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reidsdaisies · 3 months

Note

congrats on 500!! Can you write forget me not 19 with spencer x fem!reader where she’s in an abusive relationship (only if you’re comfy with it obviously!) and calls him for help? Tysm!

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; spencer reid x fem!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ prompt(s); forget-me-not, 19 – "Could you please come and get me?"

༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; crying (reader), mentions of abuser (readers partner, not spencer) yelling, having been drunk, and being the reason reader is sad, spencer comforting reader, spencer driving her to his place

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.9k

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; hi! ty for requesting lovey<3 in my guidelines it says I won’t write abusive relationships, but as long as none of the characters are the abusers and it’s on the side, I think I can make an exception.

celebrate with me!

cm masterlist ; main masterlist ; request guidelines ; inbox

Spencer hushes you, gently stroking your back. "Don't even think of him, okay?"

You just keep crying, your face buried in the sleeve of your sweatshirt, your sobs muffled. Spencer was acting like a saint, yet you couldn’t help but feel bad, as if you’d done something wrong. In actuality, you did nothing wrong; it was your partner that did, but he’s messed with your head so much to the point where you now struggle with differentiating right from wrong. The actual wrong thing to have done would have been to never contacted Spencer and to remain in the apartment with the man who had just verbally abused you.

“J-just focus on the road,” you say sniffling, dismissing him. Peeking over your arm, your gaze is drawn to the stars, watching as they twinkle in the night sky.

Spencer remains silent after that, not wanting to upset you even further, only wanting to get you back to his apartment—a safe place. You utilize this silent moment to reflect on the day’s events, whether you’d like to or not. Your thoughts wander to earlier that night, temporarily sending you back in time.

You relive recently made memories of your boyfriend, the mess he made of the flat, and the tears you wept as a result of his harmful impact on you. You try to fast forward and ignore what happened an hour ago, focusing instead on the event that brought you to your current location, sitting in the passenger seat of Spencer's car.

As soon as your boyfriend was done throwing his alcohol-fueled fit and you heard him slam the bedroom door shut, you simply left. You couldn’t take it longer, and you needed to leave before you could change your mind and tidy up his mess, or worse, crawl into bed with him and stay.

Your cellphone was still in the bedroom, and you didn’t want to risk enraging him further just to get it, so you decided you’d walk to the nearest pay phone and pray Spencer would answer your call.

You fished around in the pocket of your hoodie for a minute, pulling out some loose change you’d forgotten was in there but were so very thankful for. Inserting your coins, you dialed up the number of the only person in the world you knew you could entrust with the details your private life.

The phone rang a couple times, and after the third ring, you were met with Spencer’s groggy voice on the other line.

“This is Dr. Reid; may I ask who’s calling?” He grumbled, exhaustion evident in his voice. You heard a low grunt and the bed creak beneath him as he tried to sit up.

“It’s me, y/n,” you mumbled, your voice strained and disconsolate. He could hear your voice shake through the phone, which alarmed him, but he didn’t want to say anything until you finished speaking.

Your voice trembled as you weakly called his name, making sure he was still on the phone. “Spence..?”

“I’m here.” He finally came to full consciousness and sat up more in bed, his tone becoming more serious. “What’s wrong, y/n?”

“It’s my boyfriend; he.. it doesn’t matter. Could you please just come and get me?”

Any previous mention you’ve made of your current partner to Spencer was quite vague and awfully cryptic, and he could sense something was very wrong from how you tried to deflect from the topic of him.

Spencer had never left his bed sooner—even on rare mornings where he was late for work—and immediately agreed to pick you up whilst he fumbled with his slippers and tying his robe.

That same robe is still wrapped over his body, covering his grandpa-esque pajamas. You seem to be his top priority at all times, because he didn’t think twice before hopping in his car and driving straight to you. Just like you, he also looks a mess, with his hair mussed from sleep and heavy bags under his eyes.

Your eyes meet his, but it’s difficult to see him properly due to your blurred vision caused by all the non-stop crying. He begins to talk again.

“You don’t need to tell me what happened, okay? I want you to understand that. If you ever do want to talk, though, I’m right here. I’ll listen to you.”

