love to write this for you!! :). I will tag you when it's done :) ❤

[krispyalpacaduck]

Hello lovely, I was wondering if you take requests for Michael Morbius?

Hello! Thank you so much for reaching out! I do! What kind of fic would you like?

[artofdyingslowly]

how do you tell someone “i’m not ignoring you i’m just disconnected from reality right now and the days are all blurred together and i feel completely apathetic towards everyone/everything around me so it’s really hard for me to maintain a conversation” without saying that

[scrumptiousangst]

Brain broken. Still like you. Talk later

[gardens-light]

Spend A Night With The Doctor

Content: Minor spoilers for 'Morbius 2022'. Fluff.

You and Michael Morbius has not only known, but also has worked for each other for a long time. Out of most people in his life, you've known his work towards a cure for himself has never been so important. But when it came to human-trails, and performing a cure on himself... You just can't shake off something is wrong...

The pain has never been this bad before. But hunching over your lab equipment and slouching in the chair probably didn't help. The slight touch of Morbius' hands shakily run over your back, somewhat relaxed you.

But the pressure he applied in the massage, was barely pressure. The knots and aches in your muscles still remained, as his trembling touch was too weak to apply any pressure. After a moment he stopped and leaned back into his white leather chair.

"How was that?"

You pulled your t-shirt back over your torso, and adjusted your lab coat. "A lot better. Thanks"

He scoffed with a slight smile, "bullshit. You're such a bad lair."

You returned his smile, "alright, so I'm still a little stiff. But it doesn't matter. It's your turn anyways."

"No, forget it. There's still much more work to do."

Sighing and ignoring him, you wheeled Morbius slightly out of reach from his desk. Pulling his lab coat off his shoulders slowly, allowing it to gather at his waist. Your fingers slipped underneath the collar of his loose shirt, and massaged his shoulders and neck with firm, but gentle pressure.

"You know- ugh! This is a waste of time-oh!"

Pulling your hands from underneath the collar, and reaching for the hem of his shirt. Slowly rolling your knuckles in a circular motion along his back, being careful of his fragile form.

"Overworking yourself wont achieve anything. I know you're hellhound on finding a cure, but working yourself to death isn't the way."

Morbius chuckled, "sometimes your positivity is more annoying than sweet-oh! Fuck!"

"And that sarcasm of yours isn't that charming either."

The doctor gently stretched, feeling his muscles relax a little and his bones click into place. While wheeling himself back to his desk.

"Better?" You asked with a smile, while looking over his shoulder.

"Always."

Martine walked in, frowning as she watched you hug Morbius from behind. You paid no attention to her, only watching Morbius fill viles with his new cure. Containing vampire-bat DNA. It passed the animal trials, therefore he was going to take his research to the next level.

"Don't do this" whispering your plea into his ear, "it's dangerous. Highly experimental. Don't forget illegal." You hugged him tighter, feeling his bony frame.

"Y/N. You of all people should know how important this is to me."

"I have a bad feeling about this, Morbius.-"

"Everything is ready, Michael."

You glanced up at Martine with a narrowed stare. Straightening your posture, while Morbius collected his equipment.

A sickening feeling twisted in your gut, as Martine assisted him. Placing viles, containers. mixtures within a padded brief case. Computer work being saved onto a coded thumb-drive.

You grabbed Martine's hand, pulling her away from the desk. "If you cared about him, you wouldn't let him do this."

She scoffed at your plea, "if you cared about him! You'll understand why he needs to do this!"

"This is wrong. Something's not right"

"That's not your decision to make!"

Martine pushed you away, as she snatched the briefcase out of Morbius' hands. Allowing him to get a better grip on his crutches, which supported his weight, as he stood up.

"Ladies, I'm right here."

Morbius took a breath before looking at you. His course expression softening, as you gazed at him with a saddened face.

You knew more than anyone how important his research was. Throughout the years you've known him, you've watched this rare decease slowly kill him. Affecting his daily routine, despite how hard he pushed through.

But you just couldn't shake off this bad feeling in your gut. it twisted and turned your insides to a sickening point. Something was wrong.

Morbius could see that something plagued on your mind, reaching a unsteady hand towards your cheek. As Martine quickly wrapped an arm around his waist, attempting to support him better. He placed a gentle hand upon your cheek, stroking his thumb against your smooth skin.

"How about this? I'll leave with a promise." He cooed, "Not only to return better and cured. But we'll do anything you want! Go Anywhere!"

