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thebigbiwolf · 11 months

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Spittle - Part 2/2 (Astarion/F!Reader)

Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.

Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.

This is what happens when you eat half the bar.

Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk),

Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence

Read Part 1: Here

Read on AO3: Here

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Wow. I'll try to make this brief. First of all, I just want to say thank you all so much for your continued support. I know this took me forever to write, but I've been going through a lot of emotional turmoil with school and some health issues with my animals. Your patience means so much to me, and I can only hope this lives up to everyone's expectations! This is my first time writing smut, and ngl I feel a bit like Icarus, so let me know if y'all liked it. Last, but not least, thanks again to my bestie/beta @imaginarydromedary for holding my hand through the shame.

Astarion sits quietly beside the fire, absently picking the dirt from beneath his manicured nails. The night had unfolded like countless others before it: boring, mundane. Uneventful.

Perhaps he should retire early. The Realm According to Bumpo sits patiently atop the desk in his tent, and if he heads to bed now, he could potentially finish a chapter before his watch begins.

He stands, patting the dust off his trousers, just as Shadowheart emerges from your tent. He initially doesn’t pay her any mind - fails to notice the concern etched across her face.

“Astarion.”

He snaps to attention, recognizing the fear in her voice.

Astarion’s stomach sinks when their eyes meet. Shadowheart isn’t normally one to succumb to panic, but she looks as though she’s just stumbled out of a wolf’s den.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. She - I’ve never seen…” Shadowheart pauses, taking a steadying breath. “She’s feverish. She was fine only hours ago. I heard a cry from her tent and feared something was amiss. When I found her, she…” The cleric hesitates, eyes contemplative - as if weighing exactly how much she wants to reveal.

“Out with it, damn it!”

“Is there any chance she’s been poisoned? You two stayed behind, back in the village. Did she come into contact with anything that might have pierced her skin?”

“Poisoned? No, she -” Astarion retraces the events, turning over your brief conversations in his head before landing on the only noteworthy detail he can think of.

He taps a finger on his chin, a thoughtful smile creasing his face. “Unless, of course, the Infernal chocolates didn’t agree with her.”

“I’m sorry, the what?”

“The chocolate she found at the apothecary. I assumed she hid it away so she could enjoy her little treat, unbothered. There was Infernal text on the wrapper.”

She stares at him with wide eyes, jaw slack with disbelief. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”

Astarion shrugs, unfazed.

“Where’s Wyll?”

He rolls his eyes. “How should I know? I’m not his keeper.”

“Astarion!”

“Oh, come on. That chocolate must have been at least a decade old. Are you certain this isn’t just some sort of stomach bug?”

The cleric shoves past him, groaning in exasperation. She shoots him a glare and mutters, “I’m certain,” before jogging in the direction of Wyll’s tent.

“Infused with succubus spittle. Just one bite will have you and that special someone rolling around for hours. Consume responsibly."

Astarion giggles boyishly. “An aphrodisiac? How fun.”

Wyll squints as he silently reads the next bit to himself, fingers tracing the text. He turns to Shadowheart, jaw tightening, "How much of this did you say she ingested?"

"I only found half the bar."

Wyll’s expression grows more serious. "This says the recommended serving size is one square… How many squares were left?"

“Oh, gods…” she breathes, "Six."

The three exchange silent, worried glances.

“Could she die from this?” Shadowheart asks, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Wyll’s lips press into a thin line. In truth, he doesn’t know the answer. He could ask Mizora for guidance, but the devil’s been awfully silent after his recent failures. He isn’t sure she'd be willing to answer him, let alone grant any favors. Still, it may be worth a call.

Just as Wyll’s about to suggest it, Astarion heaves a deep, dramatic sigh, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“Alright, I know what we’re all thinking. I’ll take care of this.”

The other two regard each other, thoroughly confused.

“Look," Astarion explains, I may not be well-versed in magic, or magical remedies, for that matter, but now that we know what’s causing this… I think it’s obvious what needs to be done.”

“You’re joking.” Shadowheart laughs, incredulously.

“No,” he continues, “We can’t just sit here and hope for the best. We need to act quickly, and let's just say, this fits into my... skill set.”

“So, you’re going to, what? Have sex with her? You think she’ll be capable of saying anything but yes, given the state she’s in?”

Astarion shoots her a glare. The mere thought that he’d ever so much as suggest doing something like that - bedding you when you’re too weak to reject him - the very idea of it makes him sick.

He isn’t that evil.

“Watch your tongue,” he spits at her, “before I do us all the favor of removing it.”

“Hang on, you two,” Wyll interjects, “Astarion, I think you might have a point. You would know better than anyone whether she’s in a right enough state of mind to… consent to this. You’re closest to her. She trusts you.”

He turns to Shadowheart, “It’s worth a try.”

Astarion notices two things as he pulls back the flap of your tent.

The first is that it is unseasonably warm. Scorching hot, like summer. A stark contrast from the welcoming cool of the early spring night behind him.

And second, that the air in the tent is heavy - heady with the scent of sweat and something else he can’t quite identify. It's clouding his senses, making his head swim. The taste of it settles on his tongue, like salt on the rim of an otherwise very sweet drink.

The moonlight at his back casts a dark shadow over your sleeping form. Astarion hesitates for a moment, taking in the sight of you, vulnerable and oblivious to his presence, feeling too much like a wolf looming over a snared rabbit.

You twitch, grimacing in pain.

He frowns. This wasn’t the way he wanted to go about seducing you. His plan was much more sophisticated: a carafe of wine, a few honeyed words leading to a night of passion, your endless thanks, all culminating in some well-earned release and his assured protection.

A mutual exchange.

But, this?

He’s roused from his thoughts by another grunt, escaping from between your clenched teeth.

Whatever you’re going through, it looks like hell.

Ugh. You know what? Fine. Maybe this isn’t the way he envisioned it, but when has life ever blessed him with a perfect scenario? He’ll offer his… services, and respect whatever answer you give him. If you refuse him now, he can always try again later. Under less perilous circumstances, provided you survive the night.

And if not, well, he's never been one to play the hero, but at least he tried.

He steps further inside, closing the entrance behind him. The moment he seals the tent shut, there is a palpable shift. The space feels infinitely heavier, laden with unnatural energy, reminiscent of anticipation, but just slightly… off.

He breathes, trying to focus on anything but that intoxicating scent. The haze of it is maddening.

The elf sits on his knees beside you, hands resting in his lap.

He clears his throat, hoping the sound would be enough to wake you.

There’s no response.

He whispers your name.

Nothing.

No choice, then.

He drums a finger against your bare arm.

The cleric was right. Your skin is so hot, it borders on scalding.

Finally, you begin to stir.

Again. It happened again.

As soon as you closed your eyes to rest, you saw him - That thing that wore his skin. You felt his hands and mouth as he ravaged you until you fell apart beneath him, above him, wrapped around him, like he was everywhere all at once.

He was demanding as he took pleasure from you. Ravenous. Mocking your cries, your begging.

The hours stretched into what felt like lifetimes, and you’d nearly given up hope, resigning yourself to the idea that this was your new, endless reality.

Until suddenly, you hear a voice that pulls you from the dark recesses of your subconscious-- the very voice being used to torture you

Your name, uttered quietly by Astarion. Just Astarion. No second, more sinister layer beneath it.

Your eyelids flutter, then widen as a chilling realization washes over you.

He’s touching you. The pads of his fingers are both a balm and an irritant, soothing and igniting the flames licking at the corners of your mind.

“You look like you’ve seen better days.” He teases.

You recoil from his touch, sitting upwards and crawling back away from him.

He can’t be here. He, of all people, can’t be here.

And yet, something within you is screeching in delight.

'That’s him, isn’t it? The object of your desires? How fun!’

You swallow. Hard.

“Astarion, I -”

He holds up a hand, silencing you. “I’m aware.”

“Shadowheart informed us of your… predicament,” he continues, “I can’t help but feel partly responsible, seeing as I was there when you found the chocolate -”

“The chocolate? Is that - wait, what?”

Shit. Your head is pounding.

You press your palms against your eyes and groan.

“I’ll spare you the details, but that chocolate was laced with succubus spittle - a highly potent aphrodisiac - and you, my dear, have consumed enough to bring an entire brothel to its knees.”

Your eyes snap open, meeting his own. There isn’t an ounce of humor in his tone. No sign of his usual mischief.

Gods, he’s being fucking serious.

“Now, as amusing as this might be if it were anyone else, I’d prefer it if our party’s leader made it out of this alive, and that leaves us with a choice."

You gaze at him silently, waiting as the candlelight paints his sharp features in warm hues of amber and honey.

'He’s quite handsome. I see why you like him.’

“You can ride this out alone,” Astarion explains, “Shadowheart will return with her best salves and more potions for the fever. We’ll hope this passes quickly, but Wyll’s translation suggests the amount you consumed could leave you in this state for up to a week.”

Your stomach churns. You’re going to be sick.

“And the alternative?” you manage to ask.

His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining with your own. Your skin prickles at the contact.

“The alternative is that you let me help you through this. Consider it a repayment, of sorts, for gifting me your blood. I’m somewhat of an expert on… well,” he lets out a humorless laugh, “let’s just say, I’m the best chance you’ve got.”

Maybe it's the blood roaring in your ears, or maybe you’re still dreaming, but it sounds like Astarion is offering to… fuck you?

“I’m sorry, what?”

He groans, visibly frustrated. “Sex, my dear. If the magic is compelling you to have it, I think we should listen.”

‘Handsome and smart.’

You hiss, “Would you please shut up?”

Astarion squints. “What was that?”

“Nothing, sorry.” You clear your throat. “Listen, I - I get what you’re trying to do. I appreciate it, really, but -”

Pain lances through your abdomen, a sharp, icy shard that interrupts your words. You clutch at your side, releasing Astarion’s hand before falling helplessly on your back, twisting in agony.

He inches closer, voice tinged with urgency. “We’re running out of time. If you want my help, it's best to ask now, because as much as I love the idea of you begging for me to bed you, I won’t be comfortable doing this unless you agree to this while you’ve still got your wits about you.”

Tears sting the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision at the edges. He’s right. You don’t think you can endure this alone, and as much as you fucking hate to admit it, the damned succubus magic - that thing - is right.

You do desire him. You’ve wanted him since the moment you met beside the nautiloid. Now here he is, offering to alleviate your suffering.

There’s just one part of his offer that you can’t quite come to terms with.

“I didn’t let you drink from me because I was hoping you’d repay me.” Your voice warbles, wet and stressed, “I can’t have sex with you if it’ll just be part of some ridiculous transaction. Not with anyone, and certainly not with you.”

His expression softens as your words sink in. It’s a confession, of sorts. The kind he’s wholly unfamiliar with. It stuns him almost to the point of speechlessness.

“My apologies. Believe me, it was more of an excuse than anything. I didn’t mean to suggest…” He lets his words trail off, shaking his head. You two can revisit this conversation later, when time isn’t of the essence. “It doesn’t matter. I want to do this. Let me help you.”

The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver up your spine.

It’s clear he means this.

He means every word.

You nod. “Okay.”

Astarion clears his throat, rolling the tension off his shoulders.

“Good. Now that we’ve got that taken care of,” he says as he throws one of his legs over your waist, straddling you, “Why don’t you lie back and let me take care of this, hm?”

His posture is relaxed. Confident. He regards you with hooded eyes and the faintest hint of a smirk. It’s quite the sight, one you’d enjoy significantly more if your body wasn’t busy screaming for his attention.

His deft hands make quick work of the laces of your shirt, and with every string that loosens, your composure unravels further. You squirm, unable to resist the heat that teases your skin and the growing itch beneath it.

As if Astarion can sense your rising panic, he places a cool palm against your burning cheek, his touch both gentle and practiced as he rubs smooth circles at the dip of your temple.

“Relax, dear,” he whispers, both a request and a command. The gentle lilt in his voice masks the underlying authority, but your body obeys all the same, tension releasing from your muscles. “I’ve got you.”

Astarion quickly rids you of the offending fabric, chest and stomach now bared to him. His eyes scan over your form with focused intensity, lips pinched between his teeth, like an artist deciding what to make of their blank canvas.

“Normally, I’d take my time with this,” he admits, “but given the circumstances…” He swiftly undoes the buttons of your trousers before yanking them off along with your smallclothes. One single, fluid motion.

He can’t hide the mild shock that follows when he sees the state of you - dripping wet, red and pulsing with need.

He dips the tip of his finger between your folds. It glides over velvet skin, coating the digit in warm, wet slick. A strangled, pitiful noise escapes from your throat.

For a moment, Astarion’s calculated expression falters, surprised by the rate at which your body opens itself up to him. A glint of hunger lurks beneath the surface.

“This may be easier than I thought.” He says with a smirk, more to himself than to you.

He presses two digits in, slow and intentional. There’s no resistance; A knife through warm butter. You’re dripping down his knuckles, gripping around him like a vice. He slides all the way in until the heel of his palm meets your clit.

“Breathe.”

Not even realizing you’d been holding your breath, you release it with a shutter.

“Very good.” He punctuates his words with the slow drag of his fingers. Long, languid movements. He’s taking his sweet time with you, pulling scandalous little cries from your lips. It’s like he’s toying with you - seeing how long you can hold out before breaking.

It doesn’t take much time at all.

“Astarion -”

“Yes?”

“Please.”

“Please, what? What do you need, darling?” His eyes are fixed on your own, grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. A cat playing with a cornered mouse.

“More. Anything.”

He hums in approval, then wets the pad of his thumb on his tongue before drawing circles exactly where you need. Heat coils at the base of your spine, forming a ball of tension that threatens to snap.

The sheer intensity of it is enough to scare you, caught between the urge to chase the sensation or flee from it. “Astarion, I -”

He ignores your warning as if he hadn’t heard it, plunging his fingers into your heat and curling them - expertly caressing a spot that threatens to shatter you. Your hands fly out, gripping the fabric of his shirt, the sheets beneath you, anything in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

“Go on, love. Let it out. I’ve got you.”

Your body seizes as your orgasm tears through you, igniting every one of your oversensitive nerves. Back arching off the bedroll, several strangled sounds - almost pained - rip from your throat. The pleasure threatens to tear you apart, but the thick fog of lust occupying your mind begins to subside, offering the slightest bit of clarity as you twitch beneath him.