“Thank you.. and I’m sorry for making you drive all this way just to pick up some battered woman.”

“You are not a battered woman, y/n.” Spencer cuts you off, his tone harsh, really trying to get you to believe it. “Nothing he does is your fault; you know that, right?” You’re hesitant to nod, but you do.

“Y/n,” he drawls, knowing you’re not entirely convinced it’s the truth.

“I know that, Spencer.” You respond, already wanting to be done with this conversation.

“I know you know that, but you seem to not be accepting it as fact.”

You sulk, but you can’t help but realize he’s correct; you don’t seem to be accepting it.

“Alright.”

“Alright?” He mimics.

“Yes, alright. I understand.”

“Ok, good, because I don’t want you to feel any guilt over his actions. I just want to help you.”

His words warm your heart and bring additional tears to your eyes. They roll down your face, staining your cheeks. His hand returns to the place it was earlier, rubbing circles on your back.

“I care for you so much, and it pains me to see you going through something like this.” You nod, wiping your tears off your face before they can wet your sweatshirt too.

“Thank you so much, Spencer.”

“It’s no problem; just try not to stress; we’ll be home soon..”

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littlejuicebox · 4 months

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Heya!

I’ve been lurking for a while and had this idea rattling around in my brain - how do you think Astarion would be around a sweet & unassuming Tav but he can tell they’re FILTHY in bed, maybe flirting via tadpole?

Love your writing, hope you’re doing well

- 🌹

Tattoo

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for quite a while, unsure if anon will still see it! This mostly answers the prompt, I think. Perhaps a small detour lol.

Summary: Astarion thought you were an innocent, blushing virgin that night in the clearing. He misjudged you. And now you’re all he can think about.

Tags: smut, 18+, masturbation, tadpole fliritng, mentions of oral

Word Count: 1K

-----

It wasn’t until that night in the moonlit clearing when Astarion realized you had a tattoo. But of course, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to see your enticing bit of body art any other way.

His original intent had been to use his skills that evening in an effort to repay you for the regular feedings. His unique way of rebalancing the scales, as it were. But now that little tattoo, just below the curve of your hip, in the dip where your thigh meets your — surprisingly delicious — mound is all he can think about.

Astarion’s delved his hand in his pants more than once this week thinking about that vision alone. He hasn’t felt the urge to touch himself in decades, but the memory of that dainty bit of ink constantly taunts him throughout the day, stirring a desire he hadn’t known in ages.

He knows it’s ridiculous – it’s just a bit of ink, for god's sake – and yet, tonight he felt compelled to seek relief by wrapping his own pale hand around his cock and rubbing himself ragged once again. And now he’s sprawled in his tent, the remains of his spend still splattered over his abdomen, and his mind is starting to wander back to that night.

He’d seen tattoos on others, of course. In almost any place imaginable. Most of them were horribly done.

But you? Well, you’d certainly caught him by surprise.

You’d seemed the picture of innocence, made up almost entirely of wide, doe eyes and gullibility. Before his proposition, he’d been almost positive you were a blushing virgin. An easy target.

But to have a tattoo in such a salacious location? And then to have your hot, sinful mouth wrapped around his cock, worshiping it with your tongue, as if you’d never tasted anything better? All with those big doe eyes watching his every move and clearly delighted by his own pleasure?

He hasn’t had an experience quite like that for as long as he can remember.

And, well, looks could certainly be deceiving, couldn’t they?

The taste of your blood as he sunk his sharp fangs into your soft flesh while you’d found release had been intoxicating. Part of him wants to experience it again; the other part knows – and desires to avoid – what he will have to do to achieve that particular flavor.

At this point, Astarion isn’t quite sure if he wants to proposition you again or not. Sure, the first time was satisfactory. Perhaps even a bit enjoyable. But still—

Suddenly, the rogue feels a tugging on the edge of his mind, ripping him from his musings. He recognizes this sensation, it’s a tadpole mind link. But something about this is… different. It isn’t accidental, it’s intentional. Someone in camp is reaching out to him.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Good thing he’s immortal.

Against his better judgment, Astarion opens his mind to the call. And there you are, waiting for him.