Placing a hand over his, trying to smile through the tears. "But we can do that now. Let's go to the movies. Go out for dinner. You're my best friend!... I don't want to lose you."

Martine turned up her nose and slowly pulled Morbius away from you. With a heavy heart, you watched them leave. Only to stand alone within the lab...

Two Days Later

"Police are baffled with today's mystery crime scene. Eight bodies dead, and one female in hospital in a stable condition. From a ship which drifted to shore. Reports say the victims were attacked and drained of their blood. More detail's at tonight's six o'clock news."

Coffee no longer settled your nerves. And the news certainly didn't help with the overthinking. You haven't heard, nor seen Morbius in days. You visited Martine in hospital, but she didn't shred any light on the situation.

At first, Martine didn't say much. Just simply complained about the hospital food, or changed the subject whenever you asked what happened. Sometimes she even remained completely silent. But soon, she refused visits and contact from you altogether. Doctor's refusing you entrance due to your last visit...

"Where is he?" your narrowed glare watched her eat some jelly, while Martine just complained about it. "What happened?"

"With private care and state of the art hospital. You'd think they'll provide better food."

Snatching the jelly tub from Martine, she finally met your stare. "Where is Morbius?!"

"I... don't know-"

"Bullshit! It's all over the news Martine! He's not at work, nor along the dead bodies!"

"I don't know where he is!"

"You should of listened to me! He's gone because of you!-"

"You're not a doctor! If he'd listened to you, he'll be dead because of it!"

Her remark hurt you more than you showed. Finally falling silent, Martine gazed at you. Her expression a mixture of sadness and annoyance. "Michael was in pain and dying every day!. Do you really think he cared about your love for him? Or did you believe he'll drop everything, thinking such a stupid thing could keep him going?."

Martine sat up, frowning as she snatched the jelly tub out of your hands. "Michael chose and wanted me! I was there during his important break through in his research!"

Tears rolled down your cheek, "and look what happened... He's missing and you're in hospital. I may not be a doctor, but all this could of been avoided, if you just listened..."

You shook the convocation out of your head, attempting to try and focus to get to work. Rain and wind swept through the streets, drenching your hair and face. The attempt of adjusting your fur-lined coat, and knitted scarf didn't do much. Droplets chilled you as they ran down the gap between your coat collar and skin. The only relief given, when you entered into the reception. Tapping your ID badge and showing it to the security guard.

Taking the lift to the third floor, sneaking through the halls which lead to Morbius' personal lab. Although you worked at the company, security only allowed you in, only if he was there. Y'know, Morbius being your boss and all.

Softly closing the glass doors as you quietly entered the lab. Strangely the soft white glow of the ceiling lights, lit up the labs- despite Morbius' absence. The bats continued to fly in their upward and downward, circular motion within their glass cylinder prison. Placing your bag upon his desk, what came to your sights confused you even more. Your eyes looking at the mess- knowing fair well it wasn't as the same as before. In fact, it wasn't even anything related to any of his medical research.

Instead, sketches of vampires from classic literature, multiple of opened books, exposing the lore of the creatures of the night.

"What... is this?" a mutter left you, as you picked up a piece of paper. Silently brief reading the 'Dracula' tale.

You were dumfounded and completely confused. "Who's been using Morbius' lab? And why this topic?.-"

"Y/N?"

A familiar voice froze you still. No... it can't be... You felt a gentle stare upon your back, and slow footsteps approaching you. Remaining frozen, the owner of the voice circled and faced you.

Your breath got stuck in your throat, the paper falling out of your hand, as your shocked stare fell onto the man which stood before you.

"Morbius?"

His gentle expression of concern gazed at you, while he remained speechless. Allowing you to process the view in front of you.

He stood steadily on his own two feet, not a wobble or quake in his legs. Morbius slouched a little-like he was somehow trying to make himself appear smaller. Less threatening? Maybe.

Although his button-up shirt was loose, you could still see the muscle definition that he certainly didn't have before. Anyone else would of mistaken him for a athlete in training. Even his hair seemed less greasy, as it was tied into a man-bun, with a few strains framing his face. You reached out to touch his face, Morbius welcomed your gentle touch and slightly leaned into your palm. He was warm, and had colour to his face.

Tears reached your watery eyes, "where have you been? I-I've been worried sick! Do you have any idea of how scared, and worried I've been?."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But right now, it isn't safe for you here.-"

"What?"

"You need to leave. Stay home!-"

"No!-"

"Y/N, please-"

You pulled away from him. Tears streaming down your face, as a frown remained on your lips. "What kind of apology is that? I've been lost and alone without you! Martine barely spoke, nor explained what happened! And on top, I see you for less than ten seconds, and I'm supposed to just leave?!."