Astarion grabs you by the jaw, tilting your head this way and that, admiring his handiwork. He's quite pleased with himself, with the mess he's made of you - jaw slack and brows pinched. He coaxes out the aftershocks, watching you squeeze around his fingers.

"There,” he gives you a playful pat on the cheek, "You're looking better already."

"You're - agh - enjoying this too much."

"I never said I wasn't going to enjoy it."

A beat of silence passes between the two of you as he allows you to catch your breath. For a moment, you think the coast is clear - that maybe, this was as far as things had to go. This was what the magic was compelling you to do, or at the very least - it was close enough. You fulfilled its wishes. Surely.

But then he pulls out of you, and the second you feel the vacuum of emptiness where his fingers once were, that voice in your head is screeching like some sort of petulant child. It pouts, waggling its non-existent finger in your direction. The demanding bitch.

Part of you, instinctually, realizes that this is just the beginning - that you’re simply at the edge of the shore watching the tides recede while a devastating wave builds somewhere in the distance.

“What is it? Does it still hurt?” Astarion asks, breaking the silence, and you realize that no, it doesn’t. Not like before, at least.

You shake your head.

“Good. I’d wager that means this is working.” He smiles triumphantly, working the laces of his own clothes, and ridding himself of the final layers between you, revealing an intricate network of muscle beneath. For a man who’d supposedly been starved for the last two centuries, he certainly doesn’t look the part.

Astarion nudges your legs apart with his thigh, then settles between your knees, dragging the head of his cock between your folds. He hums in approval, admiring the sight as he coats himself in your slick. It practically drools out of you.

There’s no resistance when he dips himself into your entrance.

His eyes scan over your face, searching for any discomfort, but all he finds is need.

So, he presses in further.

“Shit, you -”

He hisses, sucking in a sharp breath as he bottoms out, then takes a moment, eyes pinched shut, collecting himself.

He slides out, just an inch or so, before plunging back in, buried as deeply as he can reach. It’s so damn easy, the sinfully wet mess you’ve left all over his cock allowing him to glide in and out, tilting his hips with each thrust.

The stretch of him is perfect, like you were made for this - made to take him. His length rubbing and dragging against your walls acts like a balm, relaxing your body as you swallow and grip him in scorching heat.

He grabs one of your thighs, pressing it into your chest - the new angle allowing him to sink even deeper into your core.

It isn’t long before you’re begging him for more, digging your heels into the curve of his back.

Astarion starts pounding into you - a new, brutal pace spurred on by your encouragement and the wet, filthy slap of his skin against yours. The sounds reverberate off the canvas of your tent, blending with your choked sobs. You just know your companions are going to have something to say about this in the morning, but you honestly can’t bring yourself to care.

The only thing that matters now is the man above you - his nails digging into the flesh of your ass, whispering how good you feel. How well you’re taking him, “Like you were made for this - for me.” His grunts are like music to your ears, drowning out all other thoughts as his chest vibrates against your own.

It’s all too much.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you before you have a chance to warn him, but he feels the way you flutter around his cock and acts on instinct - snaking his fingers between your bodies and rubbing your clit in quick circles.

You throw your head back with a cry, shaking beneath him, and grip him like a vice as you come. The force of it slams into you, hot and devastating, tightening every muscle within its wake. You wind your limbs tightly around the hard planes of Astarion’s body as he rolls his hips into you, slow and deep.

You can feel him twitching inside you, his rhythm suddenly stuttering with each thrust. Something tells you he’d come now, if you’d allow him.

But where?

'Where else?'

The very idea of him not spilling every drop he has inside of you disturbs you nearly to the point of panic, and with that, you finally understand what this damned succubus has been demanding of you this entire time.

“Astarion, please. I need you.”

“Where?” he asks, voice muffled, panting hot and open-mouthed against the swell of your shoulder.

“Inside,” you beg, “Please. Please - It’s alright.”

He shudders, surging up into you one last time with a strangled grunt. Holding onto your hips, he pulses within you, the warmth of his release filling you to the brim, until a thick white ring of come forms at the base of his length. You can’t help but clench around him, moving to match his previous pace and trying desperately to wring as much out of him as you can, until it begins to seep out onto the sheets beneath you.

It isn’t until he stills inside of you that you release your hold on him. The two of you take a minute to collect yourselves, waiting for your heart to settle and listening to Astarion’s ragged breaths.

He lifts his weight off of you with a grunt, settling back on his knees.

“That was - agh,” he shivers as he pulls out of you. You don’t even want to look at the mess.

“I’m going to have to burn these sheets, aren’t I?” you ask, sitting up on your shoulders.

He throws his head back with a genuine, hearty laugh, and cards his fingers through his dampened hair.

This is the most relaxed you think you’ve ever seen him - not a scowl line in sight. He rolls his shoulders, and sighs at the subsequent pop before turning his focus back on you.

“I’ll have you know,” Astarion muses, “I’ve done this more times than I can count— but this, my dear,” he chuckles, “This was one for the books.”

“So, was sleeping with me everything you could have possibly imagined?” It’s an obvious joke, given your tone. An offer to squash any chance of this happening again, should he wish to. An exit.

He hums playfully. “Well, next time I think I’d prefer the subtle influence of wine over a mind-altering aphrodisiac, if it's all the same to you.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Did he just offer to do this again? Well, not exactly, but -

“And how are you feeling?” Astarion asks.

Better, is the honest answer. Slightly confused and deeply embarrassed, but better.

The apologies you’ll have to make after the night’s over seem endless, both to him and to Shadowheart for all the trouble you caused. Not to mention the others, who’ve probably had the sound of your squealing burned into their memories forever. The idea of it is daunting.

“Because if you’re still reeling from any nasty, lingering effects,” he continues, “I’m sure I could be… persuaded to help again.”

Oh.

Hm.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

Tag List (sorry if I missed anyone! I only added you if you explicitly asked to be tagged): @daedriclys @captain039 @sushiumex @sugasweettea @marauders-moon @starlightelegy @ablxssm @the-lake-is-calling

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion #astarion acunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion fanfic #astarion x you #spittle

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luveline · 9 months

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Hello lovely jade! Can I please request something with Hotch and shy!reader where she just wants him to stroke her hair but is struggling to ask? Love you xx

Lean on me if you're tired, he'd said.

You couldn't think of a way to say no, didn't want to, so now your cheek is pressed to Hotch's shoulder and your skin tingles each time he moves, reminded of how close you are. Hotch has held you much closer than this, wouldn't have offered his shoulder as a pillow otherwise, but it's still egregiously nerve-wracking.

And it opens the door for more longing.

“How much longer?” you ask quietly.

The dark sky outside and the dim light of the jet demands gentleness.

“An hour.” He reaches for your thigh, letting his hand rest there, not quite flat. “You can sleep. I'll wake you up when we get there.”

“Maybe I will,” you murmur, turning your face further into his arm.

His hand brushes slowly down to your knee. You'd tried to sleep already and had no luck. Hotch —or Aaron, as he insists you call him whenever you're alone— could have you sleeping in minutes if he'd just do that thing he does in bed, your heads on his pillows, his elbow behind your back. He pats your hair so particularly in that it's an unmeasured touch. He changes rhythm, pressure, never too fast or rough but non-continuous. It's unlike him, and it never fails to soothe you to sleep.

“What's wrong?” he whispers.

He sounds different when he talks to you outside of work. Sometimes on cases too, he slips into a different voice to accompany his different roles. Right now, he's loving boyfriend, and his affection for you is a breezy, sweet tone.

“Nothing, I just can't sleep.”

“No?” He kisses the soft of your cheek. “Is there something keeping you up?” You fluster immediately at his kiss and he knows you will. He gives your leg a sorry touch. “Let me put my arm behind you.”

“Actually, could you…” Awkwarder not to ask now, frozen on the tongue, you realise how stupid and vulnerable it is to want him to stroke your hair, how he should offer something like that voluntarily, not because you forced him to. “I would…”

“What?” he asks, lifting his hand to your chin. He pinches it between his thumb and forefinger gently.

“It's silly.”

“Hmm.” He hums, looking down at you, eyes practically boring into yours. He smiles knowingly after a moment. “You want me to do something,” he teases.

Your breath catches. You turn your face down into the chair, mortified, because he can't not have heard it, but he doesn't tease again. His arm pushes behind your back, wrapping around your shoulders, and his hand covers your ear as he pulls you into his side. It's not the most comfortable of positioning until you curl into him and wrap your own arm around his waist.

“Try to sleep,” he says, as his fingers rise to the top of your ear, and then pass over your hair. He strokes a long, steady line, and when he gets to the base of your head he moves his hand back to the top. He strokes your hair for as long as it takes for you to fall asleep, and a little while after, too.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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psychesalcove · 2 months

Note

ֶָ֢ "it's nice that your voice was the first thing i heard today,"

hiiii! can i request a luke castellan x fem reader fic, the scenario being luke just woke up after the quest gone wrong (when he got the scar on his face) and reader is the first one he hears. she’s aphrodite’s daughter but she’s the one cleaning his wound in the infirmary. you can spin it however you like💗 just want some luke castellan fluff (w/ a bit of angst💗) where he confides in reader, and he cries but hides it by nuzzling in her neck, she’s just a comforting gf that feels her neck become damp.

luke castellan x daughter of aphrodte reader

my writes are completely race and body type friendly! feel free to interact my loves:)

part of psyches, 'in memory of those who chose the sea' event

-> want to participate in the event?

an: babes this is suchhh a cute idea for luke omg!! i love detailed asks its amazing n' your ideas are stunning, bueatiful, and everything!! i had so much fun writing this, hope you enjoy! and again, sorry for not writing sooner, i was camping with my family and had no wifi lmao 😓 love ya 🩷 ps. I also did like a lot of writing for this,, so I hope u don't mind lovie!!

you hummed quietly to yourself as you wrapped up a child of ares arm; according to them, they had gotten distracted and accidentally went up against a sword. you patted their arm to signify you were finished. once they got up, you walked over to will.

'how's he doing?' you asked, leaning against the counter will was sitting at. luke, your boyfriend, had a rough go of it on a recent quest. you weren't all sure of what happened; as he passed out before he could get a coherent sentence said. you did catch some words: hermes. hurts. and some other ones that you couldn't quite make out.

will looked up from the pile of paperwork he was reading. 'better. he's still not 100%; but he's making recovery. i'm not exactly sure when he'll wake up,' he explained, briefly scanning the paperwork to make sure he said the correct information.

you hummed, eyes also going down to the paperwork to scan it over. 'do you think i should be with him, when he wakes up?' you asked, eyes going up to meet wills.

'i'll give you the rest of the day off, how about that?' he asked, though it sounded more like a statement. he could probably sense your anxiety about luke and his wellbeing. 'i think he'll be happy to see you,' will gave you a soft smile before his attention went back to his paper.

you thanked him and quickly made your way over to the back of the infirmary; where the private cots were. you gently pulled back the curtain and was met with the same sight that you saw last. luke was laying on the bed, bandages wrapped around his face due to the injury that was on his eye.

you quickly sat down in a chair, prepared to spend however long you would need to wait for luke to wake up.

—

as you looked out the window at camp; a light squeeze on your hand drew your attention back to luke. you smiled softly when you saw him staring back at you, even with one eye. 'hi hon,' you whispered gently, hand squeezing his back.

he didn't say anything, instead smiling a little at you as a response. you took that as he didn't want to talk; especially about the quest he just got back from. you opted to ask a question on a different topic.

'd'you want a hug?'you whispered again, hand still in his. all you got in response was a light nod of the head, a nod you would've missed if you weren't pouring all your attention into him. you removed your hand from his and quickly wrapped your arms around him, holding luke in a protective embrace.

his head quickly found its way to your neck; both of you being mindful of the bandages still on his face. as soon as both of you settled into the hold, lukes shoulders started shaking lightly. in cue, you felt wetness on your neck, along with lukes heavy breathing drying the wetness; though the tears were quickly being replaced by new ones.

you tightened your grip around him. luke rarely cried: you assumed it was the pressure of being a good role model for the younger campers, or even who he associated with at camp. you shuttered lightly at the thought of what must have happened on that quest for him to react like this.

before you could attempt comforting him, he spoke through his quiet sobs. 'im, i'm really sorry for this,' you heard him mumble quietly as his breath picked up even more.

you shook your head softly at him. 'luke, hon. you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. quests can be hard, they're made to be. its okay to be scared of them. it's natural, completely normal.' you said, hand starting to rub small circles onto his upper back in an attempt to comfort him.

you couldn't tell how long the two of you stayed in that position; you holding onto him like he was your lifeline and luke holding back just as hard. slowly though, his sobs started to subside, and his breathing returned to normal. throughout him crying, you decided not to try and get him to stop, knowing that this crying session was long overdue.

luke seemed to think that he calmed down enough, as he gently pulled out of the embrace. as the two of you stared at eachother, he opened his mouth. 'it's nice that your voice was the first thing i heard today,' he said, a small joking tone to it.

you smiled lightly. 'are you okay?' you asked, ignoring his past comment; knowing it was probably a way to steer the conversation around what just happened.

he sighed deeply, the eye that wasnt covered closing as he layed down again. 'yeah. m'sorry about my, uh. episode. the quest was just a lot.' he chuckled, opening his eye again. 'i love you,'he added, flashing you a quick smile.

you sighed, grabbing his hand and brining it into your embrace again. 'it's okay to have episodes like that love. it's human; you should honestly do it more often.'you hummed gently, rubbing circles onto his knuckles.

luke only nodded lightly in response; seemingly drifting off to sleep once again.

'i love you to, luke.' you mused, pushing up out of the chair and pressing a gentle kiss to his noninjured side of his face.

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bluecollarmcandtf · 9 months

Text

Construction Dog Co.

Each one of these dumb brutes belongs to me! They once had their own lives and careers, but I replaced all that with the blind obedience of a dog. My words dictate their reality, so they'll believe anything I say. That's why it seems perfectly normal for them to wait like this every morning. They'd kneel there all day if I let them, but they need to work eventually!

"Get off your knees, dogs! Hop to work! It's the only thing you're good for!" I yell it with venom, but I relish seeing my words soaking in into their minds. With just a simple command, I've convinced them all that they are animals, good only for hard work and manual labor.

The men rush to their feet, scrambling to pick up where they'd left off yesterday. I don't bother understanding the minor details of their day to day responsibilities. I have different boys programmed to manage all that crap for me. I really only bother watching them sweat their days away.

