#cold sore cure | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nouearth · 22 days ago

Text

when the snow settles.

clark kent x male reader.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. clark’s busy spoiling his sick boyfriend with cookies and cuddles—until things heat up when someone decides a kiss (and more) is the real cure for a cold.

𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 & 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓. one-shot [ 6.0k ].

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. male reader 〳 corenswet!clark 〳 established relationship 〳 sick!reader 〳 christmas!au 〳 sexual content: top!clark, bottom!reader, belly-bulging, breeding, rimming (r!receiving), praising, body worship, clark can alter the temp of his body (and dick).

Snow fell softly outside the apartment, blanketing Metropolis in a serene hush that contrasted sharply with the sound of sniffling from the couch. Clark’s living room was cozy, aglow with the golden twinkle of Christmas lights strung up around the windows. The faint scent of pine mingled with the sweet aroma of gingerbread baking in the oven, though the stuffy haze of your cold dulled the sharpness of both.

You sat bundled in a mountain of blankets, a tissue box on one side and a half-empty mug of tea on the other. Despite the misery of a congested head and the scratchy soreness in your throat, you couldn’t help but watch Clark with a mix of amusement and adoration.

In the kitchen, he moved with a carefree confidence, humming along to Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas as it played softly on his phone. He had insisted on baking cookies for the evening, declaring it the perfect way to boost your holiday cheer. Not that you needed much help in that department—his reindeer antler headband, bouncing with every step he took, was doing most of the work.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his strong forearms, and his glasses had fogged up slightly from the warmth of the oven. Even with the goofy apron he wore—a red and green monstrosity with “Santa’s Favorite Helper” embroidered across the front—he looked unfairly attractive.

Clark glanced over his shoulder at you, a soft smile spreading across his face as his gaze met yours. “You okay over there?” he asked, his voice gentle. “Need more tea? Another blanket? A better boyfriend?”

You groaned theatrically, flopping back into the throw pillows. “What I need is for my head to stop feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton.”

And stones—your flair for drama only worsened the throbbing ache from the sudden movement.

Setting down a tray of freshly baked cookies, Clark wiped his hands on a dishtowel and made his way over to you. He knelt beside the couch, one hand reaching up to take the temperature from your forehead while the other rested lightly on your knee through the blanket.

His touch was warm, steady, grounding.

“Still running hot. Sorry you’re feeling this way,” he said sincerely, his brow furrowing just a little. “If I could punch a cold in the face, you know I would.”

You laughed, but it quickly dissolved into a coughing fit. Clark was at your side in an instant, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back until the worst of it passed. “It’s so unfair that you never get sick,” you rasped, your voice rough and strained. “You’re just… immune to everything. Meanwhile, I’m over here melting into a Christmas puddle.”

“Wow. This is the thanks I get for baking you cookies? My boyfriend wishing ill on me?” He chuckled, resting his elbows on the edge of the couch to stay level with your gaze. "If it makes you feel better, Krypto would probably be thrilled to drink you up if you were a puddle! Likes his water from the spring... spoiled dog."

His grin was boyish and a little smug, and you rolled your eyes at him, though the corners of your lips twitched upward.

“What I’m saying is… we could’ve been sick together,” you muttered, “But I can’t even enjoy them. Look here.” You picked up one of the gingerbread cookies Clark had carefully decorated earlier, the icing swirls and tiny candy buttons a testament to his painstaking attention to detail.

The cookie felt firm yet inviting in your hand, its edges slightly crisp and still warm from the oven. Breaking off a piece, you popped it into your mouth, hopeful that even through the fog of your cold, some of the sweetness might break through.

Instead, all you got was the texture—a faint crunch that dissolved into a soft crumble on your tongue. The spice you knew should be there, the warm bite of ginger and cinnamon that normally screamed Christmas, was muted to the point of nonexistence.

You frowned, swallowing the flavorless bite with effort. A sharp, scratchy sting flared in your throat, the dry irritation making each swallow feel more uncomfortable than the last. The lack of taste was almost offensive, a cruel reminder of how thoroughly your cold had robbed you of simple joys.

Clark’s eyes flicked over to you, catching your expression as you set the rest of the cookie down with a defeated sigh. “Nothing?” he asked, his voice tinged with sympathy.

“Absolutely nothing,” you muttered, your voice still scratchy. “I might as well be eating cardboard.”

Clark chuckled softly, getting up on his feet to sit beside you. “Guess that means more for me, huh?” He reached for a cookie, his teasing grin faltering when he saw your pout, but his craving persisted nonetheless. “Hey, don’t worry,” he added, nudging your shoulder gently. “Once you’re better, I’ll bake you a whole new batch. Extra ginger, just the way you like it.”

“Yeah…”

Clark bit into a gingerbread cookie with gusto, clearly enjoying his own handiwork as he snuggled beside you on the couch.

“Mmm,” he hummed dramatically, his eyes widening as he made a show of savoring the bite. “Oh, wow. These might be my best yet. Sweet, spicy, perfectly baked—chef’s kiss.” He gestured extravagantly, grinning like he’d just won a baking competition.

“Not saying these aren’t good, but I’m pretty sure the last time you made cookies, Krypto got more excited than I did."

You were about to roll your eyes at his antics when you noticed a speck of icing clinging to the corner of his mouth and a small crumb nestled in the dimple of his cheek. It was such a ridiculously human detail—charming in its imperfection—that you felt a sudden pang of affection bloom in your chest.

“Here,” you said, laughing softly as you reached up and brushed the crumb away with your thumb, your fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. His skin was warm, and the bashful smile that tugged at his lips made your stomach flip.

“Didn't stop you from cleaning out the cookie tray...” he murmured, his cheeks pinking slightly as he quickly licked the icing from the corner of his mouth, completely oblivious to how endearing he looked. "Thanks."

You shook your head, biting back a grin. “You’re a mess,” you teased, but your voice was far softer than usual, betraying just how much the sight of him—unpolished, sweet, and so effortlessly Clark—had utterly disarmed you.

Clark’s smile softened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. His lips lingered for a moment, warm and impossibly tender against your fevered skin. When he pulled back, he looked at you with that impossibly earnest expression that always made your heart twist.

“It’s nice, though, isn’t it?” Clark murmured, his voice soft and warm, like the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting off his glasses. “The cookies, the Christmas specials, the decorations… being snowed in together. Like a Hallmark movie, but… not terrible?”

You could see the flicker of nostalgia in his eyes as he spoke, his tone carrying a quiet sincerity that made your heart ache in the best way. The soft crackle of the digital fireplace playing on the TV and the distant hum of holiday music only made the moment feel more intimate, as if the world outside had disappeared entirely.

A warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with fever. Clark had this infuriating knack for making everything—even being sick—feel like a kind of blessing, as long as he was beside you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, your voice rough but laced with affection. “Talking like I’ve got only two months left to live…” You tried for sarcasm, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Clark’s grin softened into something more tender, his gaze unwavering as he watched you. “Yeah,” you admitted quietly, letting out a small sigh. “It’s nice. Really nice.”

The weight of your words hung between you for a moment, and the corners of Clark’s mouth twitched upward again, this time into a bashful little smile. He didn’t say anything more—he didn’t need to.

Instead, his hand found yours beneath the blanket, his thumb brushing softly against your knuckles, as if to say everything he didn’t put into words.

You knew he was the strongest man in the world, but it was these quiet moments—his sincerity, his kindness—that made you feel like you were the one holding something unbreakable.

Clark squeezed your hand gently, his expression melting into something tender and a little uncertain. He studied you for a long moment, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. “You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked softly. “I mean, really okay? I know I’m supposed to cheer you up, but I don’t want to push too much—especially if you’re not feeling great.”

You leaned your head back against the cushions, exhaling a soft sigh. “Clark, I’m fine,” you said, your voice still raspy but carrying enough exasperation to make your point. “I mean, yeah, I feel like I’ve been hit by a snowplow, but it’s not like I’m about to collapse.” Your lips quirked into a small, teasing smile as you tilted your head toward him.

“Besides, you’ve already gone above and beyond. The cookies, the mistletoe, the cozy speeches… you’re basically an elf on the shelf who magically transformed into the perfect boyfriend overnight.” You reached over, your other hand settling on Clark's broad shoulders as you gently rubbed them, a silent gesture of appreciation.

Clark chuckled at that, but the faint blush on his cheeks deepened. “Well, I don’t know about perfect…” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck in that adorably bashful way that made your chest tighten.

“Perfect,” you repeated, a little firmer this time, giving his hand a squeeze. “Even in that ridiculous apron.”

He let out a breathy laugh, and the sound sent a flutter through you. The way his smile lingered—soft and boyish, but edged with a quiet intensity—made your stomach flip. His thumb absentmindedly traced circles on the back of your hand, and though the gesture was small, it felt impossibly intimate.

“Clark,” you mumbled, leaning in slightly, the hoarseness of your voice making his name sound heavier, more charged. “Stop worrying so much.”

“I can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a low murmur. His eyes flicked to your lips before darting away, a faint flicker of hesitation passing over his features. “You’re sick. I don’t want to… you know… make it worse.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, though it quickly turned into a cough. Clark’s expression immediately shifted to concern, but you waved him off, catching your breath as you gave him a lopsided grin.

“Clark, I’m not made of glass. And for the record,” you added, your voice softening as you leaned in just a little closer with the support of your elbows, “I think kissing you would make me feel a whole lot better. Best medicine and all that.”

His ears turned an impressive shade of red, and he ducked his head slightly, his grin both shy and disbelieving. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of exasperation and fondness.

You shrugged, your grin turning sly. “And yet, you’re still here.”

“I’m still here,” he echoed softly, his voice carrying a weight of affection that made your heart ache in the best way. His gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the soft glow of the Christmas lights casting him in a golden halo.

Slowly, tentatively, Clark leaned in, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw. “If you wake up tomorrow feeling worse,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in the barest of touches, “I’m blaming you.”

“Noted,” you whispered back, your breath mingling with his as you tilted your head to close the distance between you.

Strange. You hadn’t noticed the scent of cinnamon when he first brought out the cookies, but now, with your lips inching closer to his—like two cookies spreading and melding into one—you could almost convince yourself you were cured. Almost, if not for the stubborn stuffiness in your nose.

The kiss was gentle at first, as if Clark was afraid you might shatter beneath him. But when you let out a soft, contented sigh and threaded your fingers through his hair, his restraint wavered.

He deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a warmth and intensity that made you forget all about the congestion and sore throat. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his other hand pressed lightly against your waist beneath the blanket.

You tugged him closer still, your lips parting to let him in as the heat between you began to build. Clark’s kisses were like him—steady, powerful, and infused with an overwhelming tenderness that made your head spin. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were breathing harder, the warmth of the moment erasing the chill of the winter night.

“Feeling better yet?” he asked, his voice teasing, though the worry flickering in his eyes betrayed him. It wasn’t just concern over your condition—it was something deeper, a quiet struggle to hold himself back. Not when you looked so effortlessly beautiful, your disheveled state a product of his presence.

“Better,” your voice came out in a whisper, your hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm before traveling around his torso to untie his apron. “But I think I might need a few more rounds just to be sure.”

Clark let out a soft laugh as you tossed the fabric to the floor, his thumb grazing your cheek in a tender gesture. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, but this time the words were thick with affection. His teeth caught his lower lip as your hands lingered at the waistband of his pajama pants, your intentions unmistakable with the gentle tug at his drawstring.

“You sure?” he asked sincerely, large, calloused hands pressing all over your body, but mainly your bare stomach, where he began mapping out heat zones over the plane.You could feel the strength of his abdomen beneath the thickness of his sweater as your hand gently traced his body in admiration. Biting your lip, you reached up to remove his glasses and nodded.

"If you don’t mind taking care of me tonight.”

There was something about the way Clark watched you during moments like these. You couldn’t tell if it was the warmth of his touch or the intensity of his gaze that made you feel so small, so vulnerable. Either way, you savored it—the sensation of being his entire focus, the apple of his eye, and nothing else.

Your stomach sank when he slid his third finger inside of your tight hole, joining his twinned index and middle.

“I can never get tired of this…” you mumbled, unbuttoning the rest of your pajama top when the pressure below heightened your body temperature.

“I’ll say,” Clark hummed, a growing mass forming large in his pants as he was knelt on the bed, gently working you open. The sound of his lubed fingers twisting and curling deep inside of you made his cock jolt, your cheeks reddening as a result of his attraction.

Clark had always been patient, but when it came to having you submit under his touch, he seemed to relish every second. His hands moved slowly, pressing and kneading at just the right spots, his fingers curling deep and slow to the rhythm of your heart while his other hand rubbed small and smooth circles over your stomach.

It wasn’t just about easing your tension—it was about watching you. The way your breath hitched when he found a tender spot, the subtle flutter of your lashes, the way your lips parted with a moan when he spread his three digits—it all captivated him.

He couldn’t help but grin softly as his hands worked their magic, savoring the reactions that only he could coax from you. For Clark, the real reward wasn’t just in soothing your aches—it was in seeing your face completely melt under his touch, your body reacting wantonly because you craved for more.

And with that, Clark went on to give you more. Knowing how sensitive your body’s condition was in the moment, he carefully pushed your legs up, his large hands stabilizing you by the thighs, and replaced the fill of his fingers with his inquisitive tongue.

Like his fingers, he started out slow and deliberate, tracing the swollen ring of muscle to sample the fresh layer of artificially-flavored lube dripping out of your hole. He licked you with a casual ease, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

“Smells like coconut,” you sniffled softly as he lifted his head to press a few kisses to your inner thighs. The warmth of his breath lingered on your skin, but your attention caught on the sticky sheen smeared across his cheek, a glistening trace of slick that made your cock twitch.

“Close… coconut cream pie. More vanilla than I was expecting, if I had to be honest…”

A tender smile curved your lips as your fingers found their way into his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingertips. You began to pet his head gingerly, your touch slow and soothing, grounding both of you in the moment.

“Love you.”

Clark leaned into your hand instinctively, a low hum of contentment rumbling from his chest. His eyes fluttered shut briefly, the tension in his broad shoulders melting under your touch, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away entirely.

“I love you too, (M/N).”

His gaze flicked to yours, a sudden spark of mischief between the blinds of his eyelashes, before he paused for a moment, letting the anticipation build, and kept a watchful eye on you while he slowly pushed out his spit to drizzle it over your wet hole.

Then, with agonizing precision, he pushed the remainder of the saliva into the center of your opening, the wet, methodical slck of the motion sending a jolt of heat down your spine.

“Fuck…” Your fingers curled into his hair until they were grasping, pushing him and his tongue deeper into you while simultaneously rutting your hips against him.

Clark was a hungry man. He made sure to clean up any traces of his spit and lube with that thick tongue of his, slurping the remnants before adding onto it again with a generous amount of spit. Every time you thought the trail of saliva was dripping dangerously close to the bed sheets, Clark’s intuition was strong enough to blindly guide him to the leak, deftly licking it back up and kissing your flesh in passing.

He would never waste a single drop.

A quiet, satisfied moan escaped him, low and drawn out, as if savoring the sweetness of the lube and your flesh was a private indulgence. His eyes never left yours as his nose rubbed at your taint in midst of his devouring, The smile that curled at his lips—glazed and glistening—was a challenge, a silent dare that made the air between you feel heavy.

Heavier, when he found the right rhythm of flicking his tongue to make your body writhe under him.

“Clark, please…” you whined, one hand massaging your loose balls while the other toyed with your nipple, pleasuring yourself not only to the sight of Clark indulging in the warmth and taste of your flesh, but also his naked torso.