Morbius bit his lip, "Y/N... I understand, and I'm so sorry to be the cause of your pain. And I promise I'll explain everything at another time. Please leave. It's not safe for you here!"

"No! I'm not going anywhere!-"

"I said leave!"

Taking another step backwards, as shock and fear flashed across your face. His brief expression of anger and twisted features, slowly relaxed as sadness washed over Morbius. He looked away from you, as he leaned on the desk. Your eyes widened as a realization hit you hard.

"You've become a vampire."

A heavy sigh left him, "yes... as I predicted my 'cure' worked. As you can see I'm fitter, stronger, healthier than I've ever been. But... as you predicted... something went wrong."

"This is the side effect.?"

Morbius nodded. "Including... the need to consume human blood. I've tried to get by on my artificial blood, but it only works for a few hours. And even that is dwindling."

He looked at you, "I am so sorry, Y/N. For everything. Not contacting you so you didn't worry, and leaving you scared. And worse of all... I'm sorry for not listening to you, when you tried to warn me. I should of taken you more seriously."

You sheepishly smiled, "well... I'm not a doctor, so... can't really make decisions based on 'gut feeling'.-"

Hurt softened his expression, "Did Martine say that to you?"

Your silence told him everything.

"Y/N. You are the most valuable person within this whole building! You may not be a doctor, but you're worth more than that to me! You're... important to me. Always have been."

Morbius cradled your face, rubbing the tears away with his thumbs. "I-I'm... important to you? Then... why didn't you show it?"

"I don't want you to give your heart to a dying man, Y/N. Our lives together would of been short. And now... it hurts even more, cause I can't let you give your heart to a monster-"

You silenced him with a tender kiss. Arms slowly wrapping around his neck, as Morbius' hands slid down to your waist and cradled you in a gentle embrace.

Breaking apart from the slow passion of his lips against yours. You smiled sweetly, "I will always give my heart to you. No matter what you say. I'll never leave, nor stop loving you."

[morbingtime]

@realitydenier

[krispyalpacaduck]

Dr. Morbius x Chubby Reader Fanfic Request Response

@sluttmeoutttt Hi I'm Keiarah & I was wondering could you possibly do a michael morbius x chubby reader with anxiety Maybe Dr. Morbius finds her while she's having a anxiety attack & he tries to help calm her down

@sluttmeoutttt I hope you like it! Please feel free to share and thank you so much again for your request!

Decency

“Hey, hey! Where’s the fire!” Dr. Morbius said, watching you run into the room.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! I hate being late! Not only does it throw me off, I throw off everyone else too! I would’ve been here sooner if people would’ve held the elevator open for me! I mean, how rude can someone be?! I just don’t get it! And all because I’m chubby? Why should that matter in being a decent human being?”

You were trying to calm down, but the staff interns' actions had you riled up. Your breathing was starting to increase rapidly, heart thumping in your chest.

"Great... like I needed an anxiety attack today."

“Y/N, easy… deep breaths.”

“I don’t mean to take this out on you. I’m just…so…ugh!” 

“Deep breaths and stand still.”

You hadn’t realized you were pacing the room, hands fisted in your hair. 

Taking a few moments to calm yourself, you say,  “Thank you.” as you take several deep breaths in and out.

“Of course.”

“I really mean it. No one else here would’ve bothered. It’s way too easy, and fun, to ridicule and make fun of me.”

“Oh, I’m sure they don’t mean anything by i-”

“Look at me!” You yell with more aggression than you had intended.

Michael’s eyes flew open in surprise.

“I’m sorry. I’m so tired of everyone saying that. ‘Oh, they don’t mean anything by it.’ or ‘Don’t worry about them. Just be you.’ I’m tired of being rejected and ridiculed, Michael!”

Morbius looked away and blew out a breath.

“Well, there goes my follow up statement.”

“It’s hard, Michael. It’s hard being a bigger girl. To be the “elephant in the room” in a sea of beautiful, skinny people.”

“Ah I see…” Michael said as he scooted closer to you.

“This is pretty here, right?” He asked, circling his hand around his face.

You nod, still practicing deep breathing.