Being the supervisor can get a bit boring, especially after hearing, "Thank you, boss. I love you, boss," for like the seventh time in a day. It kind of loses it's meaning after awhile.

That's why I often use them for entertainment. Watch this!

"Hey, you two!" I call, pointing at two sweaty workers nearby, "You're in love with each other. Make out!"

Despite being hot and exhausted, the two men drop their tools and perk up. When they meet each other's eyes it's like they're seeing one another for the first time. They practically slam their bodies together in a race to each other's throat, and within seconds the two guys are lost in a world of dirt, saliva, and lust.

I do this with my men often, but who could blame me! I handpicked each one of them because they were strong and hot. If they're going to be hypnotized work slaves, then I need to enjoy how they look.

"You too aren't doing anything else but each other for the rest of the day," I command with a laugh, "Got it?"

"Yes, sir," their replies are moaned out between breaths.

A lot of my laborers were straight before they met me, but these two were creeps about it. I think I found them at the gym, hitting on girls between every set. I obviously enjoyed erasing their raunchy personalities. I find it even more enjoyable watching them grope and slobber over each other, knowing that those bodies would've never done that before I came along.

Those jagoffs are just the beginning of my day! I leave them after they've tumbled to the ground, humping each other like the dumb animals they are.

"You there!" I point to a different guy, quietly stacking blocks nearby, "Get over here and clean the floor as I walk. These Timberlands are brand new and I don't want mud on them."

"Yes, sir," the worker answers and rushes over, throwing himself to the ground before me.

I chuckle and study the poor loser in front of me. With just a few short words, I have him scrubbing a place for me to walk like I'm his king. I scoff in disbelief when I finally recognize who the guy was.

"Wait, are you that jerk from the bank?"

"Yes, sir," he admits quietly, keeping his head lowered towards his work.

"Well shit, you've come a long way! Can you believe that a week ago you were some fancy banker who tried to deny me a loan?" I give his head a little nudge with the toe of my shoe, "This is a much better place for you...uh... Robert...or was it Roger?"

"Reggie, sir," he quickly corrects me.

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore," I scowl at him, "Forget your name. You're just a construction dog, now. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Who are you?"

"I'm...I'm just a construction dog." I can tell he believes it now, too. I'm probably the only one here that knows his real name, and I'll definitely forget it within a few days.

"Good boy," I pat him on the head, "Now, you're going to stay ahead of me and keep clearing the floor for me to walk."

Reggie mumbles "Yes, sir," and crawls forward to scrub away the dirt in my immediate vicinity. Continuing on my tour, the poor guy struggles to keep up on all-fours, but a good work animal must get used to that position.

By the end of the day, my entire pack of men is sweaty and exhausted. I usually make them all work the maximum shift with no breaks, so it makes sense for them to be tired. Still, they are programmed to come and kneel before me, waiting to be dismissed. They're all a bit antsy for a rest, but I like to test their patience.

"Alright, boys. You're dismissed for the night."

With a collective groan, they climb back to their feet, marching off to the bunk house.

The bunk house is where I keep them when they aren't working. It might seem tight but each guy has enough room to sleep; although, I make them share because I don't want to purchase anymore bunk spaces. I don't really like to spend any money on them. They have access to the porta-john out back, but otherwise they aren't allowed to go anywhere else. I also only gave them the clothes they work in, so they sleep in them too.

Needless to say, it stinks in there. Between the heat, body odor, unwashed clothes, and lack of showers, they've created quite the stench. I avoid their home as much as I can, but sometimes my curiosity gets the best of me. This is the first time I've seen it in weeks.

"Come on boys, don't look so glum!" I chastise them, "Smile! Act like you're happy to see me!"

I watch as a switch goes in each of their minds. Slowly, they snap out of their foggy eyed depression, and light up. The energy of the room transforms as reassuring smiles spread across each of their manly faces.

"That's better! You boys are a tight-knit team! You love each other!" I add, "You don't mind the back-breaking work, or the smell, or anything as long as you're together."

The men become even more at ease, relaxing into the arms of their coworkers. My heart is warmed a little, seeing them getting along with each other so well. They're acting like energetic little puppies now.

I'm ready to leave them for the night. It's time for me to return to my luxury condo down the street, but before I do, I catch sight of one of my workers. An idea springs into my head.

"You, there. Come with me."

"Yes, sir," he answers, though he seems genuinely disappointed to be leaving his buddies.

I lead him outside and hose him off to remove at least some of the mud and sweat. We walk all the way to my apartment. Luckily, he's mostly dry by then so I take him inside.

"Is this going to take awhile, sir?" he asks nervously, "I'm pretty tired and my bedmate is going to sleep soon."

"Shut up and get on the bed," I command.

His mouth snaps shut and he obediently approaches my soft king bed, crawling onto it like I told him to. I sigh when I notice that the stupid oaf still tracked a lot of mud in. I'll have to make him clean it all up later.

"Now, you aren't going to speak or move unless I tell you too," I instruct, "But you will realize that anything I do will be exactly what you want: no matter what I do..."

He gazes back at me numbly.

"Tell me you understand."

"I understand, sir," he instantly repeats.

Tonight is going to be a long night for him. Too bad he still has to wake up early and report to work. I'm already planning on sleeping in. I don't mind keeping my workers waiting for a few hours while I rest. It's my company after all, and they're just dogs for labor...

#gay mind control #construction worker #humiliated slave #gay hypnosis #gay ai art

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timeslugarts · 14 days

Text

Grunkle Stan x Reader What happens when you see Stan after his memory is wiped?

A/N: idk if this is any good, I literally just had this idea and to get it out, so here you go, I guess.

“What do you mean he lost his memory?” You look from Stan sitting on the chair to Ford who stands twiddling his fingers.

You had been left behind in The Shack as the others went to Bill's lair to rescue Ford. You don't remember much having been knocked unconscious from Bill tearing the giant mech apart, but when you awoke you lay by Stan's recliner everything exactly how it's always been, light gently streaming in through the windows, sounds of crickets and birds just outside. Like nothing had happened at all.

That is until Ford and the kids returned, guiding Stan to his usual seat. You were so relieved, tears burning your eyes. They were all home, they were all safe. Stan was alive.

You had rushed into his arms as he sat on the chair. Your knees hitting the floor as you wrapped yourself around his middle. That's when you knew something was wrong. Stan had stiffened at your touch, an awkward arm coming around patting you gingerly on the back.

Your head whipped up making eye contact with Stan who was looking back at you with uncertainty. A soft blush dusting the tips of his ears, under normal circumstances this would have been very cute, but not now.

Ford spoke up, “He saved us all, but in order to do so we… we had to wipe his memory.”

“It can't be gone, there has to be something we can do!” Mabel yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. She ran out of the living room in a flurry of hiccups and potential ideas to get Stan's memory.

“I don't understand,” you breathed, “wipe his memory?” But you knew, you understood perfectly well. You just refused to believe it.

Ford walked over to you and gently put a hand on your shoulder, “he saved everyone in Gravity Falls, he's a hero. He's a hero and he doesn't even know it.”

The dam broke and you felt yourself begin to cry. “He was always a hero,” you looked back into his eyes, nothing was there, no recognition, he had no idea who you were. “You were my hero.”

Stan finally had to look away, even in his state of amnesia he still couldn't take a compliment.

You chuckled pathetically.

Standing on shaky legs you made your way onto the back porch and collapsed, you balled yourself and began to sob. Quietly, you didn't want anyone to heat you, even though they very well knew what you were doing.

A stretch of time passed and you had finally managed to cry yourself out. Your eyes still burned but you were just looking at the sky as it quickly became dusky.

The screen door screeched open and shut behind you. You didn't bother to look, it had to have been Ford checking in on you.

“Listen doll-”

Your eyes slid over to Stan as he grunted sitting on the porch next to you. Seeing his face with no recognition of you hurt so much you almost began to cry again. At least he was alive, you kept telling yourself.

“I may not remember you, but I can tell you were someone special to me.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes understatement of the year.

“Stop that, it's annoying when you do that.” he flicked your shoulder, “I'm just trying to be comforting.” You blinked a couple of times, eyes opening wider.

“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat, putting his hand gently on your back, “if you are someone important then I'm going to do all I can to make sure you stay that way.”

You smiled softly looking over at him, he was smiling back. “Thanks Stan, you know maybe I can get something out of this no memory thing, like a puppy or a raise?” You quirked an eyebrow up.

He rolled his eyes, “don't press your luck toots.” He groaned standing to his feet, knees popping, “I'll never understand why you prefer sitting on the stoop when there's a perfectly good couch right there.” he grumbled more to himself than anything.

He shook his and started walking back inside, “Now come on Ford said he's got dinner almost ready.”

All you could do was stare after him, your eyes wide as tears began to slip down your face again, but this time you were smiling.

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #grunkle stan #grunkle stan x reader #stanley pines #stanley pines x reader

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ohmygraves · 8 months

Text

i'm coming down with a flu i think so how about some ghost taking care of sick!reader?

when you wake up in the morning, you feel like you have swallowed pieces of glass in your sleep. your eyes felt hot, watering as you tried to rub it away to no avail. your sinuses felt awful too, you can't breathe properly through your nose. and worst of all you noticed that it's not even morning anymore, as the clock on your nightstand says 13:47 instead.

you started to panic, of course, you missed work and worried about getting in trouble with your boss, frantically searching for your phone. you saw it being charged just beside the clock (not where you left it, clearly you always fell asleep on your phone so it should be on the bed), confused as you unplugged it. your husband must've charged it on your behalf.

expecting for the worst, you braced for at least 53 missed calls from your boss and coworkers, though finding none instead. this surprises you, as you clearly know that your boss would've eaten you alive if you didn't return his calls, let alone missing most of the work hours.

simon suddenly walked in, placing a cup of hot honey lemon concoction on the nightstand. this confuses you evenmore.

"aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"well, you're at home yourself, love. aren't you supposed to be at work?"

when you rolled your eyes in annoyance, simon couldn't help but chuckle, sitting down beside you on your shared bed.

"asked th' old man to let me stay home today. said i'll get the whole base sick with the germs i carried to work."

as ridiculous as it sounds, at least it makes a lot of sense. you took a small tentative sip from the cup, flinching from the temperature. you didn't expect it to be so hot, then again simon always liked his beverages scalding.

"what about my work—"

"called your workplace for you, sweetheart. just rest for now, you sound worse than price today."

"you're so mean..."

"well i love you too."

he stood up, giving your head a small pat, his lips curled into a small smile. "i'll get you some food so you can take your meds."

you nodded weakly, unsure what else to say now since now your head feels like it's spinning. you placed the hot cup back on the nightstand, not wanting to spill it and getting hot lemon all over the bed or the carpet. no way in hell you're cleaning all the mess when you can't even stand up.

you must've fallen asleep afterwards, as simon woke you up, a bowl of hearty cream soup in hand. it has all of your favorite things in it, and smells surprisingly good. that's odd, simon doesn't really cook.

"where'd you buy this...?" you asked, clearly can't see him cooking this from scratch.

"i made this for you, love. now stop being snarky and eat it."

you didn't even have the energy to protest, just taking small bites from the bowl. it was surprisingly tasty, although a little too salty for you. some of the vegetables are also a little undercooked. now this is more like what you expected.

"not bad, gordon ramsey."

"still have the energy to joke around, i see."

"it's a compliment, simon."

now it was his turn to roll his eyes, sitting beside you and watching you eat his food. you pointed out how it tasted, and what he might have to fix next. he nodded quietly, hand caressing your hair slowly as he listened.

"i didn't get any call or text from work... what did you do?"

"just a little convincing, nothing big."

he didn't mention (vaguely) threatening your boss, or how he basically begged the captain to stay home today so he could take care of you instead. you don't need to know that.

#i felt physically ill #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty headcanon #simon ghost riley #cod headcanon #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost x reader #tw: sick #sick fic

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ba9go · 2 months

Text

bokuto koutarou misses your anniversary

timeskip!bokuto (msby black jackals), fem!reader, hurt/comfort, flufffff

koutarou has never missed your anniversary in the 7 years you've been together since highschool. come hell or high water, koutarou would never miss your anniversary for the world.

this year, however, was different.

koutarou's career meant a lot to him. he lives and breathes volleyball. and as the msby black jackals' starting wing spiker, koutarou was vital to the team.

it just so happened that the fivb world championships were going to be held the day before your anniversary. in switzerland. which was 14 hours away from japan.

it was a huge deal, the fivb being a week-long international tournament and all, and the jackals were facing the russian team zenit kazan in the finals.

it sucked. it sucked even more when koutarou broke the news to you, even if you'd been understanding.

"it's okay, kou," you smiled at him warmly.

"it's not okay," koutarou sulked, burying his face in his hands. "i don't wanna be away on our anniversary. it's hard enough to be away from you for a week. can't we just fly you to switzerland? please?" he peeks at you sadly from between his fingers.

"sorry, but i've got work, kou," you murmured quietly, gently prying his hands off his face. you squeezed his hands reassuringly. "go do your best out there, i'll be rooting for you. i promise we'll celebrate once you're home, okay?"

"okaaaay," koutarou pouted, but interlocked his fingers with yours to squeeze your hands back. "but i still don't like this."

koutarou hated this, actually.

not only had they lost the match, but there was a slight delay in his flight back to japan. the plane landed at kansai international airport closer to 10pm than the initially stipulated 6pm.

koutarou tried not to let his frustration get the better of him. the last thing he wanted to do was to come home late and angry. he tried to calm down in the cab driving back home.

koutarou reached the front door of the house at 11.16pm. that gave him... roughly 44 minutes to spend his anniversary with you. great.

he didn't bother unpacking his luggages, instead leaving them in the doorway and making a beeline straight to the bedroom. the door was slightly ajar, and the room was dark save the warm yellow light from the lamp on the nightstand.

koutarou felt his heart sink as he walked towards you, curled up in bed alone. 'i'm too late,' he thinks sadly, crouching next to the bed and staring at your face, tired but beautiful. he imagines you, trying to stay up even after a long day of work. 'she must be so disappointed in me.'

"y/n," koutarou whispers softly. he feels tears start to well in his eyes. "i'm home. i'm sorry for making you wait."

you stir ever so slightly in your sleep.

koutarou leans over and presses a kiss against your forehead. when he pulls back, your eyes are wide open and staring right at him.

"kou? kou!" your face breaks into a grin and you fling your arms around him. "you're back!! when did you get back?"

koutarou is bewildered. you're not mad at him?