His chest rose and fell steadily, each inhale making his broad shoulders flex, the faint sheen of sweat catching the light. The planes of his abdomen looked carved, every ridge and dip inviting your eyes to linger, compelling your cock to leak out of sheer astonishment.

His arms were just as mesmerizing—thick and powerful, with veins running along his forearms that seemed to pulse with quiet authority, especially so when he’d alternative between working your hole open with his fingers and tongue again.

The strength they promised wasn’t just physical but protective. Those arms of his were built to shield and hold you.

When he finally pulled away, his gaze lingered, watching as you panted breathlessly, your chest rising and falling, desperate for him to finish what he had so teasingly begun. The tension hung there, thick and electric, like the moment itself had slowed just for the two of you.

He took off the remainder of his clothes before sprawling himself over you, his broad frame hovering just above yours while you seized the opportunity to thank him of his service. Between gentle kisses that Clark needed to get out of his system before he would lose himself in your body, you generously applied a glorious amount of lube on his large cock, though not letting Clark’s kisses answer to nobody.

His muscles pressed gently against you, the solid strength of his chest rising and falling with each breath when you took a couple of moments to thoroughly layer him in slick—to silently appreciate him for his efforts in lifting your spirits throughout the week with firm strokes.

The weight of his cock in your hands was satisfying, hefty enough to make you pause and marvel at the sheer size of it. You couldn’t get used to it, nor did you want to.

“You comfortable? Need more pillows? Tell me if your body starts hurting, okay?” Clark asked, suppressing his moans by showering your neck and face in small, lithe kisses.

His hands roamed your body at their own free-will before they began fixating on your arms, where your goosebumps were discernible. His brows furrowed in concern.

“Little cold…” One arm looped around to caress Clark by the nape, holding his forehead flushed to your own, while your other hand continued to stroke him between your collective hip grinds. You shivered again, despite being nestled so close to him, the draft still biting at your skin.

“Give me a moment,” he murmured softly, the heat of his breath brushing your ear.

You looked up at him, puzzled, but before you could ask what he meant, Clark pulled back just slightly, enough to give himself space to move. Without a word, he began to shift, his body warm and powerful as he adjusted his position. A flicker of surprise passed through you when you saw the subtle concentration on his face, but before you could ask again, you felt it when he pressed himself on top of you again, lowering his hips.

Clark’s body temperature seemed to rise—slowly, but steadily, until you could feel a gentle heat radiating off him. It was as if he was adjusting his own internal warmth, shifting it just for you. Your eyes widened in disbelief, but the shiver running through your body eased, the cold gradually melting away as his warmth enveloped you.

“You should be good now,” he said, his voice low and calm while he pulled you back into his arms, his skin now perfectly heated against yours.

You nestled against him again, finally able to relax as the cold left you entirely. “Not even going to ask,” you graced him with a kiss, reaching between your pelvis and his to adjust his cock against your hole and nodded. “I’m good to go.”

“Love you so much…” He took you by the jaw and slotted his lips into yours once more, grounding the wavering of your breath with his protection before he pushed his hips forth.

“It’s so… big, C-Clark—“ you groaned, clenching your eyes shut through the bittersweet tension of his large cock opening you up.

Clark whispered several I know’s over your lips, a strong effort in placating the pain surging beneath you, while taking a few pauses for you to catch your breath, for Clark to catch his because—you were so tight.

"You're so tight..." Clark seemed to have admitted in a whisper without realizing.

You felt yourself swell within seconds, the crown of your insides clenching him and pushing him out all at the same time, but Clark remained resilient, pushing, and pushing, allowing you to feel the slow, deliberate pressure inside of you, until he was finally deeply rooted inside of you to the hilt, earning himself a deep guttural groan from you as a reward.

“You feel so good, baby. So, so good. Taking me so well…” He peppered your whimpers with soft kisses, his words soothing you as his boyish smile remained, warm and comforting, easing you with each gentle touch and praise.

“You’re so warm too…” you muttered into the palm of his hand, kissing him at the calloused skin before you returned back to his plush lips.

Your breath caught in your throat as you shifted, the feeling of being filled growing deeper, fuller with every inch of Clark’s large cock moving inside of you. Clark’s large palm rested on your stomach, caressing over the bulge that seemed to move in conjunction with his slow, methodical thrusts.

He had never mentioned it, but you knew it was a sight that he secretly loved. Clark's eyes softened with admiration as he watched, his gaze lingering on the subtle curve of your stomach. It was unmistakable, the way it had begun to gently bulge with every rut of his hips, becoming more prominent depending on the strength, the fullness a natural sign of the way your body had been affected by what you’d taken.

And what you had taken was Clark’s love and devotion to you—his thick cock making you gape and swell from beneath.

It wasn’t easy, not by any means, but there was an undeniable pull in watching your stomach swell from his cock—an almost desperate craving for the mixture of pain and pleasure, for the way it made your body react even though your mind wavered between wanting to resist and wanting to surrender completely.

He couldn’t help but marvel at it, his fingertips lightly grazing the curve, tracing its outline with a reverent touch. The way your body had responded to him, the way it molded to the shape of the intimate moment, filled him with a quiet awe. He leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against your skin, his voice low and hushed. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, a hint of wonder in his tone, as if he couldn’t quite believe the sight before him.

Clark was never one to boast, but in this moment, the glint in his eyes spoke volumes. He’d never been so proud of having someone like you—someone so determined—take all of his girth with such unwavering focus despite the tears in your eyes. Happy tears, to which he’d only create more of, when he gently pressed on the bulge in your stomach and sandwiched his cock within your insides, plunging himself deep inside of you until the only sounds that came out of your throat were guttural.

“C-Clark—oh, god…” your cock was dripping in pre-cum, throbbing to the weight of his cock hollowing you out as he sped up his hips and pushed you deeper into the bed on instinct. You held onto his muscular shoulders as he clutched onto your waist and rocked you back and forth along to his deep thrusts.

“God, I’m so deep inside of you. Is this okay, baby? Is it okay that I’m making love to you like this? I’m being selfish, aren’t I?”

“No-please! I l-love it so much, Clark. Fuck. Keep fucking me like that… wouldn’t want anything more—”

“Like this? You like how I’m so deep inside of you to the point where your tummy’s swelling? So… good. You look so good for me…”

His forehead connected to yours again, panting over your mouth and taking a moment to marvel over how he had rendered you speechless before he could muster up the energy to kiss you again, to draw out another sound from you with his tongue.

The warmth of his mouth was almost feverish, his breath mingling with yours in a tangled, wet dance. Each movement was smooth and sensual, your tongues exploring, tasting, tracing the contours of each other’s mouths with growing eagerness. The wetness of it—the gentle press of his lips, the slick glide of your tongues—made the kiss feel all the more intoxicating, as if every flick and sweep brought you deeper into him.

Clark’s body temperature only seemed to have gotten warmer, affecting you from the inside and out as his cock was synchronous.

You could feel Clark’s dick heat you up from the inside, seemingly softening your guts to make the ease of fully wrecking you all the more easier. With each kiss, praise, and thrust, your body melted further, feeling as soft and pliable as butter left out in the warmth. The tension in your muscles faded, replaced by a liquid sensation that spread through you, leaving you entirely at ease and whimpering in his hot embrace.

The faint sheen of sweat gave him an undeniable rawness, a physicality that made your heart race. You were mesmerized by the way it clung to him, the way the droplets caught the light before sliding slowly down his torso.

Each movement he made only seemed to draw you in more, the heat radiating from his body intensifying the pull you felt. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, infatuated not just by his strength, but by the way he looked so alive, so real—like the sweat was proof of his effort, his focus, and the raw intensity of how he was making love to you and that tantalizing hole of yours.

“You’re fucking me so good, Clark. I could come like this, baby—just like this…”

“And when you make a mess—not if, but when—I’ll treat you like the prince you are. I’ll clean you up with my mouth, let you watch me lick every drop away with my tongue, and then I’ll kiss you, giving you a taste of your love for me.”

His skin, damp with the effort of his keen need to wreck you, left a trail of warmth and moisture as he pounded you, a strong, animalistic friction that made every touch feel more intimate and passionate, that made the current position of him mounting you and bending your knees till they touched your chest despite your condition well worthwhile and all the more rewarding.

It was a sound that matched the intensity of the connection between you both—no words needed, just the symphony of his sweaty skin meeting yours, and his cock hollowing you out until you two had made a permanent imprint on the mattress.

Clark’s breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes soft and filled with admiration contrasting with his hardened thrusts. “You look so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “Just… so perfect.”

His hand moved to your stomach again, evidently in love with the way you swelled from his cock, the weight of the moment sinking in with the aid of the bed creaking, and Clark’s sweaty skin slapping against you.

Every word he spoke, every gentle press of his lips, seemed to soften you, coaxing out of the cold that had been restricting you. It was as though you were being molded by his touch, the heat of his affection spreading through your veins, leaving you pliant, relaxed, and willing to give yourself entirely to him.

All sensation coursing through you was a tangled mess of pleasure and overwhelming intensity. Your body was on the verge of unraveling with every deep thrust of Clark’s. You could feel him swell, veins throbbing inside of you, his balls twitching as he was nearing his high just as you were.

Your eyes fluttered closed, the edges of your vision blurring the harder he pounded into you like an animal, like he was beating away at your cold, and you could feel yourself slipping into a blissful madness.

It was almost too much, yet it felt like the most real thing you’d ever known. Your body trembled from the weight of his body on you, from the girth that Clark was destroying you open with. Every muscle was tight with anticipation, yet you managed to hold onto a smile, the corners of your lips twitching despite the storm raging inside you, your cock throbbing and leaking in overdrive in warning.

“C-Clark..!“

Your hands instinctively found their way around Clark's neck, pulling him closer as if to anchor yourself in the moment. The kiss you pressed against his lips was desperate, full of need and grounding, a silent plea for him to steady you in the chaos as your balls tightened up into your core.

With each breathless press of your mouth to his, you found a sliver of control, a tether to the reality of his presence, even as the pleasure threatened to send you into pure blissful madness.

“I know—me too—“

Your smile lingered, your mind teetered on the edge, savoring every second, every touch, every thrust, and every heartbeat that connected you both, until the very moment where Clark’s name slipped from your lips in a breathless gasp.

“Clark—“

The tension had reached its peak, and when it finally broke, it was like a wave crashing over you, overwhelming and all-consuming. You came in a shared, fervent release. All muscles in your body was taut with desire, the culmination of your love for him unraveling in the form of thick white ropes shooting out of your cock, decorating your bulging stomach with layers upon layers, some splattering onto Clark’s body from the sheer amount of power and arousal.

Clark’s grip on you tightened, his body shuddering against yours as he gave into the same release, his breath ragged in the wake of it. His name left your lips in a soft, trembling sigh as he spilled his warm, thick seed deep inside of your raw hole. He left you breathless, thick, and steady, flooding you in ropes that seemed to never end. It was a powerful, consuming feeling, filling you completely, each pulse of his cock deep and unwavering, decorating your insides with a thickness that left you in awe of how much he had to give, like his body had held nothing back.

Your bodies moved together in those final moments, each thrust and touch sending shock waves through your system as Clark rode out his orgasm. You could feel every inch of him, raw and exposed. The warmth spread through you with each movement, the thick fluid of his cum filling you to the brim, a steady stream that didn’t seem to have an end leaking out of you that would surely have your flesh glued together with his.

Nothing else listed but the two of you—completely undone, unraveling together and leaving behind nothing but the sweet, tender echo of your love for each other.

The room was still, save for your breathing, as Clark’s forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath, tangled together in the beautiful, but sweaty aftermath.

“Are you… feeling better?”

His fingers traced along your skin, over the mess that you made of your stomach to let the sticky substance seep into his own palm, while he caught the remainder of his breath in the crook of your neck, fully collapsing on top of you.

“I…” You groaned, the lingering sensation of pleasure making it hard to find words. But despite the exhaustion, a sly smile tugged at your lips.

You rubbed his broad back in soothing circles, whispering in his ear, “I think I might need another prescription, Doctor.” Your voice was breathless, a mischievous glint in your eyes as the desire still simmered beneath the surface.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

2K notes · View notes

cxrdycxps · 6 months ago

Text

Apologize • Abby Anderson

☢️ Canon typical violence • shitty friends • graphic depictions of injuries • AFAB reader • size kink kinda • Abby is huge • strap sex • thigh riding ☢️

Abby Anderson Masterlist • Main Masterlist

“I mean, I feel like we may be ignoring the elephant in the room?” You leaned back on your chair and looked around at the people gathered there. “Like realistically you all have to be thinking what I am?”

“Would you like to share?” Abby asked, her arms crossed and her glare leveled at you. “Seeing as you seem to be the only one who knows what you’re talking about?”

One glance at the others assured you that she was wrong. You weren’t the only one who knew. You were the only one brave enough to say it. Mel and Owen were avoiding your look and Manny was straight up staring at the wall.

“You want to travel for weeks, during winter, on some half cocked tip that the guy you’ve been looking for, for years, might be there? And you want to round us up to do this for you?” You asked her, voice growing in volume. “You’re asking us to risk our fucking lives for you to play executioner?”

“You don’t have to go.” Abby sighed, brushing you off. You hadn’t been part of the inner circle for long. Mostly because of your antagonistic relationship with Abby. Owen usually played mediator but right now it seemed he had given up that role. “Just leave now.”

“Abby, I’m gonna say this slowly. I’m going to tell you what we’re all thinking.” You stood from your seat, well aware of Abby’s strength and her abilities. You only had speed on your side if she decided to attack you. “Your dad was going to knife up a thirteen year old girl.”

“He wasn’t going to fucking knife her up.” Abby snapped, taking a threatening step towards you. “He was trying to save everyone.”

“There was no grounds for the studies.” You told her, taking a step back. “I’ve read them. I read every single page of what he had written. It was more than likely going to be a learning curve. He wrote that himself!”

“Joel Miller shot my father in cold blood.” Abby spoke through gritted teeth and you huffed a sigh, sick of the same rhetoric.

“Joel Miller shot the man threatening his little girls life. He felt that same rage you feel now. That little girl was obviously his world and your father was willing to take that from him.” You told her, stepping back again slowly. She was inching towards you. “I know why your dad was doing that. He was a good man Abby. But Ellie was just a child. She didn’t even know what they would have to do to her to get a chance of a chance at a cure.”

“I would’ve done it.” She told you and you saw your opening, grabbing at it with both hands when her shoulders sagged.

“I would have too. But I would never have let my child do it.” You told her softly and she relaxed her jaw before clenching it again. “If it was Owen or Mel or Manny, would you let someone unknowingly kill them?”

“We would’ve-” you held a hand up to Manny, silencing him.

“Would you let them do it to your father?” You knew Manny’s father was a sore spot for him and he fell silent again. ��Joel did his duty as a father to Ellie. You heard Marlene’s tapes. You know what he felt for that girl, what he had lost before. He couldn’t do it again Abby and no one should’ve asked him to.”

“It would’ve saved the world!” Abby yelled, arms out wide. You winced and stepped back again. She was a formidable force to be reckoned with and you knew your odds were low if you even tried.

“It might have. It might have just been a dead thirteen year old on your father’s hands and a guilt he would’ve never absolved.” You told her and you didn’t even have time to throw up your hands to protect yourself. She closed the distance in two steps and threw a punch.

You took the hit, head snapping back. Owen stepped in at that point and you held a hand up to your throbbing cheek bone. “She’s not wrong, Abby. You know I loved your old man. But she’s got a point.”