Pointing to his heart, he said, “But what’s in here? Y’N, it’s rare to meet someone who is both beautiful and kind hearted. The looks they have are all they have. I once knew someone whose sister was always fawned after and all of her classmates would ask this person about her. She was never looked at like her sister was and it led to self-image issues that she struggles with to this day. I’m going to tell you exactly what I told her: they treat you the way they do: call you names, treat you like you’re different and undesirable, etc because they can’t handle you. You scare them because you’re real. Guys like that only want a pretty face. They don’t want someone who is smarter than them or can outthink them. That’s not someone you want, right? 

“That lifestyle might look glamorous, but inside? There’s a lot of emptiness. Those people have their own issues where they feel they have to be beautiful in order to get someone. They feel they’re not good enough to get someone on their own so they have to improvise and become someone they’re not. That, in time, corrupts the sense of self so they believe they are better than everyone else, smarter than everyone else, stronger than everyone else. They forget where they come from and forget who they used to be.

“Given the choice, I’d take the brains. Wouldn’t you?”

Sniffling, you wipe your eyes and nod.

“Come here.” Michael said quietly and pulled you into a tight hug.

As you pulled away from the hug, he grabbed your hand.

“If you’re insistent on looking the way they do, you know what you need to do. Change never came from someone wishing their life was different or they looked different or had a different lifestyle. Change takes work, but don’t change yourself to get some douchebag who only likes you for your looks. Do it because it’s what you want. If you like the way you are, stay that way. You have nothing to prove to anyone and you are amazing just the way you are. Don’t let those degenerates take away your confidence. Remember: people who bully others? There’s something wrong with them. Not you. Normal people don’t go around bullying others.”

Squeezing your hand, he looked straight into your eyes. 

“If you do this, never forget who you are. There are too many of those people and not enough genuine ones. Guaranteed those interns don’t last another 6 months. Once the full scope of the work hits them, they’ll walk and say, “It’s too hard.” 

He said the last part in a whiny voice. 

“We need people like you who actually care and who can tough it out for the good of the patient, not the fame, flashy cars, or social status. I mean, don’t get me wrong, those are nice perks, but they’re not everything.”

“Be like you, you mean. Turning down a Nobel prize? You’re insane.” You said chuckling with a sniffle. 

“What can I say? I have issues. But that’s the point. I could very easily drown in adoration and money and Nobel prizes. I don’t care about any of that. My only goal is to find a cure for the people who are like me. If I let fame, wealth and adoration go to my head, that goal may change and I don’t want that to happen.”

With tears in your eyes, you hugged him again and said, “Thank you, Michael. You always know what to say.”

[krispyalpacaduck]

Dr. Morbius x Chubby Reader Fanfic Request Response

@sluttmeoutttt Hi I'm Keiarah & I was wondering could you possibly do a michael morbius x chubby reader with anxiety Maybe Dr. Morbius finds her while she's having a anxiety attack & he tries to help calm her down

@sluttmeoutttt I hope you like it! Please feel free to share and thank you so much again for your request!

Decency

“Hey, hey! Where’s the fire!” Dr. Morbius said, watching you run into the room.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! I hate being late! Not only does it throw me off, I throw off everyone else too! I would’ve been here sooner if people would’ve held the elevator open for me! I mean, how rude can someone be?! I just don’t get it! And all because I’m chubby? Why should that matter in being a decent human being?”

You were trying to calm down, but the staff interns' actions had you riled up. Your breathing was starting to increase rapidly, heart thumping in your chest.

"Great... like I needed an anxiety attack today."

“Y/N, easy… deep breaths.”

“I don’t mean to take this out on you. I’m just…so…ugh!” 

“Deep breaths and stand still.”

You hadn’t realized you were pacing the room, hands fisted in your hair. 

Taking a few moments to calm yourself, you say,  “Thank you.” as you take several deep breaths in and out.

“Of course.”

“I really mean it. No one else here would’ve bothered. It’s way too easy, and fun, to ridicule and make fun of me.”

“Oh, I’m sure they don’t mean anything by i-”

“Look at me!” You yell with more aggression than you had intended.

Michael’s eyes flew open in surprise.

“I’m sorry. I’m so tired of everyone saying that. ‘Oh, they don’t mean anything by it.’ or ‘Don’t worry about them. Just be you.’ I’m tired of being rejected and ridiculed, Michael!”

Morbius looked away and blew out a breath.

“Well, there goes my follow up statement.”

“It’s hard, Michael. It’s hard being a bigger girl. To be the “elephant in the room” in a sea of beautiful, skinny people.”

“Ah I see…” Michael said as he scooted closer to you.

“This is pretty here, right?” He asked, circling his hand around his face.

You nod, still practicing deep breathing.