"you must be so tired, baby! have you taken a bath? let's run you a hot bath, okay?" you sit up and move to get off the bed when koutarou catches you with his arms around your waist.

"i'm sorry," koutarou whispers against your chest. he squeezes your waist like he's afraid you'll disappear on him at any moment. "our anniversary's ruined, because of me."

you instinctively wrap your arms around the back of his head, cradling him. "you didn't ruin anything, kou," you ruffle his hair lovingly.

"we didn't even win." koutarou's head falls to your lap. you continue patting his head.

"that's okay. i'm still proud of you."

"i missed our anniversary."

"you're here now, aren't you?" you smile at koutarou when he looks up at you from your lap. he nods slowly. "that's more than enough, kou."

"really?"

"of course. happy 7-year anniversary, koutarou. i adore you."

what can i say. bokuto has been my comfort character since 2017. thank you for always being here for me bokuto!!!!! :D

#bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #haikyuu bokuto #hq bokuto #bokuto kotaro #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #bokuto fluff #bokuto kōtarō #bokuto koutarou x reader

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daydreams-after-dark · 4 months

Note

can we talk about a sub police officer han >.> like with a criminal reader because i know we all saw how he held that toy gun in skz code 😭

I read this ask before I watched skz code… then I saw it and I knew what you meant. He’s such a darling boy. I love him. I want him to do bad things to me. Even if he does it awkwardly, he gets the job done.

🥰🥰🥰 I’m so excited actually, because I have quite a few #policeofficerskz asks and the concepts are so scrumptious. I can barely contain myself.

Anyways… here is what came to mind for your ask. I love you and hope you enjoy 😘🥰

CW: coercion, unprotected p in v sex, cream pie, sex in a semi public place, nudity.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

Since your arrest earlier that day you have been scoping out the police officers at the station. Watching through the bars of the cell, narrowing down which one would be your ticket to freedom.

Really, you shouldn’t have even been arrested. You were set up. Okay, fine. You’re a con artist. But you wouldn’t have been arrested if you hadn’t been snitched on by some undercover officer. Thanks Officer Kim.

As you analyse each of the police officers in the station, the one who seems to catch your eye the most is Officer Han. He appears gentle, quiet, easily persuaded, kind of awkward. You can work with that. Plus, he is kind of cute. Bonus.

And what do you know, Officer Han is on night duty at the station tonight. Alone. You watch him through the bars as he drinks instant coffee and works at his computer.

The lights are low in the station. It’s quiet too, apart from the clacking of his keyboard.

He yawns and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes for a long moment. Poor baby’s tired. When he opens them his eyes land on yours.

He swallows nervously. You know he’s feeling vulnerable having you watch him. This is perfect.

You tilt your head and part your lips seductively, and his eyes blink rapidly before returning his attention to his computer screen.

“Officer?” you say coyly.

His eyes snap up to meet yours again.

"I need your help. You see I'm innocent. This was all a set up. Your officer Kim is corrupt. He stitched me up." Your bottom lip wobbles.

Han sighs loudly, like he wishes you would just stay quiet so he doesn't have to do anything. Maybe he'll just ignore you.

Or maybe not.

Officer Han stands and with his head down, he quietly walks towards the cell. He stops once he's in front of you, but doesn't look up.

"Look, it's not up to me...I'm just babysitting the station. I wasn't the arresting officer. There's nothing I can do." he says and makes to walk away.

Your hand reaches through the bars and grasps his arm. He stills, looking down at where your hand is wrapped around his forearm, and swallows hard.

"Please. Can you at least keep me company. I'm scared. I'm cold." You say in a small voice.

He looks up at you, a bewildered expression on his face.

"Please?" You let your eyes well up as you give him your best "pleading" eyes.

He shakes his head regretfully. "I-I shouldn't. It's against protocol." he whispers. You squeeze his arm a little harder and he whimpers. You've almost got him.

He lets out a shaky breath. "J-just wait here. I'll get you a cup of hot chocolate and a blanket." he concedes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Officer." You purr and release his arm.

You watch him through the bars as he fumbles about making a hot drink and finding another blanket, before returning to the cell and producing a key.

You smirk and go sit on the roll out mat in the far corner of the cell. You must look non-threatening for your plan to work. He enters the cell cautiously and stands in the middle of the area like he doesn't know what to do.

"Come sit." You pat the mat next you. He looks back awkwardly to where his desk is. "I won't bite." you raise and eyebrow.

"O-okay. O-only for a second... " he stutters.

Only for a second? You know how that always ends.

"Here's a blanket, he hands you the tatty fabric. "and your hot chocolate." he gives you the paper cup and sits down next to you and looks at his feet.

"Officer Han. That is your name isn't it?" you place the cup down in the corner, and turn to him. He is very attractive close up.

He nods. "Yes."

"And how long have you been a police officer?" you reach out and draw a circle on his knee with your index finger.

"Um... six months." he says shakily as he watches your finger work its way up his thigh.

"Hmm. Just a baby, huh?" you lick you lips as you watch him tremble.

"M'not a baby." he narrows his eyebrows and glares at you, but quickly looks away.

"No. I was only joking." You bring your hand up to stroke his cheek. "I bet you're very good at doing grown up things."

Officer Han gulps. "I am." he chokes.

"Wanna show me?" You grab his chin, forcing him to look at you. "I need you to show me what grown up things you can do. Can you? Can you do that for me?"

"I-I'm not sure what you mean, Miss?" he says innocently.

"Sure you do. I'm cold." You press yourself up against his side. "I'm thirsty." You ghost your lips over his cheek. "I'm starving." You whisper against his ear. "Need you to warm me up." You nibble his ear lobe. "Need you to fill me up."

"Fuck." he whimpers.

"That's exactly what I need you to show me."

“Huh?” He looks at you wide eyed. His eyes dart around the cell.

You slowly straddle his lap and begin to grind down on him. He's hard in his trousers, and from what you can tell, he's going to fill you just right.

“Miss. We can’t.” He protests in a small voice.

“Don’t you want to touch me, Officer?” You unbutton your blouse, revealing the swell of your breasts and your push up bra. “Go on. Touch them.” You say sternly.

Cautiously, he brings his shaking hands up and rests them on the bulge of your breasts. His mouth hangs open as he squeezes them slightly.

“Mmm, you like them don’t you, Officer?”

He nods.

“Yeah? I bet Officer Han would like to know what my pussy feels like too? Wouldn’t he?” You purr and take him in a ravenous kiss.

He squeaks in response and you smile against his mouth. “I need to you take your clothes off, Officer. I don’t want any part of you hiding from me. I need to see all of you.” You lean in close your his ear “I promise I’ll take all mine off too. You wanna see me naked don’t you?”

Again, Han nods frantically, and undresses so quickly you're not sure if it's pathetic or endearing. Either way, your cunt pulses when you see his bare form. Strong. Toned. Mouthwatering cock.

“I’m naked. Now what? What do you need me to do?” He says desperately, taking in your naked body too.

“Well.” You say laying down on the blanket. “You can start by warming me up.” You part your legs, presenting your pussy to the police officer. "With your mouth."

He’s between your legs, pushing them wide, slurping at your pussy like he hasn’t had a drink in ten hours.

“Oh fuck yes! Officer. Fuck, you do know how to do grown up things!” You cry as he suckles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Fingers! Fingers!” You demand, your breath heavy. He pushes two fingers into your cunt while he continues to give your clit attention.

“Yes! Harder!” You thread your fingers through his hair and pull him against your core while you grind your hips against his face.

You’re going to come at any second, but you know that you want to come on his cock.

“Lie on your back, Officer. You deserve to relax after such a hard days work.” You wriggle out from his grasp. The obedient officer does exactly what you ask and he’s on his back, cock heavy and leaking again his stomach. “Time for me to show you what a good girl I am.” You say as you straddle him.

You take your time. Teasing him by sliding along the length of his cock. Getting it soaking wet.

“Please.” He whispers.

“What is it Officer? What do you need?” you coo.

“Don’t tease me.” He sobs.

You lift off of him to line his cock up with your entrance and slowly lower yourself over his length. “Am I being a good girl?” You bite your lip as you encompass him completely.

You continue to ride him slow. He feels so hard inside you and you think if you went any faster he’d blow almost immediately. You want to exhaust the boy.

You build him up, pushing him to the edge, only to ease off. Several times you repeat the process. Officer Han is a wreck underneath you. Sobbing for you to let him come.

“Shh. It’s okay, Officer.” You reassure him as you reach down and play with your clit. You close your eyes and allow an orgasm to wash over you, clenching your walls around his cock.

“Fuck!!!” He cries and you rock your hips to take him over the edge. He comes so hard, and so deep, inside you.

Officer Han pants and trembles underneath you. But you’re not finished with him.

No.

You climb off him and immediately take his cock in your mouth. He protests. He’s so sensitive. Your mouth is too much. But you don’t care. His little cries and pretty moans make you just want to overstimulate even more.

You suck him until he’s hard, then milk him dry. Four more times. All the while he begs you to both “stop, too much”, and “fuck please, let me come!” You ride him two more times too, because he feels too good in your tight little cunt.

Eventually he is so exhausted that he passes out. Mouth agape with a little bit of drool on his chin. Or maybe that was your wetness?

It's almost a shame that you're never going to see him again. He'd probably make a great boyfriend.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

“Officer Han! What happened?”

“Oh dear. This isn’t good.”

“Someone had a rough night?”

“Someone’s going to have a lot of explaining to do.”

Voices wake Officer Han from his sleep. He blinks his eyes open to find its morning. Where the fuck is he? He sits up panicking.

Oh fuck!

He looks around the empty cell, then down at his naked body. Where the fuck are his clothes!? He scrambles around, trying to locate his uniform. But they’re gone.

The other officers laugh and taunt him as he resorts to wrapping the blanket around his waist and tugging at the cell door.

Locked.

“Officer Han.” A stern voice cuts through the jaunts and laughter, and a short, blond man pushes through the throng of officers that have gathered in front of the cell.

Han gulps. “Chief! I can explain.”

Read unrelated fic ot8 frees use jail cell

Read unrelated fic good cop /bad cop Han / Lee know

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco

#han jisung smut #Skz smut #Han Jisung x reader #han jisung imagines

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heian-era-housewife · 2 months

Text

Synopsis | How will Shiu react when he learns that you, his mate, are packing the heat in more ways than one while on a dangerous mission with friend and fellow assassin Toji Fushiguro?

Content | mdni 18+, omega!(f)reader x alpha!shiu, smut, fingering, masturbation, sex (p in v), knotting, biting, swearing, guns, blood, sweaty!shirtless!toji

Word Count | ~3.6k

"Got your gun, wallet, keys?" Shiu asked as you slid from his passenger seat.

"Isn't it supposed to be 'phone', wallet, keys?" You questioned.

"Not when you're an assassin," he smirked. You returned his smile, patting the firearm on your hip. Leaning in to place a goodbye kiss on your forehead, he flinched as his lips made contact with your feverish brow.

"Woah! You feeling alright, doll?" He asked.

"I think so. Why?"

"You're burning up!" He exclaimed, reaching foreward with the back of his hand. "You sure you can do this today?"

"I'll be fine," you reassured him. "Besides, me and Toji spent weeks lining up this hit. Not like I'm going to flake out over a little fever."

As your mate and handler, Shiu knew exactly how capable and deadly you really were. Even so, few people in your line of work believed an omega could make a good operative and, while he pitied those who foolishly chose to underestimate you, he also knew you had a tendency to push yourself beyond your limits.

He shot you an analyzing look before saying, "You just call me if you need anything, okay?" You gave his hand an affirming squeeze. "And hey," he added, "tell Fushiguro to take good care of you!"

"You know I won't!" You chuckled as you closed the door and watched him drive off.

"Hey, Fireball" Toji called out a few minutes later as you reached your meeting point.

"It was one time!" You scoffed at the nickname he'd given you after a particularly sideways mission where you'd fired off a shot inside a pyrotechnics storehouse.

Toji was your partner and friend. A rare exception to the alphas who questioned your skill as an assassin. Having known Shiu for over a decade, he was practically family. So it was with both confusion and a little concern that you watched his eyes darken as you approached.

"You feeling okay?" He asked, voice suddenly serious.

"Would everyone quit asking me that?" You rolled your eyes.

"It's just...nevermind." He trailed off. "Let's do this, yeah?"

"Hell yeah!"

Toji's target was sighted, barrel aligned perfectly with the mark's left temple. Even from a distance you knew Toji was a perfect shot and you tended to think of his victims in the past tense long before he ever even pulled the trigger.

But something was off.

His fingers were twitchy, eyes darting to meet yours every few seconds, a bead of sweat ran capriciously down his neck. He had already realigned the shot three times. You watched the muscles in Toji's jaw flex as he swallowed. Hard.

"What's wrong?" You mouthed, catching his attention from where you crouched, just out of the target's line of sight.

He gave you a look. Nothing more. A hint of panic in his calculating glare.

It was out of character and unsettling. What was he seeing that you weren't? The two of you, typically so in sync, seemingly worlds apart in the mission's most critical moment.

It made you uncomfortable. Itchy, almost. You squirmed restlessly in your post, hot distress churning your gut as your fever intensified. You quietly fanned your face, looking back only to see Toji had disappeared.

Where the hell...?

Your fanning became frenzied as you scanned for your partner. Just then, two large hands reached from the shadows behind you. With strength and speed, one clasped your wrist, halting your movements, while the other pressed firmly over your mouth.

"Mmh!"

"Shhhhh" Toji's breath prickled your neck as he pulled you in closer to his chest.

Straining to peer over your shoulder against his vice-like grip, you nearly gasped when you met his eyes. Inky black with pupils blown in a feral expression. Beads of shimmering sweat forming a glistening crown over his forehead. Nostrils flaring with ragged breaths he was fighting to keep quiet, chest heaving.

You felt nauseous and lightheaded, overwhelmed by the feeling you'd seen this look somewhere before. Fucked out. Rabid. Hungry.

His panting breaths tickled the mark on the base of your neck.

That's when it hit you. You had seen this before. About a year ago to be exact, when Shiu became your mate. Dawning realization crashed down in suffocating waves. You weren't sick. You were in heat. Too inexperienced to recognize the signs, as it was only your second. In an instant, everything made sense, the subtle clues of the morning drawing together- pheromones now pulsing off of you, hot and steady.