You could feel the swelling starting, your vision blurry from the eye that took the hit. You couldn’t brush off the tears but it was more from the shock of the impact than the pain. “I would want to kill him too. I would want him to suffer for every moment I had to grieve. But you can’t do to Ellie what he did to you. He had a damn good reason.”

“It doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Mel stood, coming to Abby’s side. “We know that Abby. Knowing why he did it might make it hurt all the more. But this is the wrong path to take on. Vigilante justice won’t fix anything.”

“It’ll fix me. There’s a giant gaping wound in me. This will fix it.” Abby’s voice had lost the passion. There was no anger now, just a hollow echo of it. She had lost her fight.

Mel left Abby’s side to check on your face. She pulled your hand down slowly and winced at what she found. “Can you see?”

You didn’t know if you could or not. The eye had begun to swell, your lid barely opening. There was a trickle or warmth down your cheek and Mel’s hand came away bloody.

“Killing Joel won’t heal anything in you.” Your whole jaw ached to talk and you wondered how she could do so much damage with one punch. “It will only make that wound worse. You’ll have no one left to pin the root of your grief on.”

“Come on, let’s get you out of here before she stomps on your head.” Mel sighed, gripping your elbow tightly and leading you towards the entrance to the aquarium. “Good luck explaining this to Isaac.”

“Don’t suppose I can tell him I walked into a door?” You asked, your voice tight with the pain that was setting in heavy.

“Not unless that door was shaped like a fist. I can see each individual finger.” Manny tried to lighten the mood, his voice coming from behind you. You could hear the others talking with Abby and you hoped they would find a way to keep her off the ledge.

“You’re braver than I am.” Mel muttered quietly when you were far enough away from the main group. “I thought no one would say it.”

“You’re all at fault here. She’s been letting that fester for years and you just allowed it?” You asked, wincing when your words muffled. How big were Abby’s hands? Your mouth felt swollen. “You let her focus on that so she wouldn’t focus on you and Owen. Cause you thought she’d never find him.”

“That’s not entirely fair. She drove Owen away.” Mel snapped and you would’ve rolled your eyes if you didn’t think you’d damaged one of them irreparably.

“Into your open arms.” You sighed. “She needed a support system more than ever right at the moment you all let it fall apart.”

///

There wasn’t much to be done at the infirmary back on base. The swelling would go down in a few days, you could see light through the barely there slit when your eyelids where pulled aparet by probing fingers. It meant you probably weren’t blind or permanently disfigured. You did have a headache that seemed to be entering migraine territory.

Mel guessed at concussion on top of a stable fracture to your cheek bone. You knew she was probably right but it didn’t stop you leaving the infirmary and sneaking back to your room, dodging the questions from well meaning colleagues.

You had expected the knock on the door a lot sooner. Mel had been gone on break when you ditched the ward. You thought she would’ve come looking for you right away.

You groaned and pushed yourself out of bed. Your head felt so heavy that it hung forward and took effort to straighten up again. You massaged your temple gently, mindful of the bruising. When the door opened though you flinched and stepped back. Abby was standing there with her arms crossed.

She sucked in a breath at the sight of you and retreated back a step, letting her arms fall limply to her side. You were aware of how you looked and you knew it wasn’t pretty.

Abby didn’t speak. She stared at you, starting from your feet up to your face. Watching you as if she could catalogue your injuries through observation alone. And who knows, maybe she could.

After what felt like hours of staring you blinked your one eye that opened right now at her and held the door open further. She looked from the door back to your face and shook her head, stalking back in the direction of her own room that she shared with Manny.

You stepped out into the hallway and watched her go before shrugging and returning to your room.

///

The days that followed were hell. You didn’t know pain until the following morning when you rolled over as you were waking up and lifted a hand to rub your eye.

You hissed and then winced at the stiffness in your jaw. In the bathroom your mirror told you everything you needed to know that the throbbing in your skull hadn’t told you. You looked way worse, the bruising taking over half your face. You almost swore you could see her imprinted hand like Manny had joked.

Everything hurt and every movement pulled against it. You showered and the water pressure hurt your bruises. Opening your mouth wide enough to brush your teeth made you actually cry. Pulling your hair back even managed to make the pressure in your skull build so you had left it down.

You were pretty sure chewing was out of the question and you had no doubt you were going to have to make a pitstop and beg for one of those good pain injections you knew Mel had on hand.

Isaac had taken you off duty while you were recovering and you were more than grateful for that fact, donning a hoodie and pulling the hood up to cover your face from prying eyes.

Mel wasn’t working in the infirmary that morning but Nora offered a pain injection and some calorie packs to be dissolved in water. You shoved them in your pocket and sat still when she jabbed you with the pain relief.

The canteen happened to have soup on and you grabbed a bowl to take with you, returning to your room to wallow in your own pain and misery. You wondered again how one person could have such strength in them.

Late in the evening a knock came to your door. You opened it, expecting at least one of your friends to visit. Instead it was Abby. You didn’t flinch this time but she did, looking you over again. You opened the door wider again but she only made her observations and left, stalking down the corridor out of sight.

///

The pattern of your days continued this way for the first week. Mel and Nora allowed you three pain injections but you didn’t bother taking the fourth, just accepting calorie packs and retreating to your room.

Abby visited very evening, looked you over and then left. Every evening you offered for her to come in to your room. Every evening she turned on her heel. You were kind of getting used to watching her walk away.

Not for the first time in your life did you wish she was in some way queer. What you would give to climb her like a tree. But unfortunately her only relationship had been Owen and the rare times she had slept with anyone since it was always a man.

Not for lack of women trying. She had shot them all down stating she was in fact straight. It had probably caused more of the antagonism between you both as a means to keep yourself from getting hurt.

On the tenth day your eye was able to open all the way again. You didn’t seem to have any damage to your vision which was a lot more than you had expected if you were being truthful.

The swelling was going down in your face. It still hurt a little to chew and you hadn’t been speaking all that much but you’d soon be fit to return to work.

That evening you waited when Abby knocked instead of answering the door right away. She shifted for a minute, stepping closer to the door and further away again before knocking a second time.

You opened the door but turned away before she could look at you, returning to your bed and pressing play on the movie you had put in just before she arrived. “If you’re coming to have your nightly stare then you better come in and do it.”

Your voice was more of a croak and you had to clear your throat twice to get the words out. It was just from a lack of use because opening your mouth still hurt.

Abby lingered outside your door for a few seconds before she stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind her. There was no light on in the room but you knew the tv was bright enough to show her what she wanted to see.

“Looks better.” She spoke for the first time since you had left her in that aquarium. You hadn’t expected her to but it made for a nice change.

“It is better. No lasting damage to my eye, the headaches are gone and I can open my mouth again.” You didn’t tell her it hurt to open your mouth. She didn’t need to know that. “Just need to be careful with pressure or impact to my cheekbone. It’s a stable fracture right now but any further damage will need surgery.”

Abby flinched in the darkness, almost standing by your bed now. You didn’t look at her, not directly. She hesitated, hand reaching out and dropping back again. “I’m-”

“You can put the clothes on my desk and bring the chair over. Manny sent this movie up for me to watch. He knows I’ve always liked these movies.” You huff and hold the box out to Abby who took it from you. It’s one of those movies that leave you with more questions than answers. You have to ask the older people in the compound about certain elements of the movie and get them explained to you.

Wild Child came out in 2008, a whole five years before the outbreak happened. Watching how teenagers experienced lives back then gave you an understanding of what had been lost.

Abby sets the movie box down and moves to lift the pile of clothes from the chair and place them on your desk as instructed. The opening scene of the movie begins and you focus on it.

///

You woke alone the clothes back in a pile on your chair and the television switched off. An extra blanket had been placed over you and you didn’t have to ask why with the temperature of the room. Winter had landed in Seattle.

Your bruises were fading, mostly just the point of impact a weird shade just off your usual skin tone. The swelling had also receded and while opening and closing your mouth caused stiffness, it didn’t really hurt that much.

Nora’s probing fingers still made you wince in the infirmary, indicating the fracture wasn’t healed enough to let you back on active duty. Something she reiterated to Isaac who ordered you take a few more days. You didn’t argue with him even though you wanted to. You knew better than that.

That night you and Abbey watched Pitch Perfect. Another movie that left you with many questions. You had a fascination with high school and college. You would’ve been facing all of it right now had nothing happened.

Right as the movie ended Abby whispered your name. You pretended not to hear her, letting your eyes fall shut to see what she would do. She eased herself from the chair quietly and moved it back to its place. The weight of a second blanket landed over you again.

Most surprising was the delicate stroke of her finger over the point of impact her fist had made almost two weeks beforehand. “I’m sorry.”

You hadn’t let her say it. Interrupting her each time. Neither of you talked besides you telling Abby what the movie would be called. And her aborted attempt to apologize each time.

///

“Boo fucking yah, baby. Back and better than ever.” You swung yourself up onto the bed of the truck and slapped your hand down on Manny’s shoulder. “Get the fuck out of my seat, big man.”

Manny grunted but shifted over to the passenger side. Owen and Nora hauled themselves up onto the bed of the truck, Alice taking her place at their feet. “How are you feeling?”

“Nora, thanks to your excellent care I am a new woman.” You pumped your fist before revving your engine and tearing out of the compound as fast as you could with shouts of complaints from the others. “I’m so fucking excited to be outside that I think I’m actually high off fresh air.”

“You’re fucking crazy, is what you are.” Manny laughed from the passenger seat as you raised a gear and hit the road, swerving around abandoned vehicles. “You know people used to just drive all over the country and call them road trips? They’d just drive all day. For fun.”

“None of them ever drive with you. Nothing fun about it.” Owen called and you rolled your eyes at his withdrawn tone. You didn’t like Owen all that much. Mostly cause he had what you had wanted and had given it all up. For Mel. A downgrade if you were being honest.

“Shut up, Owen. She’s enjoying freedom and still having sight in both eyes.” Manny cheered and you pumped your fist again. “Both hands on the wheel!”

The patrol had been successful, scouting warehouses further out of the territory the WLF owned. There was great rewards in an old movie rental place and you even got to take down two runners.

When you returned the keys to the truck and your weapons you found Abby waiting at the door to the canteen, arms crossed. She barely spoke to Owen or Nora, slapping her palm to Manny’s when he held his out. She gave you the typical once over you had grown so used to.

There was no longer evidence of your injury. Your cheekbone had healed, you were as loud as ever and yet Abby still visited your room every night to check on you.

“I didn’t know Isaac approved your return to active duty yet.” It was the most she had said to you in a month and you froze in place like a scolded child.

“Last minute decision he made this morning. The others needed an extra set of hands and Nora signed me off two days ago.” You weren’t sure why you were explaining yourself. Or why you were so nervous when Abby stepped closer to you. You didn’t retreat though, not this time.

“How did it go?” She asked quietly, another step in your direction. You swallowed your nerves when she entered your personal space, the tip of her boots barely a hair’s breadth from yours. “See any scars or infected?”

“Um, a few runners. Nothing major.” You told her and she smiled blandly, her hand raising to your face. You flinched minutely and she froze but you moved closer, granting her permission to touch you. Her thumb soothed the barely these scar from where the impact of the very hand that she was being so gentle with right now had split your flesh that day.

“What’s on the watch list tonight?” She asked softly. You were too lost in the caress of her thumb to answer her and she chuckled, letting her hand fall. “You hear me?”

“Sorry, what?” You blinked at her and she laughed again, lowly so that only you would hear it. She took a step back and you snapped back to the present instead of floating above your body. “Oh, uh. I found the fourth Harry Potter movie. So now we’ve the full set and can watch them.”

“Eight movies to watch.” She hummed and you nodded. “That’s a lot of time spent together.”

“Mhmm.” You nodded and she laughed at how distracted you clearly were.

“I’ll see you later then.”

///

You knew how it looked. It looked bad. It looked desperate. It looked like you were the unluckiest bastard on this earth. It looked like you were an idiot.

A knock sounded at the door.

It looked like you were out of time.

Abby let herself into your room while you stood frozen with your back to her. You heard the steps she took and then how she paused a little away from you. Your shoulders tensed and she took another step closer.

“If you wanted me in your bed that bad you only had to ask.” She laughed quietly and your shoulders relaxed. The broken chair no longer an omen of all things bad. You had been standing on it while changing a lightbulb and the leg had given up.

The chair had been old when you had gotten it. That had been years ago. You weren’t surprised just more annoyed at the timing. “I was changing a lightbulb.”

“Is that right? You get it changed?” Abby asked as you turned to face her. Your breath hitched. It hadn’t been warm in months in Seattle. Especially not on base in the concrete rooms without insulation.

But there Abby was in a tank top and sweatpants like it was the middle of summer. You wanted the ground to open and swallow you now because you knew you’d embarrass yourself.

Her shoulders and arms were bared to you, the muscle definition making you feel physically faint. You wanted her to pick you up and toss you around. You were half tempted to piss her off enough that she’d punch you again.

“Well, did you?” You blinked at Abby for several long seconds before realizing she had asked a question. One you hadn’t heard because you were too busy wondering if there was a position that would let you grind on her bicep.

“Did I what?” You asked her, shaking your head. She looked up to the lightbulb and back to your hand. It was an empty socket and you had two bulbs in your hand. She held her hand out to you.

“Give it here.” You handed the new bulb over and she reached up, just barely stretching herself and slotted the bulb in. You reached out for the switch and grinned when the light came on just to turn it back off. It was too bright for movie night.

“You’re handy to have around, you know that?” You asked her with a smile and she laughed at you. You kicked the broken chair out of the way and crawled into the inner corner of your bed.

“I’ve got plenty more skills where that came from.” She assured you while you arranged the pillows. When you turned to look at her strained voice you found her staring at you. Or well, your ass.

You pursed your lips and tucked yourself into the corner of your bed, hitting play on the tv. Abby only hesitated for a moment before sitting down on the bed and kicking her shoes off.

She leaned back against the headboard of your bed, one long leg stretched in front of her, the other bent at the knee. Her muscle definition was apparent through her sweatpants and you wanted to ride her thigh so bad you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from saying it.

This pattern continued for the length of the eight days it took to watch Harry Potter. She sat the same way each night and each night you watched her thigh and her arm closest to you more than you watched the movie.

As per tradition at this point, Abby would say your name at the end of the movie and then usually tuck you in except this time she didn’t say anything when the credits rolled and you realized she was asleep.

You wanted to wake her, let her go back to her room. But she was fast asleep and she had slid most the way down the bed that she wasn’t going to hurt herself to sleep in that position. You turned the movie off and turned your back to her and let her sleep.

///

Warm. It was so fucking warm. Your body was melting, you were almost sure of it. You blinked your eyes open and groaned quietly. Was the compound on fire or something? What was with the heat?

Your body froze at the huff of breath against your neck. Abby surrounded you right now and you could feel her all over. She had managed to spoon you during the night, your head pillowed on her bicep, her other hand wrapped around your waist. Her big hand rested on your sternum, right between your breasts and you couldn’t help the pulse of arousal.

Her face was tucked up against your neck and her steady breathing let you know she hadn’t woken yet. So you did the cowardly thing and relaxed back into her hold, letting yourself enjoy it.

You drifted off to sleep again apparently because when you woke Abby was shifting around behind you but hadn’t actually moved away yet. “What time ‘s it?”

Abby froze when you spoke but you felt her twist to look at your clock. “Uh, early. Almost eight.”