"I'm surprised you’re still awake,’ You say, and the silver-haired elf is shocked to hear your voice as if you’re right next to him. Interesting.

‘How did you realize we could do this?’ Astarion asks, and he hears your entertained laughter tinkle in the background of his psyche in response.

‘Shadowheart and I figured it out sometime last week. We’ve only used it to talk shit about everyone thus far.’ You reply, clearly proud of your discovery and thrilled by your own behavior.

‘Everyone?’ The rogue asks, not pleased about being the topic of you and your apparent best friend’s judgment.

‘Almost everyone,’ You amend, and there’s a brief flicker of affection in your psyche towards Astarion that you’re certain he notices before you quickly stomp it down.

You feel a ripple of Astarion’s own satisfaction at your amendment. He’s glad to not be the topic of your more unkind thoughts.

‘What are you still doing awake, darling?’ The vampire questions, ‘You are normally the first one snoring.’

There is the smallest wave of offense, and then a resigned acknowledgement at the truth in his statement. A pause of the mental conversation ensues as you seem to carefully weigh your next thoughts and move around in your tent.

‘I can’t sleep. Too much excitement today, I think. Too much pent up energy,’ You start, and then flash a vision through your own eyes, showing Astarion as you look down at your own barren mound, ‘Care to come and help me… release some of the tension?’

Astarion can see the tattoo through your eyes, greeting him in a sensual hello as you drag your fingers down it, on the way to touch yourself. Gods damn it.

He wants to take you up on your offer, but then he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know what he wants. So instead he dances around the topic, avoiding an answer, with a flirtatious admission of his own.

‘I’m afraid I have taken care of my own needs for the night,’ He replies, flashing you the quickest view of milky white liquid now beginning to dry upon his stomach.

A ripple of disappointment on your end. And then another pause.

‘Well… even though I wasn’t extended the same kind offer, you’re welcome to watch me as I take care of my own needs for the night.’ You offer, now teasing between your folds more insistently. You send the rogue another vision of your needy sex and two fingers now shining with arousal, ‘Via tadpole… or in person.’

Astarion has never thrown his shirt on and walked across the camp faster. In his haste, he broke the tadpole connection. But you hear him coming and barely peel back the flap of your tent, displaying the briefest sliver of your naked form.

The vampire pauses for a moment on the outside of your tent, debating if this is the right move. You’re still touching yourself, he can hear the slickness of your sex from here.

“Hurry up, Astarion,” You whisper, somewhat impatiently, as the urge to find release builds within you.

Fuck it, he thinks. He wants to run his tongue along that tattoo again, even if that’s all he does.

He quickly delves into the tent and ties it closed behind him without another thought.

Eventually, he does drag his masterful tongue along that tattoo, and around many other parts of your tempting body, after he decides to help you find a second release.

Simply watching the first one had been enough to make you almost irresistible. He wanted to sink his fangs into you again. Perhaps in your thigh this time, if you’d allow it.

Like a tattoo, his nights tasting you left him permanently altered.

#astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion smut #astarion reader smut #astarion reader insert #astarionxreader smut #astarionxyou smut #baldurs gate smut #baldurs gate 3 smut #smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!reader

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its-time-to-write · 10 months

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Can you write a Jamie Tartt request where he and the reader are in the "between lovers and friends stage" and they finally get together when he has her sleepover at his place after finding out her ex was loitering by her apartment?

I’m alive (mostly!) and I’m starting to go through the asks in my inbox again! Sorry to all y’all who have been waiting. I love you!😇😍

p.s. I’ve been obsessed with the song “Margaret” by LDR, which is where the title comes from

(oh also I barely responded to this prompt so that I could write this dumb fic that’s been on my brain forever. so. apologies for that too)

maybe tomorrow you’ll know

It goes like this: boy meets girl, they go to the same primary school, girl kicks around football with boy and sneaks into his room to hug him when his dad’s a prick, boy moves away to become a Premier League footballer and girl cries her heart out because they’re best friends.

Fucking typical.

And yet, he still picks up every phone call. Still answers every text you send. He’ll never say the word “love,” especially not when he’s with Keeley Jones and their faces are all over tabloids and instagram. But you’ll feel it in the way he’s a prick to everyone but you. It’s in the way his voice goes soft when you call him at 2am crying about being dumped by your first boyfriend.