Suddenly you wanted nothing more than to be in the care and safety of your mate. Instead, you found yourself caught in the midst of a dangerous mission, bound in the arms of Japan's most deadly predator. And he wasn't letting go. Your heart began to race as you writhed in his grip.

"Mngh!!!"

"Don't move!" Toji urged. Then, pointing, he whispered,"He can smell you." Your target's head was now tipped back, nose to the air, inhaling deeply.

In your panic, you'd nearly forgotten about the man before you.

Toji wasn't the threat here. It was him. The one you'd come here to kill. An experienced alpha, Toji figured it all out before you had- your fever, your scent. Now he was protecting you in spite of whatever carnal urges were clawing at the inner workings of his alpha instincts.

Slowly, he released you as you allowed yourself to relax slightly in his grip.

"Stay still," he said using your shoulder to support his shaking hands while he rearranged the grip on his gun. He knelt behind you steadying his breath, concentrating.

Having caught your scent, the man you had been sent to kill pivoted slowly in place, homing in on your location. Aware that he was not alone, he reached slowly for his own sidepiece, pulling it quietly from its holster.

Despite his prowess, Toji was a mess. Hands trembling, heart pounding, the situation growing ever more dire. Keeping your eyes on the target, you reached up, taking Toji's hands in your own. Working together, you steadied his hold, wrapping your trigger finger over his.

"Ready?" You breathed.

Just then the target spotted you both, aiming his weapon with hasty imprecision and firing indiscriminately in your direction.

You didn't wait for Toji's answer. Squeezing your finger over his you made the shot and watched as the man folded to the cold concrete where he stood- a single red mark centered perfectly on his forehead.

You were only allowed a moment of calm, however, before another volley of shots came ripping through the warehouse in your direction, sending you and Toji scattering from your ill-concealed hideout.

The man's cronies came spilling in through the warehouse, no-doubt having heard the commotion within. Bits of fractured concrete rained down in a barrage of powdery shrapnel while metal storage containers sent bullets ricocheting in a deadly hailstorm all around you. Dodging the bombardment, you and Toji returned fire with varied success. Fear and adrenaline had taken your heat to critical mass, your scent acting as an unwanted beacon for your whereabouts. Your thoughts swam with visions of Shiu, concentration wavering as your very flesh ached in desperation for your mate.

"Need you to do something for me, Fireball." Toji panted as the two of you ran for cover. Rounding a corner, he pulled you in against the side of a shipping container, suddenly ripping off his sweat-drenched shirt. Heaving chest glistening, he stared at you expectantly and for a fleeting moment you thought he'd lost his mind. Then, clarifying his intentions, he held out the wadded up shirt. "Put this on, hurry!"

The effect was immediate. While it couldn't obscure your scent entirely, nor for very long, the footsteps that gave chase from your unseen assailants fell further and further behind while the bullets went from “near-miss” to “not even close”. Seizing your opportunity, the two of you ducked out the nearest exit, not once looking back until you'd reached Toji's car parked several blocks away.

Once in the car Toji sat, hands tight on the steering wheel, until his breathing became somewhat steady. You were sitting shotgun, face pressed to the cool window, desperate for a bit of relief.

“Call Shiu,” Toji said, handing you his phone. “Tell him we're coming to meet him. Spare the details if you can.”

You let out a cynical chuckle. Shiu was an ex-detective and a damn good one at that. Connecting the dots was his very nature, details or otherwise. With trembling hands, you dialed his number.

“Fushiguro, what's-?”

“Shiu, it's me.”

“Are you oka-”

“I'm in heat,” you blurted out. Toji slapped a palm to his forehead.

“Where are you? Are you with…” His voice trailed off, realization turning his stomach. “Let me talk to him.” His voice formidable and cold as ice. You handed the phone to Toji, collapsing into the seat while you listened to one side of the conversation.

“Look, we can't stay here,” Toji barked, “we'll get found out. We'll have to meet you halfway.” There was silence as he listened to Shiu's reply. Then, voice somber and serious he said, “You know I would never. You have my word…You can trust me.”

You were half-gone by the time the car's engine roared to life. Sick with need and drenched in sweat, you mewled your discomfort with each passing mile. It was humiliating. You, an assassin, clinging shamelessly to Toji's shirt for comfort, thighs pressed firmly together as throbbing pressure gave way to sweet-smelling pools of slick. An ache like you'd never felt radiated from your core. You needed one thing and one thing only- to be bred.

Toji, meanwhile, was having his own set of troubles. For fear of attracting unwanted attention, he kept the windows up forcing himself to take the brunt of your aroma, his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel doing little to ground himself. Half-dressed and half-baked in your intoxicating scent, it became increasingly difficult to keep his mind and his eyes on the road. Before long, a strangled sound escaped his lips. Then another, and another, giving way to a string of faint whimpers Toji prayed you wouldn't hear.

Several miles in, you'd fallen into a sleep-like state, overcome by sickly exhaustion. On one occasion you stirred, breaking the silence with a mumbled plea.

“I need him,” you begged.

“I know, Fireball.” Toji croaked.

He'd done so well to contain himself. Denied and rejected every primal urge that gnawed at his raging libido. But whatever obstinance was left- whatever dredges of chivalry and self-respect he could muster- all dissolved at the sound of your desperate voice. In that one instant, a hot rush flooded his aching shaft sending it skyward in a shameful display of powerful lust. Shifting in his seat, he tried to hide it but it was no use. He was touch starved and ravenous. Desperate for friction where his throbbing tip pressed angry tears to the front of his pants that bloomed in darkened stains as they soaked through. Sparing you a sideways glance, he hoped you wouldn’t see as he began to palm the front of his pants. With one hand on the steering wheel, the other pumped his cock through the fabric of his sweats. Visions unfolded like a wet dream before him. Your sweet-smelling cunt swallowing his alpha cock. His knot stretching you past your limits. His teeth baring down on your mark, changing its shape, making you his.

“Toji,” you whispered, eyes still closed, unaware of his thoughts and actions. His whole body tensed at the sound of his name, snapping him back to reality. Jaw clenching in forced restraint, he replied with a hoarse, “Yeah?”.

“You're a good friend.” You finished kindly, your words coming down on him like a bucket of ice water. He'd nearly lost himself. Nearly betrayed that friendship.

“The fuckin’ best.” He said, kicking himself for his lapse in restraint. Reduced to a sweating, trembling, whimpering mess, Toji forged ahead determined to see his mission through and deliver you to the waiting arms of your mate.

Shiu paced next to his parked car, worry written over his face in deep lines. Just the sight of him sent a rush of slick spilling onto the seat beneath you. You surged with yearning as Toji gripped the steering wheel with a final anguished groan, aligning his driver's side door with an eagerly awaiting Shiu.

The two men exchanged a look through the tinted glass. Stark serious. Tense. Toji's blown pupils and desperate expression framed by sweat-flattened hair that dripped to his bare chest below. An accusatory fire boiled in Shiu's beating chest and glinted behind his hardened stare. For a minute, he thought he might punch his friend. Might just kill him then and there for whatever atrocities he may have committed. But as Toji opened the door, Shiu was nearly overcome with pheromones that burst from the vehicle and flooded his senses. While Toji practically gasped for fresh air, steadying himself against the side of the car, Shiu devoured the scent like a starving man. It was heady and intoxicating. Provocative. Irresistible. That's when he saw you. Weak and feverish, curled up in the passenger seat looking smaller than ever. Wrapped in Toji's shirt doing little now to cover your scent, still very much in need. Mark untouched.

Stepping up to Toji, he squared off with his fellow alpha. Then, raising his hand, he brought it down with a firm "clap" on Toji's shoulder. A gesture of friendship. Of gratitude.

"You did good." Shiu said. There was sincerity in his words. Toji offered a weak nod, then sank to the ground where he stayed for some time.

Mission accomplished, he thought to himself.

Shiu lifted you from the passenger seat and set you in his own car, removing Toji's shirt and wrapping you in his blazer. By the time the engine roared to life, you were already half gone. Face back on the cool window, mind drifting in and out focus. Little moans mixed with Shiu's name still fell from your lips, while your hand drifted idly- numbly- over your slick-stained lap.

"Fuck, I can't do this." Shiu said, not a mile down the road. "I gotta-" using his knees to balance the steering wheel, he quickly loosened his belt and fly. "I gotta have you." Freeing his cock, he stroked himself while he searched for a place to pull off.

He had every intention of getting you home. Of bedding you down in the comfort of your own nest. But unlike Toji, he was unrestrained and unfettered by the need to keep his hands off of you. His own need now as vital as the air inside his lungs.

As he pulled off the road you nearly sobbed with relief, a strangled cry breaking free from your chest as you finally let down.

Leaning over, Shiu brushed a bead of sweat from your dampened face before closing the gap with an empassioned kiss. He parted your lips with his tongue, moaning into your mouth with full abandon. You returned the gesture, running shaking hands through his flyaway hair, whimpering shamelessly while you explored his teeth, his tongue.

In an instant he was on top of you, scooting up and over the center console to straddle your lap- covering you, kissing you. It was tight and cramped and you didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of Shiu. His smell, his touch, his taste.

He took your face in both his hands as he continued kissing you. Before long, the kisses traveled to your ear where they became something more promiscuous.

“God I missed you.”

He whispered his need for you, nipping at the shell of your ear before moving down to your neck. Hands and teeth and sultry moans filled the space. He licked a stripe along your neck and traced the stubble of his mustache along your jawline, breathing goosebumps over soft skin as he went.

"Fuck, I gotta have you" he said, reaching down to pull the seat's lever, lowering his weight down onto you as the seat reclined. In a matter of moments he'd managed to undress you both from the waist down, lips curling in a wayward smile the second he saw your glossy cunt.

With two long fingers, he reached down to part your folds, then slid them gently inside, pumping his wrist to the rhythm of his hips while he traced a line of salty precum from his tip over your tummy. He rocked you slowly with his weight, making you mewl with each upward thrust.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed softly. “God, I was so worried.”

“Shiu…”

Your pussy throbbed at his gentle words, slick coating his fingers as you pined for something more. You needed him like a vice. Craved him like a drug.

“Shiu, please.” You breathed.

Holding up his slick-sheened hand, he licked himself clean before placing his hands on your shoulders and lowering his forehead to rest gently over yours. His face was so close he was almost blurry, but you could still see the crinkle in his eyes from his devilish smile when he plunged himself deep into your aching core. You couldn't help the gasp that escaped you as he entered.

“Fuckkk,” you groaned, rolling your hips to match his pace. “Ha-harderrr.”

“This is what you needed isn’t it, dollface? I’m sorry I wasn't there for you. I should’ve known better.” He thrusted deeper. “You were so strong. So- hahh- fucking badass.” You tightened at his praise, moaning in turn. “Oh, you like that?” He asked, picking up speed. “Of course I'd expect nothing less from my favorite gunslinger.”

“You're driving me crazy!” You cried out in desperation.

“Oh this ain't enough?” He growled, grabbing your hips to drive himself deeper. Even at this angle, you still wanted more, needed more.

“Crazy? You're the craziest fucking -nngh- dish I know,” he panted. “And I ain't got nothin’ to do with it. Out there gunning down creeps while you're in -fuck- heat. Jesus, doll, you keep clenching on me like this you'll be milking me dry before I can breed you prop-hah-properly.”

“Do it then, Shiu!” You begged, turning under his weight. “Breed me properly!”

As he pulled out, you flipped over in the seat, hungry pussy swallowing his length, rounded ass pressing into his hips.

“That's it, doll! Fuck it back into me!” He growled. “Want you to take this cock like the rebel you are.” Speed and force rocked the car and still it wasn't enough. You arched your back, tits pressed hard against the seat. In a rabid moment of lust you bit down on the leather head rest, not caring what future clients might think of the suspicious imprint.

“Save some of that for me,” he teased, hand grazing the mark on your neck.

“I need- hahh-” you gasped as he forced his way deeper. “Shiu, I n-need your knot!”

"I know, doll, I know. Workin’ on it," thrusts becoming sloppy and more desperate.

You felt like you might explode. Your heat had reached a crescendo. The only thing that could break this fever was the stretch of his knot and the warmth of his seed spilling into you. It was agony.

“Shiu, please, fuck I-”

Sharp canines pierced the base of your neck, breaking the skin at the same time his hard knot appeared at your entrance. His thighs shook from the resistance while he thrust his hips forward, teeth sinking hungrily into your neck. Then, with a satisfying stretch, your desperate pussy swallowed his huge knot sending spasms through your core. Muffled cries of “Oh, fuck fuck fuck,” came from the place where he was still biting onto you. Walls fluttering, you milked his cock, hot ropes warming your insides as he emptied his heavy balls straight into you. Waves of relief poured over you as you fucked your orgasm back into him, clear liquid trailing down his thighs and yours.

Shiu lit a cigarette, blowing lazy clouds of smoke as he waited for his knot to let down, his bodyweight bringing comfort to your weary frame.

“Hahhhhhhh….” You breathed for what felt like the first time in hours. Blood trickled down your shoulder from where he finished marking you. You'd return the favor later.

“Thank you…” You whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“You were amazing today. A real bad actor.”

“I wouldn’t have made it without you and-” you froze. Struck by the embarrassment of the day's events. “-Toji”.

Toji watched as you and Shiu drove off, still sitting on the ground, back resting against his car.

A silent tug of war played out in his head. Morals as grey as the pavement below.

“Fuck it,” he said, reaching for the shirt he had let you wear, now discarded on the ground near his feet. Breathing your scent, he stood, leaning against the driver's side door, tugging his pants just below his hips and freeing his twitching cock.

“Fuckkkk” He groaned as he fisted himself to the thought of you so desperate and needy in the front seat of his car. He stroked himself to the sight of the stains on his seat. Jerked his hips to the memory of your moans still ringing in his ears. Fucked himself out to every inch of you he couldn't have today. And finally, reaching his climax, he tightened his grip as he knotted in his own hand, white hot loads spilling thickly down the side of his door. Rutting his hips slowly, he maintained the grip over his firm knot, a final spurt of sticky cum painting his car in white.