“Got anywhere to be?” You asked, your hand moving to stop the slow retreat of her arm around your waist. She froze again and you waited for her to make a decision.

“Not until twelve. I’m headed out with Owen and Nora.” She was whispering right in your ear and you couldn’t help the shiver.

“Mm, you’re heading out with me, Owen and Mel.” You corrected her, shuffling back into her hold. “It’ll be fun, me and the love triangle that hates me.”

“Hates you? Does it look like I hate you?” Abby asked and you hummed, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t hate you.”

“Then go back to sleep, Abs.” You huffed and she laughed against your neck, tightening her arms around you.

///

“Owen, get out of my passenger seat right the fuck now.” You pulled yourself up onto the bed of the truck and Owen looked panicked. Mel shared his look and you stared between them. “What?”

“Abby is coming with us.” Mel told you quietly like it was a secret. “We weren’t aware that you were driving.”

“I know Abby is coming?” You looked between them, confused. “That’s why I want Owen out of the passenger seat.”

Abby arrived on the scene and pulled herself up, looking between all three of you. “Am I interrupting something here?”

“We didn’t know you two had been cleared to work together.” Mel spoke up against the silence and you laughed. “She shattered your cheek bone, it’s a viable worry.”

“Firstly, it was a stable fracture. It’s all healed up and I’m not saying I deserved it but we all know why I got it.” You slotted yourself into the drivers seat. “Besides, Abby apologized.”

“Apologized?” Mel asked, dubious. Owen moved from the passenger seat, his eyes narrowed between you both as Abby took his place.

“That thing that neither of you ever did after screwing around behind my back?” Abby asked and the truck fell silent. You bit your lip to hide your smile before starting your engine.

Mel and Owen took their seats quickly and you tore out of the compound with a whoop and an accompanied bark from Shadow.

The patrol stayed quiet, moving from building to building in silence. It was driving you up the wall. You kept Shadow with you, moving around each room, checking for anything that might be of use.

“Think they might hate me as much as they hate you now?” You didn’t jump when Abby spoke but you did have to fight the urge. You turned from where you were rifling through a cabinet to find her leaning on the door frame. She took up the whole door way and you salivated just a little.

“Nope. Because you only repeated what I already called them out on.” You told her, returning to your cabinet which just seemed to hold old office supplies.

“You called them out on sneaking around behind my back?” Abby asked. You could hear her walking closer as you tossed decaying reams of paper out of your way.

“Mhmm.” You hummed, stuffing some markers in your bag. There were still in the packaging so you had high hopes they hadn’t dried out yet. She stopped behind you, you could feel her body heat.

“Why would you do that?” She asked and you shrugged, shuffling sideways to the next cabinet, she followed you. “When did you do it?”

“Like five minutes after you broke my face.” You shrugged and found bags of rubber bands that had all eroded with age. You tossed them all aside before standing up. You still didn’t turn around but you knew Abby was close behind you. She pressed closer when you were straightened up.

“Why would you come to my defense right after I had hurt you?” She asked, her large hands coming to rest either side of yours on the counter top. She was flush against you, her size difference almost overwhelming.

“Because no one ever seemed to come to your defense.” You told her honestly and you felt her huff a laugh against your hair. One of her arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you back tight against her. “I figured someone should.”

“Thank you.” You knew you probably weren’t imagining the barely there kiss to the crown of your head but a low growl from Shadow had you both spring apart.

“There’s something in here with us.” Abby muttered, loading her gun. You copied her actions and backed away from the door, maneuvering to the left of it while Abby took the right so you could both see either angle.

Whilst you and Abby had never gotten on, you were flawless patrol partners and it was evident in how you both worked, taking out two runners and a clicker with enough time for you to be sitting on a table, legs swinging and Abby to be thumbing through a magazine so weathered she couldn’t possibly be reading it.

That was how Owen and Mel found you both and they shared a look between themselves at both of your casual displays and the pile of infected between you both.

“Everything okay?” Owen asked cautiously. You looked up at him and smiled, hopping off the table. “Any injuries?”

“Nope. I got one runner and Abby got the other two.” A fact she was annoyingly proud of and you were irrationally bothered by. “You did good, Abs. I might let you be the little spoon tonight.”

Everyone in the room froze but you and Shadow who followed you out past a frozen Mel and Owen toward the truck. Soon the other three followed you, Abby slipping into your passengers seat. She was fighting a smile so you knew you weren’t in trouble with her.

///

You had gotten so used to Abby letting herself in that you had kind of forgotten that she did it. So when you stepped out of the bathroom with just a towel on and found her sitting on your bed, you didn’t really know what to do.

She gave you the usual once over before smiling at you. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was mean. Something that made your stomach fill with nerves and a wet pulse start up between your legs.

She was sitting on your bed, both legs stretched out in front of her. She patted a hand to her lap and you stared at her, incredulous. “Come on sweetheart, we both know you want this.”

You moved towards her hesitantly and paused a few steps from the bed. “You came early.”

“I did. I was hoping to talk about that little spoon comment but right now I don’t care. Sit on my lap.” It wasn’t much of a question, not the way she phrased it. You swallowed roughly again, looking back to the bathroom.

Abby wouldn’t hurt you. She also wouldn’t judge you if you wanted to retreat right now. You knew both of those things to be fact. The truth was that you didn’t want to retreat. She knew that.

It was an awkward shuffle getting onto her lap but that’s where she took over, maneuvering you so that you were straddling one thigh, one hand on her shoulder for balance and the other holding your towel together. “You don’t think I know that you’re watching me all the damn time?”

“I thought, I didn’t think you were into women.” You told her, suddenly shy in the face of this abrasive, domineering Abby. She only huffed a laugh and shook her head.

“I’m not. Never have been.” She told you and you froze in place, unsure where this was going. She bent her knee, her thigh tensing and you couldn’t help the moan, falling forward so your face was in the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “I’m sure as fuck into you though. I don’t know what it means but I know what I want to do about it.”

“Abby.” You whispered and her hands landed on your hips, pushing and pulling you into a slow grind against her thigh. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it. I’m gonna fuck you.” She promised. When your hips had taken the rhythm she found acceptable her hands began to move. One travelled up the length of your back, up your neck, to cup the back of your head, holding you in place against her. The other tugged your towel free. “Gonna let you hump my thigh first like a bitch in heat. Then I’m gonna get my fingers into you, see how tight your little hole is.”

You whined against her neck, the friction of her sweatpants and the heat of her words had you burning up. “Please.”

“Yeah, you’ll beg me so pretty. Cause once you come on my fingers I’m getting down there to taste you. Cause I know you’ll be the best fucking meal I’ll ever have.” She groaned in your ear and your hands travelled to her biceps, your nails digging in. “And once I’ve done all of that? I’m gonna fuck you with my strap.”

“You, where’d you?” You were barely able to get your thoughts together enough to ask her about the strap. “Why?”

“Just cause I wasn’t fucking women doesn’t mean I wasn’t fucking anyone.” Your head tipped back when your breathing sped up. You lost the rhythm on her thigh just bucking against her as your orgasm washed over you. Abby leaned forward and the harsh bite of her teeth made you scream. “Not over yet, Sweet Girl. Just getting started.”

///

“Abby, Abby, Abby.” Every stroke of her cock had you chanting her name. She had you on all fours, her large hands on your hips and pulling you back on her forcefully. You weren’t sure if you knew words other than her name and please. She had fucked it all out of you.

One hand slid from your hip up your front and with a hand around your neck she pulled you up so your back was flush against her chest. Her grip on your neck was loose but you felt your breathing hitch. “Oh you like that.”

Her hand tightened around your neck and you gave in entirely, your orgasm washing over you and your mouth falling open in ecstasy as Abby wrung every last drop of pleasure from your body.

She pushed against you, friction from the strap driving her towards her own orgasm as she humped against you desperately. She some how managed to control the fall after coming so that you were both on your side.

“Thought you wanted to be the little spoon this time?” You asked her breathlessly and she huffed a laugh from behind you.

“Thought I fucked that attitude out of you.”

#abby anderson #Abby anderson x reader #Abby anderson x afab reader #Abby anderson x you #Abby anderson tlou #Abby tlou #Abby anderson smut #the last of us #tlou

1K notes · View notes

fairysluna · 10 months ago

Note

To cure your writer‘s block: Maegor Targaryen + breeding his niece to get an heir 🤭

I wrote this on a rush, and this is my first attempt to write for Maegor after months. I hope you like this, my maegor queen 👑. Ily🤍

TW: smut, breeding kink, targcest, targ!fem!reader.

His whole weight was pressing you down, caging you between his broad body and the mattress beneath you. His hand was around your neck, squeezing it tight as his hips kept snapping against your arse over and over. You were sobbing, gasping and mewling as he ripped another orgasm out of you; you had lost count on how many times he had made you peak, too drunk in pleasure to even think straight. His cock would stretch you out so deliciously that it made you drool onto the sheets, your tightness wrapping him so good it made his body shake.

The sticky mess between your legs grew bigger when your release washed over you; his seed oozed out of you and he grunted in disapproval, hating to see it go to waste. You were so full already, yet it wasn't enough for him. “Keep it in or I'll have to fill you up again,” he groaned.

“I c-can’t…” you managed to mumble between loud sobs, feeling his cock emptying itself inside of you for what you thought was the third time. Your spongy walls clamped down his shaft, making him tremble as he was accidentally overstimulating himself. “I’m… I'm so full, p-please…”

“Uh, uh…” Maegor hummed, hissing as he pulled out of you. He turned you around, noticing the mess he had made out of you; your platinum hair sticking in your face due to the sweat and tears that had fallen down your cheeks. The bruises on your skin as a sign of his roughness, the one you loved so much. He hummed, pleased with what he was seeing. “You should not let it go to waste.”

You yelped when he lifted your hips, wrapping his arms around your belly and placing your legs on his shoulders. It was an uncomfortable position for you, but seeing the bewitched glint on his eyes, how pussydrunk he looked for you, made it all worth it. He spat on your cunt, and with his fingers he collected the seed that had tried to escape from you and put it back, burying his fingers deep inside of you. You squirmed, already feeling achy and sore, yet he didn't seem to care. “Stubborn little girl,” he murmured, seeing how you clenched around his fingers. Pearly drops escaped from your weeping entrance. “Guess I will have to fill you up one more time, just to make sure.”

“Maegor…” you begged him, not sure if you were going to be able to handle another one. However, the way you uttered his name lightened something primal within him, making it impossible to resist you. He let go of your hips, only to spread your legs as wide as possible. The coldness of the winter breeze reached your reddened flesh and made you cry out louder than it should.

“Shh… be a good girl for your king and take what I'm giving you.” Before you could answer, his thick head made its way inside of you, stretching you once more and making you squeal.

It was going to be a long night.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!

GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

MAEGOR TAG LIST — @targaryen-dynasty @hypocritic-trash-baby @mariahossain

#maegor targaryen smut #maegor targaryen x reader #maegor x reader #maegor targaryen #maegor the cruel #maegor i

2K notes · View notes

wonzzu · 3 days ago

Text

the orange peel theory ; l. jihoon

genre: fluff

word count: 631

rions post it note: Haiii happy new years everyone!!! i got really busy at the end of the year and things have barely started to die down so heres a quick jihoon drabble! i found the idea of taking care of sick hoonie very cute. i miss my beautiful girlfriend jihoon.....

“hey jiji, i’m coming in.” you slide the door open, bags in hand with many medicine bottles and bundles of oranges, after all vitamin c is the cure to all things. your eyes shift around the room, eyeing the clothes on the floor and his bed mostly empty– save for the large mound of blankets in the middle that was jihoon.

he was underneath it all, knees tucked all the way up to his chin and in fetal position. he felt the mattress dip under your weight and the warm bubble he had created under 3 layers of blankets burst as you lifted them off his head.

“hey.. it's cold.. give them back.” he whined softly, his voice hoarse from the sore throat he had gotten from having to walk back home in the pouring rain, “i’ll tuck you back in a second, jiji, just let me give you some medicine–” you rummage through the plastic bag and grab a bottle of nyquil, “have you eaten yet? i brought some oranges from my place if you can’t stomach full meals yet.” jihoon shakes his head slowly and snakes his arms around your stomach and pulls himself closer to your warmth, treating you like a heater. “not yet…. could you peel the orange for me, please?” he elongates the end of the word in a cute tone that makes your cheeks heat up.

you happily peel the oranges’ skin off for him, puncturing the thick layer with your nail and pulling it back a couple times. “here, i’ll even feed you since i’m feeling generous today.” you giggle before popping a slice in his mouth. jihoon chews on the slice and sees you peeling the strings of the white membrane off the pieces you're about to feed him, “thank you, you didn't have to come here to take care of me..” he says as you slide another piece of orange in his mouth, “these are great.”

you smile as you push back the pieces of damp hair that have stuck to the sweat of his forehead, and rest your hand in his hair, “but i wanted to. i can’t let my favorite person in the world suffer alone, can i? this is the least i could do for you, jiji.” your thumb caresses his forehead and you plant a small kiss right in the center, “plus–” you feed him the last piece of orange, “this means i get to spend time with you. even if you’re sick and sleeping half the time.”

you grab and unscrew the cap from the nyquil, pouring to just about half of the measuring cup, “here, take this.” he props himself up for a second on his elbow, albeit wobbly. you pinch his chin in between your fingers and lift his head up, pouring the medicine down his throat. he pulls back and his face twists for a second– jihoons never liked the taste of nyquil, and he motions for the half empty bottle of water on his nightstand and downs the rest of it.

“can’t they make it taste good, god, that was terrible..” he shakes his head before laying back down and snaking his arm around you again, pulling you closer to him. you smile and rub up and down his back, “relax, it’s not that bad. besides, you only take it like, 2 times a day.” with your free hand, you dig into your bag of citrus’ and pull out a large orange to peel and feed him.

jihoon hums and rubs circles into your side with his thumb, your warmth keeping him comfort, and while he won’t say it out loud– he appreciates you taking the trip to his apartment and taking care of him, even if all he has is a fever.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #svt x reader #woozi #woozi x reader #svt woozi #seventeen woozi #woozi imagines #woozi fluff #woozi x you #woozi scenarios #sickfic #wonzzu

216 notes · View notes

anantaru · 11 months ago

Text

cw. [ex]plicit, forbidden romance, passionate haithie, fem! reader

the lingering thought of living through a forbidden romance with alhaitham.

“we shouldn't be doing this but it feels so good,” while you exchange deep breaths, eyes misted with a delirious glow.

right now, nothing seemed important enough for you to muffle your cries and heaves, as it was the only way to vocalize your feeling.

but a piercing reservation for this relationship was always there.

the irremediable sorrow of what would happen if you do get caught, if someone sees you steal a couple more kisses, brush your hands together lightly when you walk past each other. it's present, that haunted look on your face, and it was impossible to cure it as it overcame you with a shaded gloom, casted above you as it applied layer after layer of unsettling emotions.

yet your heart twists when you feel him kiss you again, again— and again, as if alhaitham silently sensed how you were giving yourself to the negatives parts of your secret relationship that actually contributed to many positive instances in your life.

"i hate it, so much," that hurt, you realized, to say it out loud and feel it hang above your head, "i hate it so much, it pains me!" to voice your emotions to him too— as if it didn't kill him as well.

but you close your eyes now, your lashes shining with a threat of tears, attempting to ignore the wounds inside of you and go back to focus on what was right now, towering before you. it being alhaitham, the man you loved, so fucking much, pleasing you to his heart’s content.

the scribe traces your muscles with his fingertips before pulling himself in you again, his lips parted and glistening on top of yours. everything considered, there was a strange, almost insatiable sort of pleasure bundling inwardly, he simply never looked at you like this before.