He doesn’t visit, doesn’t phone his mum, but he’ll send you a quick voice message when he can. Usually not saying much, just a snip about training. First it’s all about Pep and the lads at Man City, then it’s about some gaffer named Cartrick and the fact that he’s teammates with Roy fucking Kent.

Jamie never tells you that Roy absolutely fucking hates him, but you know anyway.

Jamie also doesn’t call you when Keeley breaks up with him. In fact, you don’t even find out about it until pictures of Roy and Keeley surface online. You call him as soon as you can, and in typical Jamie fashion, he picks up on the second ring.

You don’t ask him about Keeley, just let him talk about football and the new manager from America, and the fact that maybe Richmond isn’t so bad and maybe he can let his armor down just a little bit.

He’s sent back to Manchester the next day.

The bonds of childhood friendship run strong, because he’s on your doorstep in no time at all, and though it’s been years since you’ve seen him in person, there’s a part of you that feels like he never left.

It never goes beyond friendship with you two. You don’t allow yourself to consider him in any other light because this friendship is special and important and neither of you will let anything ruin it.

It’s so strange sometimes to see him on tv or in an interview, eyes sharp and mouth full of barbs. Always on the offensive, always cutting others down before they have a chance to do the same to him. You have a hard time believing it’s the same boy who’s on your couch staring at the ceiling as he fiddles with the hem of his sweatshirt.

He’s never spoken that way to you, and you have a hard time believing he ever will.

So you feed him and make him smile and go to as many matches as you can (he leaves tickets on your kitchen table so you won’t protest) and give him a house key so he can come and go as he pleases.

But then he’s gone again, it’s the off-season and he’s on some tv show and you’re watching him flirt and seduce and pull at people’s heartstrings like they’re marionettes, and you realize (perhaps for the first time) how deep the damage has gone.

He gets absolutely shredded online, called all sorts of names by fans of the show and football alike, and you wonder if you’re the only one who can see what’s happening. That it’s all a show and that person, that Jamie Tartt on the screen is not the Jamie Tartt who used to throw pebbles at your window to come see if you wanted to ride bikes together.

It’s different than when he went to the Premier League. He doesn’t answer your texts.

It’s fine though, because your life doesn’t revolve around him. You have other, real friends and a boyfriend and a nice little flat and a good job. So he can go do what he wants and when he needs someone to pick up the pieces, you’ll go because you understand that sometimes this friendship is a one-way street.

You miss him, though.

You don’t watch his season of Lust Conquers All until your boyfriend calls you and says, “Hey, it’s been fun, but I’m just not feeling it anymore, thanks for understanding,” and then you binge every episode right up to the current one.

So now you don’t have a boyfriend. You’re glad it hadn’t gone too far, but his words still stung. But you drown your feelings in ice cream and shitty tv and it’s alright because another episode airs in an hour, so you can see more of Jamie and hope he’s doing okay.

He’s not. He gets voted off and you think that’s stupid but also maybe a little bit good.

—

Jamie just thinks it’s stupid. He’s kicked off his only lifeline, and then Man City flat-out refuses to take him back and he has to find out on live television for fuck’s sake. And then he has the brilliant idea to ask Ted Lasso to come back, because of course Ted will take him, what with his yeehaw can-do bullshit. Except Ted tells him no, and now he has nothing.

He’s cut out every friend, every family member and is resigned to life as a has-been before he’s even twenty-five years old.

Now, he’s at home with the blinds pulled. He’s not even sure what time it is anymore because it’s all meaningless, innit? So when there’s a knock at the door, he has to blink a couple times from his place on the couch before turning off FIFA and going to see who it could possibly be.

He hopes it’s you, even though he knows there’s no way. Not after he ghosted you for months. He ignores the uncomfortable flip-flop in his stomach at the thought of seeing you, and the way his heart beats a little faster when he thinks of holding you.

He won’t cross that line. Your friendship (if it still exists) is too important.

So he opens the door, ready to see who the fuck is bothering him.

It’s Ted.