Pointing to his heart, he said, “But what’s in here? Y’N, it’s rare to meet someone who is both beautiful and kind hearted. The looks they have are all they have. I once knew someone whose sister was always fawned after and all of her classmates would ask this person about her. She was never looked at like her sister was and it led to self-image issues that she struggles with to this day. I’m going to tell you exactly what I told her: they treat you the way they do: call you names, treat you like you’re different and undesirable, etc because they can’t handle you. You scare them because you’re real. Guys like that only want a pretty face. They don’t want someone who is smarter than them or can outthink them. That’s not someone you want, right? 

“That lifestyle might look glamorous, but inside? There’s a lot of emptiness. Those people have their own issues where they feel they have to be beautiful in order to get someone. They feel they’re not good enough to get someone on their own so they have to improvise and become someone they’re not. That, in time, corrupts the sense of self so they believe they are better than everyone else, smarter than everyone else, stronger than everyone else. They forget where they come from and forget who they used to be.

“Given the choice, I’d take the brains. Wouldn’t you?”

Sniffling, you wipe your eyes and nod.

“Come here.” Michael said quietly and pulled you into a tight hug.

As you pulled away from the hug, he grabbed your hand.

“If you’re insistent on looking the way they do, you know what you need to do. Change never came from someone wishing their life was different or they looked different or had a different lifestyle. Change takes work, but don’t change yourself to get some douchebag who only likes you for your looks. Do it because it’s what you want. If you like the way you are, stay that way. You have nothing to prove to anyone and you are amazing just the way you are. Don’t let those degenerates take away your confidence. Remember: people who bully others? There’s something wrong with them. Not you. Normal people don’t go around bullying others.”

Squeezing your hand, he looked straight into your eyes. 

“If you do this, never forget who you are. There are too many of those people and not enough genuine ones. Guaranteed those interns don’t last another 6 months. Once the full scope of the work hits them, they’ll walk and say, “It’s too hard.” 

He said the last part in a whiny voice. 

“We need people like you who actually care and who can tough it out for the good of the patient, not the fame, flashy cars, or social status. I mean, don’t get me wrong, those are nice perks, but they’re not everything.”

“Be like you, you mean. Turning down a Nobel prize? You’re insane.” You said chuckling with a sniffle. 

“What can I say? I have issues. But that’s the point. I could very easily drown in adoration and money and Nobel prizes. I don’t care about any of that. My only goal is to find a cure for the people who are like me. If I let fame, wealth and adoration go to my head, that goal may change and I don’t want that to happen.”

With tears in your eyes, you hugged him again and said, “Thank you, Michael. You always know what to say.”

[dankmemeuniversity]

[lishadesu]

( ；∀；)

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Masterlist Henry Cavill + Characters

updated: 12/07/2021

Fic Ratings (read warnings in fic for details):

(G) General Audiences

(M) Mature

(E) Explicit: only suitable for adults

Thunder (E)

Working as Henry’s PA for 10 years you had seen it all. Literally. But when you visited him on the set of The Witcher in Budapest during a thunderstorm things escalated rather quickly.

Lay your hands on me (E)

Being together with Henry for over 5 years you were used to him bringing work home. But when you found him after work, emptying the dishwasher in full Witcher Make-Up (yes with the hair) you were looking forward to what the rest of the day would bring…

Keep quiet (E)

You were looking forward to being home with him. After weeks on the road,  all you wanted to do was have quiet evening hin, alone with Henry. But your friends had other ideas. Not that Henry would let the little fact that people were at home let him prevent to welcome you home in his own personal way…

Keep reading

[fvckinghenrycavill-deactivated2]

[satanicblowjobs]

Proving a point to my boyfriend.

PLEASE REBLOG if you (male or female) believe it is perfectly okay and natural for a guy of any age to cry

[trainingseasons]

Friendly reminder that this blog is pro-choice and if you don’t think everyone should have full control of their own body, then kindly unfollow me right now and go to hell

[krispyalpacaduck]

Hi I'm Keiarah & I was wondering could you possibly do a michael morbius x chubby reader with anxiety Maybe Dr. Morbius finds her while she's having a anxiety attack & he tries to help calm her down

Hi @sluttmeoutttt!! Thank you so much for your request! 🤗🤗🥰 I can absolutely do that for you, but it will most likely be a one-shot. Please give me a couple of days to get my thoughts together and I'll see what I can come up with! 🥰🥰🤗🤗

[maxbegone]

If anyone wants to know why I love and appreciate Taliesin Jaffe so much, here’s another reason to top off a very long list of reasons.