"oh? you're still concerned someone might hear us?"

"no, I'm not," you avert your gaze in denial, but the bitterness on your facial features told the entire story to his sharp pair of eyes. you suddenly close your arms around his neck so you could kiss— and better, shut him up, so that alhaitham would also forget about your panicked outburst and resort back to filling you with pleasure.

"good, me neither, i couldn't give a damn anymore."

"what—" this was probably one of the most miserable dirty talk sessions in history of such— if you can even call that awkward conversation that.

alhaitham silently hooks his fingers under your hips before pulling you off and on him, repeatedly, but this time faster as your lower body automatically arched upwards so he could move you on and off his cock in the most pleasurable, precise way. to have your sweet cunt split by his girth—it's maddening and you feel him throb inside of you as he drags himself against your warm walls, luxuriating in the softness of your pussy.

alhaitham slumps into your body, "i-don't-care-anymore-" and at each full throated groan, he spills a new word to complete his sentence.

now, everything had gotten more hot— scorchingly hot but cold too, precisely all at once and at the same time, your creamy walls being rubbed with passionate rolls of his cock as his pelvis hits yours.

everything between your thighs retorted to feeling swollen and well used, your hips sore enough to give up but you did not want to, not now, not ever, not when there was nothing that made you feel as good and free as this.

yes, alhaitham made you feel free, like you could achieve anything in life and have him by your side at the same time.

in the course of this, you close your eyes before begging him to kiss you again, uncontrollably make out with you until your lips would strain and hurt. and alhaitham notices, pushes deeper in, so deep that his shaft had been entirely webbed in your liquids and made them ooze out whenever he pulled his cock out.

he does it with such ease, like he's meant to do this, "i don't care whether people will spread rumors," and presses his lips on top of yours, muffling.

"because there's only one person i care about."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles

1K notes · View notes

kings-wifey · 8 months ago

Text

One Piece men taking care of you while you're sick ❤️

(I have a sore throat right now so I desperately need someone to take care of me-)

Zoro, Sanji, Ace and Law.

word count: 677

Zoro

"I told you that this would happen!" He growled, incredibly irritated with you for having gone against his words as he idly played with your hair, his signature stone-cold resting face had practically pierced the air, making things rather silent.

He was sat next to your bedside, having had to give up training today as Chopper was out foraging for medical supplies and ingredients due to Luffy having eaten a whole container of flavoured vitamins because "they tasted good", of course he didn't actually mind taking care of you it was just that your stubbornness really pissed him off at times.

"I swear, once your ass is better I'm going to break you."

"Hm... in what way?" You teased him, a cocky smirk on your red sickly face, earning you a groan and a rough poke.

"You cocky little..."

Sanji

"Open wide my darling," He spoke softly, spoon feeding you soup like an infant, his voice was a tad bit raw due to him crying since he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world for allowing his baby to get sick. His guilt stemmed from his mother's passing as a child, the gnawing feeling that he could've done something if he was stronger or actually knew how to care for someone at the time having scarred him, which of course wasn't his fault whatsoever but he'd never accept that nor forgive himself for not being able to take away his mother's pain.

He did not care what so ever that you could get him sick, you were his baby and you needed care! He watched with a soft smile as he saw you slowly eating the soup by each spoonful, admiring the way your soft lips wrapped around the spoon.

"What? Wish this was your dick?" You teased, mumbling slightly as you ate. You chuckled at the way he gasped and blushed as his hand attempted to hide the growing evidence of his arousal.

"Baby!"

Ace

"Babe you sound like Dadan-" Ace wheezes as he teases you, causing him to receive a slap from Marco who was monitoring your temperature. "Shut it. She needs to rest." He scolds your boyfriend sternly before stepping outside to dig through the ship's storage for more herbs, Ace takes the opportunity to climb into the infirmary bed with you and wrap his arms around you like a toddler cuddling their favourite toy.

The truth was, although he did try to hide it, he was horrified of you suddenly becoming seriously ill. He loved you a lot, it was just that he loved your pout and you whines of annoyance almost as much, which was why he'd always tease and poke fun at you affectionately because that alongside touch was love language.

"Don't you dare get sick again... shorty."

"Alright that's it, no more sex for you for a week after this."

"What?! No I was kidding pleaseee!"

Law

Beep beep beep! The thermometer beeped to signal that it was ready to display your temperature.

"Hm. Thirty-eight point five. You're running a slight fever." Law stated bluntly as he examined the thermometer carefully before he set it aside and got up, he walked over to his medicine cabinet and dug through it for a few moments before he examined a packet and took it.

He closed the cabinet before he made his way over to you, handing you the packet of antibiotics with his endearingly cold hands.

"Take two twice every morning and night, it should help to resolve it as well as soothe the irritation somewhat." He spoke with a stern tone, despite the fact that it was incredibly obvious that he was a tad bit worried about your sickness developing into something harder to manage and cure, but he shoved those thoughts away and focused on being the confident doctor that you needed right now and not some sappy worried man.

"Do I take them with water or...?" You teased as you gave him a suggestive smirk, earning a heavy sigh in response.

"... Yes water you horny brat."

Thank you for reading! I know this isn't much for my first post and I do feel very lazy and like this isn't good enough, but I hope you enjoyed it!

#one piece #zoro #zoro roronoa #sanji #sanji vinsmoke #ace #ace d. portgas #law #law d. trafalgar #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. law #one piece x reader #female reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #ace x reader #law x reader

444 notes · View notes

azzurx · 10 months ago

Text

Get Trusted Cold Sore Treatment with Our Experts!

Experience premium relief from pesky fever blisters with our trusted 5-star rated cold sore treatment options. AZZURX proven formulas target the virus at its source, providing fast-acting relief and promoting healing. Trust the top-rated solution that countless customers rely on to say goodbye to cold sores and hello to clear, healthy lips.

#cold sore #cold sore cure #cold sores remedies #cold sore treatment #cold sore medicine

1 note · View note

mellowwillowy · 1 year ago

Text

CW: Cannibalism.

"It hurts so much, dear. I- I don't feel so good..." You hid yourself under the cover, wrapping yourself like an egg roll as your husband set down the tray of warm soup and a couple of medicines.

"I get that dear, but you should take your medicines first to feel better." It was not said in a chiding tone, his hand patting your egg roll figure repeatedly as though he was knocking on a door.

You peeked your head out and took a generous sniff at the soup, it smelled and looked good despite being mixed with herbals. "Come, just sit up and open your mouth," He proposed as he positioned you to sit with the pillows supporting your back.

He blew the spoonful of the soup before urging you to drink it. The taste was not bad but it did not leave a good aftertaste as well despite his attempt to filter the herbal taste. Nonetheless, drinking the soup was a good idea as it warmed your body.

And the meat floating in the soup was not contributing any taste for you as well. It looked odd, shaped like any normal chicken meat but the taste left this strange stinging taste.

But it did make you feel better whenever you took a bite of it, the aching of your body slowly dissipating while your throat felt less sore with each gulp of the soup you took.

Your husband sure knew every way to make you feel better, even by making soup for when you were sick!

"Good, now take these and go to sleep again, okay? I'll be here the whole day." "Really? Don't you have work to do?" "Mmh, I can always work on the paperwork here. Now, now," He tucked you into the blanket, "Let's get you feel better."

You took hold of his hand, cold contrary to your warm skin, "I love you, Yulian." "I love you too, dear." He kissed your forehead and sat down on the chair, sorting through the documents.

---

"I really didn't expect that the pastor's meat would be this efficient as a medicine. Is it because they are blessed by his holiness?" Yulian sat down across the bed, his eyes gazing upon your peaceful sleeping body. The sleeping medicines helped a lot as well, ensuring you get all the sleep you need to recover.

And ensuring that you did not hear any of his apologies.

"I'm so sorry dear, but I just can't bear seeing you being in pain. I know this will shock you a lot should you ever find out, but know that I am going this far only to cure you. I really love you."

It was not hard for Yulian to get away with it as he has the underground bastards to help him cover up his crime, having the mafia ringleader in a pinch surely makes things easier.

"Sweet dream."

A smooch on your forehead that warmed you up. You could feel that but was it a dream?

#Yulian the Corruption #LIfE Project #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #x gn reader

1K notes · View notes

chsopnk · 5 months ago

Text

「 ✦ TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY ✦ 」

☆. # SHIP — nanami, gojo (separately) x m!reader.

☆. # AUTHOR’S NOTE — the boys had a bad day and need to be pampered. ;; requested.

☆. # WARNINGS — none.

NANAMI.

this man is chronically stressed + tired but he would also never admit it to you

yeah, he’ll come home after a particularly stressful day at work and be like “today was stressful, my love” but he’d never actually talk about just how much it’s getting to him

but anyway.

when nanami comes home, you can kind of immediately tell how he’s feeling. he’ll try his best to still be the sweetest husband ever (because he’d never wanna take his mood out on you) but it’s still obvious

he’ll take his tie off and sit down on a kitchen chair, leaning his head back

and he’ll just sit there. for like fifteen minutes. trying to calm the ranging headache that’s pulsing behind his eyes.

so you get him some aspirin before let the tub fill up with nice, warm water just the way you know nanami likes it

you turn off the light in the bathroom so it doesn’t make his headache worse and set the mood by lighting a few candles around the room—making sure it’s a dim lighting instead of a whole ceiling light shining down

he would definitely complain. he’d tell you “you don’t have to do this” and that he’ll be fine with just a little bit of sleep

but what kind of husband would you be if you let nanami suffer when you’ve got the means to help him, right??

sometimes he just needs a little help remembering that in a relationship, it’s a give and take.

so with a bit of convincing, he’ll let you help him wash up as he relaxes in the bath. make sure to rub his sore shoulders and neck! it gives him so much relief when you do that 🥹

you’ll wash his body gently but for now, there’s not much talking going on. give him a bit of time, let him relax for a while and then ask him. he’ll just shut down id you immediately jump at hime with questions about his day.

he does love hearing you talk about your day during this part of the routine tho! tell him what you did today, how you were feeling, what’s for dinner—anything that gives him some sense of normality. he loves hearing about your day! <3

once you’re in bed together, pls hold him! let him rest his tired head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat because that always calms him down so so much

maybe he’ll talk about his day, maybe he won’t. don’t force him to tho! he really just wants to rest with you

GOJO

a baby.

he will come home, whine and complain about how stressful it was and how hard he works 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

(please praise him. he wants you to praise him soo bad)

will throw himself on the couch and act like he’s been shot and cannot move.

you know what would really cheer him up tho?

some sweets. and kisses. and cuddles. and maybe you could scratch his back too…

he’s one demanding mf but he also deserves it so who are you to say no to him let’s be so fr

fair warning: he will not stop whining and complaining until you give him what he wants.

“satoru, you can’t eat sweets, dinner’s almost ready”

and he’ll throw his head back and be like, “guess i’ll just die here then.”

dramatic hoe 😒

BUT. he really really does deserve and need to be pampered every now and then even if it does feed into his act </3

also 100% certain this man will melt in your arms id you give him head and/or back scratches

if he used his six eyes a lot, maybe you could bring him a cold towel to put over his eyes since (imo) using them too much gives him a headache + burning eyes !!

also.

once you’ve started cuddling, he will not let you go. forget going to the bathroom. forget the dinner on the stove. no more getting up until he thinks he’s been cured

will ask you to feed him sweets tho. pls he’s so dramatic. he’ll act like he’s lost both arms in battle with the way he’s acting

but he’s cute so he’s forgiven

#₊˚ෆ lovely words #thank u for requesting!#i recently replayed fnaf 4… so thats where the title comes from 💀#nanami x male reader #jjk x male reader #gojo x male reader #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

252 notes · View notes

freeworldallahmbaclass · 1 month ago

Text

Read and be content with the little things in life and work to have more since this world is getting better now . Yeah for progress .

For pregnant women with no one to help them read these books and grow your baby healthy and strong with a bright outlook on life and remember everything is going to okay from now on . Thank you John Wick me Keeanu Reeves for reviving me from my slumber and bringing back to life like Jesus Christ it is true God does bring people back from their graves I'm living proof of that He did it for me like he did it for Jesus Christ .

Cabenuva the new HIV Medicine is the cure for HIV Aids it knocks out HIV Aids like the common cold please send it to Africa to help heal the people .

The story is that 50 Cent kind of dropped a hint to me on wanting to help cure the Aids epidemic in Africa and I heard it and I proposed it to send the cure for aids in Africa to the people in Africa infected with HIV Aids and this is the news headlines in March 11th , 2023 of it going through that is another accomplishment on my list of accomplishment thank you so much and they should be continuing sending it to Africa daily every day week month and years for generations and generations from now on a continuous basis that would be the right thing to do true humanity

.https://taboolanews.com/article-page/-2797757518048424788?utm_source=taboola&utm_medium=taboola_news&dc_data=2744048_newstoday .Check the news on CNNThe US helped prevent AIDS from being a death sentence in Africa . The us is me and 50 Cent true 50 Cent the rapper from his hit show power .We did it congratulations on the cure for Aids in Africa .The US helped prevent AIDS from being a death Sentence in Africa Check the news on CNN on ending HIV Aids in Africa with the cure and new medicine Cabenuva HIV medicine that cures HIV Aids like the common cold and any other kind of communicable diseases We did it congratulations on the cure for Aids in Africa .The US helped prevent AIDS from being a death Sentence in Africa .Cabenuva the new HIV Medicine is the cure for HIV Aids it knocks out HIV Aids like the common cold please send it to Africa to help heal the people .

On a serious note 50 Cent was speaking on HIV Aids in his book Hustle harder Hustle smarter I bought the book and read it I love it . He said that everyday millions upon millions of Africans die each day each single day even right now as we speak their is an African infant a baby dying of HIV Aids lying on the ground a mother dying of Aids a young adult male dying of aids with the baby ribs sinking in from starvation poisoning from uncleansed water to clean their selves and clothing and their food is full of worms and other insects , I propose we find a cure to this madness to end this generational struggle against both HIV Aids and starvation in Africa in the regions in Africa if you know the specific countries infected with Aids call them out I have a map there of Africa so that we can pinpoint exactly what countries in Africa that 50 Cent is talking about so that we as other humans can help them and be a savior to them and their people not just me I'm speaking we all can be that savior each human pull his part and help cure that dire situation in Africa the regions and countries in Africa that is specifically infected with the disease of starvation and HIV Aids ( I propose the let's cure HIV Aids in Africa and law proposal health and human reform act ) Cabenuva a new drug is the cure for HIV Aids while watching television the commercial says that Cabenuva will help a person infected with HIV Aids become undetected for HIV Aids after months of them taking the drug and medicine the cure Cabenuva comes in one form to heal a person but in this plan I propose that they send the original cure and format of administering the drug through Africa through the World foode program and united nations make it like JFK and his peace corps his troops of peace corps send U . S . Troops from our military in the united states with medical training or med students from their graduate schools for their internship abroad to Africa to help heal young babies dying of Aids in Africa make it like an offer hey who want to go to Africa and work for 1 year 2 years curing hunger and Aids in Africa and I know millions of saviors and people will sign up to go to Africa for that cause people of all races and ethnicity is welcome to go it is going to be like the peace corps under John F Kennedy administration you should research him and his time in office as the United States of America President I love him a very great president I miss him one of my all time favorite Presidents honest truth a good human all the way through and through a good man but here is the program I put together in conjunction with how Cabenuva already administers the drug to help cure the infection of HIV Aids prescription pill form Cabenuva drug to Africa to cure aids in AfricaIn regular form and kids vitamin size pills for children born with HIV Aids , and also regular size pills for all adults and parents of kids in Africa to eliminate the virus and passing on of the virus on to their children . Also eliminating the virus in children born with HIV Aids through kids vitamin size pills with the warning label on the pill holder : If you don't take all the doses of your medicine you might get sick again with a funny cartoon character on the bottle to make laugh smile and happy that a cure has arrived to help them . 🌞☀⭐😎👩‍🔬👩‍🎓👩‍🏫👷🙋🙏But the alternative monthly doses of the cure / medicine will do just fine go Cabenuva for Africa and the lets cure Aids in Africa law proposal and health human reformation act )

The government in those poor countries should create federal programs to take over the rebuilding in Africa and other poor countries to produce clean water for drinking bathing and washing clothes cooking electricity farming producing good soil for vegetation and growing of fruits . Teaching English as a second language liberal arts education and vocational schooling in skills like carpentry fishing farming tilling and planting and growing and that process of watching the vegetation come to life and that will be their labor force their jobs with a salary to rebuild the countries soil grass atmosphere air that they breathe in take the things they do for free and turn it into employment something as easy herding animals can be turn into an occupation animals can be used to transport health products and medicine food books for education to town to town Federal programs for running the economy , federal boards and commissions to oversee food production railroad operations and labor relations . Increase in pay in Africa of $ 15 dollars to $ 18 dollars an hour for base pay for all menial tasks and job security included with automatic union membership of them signing their job contracts W 2 forms .