Ted asks, “Can I come in?” but he’s obviously not going to accept no as an answer, so Jamie steps back to let him inside.

Ted’s just standing awkwardly in Jamie’s kitchen, not even pretending that he isn’t shocked by Jamie’s decor.

Jamie isn’t going to defend his choices to Ted of all people. Nor is he going to do anything to lessen his awkwardness. Finally, Ted clears his throat and says, “Well Jamie, it seems we need to revisit our last conversation.”

Jamie stares at him, refusing to speak until he’s sure what Ted is saying, so Ted continues.

“I think I was a little bit too hasty when I said you couldn’t come back to Richmond. I’ve been giving it some thought, and we’d love to have you back.”

Jamie looks at Ted, all rumpled in his sweatshirt and shorts, hair as undone as it’s ever been, and is supremely unsure of what he’s supposed to say.

Yeah, I’ll come back to Richmond.

Fuck off, you’re too late.

He’s saved from saying something stupid by the sound of the front door rattling as someone punches in the code.

“You expectin’ someone?” Ted asks.

Jamie shakes his head, equally puzzled. “No one has the code, except-”

The door is shoved open and you burst through in a flurry of motion. You call, “Jamie?” but you can already see him in the kitchen so you make a beeline to his location and launch yourself into his arms.

He’s solid as always, smelling like day-old Lynx. His arms are tight wrapped around you, body warm as you press your cheek against his.

He sets you down after a moment, and brushes away a stray strand of hair from your face.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks softly, still not quite letting you go. Ted notes that this is a new tone for Jamie. Or at least, the Jamie he’s interacted with. It’s not a performance, not something designed to make people love or hate him, it’s what Ted suspects is the most authentic version of Jamie. Whoever you are, you must be important.

“Wanted to make sure you were ok. I saw your interview.”

Jamie makes a face. “Fuck’s sake, has everyone seen that shit?”

You shrug. “Hard to miss it. Your mum sent it to me. She’s kind of why I’m here, actually.”

“You know Jamie’s mom?” Ted asks, surprised. It’s only then that you notice he’s in the room. Your face heats up because you wouldn’t have been that grabby with Jamie had you known he weren’t alone.

“Hi, I’m Ted,” he says reaching out to shake your hand, “Seems to me like you know this one from a while back.”

“Uh, yeah,” you reply. “Which is why I figured something was wrong when he ghosted me for fucking ever.”

Jamie winces and Ted takes his cue.

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” he says. He points a finger at Jamie. “You let me know what you decide, son.”

“It’s a yes, Coach,” Jamie calls as Ted heads out the door. You crane your neck in time to see Ted pump his fist in the air before the door shuts behind him.

“So,” you say, arms crossed, “you have a big fucking excuse for not answering my calls. But you better never fucking do it again, or I’m showing back up here with Georgie and she’ll kick your ass.”

Jamie grimaces. Sure, Georgie was never violent with him, but there’s something particularly terrifying about the way she says Jamie Tartt you have got some explaining to do, while her eyes do that thing where they flash and stare straight into his soul.

“Right, yeah, I’m really sorry,” he says and he’s lucky that his tone backs up his words because if he had one ounce of prick in his voice, you’d make him really sorry. I mean come on, who ignores their family?

The thought passes through your mind just long enough for it to freak you out before Jamie’s tentatively reaching out to hug you again.

You let him rest his head on your shoulder as you scratch his the back of his head.

—

You’ve been on Jamie’s couch for the better part of two hours, talking and letting him pretend like he’s not on the verge of tears because at least he’s being open and honest for once, when he shoots up and says, “Jesus Christ, fucking Kyle.”

He turns to you, eyes wide as he asks, “Isn’t he gonna wonder where you are? Shit, and you’re with me. He’s not gonna like that shit at all.”

You shrug infinitesimally while you examine a spot on the wall.

“We’re not together anymore,” you answer as casually as possible.

Jamie sighs and settles back onto the couch. “Shit. Glad you finally dumped that prick.”

You glare at him. “I didn’t. He dumped me. And then I found him lurking in my fucking bushes yesterday like a total creeper.”

Jamie’s up again off the couch, this time heading for his car keys as he yells, “For fuck’s sake, love, you should’ve called me.”