“Sorry, Fireball.” He said, looking down at the mess he'd made. “I may be a good friend, but I ain't no saint.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #shiu kong #jjk shiu #shiu smut #shiu x reader #shiu kong x reader #shiu x you #shiu x y/n #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk omegaverse #omegaverse

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n3ptoonz · 9 months

Note

I have a pre-relationship request that’s more on the cute side. Can you please write Bi Han, Kenshi, Johnny, Liu Kang, Raiden and Kung Lao reacting to the reader (who is a new kombatant) who has been feeling weary from the training and falling asleep on the men’s shoulder? It can be under different scenarios, whatever you think works the best :)

this is so cute!! i'll be happy to write this😁

no warnings, pure FLUFF <3

Sub-Zero

Being a new kombatant came with a lot of responsibilities. However, for lack of better word, it felt like more of a responsibility being around Bi-Han than any other. He knew not to work you as hard as his recruits, so with the kindness left in his heart he offered to help and train with you. He was quite impressed with your quick learning and determination too. So one day after a long session--this was his way of saying he thought you were good enough to train with him that long--you sat together to cool off in a comfortable silence. After a while he began to ramble on about duties and such when he turned to feel the weight of your head on his shoulder. He was honestly going to wake you up, but then felt you deserved the rest. Anybody who passed by him earned a mean glare if they even tried speaking to him and possibly waking you up, but shh! You didn't hear that from me!

Kenshi Takahashi

After being assigned to work with Kenshi, it's natural that you were nervous. You heard many stories about the blind swordsman, and now you were actually in his presence. Sensing your hesitance to really give your all out of nervousness, he always made sure to let you know you can give everything you got, so gradually over time you two became comfortable during and after training sessions. You've learned a lot from him: from stances, to breathing patterns, to how to efficiently piss Johnny off if he bothered you with his droning on about being in Hollywood, it was no question that you two connected on another level. After a particularly challenging session, he paid no mind to you falling asleep on his shoulder. You earned it. He'd carry on with his own conversations while making sure he didn't budge. It could also be something he brags about to Johnny, cause why the hell not?

Johnny Cage

When you were first introduced to the fighting scene by Liu Kang, you expected to meet all types of esteemed warriors and established individuals that wore their honor on their sleeves. When it came to Johnny, it was weirdly charming. He was the first to offer to train with you because you looked strong. He'd play around with the whole "I'll go easy on you" speech until you showed him what you're capable of. Now, he took you seriously. The Johnny Cage that came to light when he wanted to prove a point was always present when you showed up, but you admired it nonetheless. You liked that he didn't view you as some weakling that could be talked down on. So post intense sparring match with you out like a light once your head laid upon his shoulder, he just quietly laughed it off and patted your head. "You're lucky we tied." he whispered.

Liu Kang

Of course, anybody's heart would be thumping in the presence of a God. The God of Fire himself kindly offered to take you under his wing, seeing great potential in you and your future. Liu Kang took this role very seriously, so while he explained you were hand picked, you immediately snapped into a warrior's mindset. Being a new kombatant was the highest honor in your eyes, especially while being backed by a literal God. Though he will have no issue reminding you to just view him as another friend--glowing eyes and all power aside. Being your Lord eventually felt no different than simply speaking to a superior you could say what's up to. He admired your love for training and being quick on your toes, so no wonder you fell asleep on him. Working with a God is no joke!

Raiden

Getting to train with the champion of Earthrealm was surreal to you. Although when you met Raiden, you didn't think he'd be so sweet and chill. Most of all humble. Letting him know you were new here made him so happy, especially now since he didn't have to deal with Kung Lao's blabbering about if he was champion. It didn't take long to start training longer and harder, but sometimes it may have been a little difficult to keep up. He is the champion for a reason! There'd be a plethora of opportunities to learn from each other and understand each other better through fighting. It was a breath of fresh air to learn you both viewed kombat as a means of expression and art. Falling asleep on his shoulder after a long day made his own tiredness disappear. He was honored that you felt so comfortable and relaxed around him--this much was clear when someone walked past him grinning ear to ear.

Kung Lao

A new kombatant for him to train with?! Let's go! Kung Lao was a man that needed no introduction. Once he eyes laid upon you, he could sense your strength from across the room. He wore his pride on his sleeve, but it honestly didn't bother you much. He was the same man who came this close to being champion of Earthrealm and had his own set of great skill. He loved training with you. You were able to keep up with him in a short amount of time and even develop your own flair being around him so long. In a way he kind of felt like your mentor. The evening that you trained so hard and sparred so well and eventually fell asleep on his shoulder, he expected as much. As a matter of fact, he would joke about it all this time after every session, half of him thinking it probably wouldn't happen. But regardless he found it adorable and wore this moment like a badge of honor.

a/n: lowkey i have no clue if i've reused the same sentiments for some of these characters but hey im used to writing in the format so yall gonna have to deal with it 😤 hope this was what you had in mind!

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fadedmunson · 9 months

Text

rose blood | r. sanchez

pairings ; rick sanchez x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

summary ; MAJOR SPOILERS ending of 7x05 (unmortricken) when you try to be there for rick's numb state

genre ; insanely sad angst ;( bit of fluff at the end, established relationship (?) no labels on it but you're close

notes ; i've loved this show for quite so i'm quite surprised i haven't written for r&m sooner. use of curse words

wc ; 0.7k sooo pretty short

"morty, you can’t come! evil morty, stay out of my way! gonna kill my nemesis! rick out!"

that's all you manage to hear as you get down to the basement a couple second too late.

you pause right as you opened the door to his lab.

"wait did rick say he was going after prime?" your eyes widen and you began to tense up at the thought of rick no longer thinking with his head.

you pause your thinking when you see two morty's, your morty and one with an eye-patch.

"-oh hey evil morty, didn't think i'd ever see you here." you simpered

his eyes narrowed, "trust me, theres alot i would've done to avoid being here in the first place."

"you’re an asshole." your morty grumbled

"well, yeah. I’m not “good” morty."

he opens a yellow portal to follow rick you assume.

"come or don’t. i don’t care."

you get snapped out of your haze

"actually, fuck this. if he wants to go out there and get himself killed he can be my guest." you quickly turn you head and leave the basement sublevel.

you're not his babysitter, but you're still a little worried for the old man. It's not everyday you finally find the person who killed your daughter and wife.

you quickly head up to his room and try to collect all of your thoughts

you begin pacing around the room as your heart rate picks up

rick found prime, morty and evil morty followed him, is evil morty going to kill prime or rick?, why is evil morty even there?, and is this all a trap?

to distract yourself, you take a nap on his bed cot to just put a pause on everything for now.

sure it's uncomfortable, but it'll do

your quick 30 minute napped turned into three hours and you wake up in a sweaty, thirsty daze.

you walk into the kitchen, greet beth and grab a bottle of water

you walk into the garage in time to see rick and morty just back from their battle

morty smiles and waves at you

"crazy fucking day today haha, jeez."

you gave him a light smile and ruffled his hair

once he was out of the room you got a good look at rick and your smile immediately dissipated.

he look disheveled, covered in a shit-ton of blood (a mixture of his and prime's) a broken nose, black eyes, and scratches littering his body

that didn't phase you, what did was the emotionless look on his face

he turned to you, but it didn't look like he was fully there.

"rick," your voice is tight

you don't even know how to articulate yourself, you've never seen him like this.

"that's a lot of blood." you awkwardly chuckle.

"yeah," his voice is toneless.

you quickly reach out to hold his hand, but the quick flinch withheld you.

"well, what are you gonna do now?"

he just looked up from the floor and shrugged his shoulders.

"i can stay, if you want."

he stays silent

you quickly move to sit on the floor against his counters and you pat the space next to you.

he moves to sit next to you and closes his eyes in the comfortable silence.

you move to rest your head in his chest and kiss the parts of his hand without any blood on them while intertwining them with yours.

"i'll stay right here with you, rick. you don't have to be alone."

you hear his body shake as he tries to quietly but violently cries into your hair.

you turn to hold him in your arms as you let the sobs turn into sniffles and then into stuttering breaths.

he grabs onto you like he'll lose you at any moment, and you kiss his tears away while whispering "we're okay," and "i'm not going anywhere."

"can we stay like this for a little?" he quietly rasped out

your mouth curved into a smile "of course, but after this we should get you cleaned up." you open your eyes to stroke his cheek and lock lips.

#rick and morty x reader #rick sanchez #rick c137 #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez x you #unmortricken #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez fanfic #rick sanchez x y/n

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pha55ed · 24 days

Text

Anchor | F2 (kimi bday celly!)

type :: hurt/comfort tw/cw :: none contains :: kimi!, paul, pepe request :: Hey, hope you're all good. I loved the fics that you wrote for the kimi bday special, and wanted to know if you could do the "anchor" one with also paul and maybe Isack or anyone you prefer. (i don't write for isack sadly :( but i did pepe instead to make up for it! i'll try and learn about isack soon, he seems cool) link to kimi bday celly!

Kimi Antonelli | 04

Freezes the second he sees you. Every thought goes through his head, he's a chronic over-thinker since he's so logical. Even though you haven't said a word to him yet, since you were busy crying on the living room couch, he's already assumed that he's done something wrong. He awkwardly walks up to the couch, trying to examine the scene before he talks.

He tries to see if you're hurt physically, if your body language is closed off or open, and whether or not you're having breathing problems - all so he can handle the situation perfectly. So if he sees your body language is closed off, crying nonstop, and you're breathing is rapid, he knows he needs to calm you down instantly and try to not touch you to make you uncomfortable.

But when he sees you're crying, slightly shaky breathing, and your body language being open to him - he rushes to give you a big hug. He instantly wraps his arms around you and gives you a small kiss on your head.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" He asks as he cups your face in-between his two hands. "Do you need anything? What can I do?" His questions are kind of overwhelming, but he has the purest intentions. He's kind of like a nurse, asking a million questions to do their best to accomdate for you.

If you answer his questions, he'll do everything you do asap. He's like the Flash, you don't even know how he did those tasks so fast. But if you can't speak since you're too stressed out, he understands and just stays beside you, hugging you still.

He'll move his hand up and down your back while the other stays near your heart on your back - he's monitering how fast your heart is beating. He tries soothing you in other ways, like brushing your hair, saying reassurances, or giving you kisses, and then he takes note of which calms your heart rate down the most and keep doing those things.

Overall, an amazing comforter. The more and more you cry, the more experience he racks in so he'll be the top-tier therapist that you could ever ask for.

Paul Aron | 17

When he saw you crying on your bathroom floor, sobbing quietly into your hands whilst you let your phone play sad music - he could feel his heart break. Although he's always been more reserved emotionally than other drivers, you were his soft spot. Any pain to you instantly hurt him too.

Right away, he wanted to ask what was wrong, but the words wouldn't come out of his throat for some reason. He could tell that silence was the best way to help you, to not pressure you into saying too much. He sat down next to you, leaning against the wall with you.

His hand reached for your knee, rubbing it in a soothing way. Gently, he asked, "Are you okay?" he knew the answer was no but wanted you to admit it. When he saw you shake your head, he felt his lips turn to a frown on it's own.

He reached over for some toilet paper, making a neat stack as he used it to wipe your tears. There was barely any pressure on the tissue, it felt as if a feather was brushing you. As he wiped your tears, he spoke in a low yet gentle tone.

"You don't need to tell me... But if you do, I'll listen." He says, continuing to wipe your tears. "Or,,, if you want me to leave, I'll do that too."

Being with Paul didn't feel uncomfortable like it did with others. Even with your therapist, you still felt awkward with her at times. But with Paul in the room, there was no pressure to speak or even move. He accepted you for who you are.

If you choose to open up, he listens to every word you say and nods. He comforts you, pats your back, and brushes his fingers through your hair to soothe you.

If you choose to not speak, he respects that and doesn't push you on it. But he is much more aware of your mood for the week following that. It's not in a pity way, but more so to check on you and make sure you're not working too hard. So, he does small things like doing your dishes, fixing your table, etc. He just wants you to relax and cool down from a hard week.

Pepe Marti | 21

When he sees you crying in your bed, wrapped up in a little ball as you hid under the sheets - he froze for a second. He's usually able to predict if you're upset at least a day or two before. So seeing you break down was a shock to him, he feels awful for not seeing your stress beforehand.

He instantly runs to you and tries to soothe you right away, trying his best to calm you down. Sitting you up on the bed while he kneeled on the floor next to you. Using his hands, he wipes your tears, sweeping them to the side.

"Amor, what's wrong?" He ask you tenderly, "You can tell me..." His voice was soft to listen to, soothing to your ears. He kept using open hand to catch your tears while the other was on your shoulder, rubbing circles.

But he understands that sometimes you still need time to process what's happening before you can talk about it. So, if you're not ready to speak about what happened at the moment, he understands and lets you have some space. But once you're calmer, he'll ask you again.

Not because he wants to force you to talk, but he knows that explaining your emotions and venting will get rid of those feelings even faster. But if you still aren't ready, he wont' force you - he'll jsut always check up on you.

After that day, he makes sure to be slightly more gentle with you. But he knows how degrading it can feel to be treated like a baby after you cry, so he doesn't' try to treat you too differently. He still makes little jokes at you but he adds a kiss to your forehead at the end, to assure you that he's just joking.

He'll wait forever until you're ready to tell him what's wrong. He doesn't care how long it takes, as long as you tell him one day and you're comfortable telling him.

#f1 #f2 #andrea kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli x reader #paul aron #paul aron x reader #pepe marti #pepe martí #pepe marti x reader #formula 1 #formula 2 #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 2 x reader

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stairain · 1 year

Text

Mommy's Boyfriend.

While dropping off your son at school, the last thing you expect is your ex-boyfriend Mr.Reid to be his teacher.

Warnings: Soft Dom Spencer, Mother reader, Your child is unnamed don't think too much about it, make-up sex, cunnilingus, begging, gentle-ish sex, doggy style, light choking, cream pie, he loves you too much.

WC: 7.1K

It was the first day of school, and you were dropping your son off, walking through the hallway and holding the little boy's hand. As you passed through various rooms, you smiled at passing teachers and students. When you finally make it to your son's classroom, you kneel down and kiss his forehead before saying a few encouraging words to him, patting his back before urging him into the room.

"I'll see you in a few hours, love.."

You say to him as he walks away from you. When you stand up, you're not at all expecting Spencer to be standing there behind you. The two of you had broken up just before summer started, and although you knew he was a teacher, you were really hoping you didn't see him today.

What are the chances he’s your son's teacher? Apparently very high ones.

You give him a forced polite smile before trying to walk away from him as quickly as you could.