Proposing the New day of medicine and cured act

Just to speak a blessing over your life you have talk as if you already have that cure or remedy that you and your sick family member need to live another day .

Expedient Liver transplant

Expedient Heart transplant

Expedient Kidney transplant

Exo skeleton programs and physical therapy affordable to all levels of medical insurances or lack thereof No more waiting lists and taking years to help heal those in need of an Liver , Kidney or Heart transplant I believe medicine all doctors have advanced in knowledge and in the proper know how to help heal those in pain and in need of their loving care and special expert skills .

People are jealous of me because I own my own Incubator hospital in Brooklyn New York City and save lives with it my other weapon Given to me by Governor Andrew Cuomo , Thank you and yes I'm King 👑 Arthur and Joyce Meyer the famous lady preacher is my Excalibur.

I rededicate my life to my pastors and ministers teaching since they promise to hold on to me and never let me go because of the voodoo placed on my life and won't be using profane language on this computer no more for no reason unless expressed in one of my songs or something I wish all musicians the best of luck in their careers especially Roc Nation artists all of them cash money Rich Gang and Young Money Wayne record label sorry about the nonsense on the computer but your name is cleared and I find you to be all decent human beings .

Next line of business

I'm going for proposing the cure for all stages of cancer again and all types of cancers and medical professionals giving the common people the cure for all cancers with any kind of medical insurance included is Medicaid and Medicare or lack of medical insurance they all deserve the same treatments . Since they gave me one cure for cancer in my name already I figure why not try to cure all cancers and help bring people back from their death beds that is my greatest wish for them that all patients needing help get cured for all cancers in all stages of cancer with Medicaid , Medicare , lack of medical insurance and even do have some medical insurance through their job and employers benefit programs but lack the sufficient funds for the complete operations and medicine by pharmacology partnering with that person insurance company and paying the rest for that person operation and cure it creates more dollars for those hospitals and their administration because of the more flow of customers that walk in those doors because they have not given up hope on a faulty medical system due to them not doing their job which is caring for their patients that is what they got into the medical field for was to help heal their patients with care , love and compassion for all human beings .

I sponsor it the drug and HIV medicine Cabenuva . I sponsor my incubator program and all hospitals on all 7 Continents of this world in every city , town and country even state capitals releasing the cure for cancer all cancers and to give free cancer screening and free cancer treatment for all the types of cancers and stages of cancer treatment to all people no matter their medical insurance coverage , Medicaid and , Medicare and all other insurances or lack thereof included fair treatment for all patients and clients . If I had HIV Aids I would take the medicine be like me and take your medicine so you could grow up healthy and strong like me and 50 Cent the rap musician from New York City we are co founders of the cure for HIV just know that all things is possible when you believe and have faith and now with Cabenuva we have that cure finally , thank you so much .

Facts on cancer I sponsor any lab that is trying to find the cure for Pancreatic cancer , I sponsor it most of the time inventors are afraid to go public with their gadget , widget , app or medical cure because they have nobody that will license it from them and sponsor , me and my incubator will sponsor your drug to cure all cancers in all stages I'm into doing the lord's work and bringing people back from the dead or near death experiences , good luck and may medicine and God be with you .

Calling all top universities in the country and other countries and third world countries and medical science laboratories I'm on the lookout for the cure for all cancers I got the cure for HIV / AIDS now all I need is the cure for cancer I believe in you and I know you can do it . I found the cure for HIV / Aids the drug Cabenuva and Demivato and many more other drugs you have to take the medication as it is prescribed to go undetected for HIV / Aids the acquired immune deficiency syndrome the drug along with better self care like your diet and exercise doing that you will restore yourself back to fully functioning health remember take your medication as it is prescribed and the cure happens one day at a time . I'm also currently working on providing free cancer screening for people on Medicare / Medicaid and even for people without any medical insurance and the cure for all cancers and the treatment and cure for all stages of cancer for people on Medicare / Medicaid and even for people without any medical insurance and hospitals to work with a person's medical insurance company on affordable co- pay for all levels of insurance coverage making it impossible to turn away any person needing that diagnosis , treatment and cure for all cancers excluding none and for all stages of cancer . I see it all the time a person getting turned away because of their medical coverage or lack of coverage and that is unfair in the medical field the job is to treat all ills and reverse the order bring that person back to full health and I sponsor this for all countries across the globe and all hospitals I authorize it to see it go into plans of all clinics and hospitals now , thank you . My job is to bring back the terminally ill from their death bed with a cure for cancer and with the new assisted treatment from doctors to help patients with the right medical coverage or lack of medical coverage and give them the care they need or the cure they need to reverse that illness and bring them back to full health .

What I'm saying to you is that I want to take a person from their death bed all the way back to full recovery from that person with terminal cancer on their death bed and their family considering them gone and they already moved on with their lives and restore that person to full health through the cure for cancers I have some under my name already now thank you so much please keep them coming I will invest in that more cures for cancers any and all cancers now which I'm now sponsoring and the medication already found under my name and watch and administer that to that terminally ill person and bring them back to full health don't pull the plug on them yet I'm here to rescue you from that painful death and prolong your life longer for you and I sponsor them being given full fair treatment with medical coverage or the lack of medical coverage or not even the adequate or right medical coverage I sponsor bringing them back to full health as a hospital owner and incubator and hospital tech buildings owner myself .

I apologize to the public in the construction of this page I may have posted too much I just wanted to help the people all people as for me the helping is what I'm proud of I'm just glad all my friends and their family is successful and is prospering in their music careers and careers in general and prospering in their family life and their kids is doing good in school , as for me I have all these accomplishments I found all these cures have yet to beat this voodoo curse on my life now I got to get me together and find the cure for this curse voodoo curse on my life get rid of it forever and then enjoy my life again , thank you it has been an honor helping the people all people .

Are Caribbean countries poor?Poverty continues to challenge Latin American and Caribbean countries, with approximately one in three people in the region in poverty and one in seven in extreme poverty. This paper provides up-to-date insights through analysis of who the poor are, where they are located, and how they live in the region.

Watch videos on YouTube on poorest countries in the world and see how they live daily and send help please in my name I sponsor it , thank you

What is the most unequal country in Latin America? Brazil Gini coefficient income distribution inequality in Latin America 2022, by country. Based on the degree of inequality in income distribution measured by the Gini coefficient, Brazil was the most unequal country in Latin America as of 2022. Brazil's Gini coefficient amounted to 52.9.Dec 2, 2024 sickness I propose an economic boost by employers in Brazil and job creation just follow this page plans for African countries and help .

Tough list if you know of other videos of places needing that help from your researching of countries that need that help please send that help from clean water , economic programs like mines in the United States of America wage salary increase , the cure for all diseases from my incubator program the cure for HIV and cure for some cancers I'm the proud co founder of those treatments and cures and and all medicines to help stabilize that countries people and the rebuilding of that countries infrastructure through my agriculture program send food to eat to end their hunger food and vegetables and good water to drink to kill the worms found in the babies unclean water and end their malnutrition diet and invest in the rebuilding of their ecosystem and wage salary monies increased on their paycheck for Africa's effected regions and other poor countries around the world 🌍 send that help in my name I sponsor it , thank you .

No more drama as promised please read the page and help those in need of the help .

Good luck to all musicians in their music career excluding hopefully myself included I do got my second stage happening for me soon I hope see you next year enjoy the page .

I'm staying with Joyce Meyer we got our own room in the Berkshire library from the cover of her book blessed in the mess that is my Camelot and she is my Excalibur my teacher of God's word and like I said I'm staying with her and she promised to never let me go and I choose now and always to go her way in life for my life that is my final decision to get out of cyber bullying and puppet masters controlling me on this computer goodbye .

Beyonce , Me and Meaghan the stallion from Houston Texas my family and you know Nicki Minaj the rapper my Marilyn Monroe from Trinidad my Mufasa get to see me once in a while the town is in her colors to protect me and then me and Joyce Meyer that is big you should be jealous read her books she got a book on any subject or problems you may be dealing with , my Excalibur thank you .

Leave it to Jay Z he stooped to my level to say that he will distribute my music 🎶 just develop some music business expertise just develop a gimmick I got some ideas and I'm going for it and he also promise me a spot with him on Roc Nation and the second stage theater is about me and my second chance at music so I will just tie it in from there and my pastors and minister is apart of my life to civilize me so I know I gotta edit my whole being and not cut any corners because of my cause and importance in the medical field but I gotta take my chance and go for everything that is for me see you soon .

African Americans and only the racist only the racist out of white people my bad I don't like controversy is asked to get off of me with that voodoo the mind control get off me with that and no I'm west Indian I ain't African American and no their ain't nothing between me and bloods the gang I said no to them being apart of my life no disrespect to them the bloods the gang members in the streets that is their claim to fame using voodoo and police and hating on me so no to them in my life and racist white people and sellouts that integrated with racist people no racism no thanks no disrespect to them and African Americans can get off me with their voodoo on me their people like all people on this earth is welcome for my help but sorry no attaching yourself to me using police , courtrooms , the media and voodoo and mind control no thank you . Sorry bro no police in my life they harass me everywhere I go they gang but sorry they get no attention from me like the gang members from the streets and the bloods out of their gang that is made their whole life to be against me I'm sorry the Governors protect me and give me my own hospital program my incubator program and programs for my schooling so get a life and do something with your life chase money not me so they can stop harassing me with police they do what they want to black people them and racist white people only the racist out of them though they racist and black police officers sellouts so no thank you , I'm legit , I don't do crime and I own my own incubator program and is superman fixing and helping the world wherever they need help .

All this to get that voodoo curse off of my life my soul my mind and my being please get off of me .

I don't post no more and happy new year and happy new year Josh Vietti hot track bro it's hot I love the song and congratulations to me and my incubator program and 50 Cent the rapper for finding the cure for HIV/ AIDs along with me we did that together you could say we ended as friends so much love to him and his team at power and BMF we turned out okay we me and 50 Cent getting that statue in Harlem New York City for co founding the cure for HIV / AIDs and me legalizing weed and boosting the salary of the every day worker and many more other accomplishments I go off not wanting no attention from no industry the media and their fake stories the radio I don't watch tv or follow radio and radio shows so no harassing me no thank you and making documentaries or movies about me anymore no thank you and yes you are welcome for my help , peace I'm King 👑 Arthur and Joyce Meyer is my Excalibur read her books I hope I did good introducing the world to her she is amazing she is my mom my best friend pastor and teacher and guide in my life , thank you it has been an honor helping the people .

Medical cures , treatment and prevention month .leukemia /lo͞oˈkēmēə / ‹Brit.› leukaemia I. noun a malignant progressive disease in which the bone marrow and other blood-forming organs produce increased numbers of immature or abnormal leukocytes. These suppress the production of normal blood cells, leading to anemia and other symptoms. II. derivatives leukemic /lo͞oˈkēmik / adjective – origin mid 19th cent.: coined in German from Greek leukos ‘white’ + haima ‘blood.’

Calling all Children's hospital doctors and laboratories and all university inventing new medicine I'm on the lookout for the cure for all children cancers and Leukemia . I'm Calling for the cure for Leukemia and cancer in children can you help me with your expertise I will sponsor your medicine for you and bring it to the light . With my hospital incubator program I aim to treat and cure all illnesses, thank you so much .

My statue in Harlem New York City on 135th street for finding the cure for HIV / AIDS with my co founder 50 Cent the rapper from Queens New York City Hit show power and BMF you know the gangster rapper the brolic guy 50 Cent the rap musician we found the cure for HIV/ AIDS together and we got a statue for it in New York City they yellow statue , thank you so much , I love the cause . Good luck to the entertainment industry and the streets they work with police and I said no to NYPD , prison guards and police everywhere get off of me and stop harassing me the media included . I own my incubator program and I'm bounded to it period story done .

I think I'm done now I think I got it now I'm recommitting my life to my teacher and best friend mom and guide Joyce Meyer the famous lady preacher my teacher , I will treat this page with respect and cut all profanity and disrespect on this page going forward in life . I'm sorry this page is to good I love it and won't be using profanity on this page no more so people games and show is over with me I'm King 👑 Arthur and Joyce Meyer is my Excalibur . All my critics go away I could say I work for Taylor Swift the music singer with this page so no controversy and it is for all people .

Joyce Meyer gave me some books to read my own personal books from her now I read them and stay quiet I will keep the books she gave it to me it is mines and Nicki Minaj gave me some books to read so I get my life together she good she living her life looking good and smelling good and she gave me her respect and I'm living my life I own my own incubator program .

I will keep the respect shirt from Nicki Minaj and that is how I left it my phone is on do not disturb so I don't get to see anybody missing me I will keep it as me and her left it at respect , the town that I'm in is in her color and she said to me to never settle and I'm singing off now I'm the incubator man .

I own my incubator program and I'm bounded to it period story done ain't nobody take nothing from me Governor Andrew Cuomo said it is nothing between bloods the gang and police period . Ain't nobody own nothing about me or mines , ever aight and goodbye and stop attaching yourself to me and get out of my life period , no thank you to the streets and their police games and police and gangs harassing me get off of me and get a life Governor Andrew Cuomo said it is nothing about them or police with me so stop harassing me the media included get off of me and get out of my life and stop watching my incubator and get a life and chase money not me . I'm taking a much needed break and take care of myself basically I'm off social media all in all I did a great job with this page so I hope it helps those that need that help . The Berkshire Library got a great picture with me and Joyce Meyer my pastor my teacher best friend and mom my Excalibur all hail King 👑 Arthur ( me ) and I'm staying with her and going her way with my life and read the books she wrote for me personally . With Joyce Meyer as my mom , teacher , guide , instructor I'm labeled King 👑 of Christianity now which is cool because I'm young I'm already King Arthur and the new monarch old leadership have gone away I know they gone from me for good and my decree for the people is to put God first in your life read your bible and read her books and my pastor and teachers Joel and Victoria Osteen . I said no to bloods the gang and African Americans there is nothing between us they go their own way from me while I conduct my business I really got nothing to do with the people of Pittsfield Massachusetts my help did help them but other than that I stay to myself and moved on from them while I'm here I'm King 👑 Arthur and Joyce Meyer is my Excalibur but other than that I really got no friends and business partners out here so I stay to myself . I let people go out of my life so we don't clash we got nothing in common and we all suppose to getting our life together so I let people go , no thanks I roll solo now and I'm cool with that , like I said no thanks I teach and train myself I'm keeping my ministers and pastors in my life I'm a musician so they get to hear from me much but I tune into their stuff to keep myself clean and intelligent.