“I did!” you shout back. “I did, and you didn’t pick up, did you? Anyway, it’s probably not going to be an issue anymore.”

Jamie returns to the living room, face ashen. “Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit. I’m so sorry.”

You shrug and say, “It’s not a big deal. He decided that he liked certain body parts he owned more than he liked intimidating me.

Jamie grips his keys so hard that his knuckles turn white as he says, “Right, you’re sleeping over tonight because no one fucking treats my girl that way.”

Then he freezes.

You’re not frozen, because a single shiver has worked its way up your spine.

My girl.

It came out so naturally.

And it implied ownership? But of the mutual sort? And in a way that two best friends simply did notbelong together.

The entire house is so silent, you swear you can hear Jamie blink. Well, that is, if either of you actually moved a muscle as opposed to staring at each other across the room.

“What-” you start, but your throat is all weird and tight, so you clear it and try again. “What did you say?”

It still comes out much lower than you anticipated and Jamie has a split second to assess your body language and make a choice.

You’re fully angled toward him, eyes wide. You’re not giving him a look that says, shut the fuck up right now, Jamie Tartt, so he takes it as permission.

Permission to take one step closer, then another, then another until he’s standing right next to you. He slowly sinks down on the couch next to you as his says in a low, gravely voice, “I said, ‘no one fucking treats my girl that way.’”

Ah. So this is where over a decade of friendship has gotten you. On Jamie Tartt’s couch as your lips crash against his, both wondering why you hadn’t made a move sooner.

But it doesn’t matter, you’re here now and you’re sure you won’t waste a single second.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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nvuy · 4 days

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just thinking about argenti who has so much love to give to the whole universe, who is on a neverending journey of spreading the beauty across the cosmos faithfully, unwaveringly; argenti, who is never capable of receiving that kind of love back. because he cannot stop. because he cannot stray from the path of the aeon that hasn't answered to his prayers even once in his lifetime. because if he dares devote himself to anyone other than idrila, that person is going to have to wait for him all alone, thousands of light years away. lol

warnings for dark themes, angst, argenti backstory references so he’s insane and weird, and argenti literally murdering you, i guess.

i have this in my inbox as well. i liked the link, so now you WILL hear my thoughts.

i had so many thoughts for this prompt initially, but i just couldn’t string it into anything that was actually coherent.

somebody actually came into my inbox and said the interpretation of argenti’s story is wrong and i’m wrong and he didn’t actually kill his friends and SHUT UP i do what i want, and it’s just that: an interpretation. i like putting tragedy into my characters. it’s like adding salt to a bland meal.

anyway.

the worst part about this prompt, and yours, is in his inability to stop his pursuit of finding idrila, he meets you, and he does fall in love despite his promise to venture the stars alone on his journey.

argenti finds falling in love is beautiful at first. you’re supportive, even if he leaves you for extended voyages. he always brings back trinkets, gifts, leaves you one thousand messages a day that read more like love letters than normal texts, and the love he showers you in is endless.

you don’t doubt him for a second.

and then, things change. you tell him it’s difficult to love a person that’s gone for so long.

argenti does truly feel sorry, and he pities you, but this is who he is.

and you’re hurt. his devotion to idrila aside, you tell him that he’s crossed galaxies to find an aeon that does not care for him, nor the other fellow knights of beauty. they are not emanators bestowed with idrila’s power, nor has idrila been sighted by anyone for eons.

to you, it feels like he’s pining for someone else. you are in love with his undying loyalty, and his unshakeable faith. but, it hurts to be away from him for so long while he chases after a being well above you.

argenti cannot stray from the path he wanders. he insists he will do better, but when you thank him, and apologise because you feel selfish, he can’t help but notice your nails have grown to the size of curled claws.

the relationship grows worse from there. he slowly sees less of you, and more of something else. an otherworldly creature that morphs to the shape of you to keep him trapped here and away from his endeavours.

he finds himself growing to learn that the person, you, whom he’s loved with all his heart, was never a person, but a monster wearing your skin.

you break the relationship off some time later.