As Spencer watches you go, he’s hit with a wave of shame, guilt, and disgust. He should never have let things end the way he had. He should’ve tried to fix things but, instead, he had just given up. It was something he would never forgive himself for. He decides that he’s not going to let you go without at least knowing that he regrets his actions. He walks after you.

"Hey."

You hear him, and the clicking of your heels against the floor speeds up as you try to get away from him as fast as possible.

"Wait.." He says in a calm, firm, serious voice with a hint of a pleading tone. He picks up his pace and is quickly closing the distance between you two. When he moves closer to you, he reaches a hand out to plant on your shoulder, trying to stop you.

When you shrug off his hand, he purses his lips and quickly runs in front of you, so you're forced to stop. You blink at the quick movement and look up at him with eyes full of undercover malice. Pushing your tongue into your cheek in annoyance, you quietly snap at him, so as to not attract a crowd.

"Can I help you?"

Spencer looks at you with eyes that are full of regret, sadness, shame, and longing. He takes a small step closer to you. You can see that he’s upset, but most of the emotions he is feeling are negative ones directed at himself. He looks like he wants to hug you and cry at the same time, but he is restraining himself, far too scared to make you even angrier at him. Even in all of his sadness and regret there is still a little bit of love in his eyes, and it looks like he’s about to cry.

You bite your lips as the look in his eyes still never ceases to make you melt. With a small shake of your head, you speak.

"Listen, it's been great seeing you, but I just came to drop off my kid, alright?" You push past him and start walking towards the front doors, not wanting to be around him any longer than you already have.

Spencer reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can make it to the door. He looks at you with pleading eyes, still full of the same negative self-loathing emotions, but there’s a glint of hope and love in them.

"Wait–please." He says, his tone now urgent. "I just need two minutes of your time; to explain."

You take a deep breath and look down at your watch before you look back at him. "Don't you have a job to do?"

Spencer takes a deep breath and his eyes narrow before his expression softens again. "Yes, I do," he says.

"But, I'll go to work every day for the rest of my life. Please, just two minutes of your time." He looks desperate and pleading but, if you refuse again, he seems like he’ll let you go.

It hurts you to admit it, but his words make your heart swell. If there was one thing he was always good at doing, it was putting you first. But ironically, that's what got the two of you here in the first place. With wavering eyes, you look around before sighing, and agreeing.

"Two minutes."

A huge wave of relief washes over Spencer and he can't help but smile a little bit. He walks you to a quiet place to talk. Once you are out of earshot of everyone around he looks at you with regretful eyes, and his voice begins to crack a bit.

"I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you and I am so sorry for the way I treated you. I was too caught up in my work and didn't give our relationship the attention it needed and I regret it every day. Please, forgive me."

You shake your head and look down at anywhere but him, because you know the second your gaze locks with those puppy-dog eyes you've always adored, all of your progress of "getting over him" in the past few months would go to waste in a heartbeat.

"I-I don't know, Spence.."

You hadn't even noticed the way you referred to him as his nickname you always used to call him, too caught up in your emotions to acknowledge it now.

"Please," His voice sounds desperate, like he might break down any moment now.

"I would do anything to fix what I have done. Please, just give me one more chance. I will never take you or our relationship for granted again. I love you."

As those last few words escape his lips his voice breaks and he looks like he might just get down on both knees and beg you. He looks completely ready and willing to show you, not just tell you, how sorry he is and that he can and will make things right.

Raising your chin a little to look at him through teary lashes, you run your thumb along your waterline. With a heavy sigh, you finally find the courage to look him in the eyes.

"You have a class to teach, Spencer. I'm sorry."

"I'll call in sick. I'd walk away from my job in an instant if it meant I got you back."

His voice is desperate as it breaks again and tears well up in his eyes.

"Please, love. Just give me a chance."

He looks heartbroken, and this is probably the most emotional, intense, and passionate he has ever been about his love for you and it's hard for you to resist. You’re sure you'll be making a mistake by saying no, but at the same time, you feel you’ll be making an even bigger mistake by saying yes.

You almost laugh at his words, but you stop yourself before you do. If you laughed in his face right now, you know he'd absolutely be crushed. With a sad smile, you sniff.

"Don't do that, Spencer."

With one last look at your watch, you barely think about the next words that leave your mouth. You were just saying whatever he wanted to hear, you couldn't help it. Even after everything, you just wanted to please him.

"Listen, I- School ends at three, right? When I come to pick him up, we can talk more, okay?"

Spencer is absolutely thrilled by how things just went. He fully expected you to just walk out on him, and he wouldn’t even blame you. He tries to hide the happiness on his face but he's unable to prevent himself from letting a small smile creep onto his lips. He nods his head in agreement.

"Three o'clock," He says in a calming, but still emotional, voice. "I'll be right here." He looks over you for a second before he turns and walks away, still clearly full of hope and optimism.

And you're left in the room by yourself and your thoughts as he walks out. You know this is a mistake, and you should've just ignored him and went on with your life, but it was too late now. In a battle with your heart and your head, you think you're going to let your heart win.

As the day passes, you're running errands and doing some work of your own, but your mind is somewhere else.

It's only two thirty, you've got another half hour until you see him again, and you feel your nerves race through your body. As you sit in your car in silence, the sound of your heart pounding in your chest rings in your ears, and it taunts you.

You can't help but feel excited as you think about finally getting the chance to talk to him and try to work things out despite knowing full well that this is a bad idea. Part of you still wants to run, but the idea of having him in your life again feels like a dream come true and it’s hard to resist that kind of temptation when it is just within your grasp.

At three o'clock Spencer is waiting at the school, just as he promised, hoping you won't change your mind.

Taking a deep breath and shaking out your hands, you get out of the car and begin to walk towards the entrance of the school. All of the other children and parents were walking back to their own cars, and you remember then that your son had after-school sports, and he wouldn't be going home with you now.

At least it gave you and Spencer more time to speak. As you walk closer to him, the pounding of your pulse fills all of your senses, and you force a polite smile on your face.

As you approach him he smiles and hugs you. His arms are warm and comforting, and just having him hold you again makes you feel better. You can tell he is nervous too, you can see it in the way his eyes are darting around and how he keeps fidgeting his hands. You can also tell that he’s trying to keep his composure and has the same polite smile you do. He's trying to act like things are normal and like he isn't just dying of impatience for when you two can go somewhere to have a serious conversation.

With a small push to his chest, you break the hug with an awkward chuckle. His touch felt so nice, so comforting, but it was too much for you right now. You clear your throat as you stand in front of him with your arms behind your back and stutter as you speak.

When you push him away you can see a little bit of hurt in his eyes before it’s quickly replaced with understanding and patience.

"I-I forgot that.. I forgot my son has soccer practice now.. So I don't have to pick him up for a few hours.." Your voice is wavering and sheepish, and you sound so unsure of yourself. The woman you were this morning, strong and unwilling to speak to the man in front of you was traded for a whole new persona, one that couldn't help but fumble under the gaze of Spencer.

"I see." He says in a calm, comforting tone, "Then, what would you like to do? Where would you like to talk?" As he speaks you can see him relax a little bit, but he is still filled with nervous energy, but it's clear that he’s trying to help you calm down.

And before you can stop yourself.

"We could go back to my place.."

When you say those words a huge smile makes its way across Spencer's face. He nods in agreement and takes your hand in his. You let him hold it.

"Your place, it is." As he speaks he leads you to his car and opens the passenger side door for you before getting into the driver's side himself. He turns to look at you to make sure you've gotten in safely and smiles again before turning forward to drive from the school to your house. As he drives, your thoughts race. You start thinking of all the ways this could go wrong, and they outweigh everything that could go right.

It almost hurts your heart that he still remembers where you live, without a GPS or directions. It's like he never really forgot, how could he? It's all muscle memory to him.

As Spencer drives, a wave of nostalgia hits him hard. He can't help but remember all the sweet moments you have had at your place. He remembers the long nights, and the quiet mornings. He remembers the way you used to make him feel.

Then it hits him, these are the same feelings that made him make the huge, dumb mistake that got him in this situation in the first place. If he doesn't want to lose you again he’s going to have to do everything in his power to fix his mistakes and do everything he needs to do in order to make you happy.

Pulling into your driveway, you swallow before unbuckling yourself and stepping out of the car. You don't wait on him as you're walking up the pavement to your front door, pushing it open and walking inside.

Spencer gets out of the car and follows you inside, closing the door gently behind him. He walks over to you and looks at you with intense love and affection in his eyes. Before you can speak, he gives you a long, passionate kiss. For those few seconds he is able to forget everything and all he can think about is just how much he's missed you and how much he loves you. When he finally pulls away, you can see how hard he had to try to pull himself away in the first place, he missed the taste of your lips on his.

"I love you.."

You gasp against his lips when he breaks the kiss, and the way your eyes widen almost rivals the moon. The nerve of him, you thought. But when his hands reach up to cradle your jaw, you can feel the anger fizzling into pathetic dust and you pull him in for another bruising kiss.

Spencer kisses you back passionately and his arms wrap all the way around your waist in the embrace. A wave of calm crashes over him as he holds you close to him because nothing feels better in the moment than being close to you again.

After a few minutes of kissing you he pulls back just a little bit to look at you and breathlessly speak.

"I missed you," he says, a little breathless, "So much."

Your eyes are full of passion and vexation towards him and you all but growl out your words.

"Shut up and kiss me." Grabbing the collar of his dress shirt, you deal another violent kiss to him.

"Yes, ma'am."

Is all he can say as he moves in again. He had to pry your mouth away from him for air, and he leans in to kiss you again, but this time, instead of going straight for your mouth he makes his way to your neck. He’s leaning over slightly as kisses your neck, your ears, and your jaw in a playful move that has more passion behind it than playfulness, but you can still tell he is trying to tease you.

Growing impatient and letting months of pent up emotions control you, you grab his hand on your head and forcefully move it down to your ass, putting your hand overtop of his as you make him squeeze your rear.

Spencer lets out a gentle groan at the feeling of you gripped in his hand, and grabs the handful roughly, digging his fingers into the denim of your jeans.

"Now, can we talk?" His voice is gravelly and breathless.

You’re pushing his body back until the backs of his knees hit the couch, and he sits down on it. You sit down next to him and begin to kiss up his neck, one of your hands moving to hold his jaw steady.

"Go ahead.." You murmur against his neck as you press a wet and sloppy kiss against the goosebump raised skin.

Spencer lets out a small chuckle at how much you seem to be enjoying this. He's loving every second of it and he just smiles as his eyes start to go a little bit cross-eyed as he leans back into you.

"Stop that. I don't think I can hold a coherent thought like this."

His voice is half serious and half playful, still filled with the same passion and lust for you it has been the whole time.

"You're a genius, figure it out." Your voice is low and teasing as you bare your teeth against the flesh and nibble at it, leaving small, red marks.

Spencer groans a little bit as a shiver runs down his spine at the feeling of your teeth against his skin. His eyes go a little bit more cross-eyed the longer you do it to him.

"Please," His voice is a little bit breathless and it's unclear if he is asking you to stop or if he's just asking you to take a little break from it so he can finish his sentence. "I'm begging."

Despite his words, you continue to suck at his neck, determined to mark him as yours once more. He was right, you two needed to talk about it, but you were a little preoccupied at the moment. Smiling against his skin, you lick over a fresh hickey.

“Haven't changed much then, Spence.."

Spencer lets out a small noise that is part moan, part whine, and part laugh. His eyes are just about completely rolled back into his skull at this point.

"I can't talk at all while you're doing this," His voice is strained but it's clear he is trying desperately to keep a playful tone to it. "You're not going to make this easy are you?" You can hear him take a deep breath as he is just barely able to calm himself down enough to give you a warning.

"Nothing about this is easy, love.." The pet name just slips from your mouth, as if it were a habit. You don't dwell on it for too long as you lift yourself onto his lap and continue to kiss and mark his neck.

Spencer moves slightly to make it easier for you to sit on his lap and he lets out a soft sigh when he feels your weight against him and once again he can't help but smile.

"Baby," He says, his voice getting just a little bit more sincere now as he gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, "Please..." he asks one last time with pleading in his eyes.

"I have a lot to talk to you about. I'm not sure how you feel about everything but I promise it will be okay if you let me explain."

With a final press of your lips against him, you pull back and rest your hands on his shoulders.

"Speak then."

The man takes a deep breath and speaks with the most sincerity you have ever heard in his voice.

"I am truly, truly, sorry for what I did to you," His voice cracks at the end of the word ‘you’ as he gets emotional again. He takes a few more deep breaths to compose himself before tearily speaking again. You can see how much he means the things he is saying and how much it hurts him having to tell you this.

“You didn’t and don’t deserve anything I did to you. I was wrong, and I’m sorry."

You had hoped the cloud of lust that sat between the two of you was enough to distract and mask the real reason why he was here, and you sigh. The arousal in your body fades and is quickly replaced with solemnness.

"I didn't deserve it, and I so badly want to hate you, Spencer." He reaches a hand out to run through your hair as you talk, and you lean into his comforting touch. "I spent months wanting to scream at you, yell at you for how you treated me. I wasn't even going to talk to you today, really.."

At your words Spencer's eyes fill with regret. He can only imagine how hard and awful the past few months must have been for you and to know he is the one who put you through it all makes him feel like he's a monster.

"I can't blame you, I know I'm a terrible person.. I really do." Spencer's voice cracks and tears start to form in his eyes too, he looks at you with a sad, pitiful look in his eyes. "You didn't deserve any of it, baby. I don't know what I was thinking.."

You tilt your head to the side at his words and pout at the way he's putting himself down. With a slightly trembling hand, you reach to wipe the tears forming in his eyes.

"You're not a terrible person, Spence. Just.." Taking a deep breath, you actually think about your response this time. When you come to a conclusion, you don't know if it's the right one or not. "Just, promise not to do it again, alright?"

Spencer watches you as you wipe away the tears that have formed in his eyes. He looks up and meets your eyes with some of the most pure love and devotion he has ever had. He slowly nods his head in agreement as a small smile starts to form on his face at your response.

"I promise, my love... I will do anything to make up for what I've done."

His words are filled with so much love and compassion it almost seems impossible that he is the same man who hurt you so many months ago.

You slowly nod and swallow, and try to push away the already rising feelings of sadness and regret.

"Can I kiss you without being interrupted, now?"

Spencer chuckles a little and nods.