I'm thinking you better get like me and have the attitude I can make it in any industry or get money and nobody can stop me as for me rest in peace to me and me with my incubator program and no get off of me with that voodoo and anything about me and no fuck Hollywood, Hip Hop , TMZ or anything like that get off of me I like my social cause and what I'm about the medical field and I been killed to much times to care anyway , I'm taken by myself and my faith in God so get off me Satan the accursed .

No Dawn and dirty angels get off of me no demons around me get off of me go away , I will keep my second stage and second chance in life without you and any critics and enemies of mines no thank you .

Nicki could date who she want and marry who she want we got Massachusetts together , thank you she is with me in life or death she did that for me , thank you I mind my own business stay out my way in life . Yes you could date my sisters the females in my life all of them all of four of them do you , I'm great just being a peasant King 👑 I'm for the people and the Lord and my music is my delight .

I meant to say to the Carter family Jay Z and his family to turn their head because they are going to be cursing on this computer through me and I'm trying to get this curse off of me , still waiting and Meaghan the Stallion is working with me while I rehabilitate myself outside in the cold and to turn their phone off to any alerts about me and from me my brother Aaron does it and so should they the whole Rock Nation managed artists and record label I wouldn't listen to nothing coming from this way and have the attitude we good we made it and nobody stop me from getting on in the industry and making dope music , history , money and fun .

In music I'm not working with you and for you and you not in my head talking to me anymore writing for me or thinking for me anymore I said no and no room for you in my apartment show is over no thank you and game over you got better artists out here in Massachusetts than me so you gotta be putting secret microphones and secret cameras around me I want you off of me and stop bugging me and watching me .

The reason why

I got my second stage I will listen to it that means the voodoo off of me and my second chance in life get out of my way in life so I could live my life .

I'm King 👑 Arthur and Joyce Meyer is my Excalibur and I'm taken by the Lord ( myself ) the Messiah and King of Christianity with Joyce Meyer because of I'm Joyce Meyer and Joel Osteen and Victoria Osteen as my teachers and guide mom best friend and pastor . I let people the drama people go out of my life so we don't clash we got nothing in common and we all suppose to getting our life together anyway so I let people go , no thanks and no disrespect I roll solo now and I'm cool with that , like I said in practical life though I do teach and train myself I'm keeping my ministers and pastors in my life though and like I said I'm King 👑 Arthur and Joyce Meyer is my Excalibur .

Signing off I'm the incubator man .

212 notes · View notes

sabersandsnipers · 1 year ago

Text

Drabbles: Reader is Sick or in Pain

Gortash

Enver Gortash considers himself a very busy man, but still finds himself wanting to spend every free moment he has at your side. And he feels anger. Anger at the fact that he can’t cure you instantly. Sure, there are spells to heal wounds and cure disease, but nothing for a simple cold.

He’s in and out of your shared chambers throughout the day to check on you. He walks in after a particularly time consuming event only to find you buried under the covers, a cough bursting from you every minute or so. Your congested breathing causes his heart to ache. He wishes he could take the pain for you.

He pulls back the covers a bit to take in your beautiful features. Your eyelashes flutter at the sudden brightness. He places his hand on your forehead. The warmth of them feels good against your skin, and you lean into his touch.

He can’t help himself, he leans down and presses his lips to yours. Your hands find their way to his chest. He waits for the feel of your palms sliding over his skin, but instead you give him a slight push away.

“No, you’ll get sick,” you say, eyes staring up at him.

“I think I’ll live,” he responds, grinning. Then he climbs right into bed with you, robes and all.

Astarion

Astarion had all but forgotten what it was like to get ill. In all his two hundred years of living as a vampire, he had never gotten sick. It was perhaps the only perk of becoming such a creature.

So when you fall ill, he delves into every book he can find on helping with fevers, flus, and everything inbetween. He also visited Shadowheart and Halsin, hoping they could help provide some remedies for you.

The stomach flu is currently what has you in its clutches. Every hour, your stomach rolls and empties what little content is left. Astarion is right there by your side every time. He holds your hair back and uses his cold fingers to trace along your neck.

Every time you get sick, your body flushes with heat. Sweat gathers on your forehead and your body shakes with fever. Astarion notices your struggle, and will pull you into his cool chest for relief.

The feel of his cold skin against yours brings a sigh of relief from your lips. His chest is firm yet smooth, and grounds you against the pain you feel. And he’s more than happy to help you. He prays to whatever gods you believe in that you will recover soon.

Halsin

Your cycle is here earlier than its supposed to be, and it’s here in full force as well. The pain in your lower abdomen is blinding, radiating to your lower back and digging in its claws wherever it can. Curling up into a ball and applying heat when it’s available is the only relief you can find.

Halsin paces in your shared tent, gathering whatever remedies he can to help you. Something you didn’t realize about Halsin until you shared a tent by the way, was that when in private, he’s always naked. Usually watching his massive frame do such gentle work has you craving his touch. But today, the pain takes over.

“My heart, what has helped you the most with your pain?” he asks, leaning down to lightly brush a strand of hair out of your face.

“Heat,” you respond, leaning into the warmth of his touch.

He smiles. “I think I can help with that.”

He scooches in behind you, pulling you back so you’re flush with his chest. One of his magnificently large hands snakes over your lower abdomen, pressing down so waves of warmth radiate towards the spasms and cramps that won’t leave you be. He’s not done yet either. He nudges a large, muscled thigh between your legs, right up against your core. The heat from him soothes the soreness you feel there.

“Oh gods,” you sigh, moving your hips back to get as close to him as you can.

Halsin groans. “Careful, little one. I need you to rest, and it’s hard to let that happen when you move like that.” He twitches against your bottom.

You grin. Even in this condition, he still can’t help but find you irresistible.

#bg3 #bg3 imagine #enver gortash #enver gortash x reader #gortash #gortash x reader #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion imagine #halsin #halsin x reader #halsin imagine

2K notes · View notes

orcasoul · 13 days ago

Text

The Lesser of Two Evils

Summery: You begin to doubt your preconceptions about Marcus. Your actions last night catch up to you with dire concequences.

Warnings: Swearing, smut (eventual), threats of rape, sexual harassment, violence, gore, detailed injuries, angst, enemies(ish) to lovers, protective Marcus Acacius, age gap, OFC/reader

Word Count: 5,214

Chapter 3 Friend or foe?

Dawn breaks hazily over the ancient woodland. Morning mist blankets the emerald foliage in tiny dew drops, which glisten when the sun manages to seep through the clouds. You've ridden all night, mostly in silence. For hours your mind has been stuck on an endless loop; blood, the feeling of flesh tearing, the life you ended. It was then you'd realised you had left your fathers knife embedded in Adhelms chest. Your heart sank to your stomach. That knife was all you had left of your father and now a part of you feels like you've lost him all over again.

Fresh tears tingle in your eyes under the crushing feeling of loss. Marcus' voice snapped you out of your thoughts. "We should stop for a while and rest the horse. She's been carrying us all night." Poor Inga. You'd been too lost in your own head to pay her any mind. "Okay." You gently squeeze the reins, bringing her to a stop. You dismount and turn to help Marcus down. "Thank you," he nods and limps to the nearest tree, plonking down, rather ungracefully. You tether Inga's reins to a low branch so she can lower her head to graze.

Placing your bag on the floor, you sit, cross legged in front of it and begin to rummage inside, pulling out a cloth filled with cured meat. After dividing the it evenly, you wrap up half and toss it over to land on Marcus' lap. "It's not much but it's better than nothing." "Appreciate it," Marcus says with a small nod. You both eat in silence for the next several minutes, the sounds of Inga grazing and the birds chirping are amplified in the otherwise still forrest. You decide to break the silence. "How's the leg?" you ask, tipping your head to his wound. "It's sore, but it'll be fine." "I should check it." You open your bag to gather fresh bandages, balm and your water skin.

"There's no need," Marcus shrugs and lays his head back against the tree, closing his eyes. You roll your eyes at his stubbourness. "No point you making it this far just to die of an infection now. Just let me check it." Marcus sighs and slowly opens his his eyes. He holds your gaze for a moment as if he doesn't want to admit you're right. "Very well," he grumbles and shifts onto his side, exposing the wound to you. He hisses as you peel the blood soaked rag from his skin. He must have bled while riding. The balm you apply stings as it makes contact with his raw skin. "Sorry..." you suck in through your teeth, "It won't take much longer."

Through the sting Marcus can feel how delicate your touch is, how you are careful to not add too much pressure. The sensation becomes somewhat soothing as the pain eases. He's almost disappointed when you finish wrapping his leg, coldness replacing the warmth of your fingertips. "All done," you sighed, voice flat and drained. After packing your bag, you too sit against a tree, head back and eyes closed. But the crystal clear image of Adhelms shocked face flashes before you, taunting you. Your eyes shoot open, unable to bare the sight. You bring your knees to your chest and lay your head on them, shaking it as if the motion could expel the mental picture from your head.

"You know he didn't give you a choice, right?" Marcus says with caution. "It was either kill or be killed." Your shoulders tense as your head snaps up. Shame has you turning your head from Marcus' gaze. "You did nothing wrong," he continues. "You defended yourself." "Can you just...!" You let out a defeated breath, still unable to look at him. "Can you not speak of it... please?" Your voice cracked on that last word and Marcus suspects that you've never had to kill anyone before now. He remembers with clarity his first kill and how it haunted him for so long, so he can sympathize with the inner turmoil you're feeling at this moment.

"Alright." he responded, gently. "But if you ever feel the need to talk abou-" "I don't!" you snap, frustration evident in your voice. Marcus says nothing more, much to your relief, but the silence that follows is now heavy. A part of you feels compelled to say something, anything to lighten the atmosphere, but at the same time, you just haven't got the energy. And besides, he's a Roman and you are of the Gutones. Its not like you're here to befriend him and vice versa. You're both using each other for one common goal; to get safely to Rome, and once Marcus has fulfilled his promise to grant you citizenship you will both make your own paths in life. You're not sure how much time has passed while being stuck in your own head, worrying about the arduous journey and all the uncertainties ahead of you, when Marcus rises somewhat unsteadily to his feet.

"We should press on. We don't know if we're being followed." He steps in front of you, offering you his hand. Reluctantly, you take it. As he pulls you up, you unintentionally make make eye contact and for the first time you notice how the rich brown tones of his irises blend together and your breath catches in your chest. After a moment, you realise you're still holding his hand and you quickly pull yours away, still feeling the warmth of his palm on yours. You offer a small, awkward smile and make your way over to Inga. Marcus limps behind, wordlessly, climbing up behind you and you're sure you can sense the same awkwardness from him that you'd just felt.

*****

Hours pass before you stop to rest again. The last of the rations have been consumed but it shouldn't be a problem. If all goes well, you'll reach the Roman encampment tomorrow. You both ride on until the evening sunshine begins to slip below the horizon, casting an almost eerie haze across the ancient landscape. It's no wonder that settings such as this gave rise to tales of encounters with otherworldly creatures such as the Irrlicht, Aufhocker and Fevermann. It's almost as if the forrest itself has eyes. Just before dusk blends into night you reach the river Isar. You are only a few miles from the encampment now and you would have insisted on travelling through the night if it wasnt for an approaching storm.

A nearby cave has become your saving grace for the night. Luckily, it's quite small and doesn't stretch back far, meaning it won't house any preditors. It has just enough room for the three of you to shelter from the elements. Do you t-think it's safe enough to l-light a fire tonight?" you ask through chattering teeth. Of course it's too risky out in the open - the light and smoke would be a beacon to anyone pursuing you - but inside the cave entrance should be okay. Marcus is silent for a moment, weighing up the pros and cons. Finally, he decides. "A small one, just to warm up for a while." As if the gods had been aiding you all along, you just so happen to find some dry sticks and kindling further back in the cave. There had obviously been some nests in here in the past.

You gather them up and place them in a pile in front of you. Marcus takes two stones in hand and in no time at all a warm and welcoming fire lights up the dark cave. It's amazing how simply having a fire can lift your spirits and bring a sense of calm, despite the grave situation you are in. Outside the wind has picked up, whipping the rain sideways. The howling wind makes Inga restless, so to calm her you smooth your hands down her neck while humming a tune quietly. After a few minutes she relaxes enough to lay down. When you turn to walk back to the fire you see that Marcus had been watching the whole interaction, only now turing his head back to the fire as you sit next to him - but keeping a respectful distance.

Holding your hands over the fire, an involuntary shiver ripples through your body as the warmth begins to seep into your bones. "That song... it sounded nice," Marcus said, still staring into the flames. "Yeah..." you nod. "My mother used to sing it to me whenever I had a bad dream." After a moment's silence Marcus asks, "What happened to your parents?" Judging by your now rigid posture and tense jaw, this is a... difficult subject for you. "Nothing," you replied, sharply. Marcus sighed exhasperatedly. "Alia..." You turn your head to face Marcus at the serious tone of his voice. "I do not wish to pry into your past, but I need to know why you fled; what these people did to drive you to turn away from them." You narrowed your eyes in response. "You don't need to know that." "Yes, I do," Marcus insisted, eyebrows set in a firm frown.

"I'm involved now and I need to know what I'm bringing back to my men, to Rome. If I'm going to vouch for you, I should know everything." An indignant scoff rose up your throat. "That wasn't part of the deal. The agreement was I help you escape and you take me to Rome!" The audacity of this man to change the terms now. Your cheeks become flushed with ire as you stare in disbelief at the now impassive face of the general. "That was before I realised you're hiding something. And if it could compromise my legion or my honour-" "You really thInk I could be dangerous?" you laugh, devoid of actual humour.

"You tell me," Marcus eyed you warily as if he was trying to figure you out. "What did your chief mean when he said you couldn't be trusted? Why did he call you evil?" With a frustrated sigh, you roll your eyes closed and shake your head. He's not going to drop this! "You want the truth, fine. Everyone in my village believes I'm a Seer..." "A Seer?" Marcus questioned, raising one eyebrow. "Someone with... unnatural abilities." "You mean like a witch?"

You nod briefly, lower your head and continue, "My mother was considered to be a bit odd in the community just because she kept to herself. She also helped people with various ailments. For a long time people appreciated her contribution, but one year the harvest failed and when people got hungry and angry enough they blamed her. One night a large group came to our house and my..." You pause to take a breath and blink back the threat of tears. "My father was killed when he tried to protect her... and then they burned the house down with my mother inside it." Your head has turned away now, tucked into your shoulder, waiting for the inevitable fear? hate? rejection? There's no way he'll allow you to remain with him now.

So you're a bit surprised when he calmly asks you, "How old were you when it happened?" "Eight," you mumble, quietly. "I'm sorry," Marcus whispered, softly. You slowly lift your head and take in the look of sadness and sincerity on his face. His large eyes seem to shimmer in the glow of the fire and there's a hint of disbelief in them. A heaviness settles in your chest, causing your throat to tighten and your chin to tremble. This is the most kindness you've been shown in years. You quickly wipe away the water blurring your vision and turn your attention back to the fire. "No child should ever have to endure something like that." You nod and exhale, "I think the only reason I was spared is because I was a child."

The air has now become oppressively quiet, as if neither of you know how to steer away from such a dark revelation. Marcus then clears his throat, "Let's get some rest. We leave at dawn." You whip around to Marcus in surprise. "You mean I can still come with you?!" Marcus' brow scrunches at your incredulity. "That was the deal, was it not?" "Well, yes but..." Marcus shifts to fully face you now. "But...?" "I just assumed you'd want to be rid of me, knowing the truth." Marcus scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't believe for one second that you're a witch, or that your mother was." Stunned, your jaw hangs low as your mind scrambles to process what you'd just heard. "So... you don't fear me?"

"No," Marcus stated, with no reservations. "I am not a superstitious simpleton, and you didn't deserve what they did to you." Marcus' words struck you deeply, completely upending what you had been led to believe about Romans. You had been told nothing but horror stories of rape, torture and unspeakable brutality that befell anyone in their path. That they are an unstoppable force that thrived on terror and carnage, yet the first actual Roman you have met is nothing of the sort. He hasn't attempted to harm you in any way and even now, after learning of your past he intends to keep his promise to you.

In a small, wobbly voice you say the only thing you can think of, "Thank you." Marcus nods to acknowledge your appreciation. He can sense there's so much more to your gratitude that you can't articulate at this moment. They say the eyes are the window to the soul and now, in your glassy eyes he sees the weight of all you have suffered, but also a flicker of hope. A part of him feels contented that he could bring you said hope, even if it's just the smallest morsel. The feeling is strange to him, a satisfaction he rarely feels. It's settling and unsettling at the same time. "You get some sleep," Marcus offers. "I'll take the first watch." You give him the faintest hint of a smile before laying down by the fire. "Goodnight Marcus," you say, softly. "Goodnight, Alia."

You wake just as the sun begins to brighten the early morning sky, the birds' melody bringing you back to the world. The cold air sends a shiver through your body as you roll onto your side, noticing the fire has reduced to embers. On the other side of the fire, Marcus snores lightly. Why the hell didn't he wake me? A shuffling outside the cave makes your heart jump up into your throat. Tip Toeing to the entrance, you release your bated breath when you realise it's just the horse grazing. You walk over to where Marcus is fast asleep. Crouching down, you gently touch his shoulder to rouse him.

The moment your fingers brushed him, Marcus' hand shot out, lightening quick, gripping your wrist so tightly you would have cried out, if not for his other hand squeezing your throat. Before you even realise it, you're on your back, Marcus pinning you down while his eyelids blink rapidly. "Fuck!" he gasped as he realised his mistake. He released you as if your skin had physically burned him, throwing himself off of you. "Forgive me," he stuttered, panic evident on his face "I didn't- I thought... Shit! Are you okay?" He reached out to comfort you as you lay gasping and coughing beside him, rubbing your tender throat.

But as soon as he made contact with you you recoiled sharply, looking anywhere but at him. "I'm sorry," Marcus held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I didn't mean to hurt you." "It's okay," you answer fearfully, voice raspy from coughing. "I just wanted..." cough, "to tell you..." cough, cough, "I'm going to take the horse to the river to drink." Your throat burns with every word. "I'll... be right back." You quickly get to your feet, grab your water skin and make a quick exit. Marcus watches you leave, a part of him wanting to call you back, to make sure he didn't hurt you. Guilt gnaws at him as the image of your wide eyes and red face refuses to leave his mind.

He rubs a hand over his face in exasperation, cursing himself for falling asleep. If he'd woken you as he'd intended, this never would have happened. The last thing he desires is for you to fear him. He rises, his leg stiff but feeling a bit stronger and limps to the cave entrance, ready to follow you to the river to make amends. He walks out into the gleam of the morning sun, shielding his squinting eyes with his hand when it happened. The wind is knocked out of Marcus as he is tackled to the ground, pain shooting through his back with the force of the impact. His attacker quickly rolls behind him, gripping him around the neck with both arms.

"Hold him still!" another man yells as he approaches with his sword drawn. Marcus, now on crouched legs, fights to free himself from the headlock but the grip is solid. "You and that little bitch are going to pay for what you've done!" the man restraining Marcus growled into his ear. A burst of fury and determination overtakes Marcus. Damn it, you'd both made it this far. He won't let it end like this now. Not when you're both so close to safety. With his uninjured leg, he kicks out at the man in front of him, hitting his kneecap. The sound of crunching bone is almost drowned out as his would be executioner wails in agony, dropping his sword and falling to the ground.

The man holding Marcus freezes in shock, giving him the opportunity to strike. He throws a hand over his shoulder, digging his thumb into the mans eye. He looses his grip around Marcus' neck, screaming as he falls onto his back, hands over his bloodied eye. Adrenaline pushes Marcus to his feet, despite the pain in his leg, and he swiftly grabs the sword. Moments later both men lay dead, blood pouring from their open throats as Marcus drops to his knees, catching his breath. But he doesn't have long to compose himself. Your shrill scream echoes through the trees causing Marcus' heart to seize with dread. Gripping his sword tightly he pushes up and limp - runs as fast as he can towards the river.

*****

Sunlight dapples on the slow moving river, the splashing and burbling of water crashing against the rocks along with the smell of wet earth and moss invoke an atmosphere of calm and stillness to an already tense start to the day. You lead Inga to the waters edge, gently patting down her side as she begins to drink greedily. Crouching down, you begin to fill up your water skin, enjoying the feeling of the cool water on your fingers. Your throat and wrist still ache and upon closer inspection you can make out a faint ring of purple bruises already forming on your wrist.

It's clear what happened was an accident and that Marcus feels bad about it, but this incident reminds you that those who are stronger than you - both physically and mentally - will always have the upper hand. Last night you had seen a softer, more compassionate side to Marcus and foolishly, you had allowed yourself to lower your guard, just a little. The wake up call you gave him was also a wake up call to you. You can't put your trust in anyone. Marcus seems to be a man of honour and because of that, you've no doubt he will fulfil his promise to you, but if you ever get on his wrong side...? You shudder to think. He is a soldier after all, crafted on the battlefield; violence and brutality as much a natural part of him as everything else. And because of that, you cannot afford to underestimate him, ever.

You hadn't even realised you'd zoned out while contemplating until Inga began to shift nervously, heavy breath flaring her nostrils. A snap behind you has you spinning around, only to be met with a fist to your jaw. Shock pulses through you, both from the pain and the freezing water you now find yourself submerged in. A pair of hands squeezes your throat as you attempt to fight back, desperate for air. With the water distorting your vision all you can make out is the rippling face of a man above you. Just when your empty lungs can take it no more, you are roughly pulled out of the water, a furious Bardulf snarling in your face, teeth bared and spittle forming at his mouth.

He eases his grip just enough for you to suck in some much needed air. "You murderous, evil witch!" Raged Bardulf. "You killed my father, your chief in cold blood!" "Please!" you cry as he drags you from the water. "And then you run like the snivelling little coward you are!" He throws you to the ground, then flips you onto your back, straddling your hips and pinning you in place. Bardulf is joined by another man, a short, stocky man you've always seen lingering around him like a loyal and pathetic hound. "We should kill her now," he sneered. "No!" Bardulf snapped. "That's too quick, too merciful!" Bardulf grips your wrists as you attempt to claw at his face, pushing them to your sides and trapping them under his knees, leaving you completely defenceless.

"You thought your life was bad before? You have no idea what's waiting for you once I get you home. You will suffer like no one ever has before. I'm going to show you exactly what I'm capable of." Bardulf reached to his side and pulled out a knife. But not just any knife; your fathers' knife! "You forget something..." he smiled maniacally as he traced it lightly along your throat. "Thought you might like it BACK!" You watched in terror filled slow motion as he brought the knife down, sinking it into your shoulder. The scream that tore through your throat hurt even your own ears as white hot pain flashed through your upper body. Bardulf gripped your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye. "This is only the beginning," he threatened, darkness swirling in his horrid eyes.

"Heeeeelp!" "Scream all you want, bitch." Bardluf twisted the knife, clearly getting a sick kick out of your pain. "That Roman can't hear you now." Bardulf then stood up, kicking you in the ribs so hard the force rolled you over only to receive another hard kick from his friend. Your ribs feel like they're about to collapse from the unbearable force. Your instinct is to scream, but the constant blows mean you can't inhale. All you can do is lay there while they extract their pound of flesh. You honestly don't know how much more you can possibly withstand when suddenly a guttural roar swallows the men's laughter and you open your eyes to see the end of a sword protruding from the short mans chest, blood oozing from the laceration and from his mouth.

When he drops, Marcus is standing behind him, blood sprayed over his face and breastplate, swinging the bloodied sword in his hand. Bardulf unsheaths his own sword and lunges at Marcus. Marcus meets each blow time and again. Even in his weakened state, he can tell this fool is lacking in comparison. He has the skill but not the stamina. In his peripheral vision, Marcus can see you trying push yourself to your knees. Bardulfs attacks are becoming more sloppy and careless the angrier he gets. In a moment of fortune, Marcus seizes his oppertunity, disarming Bardulf with a quick twist of his sword.

The sword falls to the side, Bardulf throwing himself to the ground after it, stopping just out of reach as Marcus sweeps at him. Just before Bardulf can reach it, Marcus sees you grab the sword and toss it into the river, collapsing afterwards. "No!" Bardulf explodes, leaping up. He spins to see Marcus advancing on him, ducking out of the way of his sword at the last moment, and backing up. "This is far from over, Alia!" he warns before running off into the woods. Marcus drops the sword the moment the coast is clear, slumping to his knees beside you. It's only now he notices the knife lodged in your shoulder. A small whimper accompanies your laboured breathes, tears streaming down the sides of your face. Marcus feels sick at the sight. He should have gotten here sooner.

"Alia..." he calls but your tormented eyes are fixed on the sky. "Alia!" his tone is more commanding now as he gently grips your face in both hands, giving you nowhere to look but at him. "Look at me and listen carefully. You're going to be okay, do you hear me?" Marcus looks again at your shoulder, grimacing. "The knife doesn't appear to be too deep, but it will hurt to remove it. I have to take it out-' "No!" you beg, desperately, gripping both of his hands. "I have to and when I do you need to keep pressure on it. You can do it!" "No no, please!" Marcus has to swallow the lump forming in his throat. He's seen many injured people in his time but seeing someone like you in this situation - kind and soft and completely undeserving of such cruelty - hits him right in the center of his chest.

He rips a long strip of fabric from his own clothing and turns his attention back to you, wrapping his hand around the handle of the blade. "On the count of three," "No don't," "One..." "No!" "Two..." he continues trying to not focus on the fear in your voice. "Oh nononono!" "Three!" "ARRRRRGH!" That almost inhuman scream is one he hopes to never have to hear again. He quickly places your hand over the gushing wound. "Keep it there," he orders as he begins to wrap the fabric around your shoulder, only moving your hand when he's ready to tie the makeshift bandage. "It's all done," he soothes pressing his hand on your wound. "You were very brave." You wince as he keeps the pressure on you. "I'm sorry," he whispers, regretfully. "I'm going to help you up now." Marcus slips his hind under your back, supporting your weight, slowly pulling you to sit up. Your breath catches from the pain. "Where's the damn horse?!" Marcus grumbled looking around the immediate area, realising she must have panicked and ran off in all the commotion.

"We have to go. It's not safe here now. The horse has fled so we'll have to walk." Your head lolls to the side, colour draining from your face. "Hey!" Marcus taps your cheek. "Did you hear me?" You nod slowly, as your regain focus. "Good. Which way is east?" You point behind you. "Okay, let's go." Marcus groans as he pushes himself up, his leg now flaring with sharp jolts as warmth trickles down it. He must have pulled all the stitches during the fight. Seeing your father's knife beside you, you grab it and tuck it into the waist of your trousers. Marcus places your arm around his neck and pulls you up, holding you tightly around the waist and you both begin to head east.

*****

You've both been going for what feels like forever now, every step gruelling as Marcus struggles onward, half dragging you beside himself. His leg continues to bleed, the pain increasing as time wears on. As a soldier he has endured pain and injuries all of his adult life and has come out of it stronger; this time will be no different. With steely determination and the stubbornness to match even the most wilful mule, he ignores the persistent burn and staggers forth. "Marcus...?" you mumble, voice so quiet he doesn't hear you. "Ma... Marcus," you whine. "We n... need to stop." "No, we're not... far from the Castrum (army encampment). I... recognise this area. We should," urrgh, "come across a patrol soon." "Please," you implore. "I can't... walk anymore." Every breath, every step, every sway of your body shoots straight to your shoulder. You didn't know it was possible to feel fire under your skin! But that's how it feels; like a river of flames coursing through your chest and arm. Marcus stumbles on unsteadily, seemingly intent on ignoring you. You can tell he's tiring as his steps begin to falter.

"Leave me," you pant. "I'm slowing you down." Marcus' hold on you tightens, his voice low and gravelly. "Now you hear me. You did not come this far just to," urgh "give up now. I won't.. have it. There's strength in you, I see it." "I-" "No," Marcus cuts you off. "No more talking, just... walk. That's all you have to... do now. Just keep going." You haven't the energy to argue so you do as you are told. Time feels inconsequential right now. You don't know if you've been walking for minutes or hours. Through the constant ringing in your ears you notice Marcus' breathing has become heavier. Your steps have slowed to a snails pace, but then you realise it's not your steps that have practically stopped, but Marcus'. Up until this point you've just allowed yourself to be lead .

He suddenly collapses to his knees, taking you down with him, exhaustion weighing heavily on both of you. Marcus is clearly in great pain. You look to where his hand reaches behind his leg and gasp when his fingers come away red and shiny. "Your leg!" "It's fine," he grits between clenched teeth. "You should rest," you insist. "No time..." Marcus shakes his head, "We're nearly there." Marcus groans as he tries to stand, falling to the side. "Marcus!-" "Halt!" The booming voice makes you jump, aggravating your wound. "Who goes- General!" the roman before you exclaims in disbelief, lowering his sword. "God's be praised! We thought you had died sir!" "He... help her," Marcus rasped. "Yes sir. You two..." he points to two men in the patrol group, "help the General, you..." he points to another soldier, "Go on ahead. Inform the Medicuses and bring them to the Praetorium (Generals' tent).

Your head is spinning, consciousness becoming harder to cling too. When you feel two large hands grabbing you, you cry out in alarm, trying to shift away from the strange man, who is even larger than Marcus. Marcus' hand finds yours and you can instantly tell the difference, his already familiar touch grounding you. "He won't hurt you, I promise. We're safe now." Marcus' encouragement were more than just words to you; they're a comfort, a reassurance that your spent body can rest, knowing that whole dreadful ordeal is finally over. The soldier bends down and scoops you up, and with the adrenaline now dissolving from your system, your whole body slumps into the mans breastplate. Two soldiers drape Marcus' arms over their shoulders and pull him up, taking his weight as you all make your way to the Castrum (army encampment).

Series Masterlist Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 4 coming soon

@myownwholewildworldwhole @imherefordeanandbones @picketniffler @h0w-1-wanna-l1v3 @chrissy-forfucksakes-wakeup @meetmeatyourworst @yorksgirl @joeldjarin @echo-ethe @whirlwindrider29

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius smut #general acacius #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius fluff #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal characters #gladiator 2 #marcus acacius x ofc #marcus acacius angst #gladiator 2 movie

124 notes · View notes