"Of course you can... I've been dying for one." He gives you a playful wink and a playful shove to your shoulder before turning to kiss you deeply. When he pulls away his eyes are filled with the same passion and desire you have always loved, and a bit of the same lust you felt earlier as well. He smiles at you as he leans back on the couch and wraps his hands on your hips.

"Come closer. I've missed you so much."

A warm feeling fills your body at his words and you grab the back of his head to tug him into a hot and heavy kiss, full of pent up emotions of anger, lust, love, and hurt.

Spencer moves in for the kiss with just as much desire and lust as you. He lets out a small, playful moan as you pull on his hair, he grabs your waist as you kiss him and a small smile forms on his mouth.

As your lips break apart he catches his breath for a minute but he seems unable to resist you for too long as he pulls you in again for another kiss, this one even stronger than the one before and his hands start to wander under your clothes to the small of your back. Just one moment seems to be too long without his arms around you and his lips on yours.

A sigh of satisfaction pours from your mouth into his, and the feeling of his hands on your bare skin was a sensation you've gone far too long without. His fingers swirling up the flesh of your back feels like it's burning you in the best way, and you're all too eager to finally connect with him again.

Moving your hands to take off your shirt, you pull away from the kiss, much to his disappointment. As you tug the fabric off your body and over your head, you're left in your bra and jeans as you look up at him through long lashes and sultry eyes.

Spencer gasps at the sight of you and it takes all of his restraint not to just pounce you like an animal. A grin washes across his face and that devilish glint returns to his eyes once more.

“You are more beautiful than I ever remembered,” He says in a way that is both flirtatious but also full of love and adoration. He smiles as he looks up at you.

“Will you allow me the honor of taking those off of you?”

"Please.." Is all you can mewl out, lust washing over your entire body, just ready to be his again.

At your words, Spencer's eyes light up with excitement and he smiles widely before getting off the couch and kneeling down in front of you. He slowly reaches out to the clasp of your bra and undoes it before slowly sliding it down your arms and off of you. He doesn't even try to hide his joy, it's evident in just how much he's smiling and the glimmer in his eye.

"You're still so perfect, my love... Just like a goddess." He whispers as he reaches to undo your jeans and unzip them.

You lift your bottom a bit off the couch to help him pull your pants down your legs, moaning softly at the cool air hitting your skin. Your arms cross over your chest, not used to being exposed like this after so long.

Spencer can't take his eyes away from you as he takes in your body again and a deep, content sigh escapes his lips as he looks at you.

"God.. You're more beautiful than I ever thought was possible," He whispers in amazement as his eyes take in your exposed body. "And you're just as beautiful on the inside too. I’m sorry it took me so long to understand that.."

You can feel your breath hitching at his words, and a warm blush spreads over your cheeks, and you slowly lower your hands from over your chest, and rest them next to your bare thighs. You're only left in your panties now, sitting on the couch as he's kneeling in front of you.

Spencer's heart speeds up and he breathes heavily as he takes in the view in front of him. It's almost a little overwhelming, but all he can manage to do is take it in and admire you as he is left speechless for a moment. Finally, he comes to and he slowly moves in to touch your thighs. He takes his time and caresses them softly with his fingertips.

At his soft soft, you flinch slightly before letting your body relax. You trusted him, even after so long.

You can see the care and love in every soft caress that Spencer deals to your delicate body. His slow, steady touch is done with an intensity and a passion that almost seems to radiate off of him and you can feel it as his fingertips glide over the skin of your thighs. You don't know if you have ever felt someone be so delicate, slow, and methodical with something before but it’s beautiful, almost like he was dealing with a piece of art.

Subconsciously, you feel yourself slowly spreading your legs as you watch his large hands move towards your body, and take the bands of your underwear in his fingers. He looks up at you for approval.

Spencer's breath catches in his throat and you can see his jaw practically hanging open as he's overwhelmed by the view that's in front of him. "You're beautiful, darling.." He says like it's a prayer. He lets out a soft sigh, and he nods in approval before slowly taking the bands off and peeling them down your legs.

You moan now that you're fully exposed in front of him, and all previous confidence you had in you has completely dissipated under his intense glare. Once the air flushes against your bare, soaked cunt, it makes you shudder with a shiver.

Spencer's eyes narrow down on you and they burn with passion and emotion at seeing you there on the couch in front of him, all spread out and ready for him. He's lost in you for a minute and you can see it as his breath hitches and his jaw is still hanging half open. He still moves with deliberate, slow, and gentle touches as he moves his hand to the top of your thigh.

"Baby.. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers breathless, almost as though he is stunned by just the sight of you.

Moving your legs, you hook your calf around the back of his head, pulling him closer to your spread thighs, and there's a devilish smirk on your face.

He’s caught aback by how you pull him closer to your core and his eyes go wide at the gesture. He seems a little bit surprised but in the end he doesn't argue, instead he lets out a small chuckle and moves in closer to the point that the front of his face is pressed up against your thighs.

"What are you doing to me, love?" He asks innocently with a smirk of his own as he looks up at you with an amused smile on his face. His warm breath is ghosting over your glistening hole, and it makes you all the more desperate for him.

“Making up for lost time.”

You pull him in closer with your leg latched around him, urging him to get on with it already. You hadn’t slept with anyone since the two of you broke up, and you never really had time to take care of yourself. But that’s what he was there for.

“Guess I better get to work, then..”

Spencer huskily spoke before leaning down and encasing your puffy clit between his spit slicked lips. The sensation instantly made you arch your back and jolt away from him, but he was quick to wrap his hands and arms under your thighs and over your hips, forcing you closer.

As he pulls you closer, his long wet tongue peeks out from his mouth and licks a broad stripe up your cunt, tasting just how much you missed him. With each lick, he was lapping up at your juices like a man starved, moaning at the way your slick coated his tongue.

Your lips were parted in a high pitched mewl, and you squeezed his head tighter with your legs. It made him dizzy, being suffocated by your shaking thighs and your gushing pussy, and he couldn’t have asked to be anywhere better.

The wet muscle between your folds was pistoning in and out of you like heavy machinery, working you just the way you needed. You could feel your cunt contracting around him, further gushing your arousal on his tongue.

Spencer was breathlessly moaning into your core, not being able to contain it. He was agonizingly hard in his pants, and it took everything in him to pry himself away from you. When he does, he deals one last slow, tortuous lick up your folds, before licking his lips and backing away.

You look up at him with pleading eyes, and he was already working on lifting you from the couch, quickly making his way into the hallway and where he knew your bedroom was.

You could feel your still soaked cunt rubbing against the silky fabric of his shirt, and couldn't help but grind your hips down against it. You had been so touch starved, that even this tiny bit of satisfaction made your breath catch in your throat.

He gently laid you down on the bed, making sure your head was rested against a pillow, before he practically tore the buttons off his shirt trying to take it off. And his pants were no different, the leather of his belt slid against the fabric of his dress pants, and as soon as you heard a small clank of metal against your floor, his pants followed suit.

When he was fully undressed, and crawled over your body until he was caging you underneath him, and the sight of his slightly sweaty hair falling over his face made your chest heavy with emotion.

Spencer leans down to kiss a line from your chin to your jaw, before stopping at your ear and lowly whispering into it.

“Think you can let me take care of you again, like old times?”

And it’s almost like his voice has put you under a trance, because before he can even finish, you’re nodding. It didn’t matter what he asked of you, you’d always say yes.

He lifts himself away from you with a small mirrored nod, before hoisting you by your waist and flipping your pliant body around, and propping a pillow under your stomach and hips.

The cool material pressed against your sweat sheened skin made you sigh, and his rough hands traced over the curves of your hips and ass like he was trying to relive all the nights that he used to have you like this; plush ass bent over in front of him, soaked cunt begging for attention, spread legs practically inviting him between them.

He swallows at the memories, and has a hard time convincing himself this is actually happening again. But he doesn’t dwell on it for too long, whether or not you’re really in front of him, or he’s just dreaming again, he can’t leave you like this. He loves you too much.

Trembling hands find the heavy bobbing length of his cock, and he grabs himself at the base, shakily squeezing in order to urge himself to not cum immediately. You deserved better than that. You deserved so much better than everything he could give you, and he promised himself he’d somehow redeem himself.

There wasn’t a better time to start than now, he thinks to himself as he tilts his hips forward to rub the leaking tip of his member against the silky folds of your cunt. And thank goodness he’s kneeling, because the second he felt soft, wet flesh against him, he would’ve collapsed.

“G-God.. Missed this..”

You lift your head slightly from where it’s pressed against the pillow, and look back at him with a lazy smile. Your voice is slighted muffled against the fabric, but he understands you.

“Didn’t get laid over the summer, Spence?”

You lift your ass higher, arching your back further so he would get the memo to fuck you already, and with a shake of his head and the cant of his hips, he’s easing himself inside of you, inch by inch.

“N-No.. Was always yours, love.”

The smile slowly falls from your face and you turn back around to bury your face in the pillow, trying to play it off with a pleasured sigh.

The two of you had stayed loyal to one another, despite everything. The thought made your heart swell and your cunt clench. He was unmistakably yours, and he always would be, no matter what.

The squeeze of your hole around him forced him inside of you quicker than he had planned on, and he had to bite his lip, breaking skin, to stop himself from finishing right there and then. He grunted as he tried to regain control over himself, and pushed himself the rest of the way inside of you.

When he was buried to the hilt inside of you, your eyes rolled back into your skull and you bit at the pillow to stop yourself from screaming. He filled you so perfectly, just as he used to. It felt right, like he belonged nowhere else but entirely swallowed by your cunt.

Spencer mutters out a few curses to himself before he’s draping himself over your body, pressing his firm chest against your damp back. His mouth is right by your ear, and you move your head to the side a bit to hear him better.

And hear him better you definitely do. You can feel the heave of his chest as he breathlessly begins to withdraw his cock from inside of you. The rub of his veiny, long length dragging along your soft walls had you cursing like a sailor.

As his breaths and moans quicken, so does the shove of his hips against your ass. He was so deep inside of you it was a miracle he was even able to pull himself out of you, but he managed to do it just fine. There were no complaints from you whatsoever as you felt him imprint the image of his tip right against your spot with every thrust he dealt to you.

Your hands were planted out in front of you, gripping at the fabric of the comforter when his own came and fully encompassed them. Spencer intertwined your fingers together as the visceral sound of your pussy sucking him deeper and deeper filled your ears.

Every time he humped into you, your clit brushed against the pillow, and it only made your cries of pleasure grow louder. The friction was dizzying, and you unknowingly clench around him impossibly tighter.

And he just about loses his mind at that moment. When he’s sucked flush against your body, he goes cross eyed and squeezes your hands in his, as if trying to ground himself. A guttural groan leaves him and it’s a few more moments before he’s panting in your ear as he starts to move once more.

He pulled back his hips to let his cock slide halfway out of you, before forcing himself back into that tight drenched cunt of yours. You can feel the spurt of arousal that leaks out of you at the force of his thrust, and you writhed at the feeling.

Your body shakes underneath his as the combined feeling of grinding yourself down against the pillow and how deliciously his length abused your cervix and puffy folds drives you mad. You were gasping for air, trading your desperate moans and whines for a chance at breathing.

“Sp-Spence.. Baby–please.”

There wasn’t one single thought in your brain that knew what you were begging for, but somehow, Spencer knew exactly what to give you.

“L-Love you so much, sweet thing..”

He moans out to you, then he leans down unbelievably closer to you. He lets go of one of your hands to wrap his own around your neck, grabbing at your throat as gently as he can to urge your face up to kiss him.

It’s a little hard to catch his lips with yours, as with each plow into you sent your body forward, along with how heavily he was breathing. But when you do, the two of you seal your lips together in a passionate, burning kiss.

His grip around your throat tightens a bit, and it’s enough to entirely set you off the edge. With one more ground of your hips against the pillow, and one more stamp of his cock against that little spongy spot inside of you, you’re suddenly soaking everything around you.

The wet noise of your release is all you and him can hear, as you’re spraying your arousal all over his hips, his cock, your thighs, and those poor sheets underneath the two of you. Your eyes cross almost comically at the feeling of your orgasm rushing through you, and Spencer is doing no better.

As he feels you squirt all over him, he curses into your ear and his entire body goes rigid. His hips still and he pushes himself as deep as he can possibly get before dumping everything he’s worth right into your soaked velvet core, sending ribbon after ribbon of his cum right against your cervix.

“F-Fuck.. Fuck.. fuck..”

All you can think about is how full you are. His cock is miraculously still hard inside of you, even though he’s emptied everything he’s got into you, and his thick cum is practically fighting for any room left you’ve got inside you.

Wet. Wet would be the only word to describe the scene you’ve found yourself in. Your body goes limp against the soaked bed, and his sweat drenched body finds itself at the same fate as he collapses against you. The hand around your throat loosens and snakes its way back to your lonely hand, intertwining them once again.

The both of you are panting against each other's faces for god knows how long, and neither of you have moved a muscle. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, running down the expanse of your thighs to join the puddles of your own arousal that pool against the bed.

With a groan, he slowly pulled out of you, and it was like pulling the plug to a well, because the second his cock left your hole, a gush of a mixture of your arousals flowed out of you.

He chuckles at the sight, while you just moan softly. Spencer lays down right next to you and pulls your body against his, so you’re chest to chest. He reaches to move your sweaty hair out of your face, pressing a warm kiss against your sticky cheek. When he speaks, his voice is strained and you wouldn’t be surprised if he had lost his voice.

“You know, he was talking about you during class today..”

The slight rasp and squeak in his voice is problematically attractive to you, but you don’t think you could deal with another orgasm after flooding your own bed.

You shake your head and groan softly at his words.

“Oh god, what’d he say?”

“He kept saying to everyone, ‘Mr.Reid is Mommy’s boyfriend!’”

The tone in his voice heightens as he tries his best to imitate your son's words. You groan again and close your eyes.

“And I’m guessing you didn’t say anything to him about it?”

Your voice is strained and laced with faux annoyance, but he sees right through it. Spencer huffs out a small laugh and presses a kiss to your forehead. With the arm that’s holding you against him, he squeezes your shoulders lightly, as if to tease you.

“Course I didn’t, can’t embarrass him like that..”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh and he pulls you closer to him as you shake your head.

“You’re the worst, I hope you know.” Your tone is playful and teasing, but you can feel yourself relaxing in his hold, allowing yourself to savor the moment for the time being.

“Maybe, but at least I’m ‘Mommy’s boyfriend’ again..”

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