he finds himself relieved. not because you’re leaving—his heart shatters, actually—but because he knows, somewhere deep down in his stomach, if you stay any longer, he’ll hurt you.

argenti apologises, but you find he cannot look you in the eyes. so, you part ways. maybe you go back home, maybe you set up somewhere else by yourself. it hurts because you felt he was everything you’d ever wanted, and he was, but you know it’s better this way.

in the ideas i was writing for this prompt, i imagined you set up in belobog and work in that floral shop—i cannot remember if it has a name.

it’s been months, and you grow okay with yourself again, and everything is fine. you make bouquets, trim the stems of flowers as will, tend to the pots outside the shop, and all is well.

maybe argenti comes to the shop. he doesn’t know you work here, and he’s only come in because he’s stopped on belobog for his ship needs a repair and the red roses growing outside the window catch his eye. they’re just barely blooming, and spring looms just around the corner.

he doesn’t even realise the shop is open because it looks dark through the glass.

curiously, he opens the door to the shop, and the bell above the door tolls. a cute little shop, and bright colours encircle the walls. daisies, frangipanis, dahlias, petunias, he knows them all from your incessant ramblings when you would walk through gardens together, and he would hold onto every word.

you bound from the back room after hearing the bell, and you both just freeze up. you’re in shock he’s here—but why wouldn’t he be here? he travels planet to planet in search of his aeon—and he only sees something grotesque, and ugly, and a mockery of you. this isn’t you. it’s a mimicry. blasphemy of righteousness, of pure beauty, of one of idrila’s very creations they pulled from their gentle heart and offered to him so graciously.

he knows deep down he’s wrong. he knows, he knows, he trusts himself he knows, but he can’t win over his twitching fingers.

you greet him softly, gently pushing the work in progress bouquet and the garden pliers to the side of the front desk. there’s a multitude of thorns on the bench, and the roses in the bouquet, not yet bloomed, are picked free of their thorns.

there’s only one in the bouquet, one red shimmering rose, that has fully opened its petals.

“haven’t seen you in a while,” you say to him. there’s a hint of that customer service-y tone; because he’s not your lover anymore. “how are you?”

argenti swallows. “just the same.” he turns to the flowers on the wall. “you have a beautiful shop.”

“thanks.” you glance down at the bouquet on the bench. “did the roses outside catch your eye?”

you hear him laugh merrily. “you know me too well.” his fingers graze along the petals of a large assortment of pink amaryllis hanging over a plantar pot. he cannot look at you. he cannot, he cannot, he cannot–

“hey.”

and there’s that tone that twists his stomach. he wants to look, he wants to see you, you, and not that hideous beast that resides beneath your skin.

he feels you stop just beside him. he dares to glance.

amidst your claws and the veiny lines of your once soft and delicate hands that he always would press his lips to the back of, was a single red rose that you twirled between your fingers.

you hand it to him gently. “this one’s special.” when argenti did not move to take it, you tuck it securely behind his ear, indulging in how soft his hair was along your skin. “it’s stayed alive for a lot longer than i thought. it’s been around for about two years now, give or take.” you step back. “it reminded of you.”

and it did. undying strength, and despite all odds of belobog’s weather being unfit for roses, as all of the others had wilted over time, this particular one had stayed.

“i know things didnt end well, but…” you glance out the window. “but, you’re always welcome back here.” and, you still love him. you omit that part. “i’m sorry for whatever happened, or if i wasn’t good enough, or if there was somebody else–”

even now, he laughs. it’s weak. “there was nobody else.”

you nod once. “well. still. i’m sorry.”

argenti knew it had been all his fault, but you, ever gracious and kind as you were, felt burden on your shoulders.

his hand draws back from the amaryllis to graze over the rose behind his ear. the petals were fresh, a light smell of dewdrops in the morning on this cold planet.

he wishes now, he never turned to look at you. he wished he had just spun on his heel and left the shop, and never returned to you. you didn’t deserve this; you had always been so kind, so careful, so gentle with him.

but he did turn, because he had fooled himself into thinking it was truly you standing there, and not some masked fool, or a hideous shapeshifter that was showing its true colours. he sees those claws again, and pulled aged skin that reminds him of trees as old as time, horrible teeth, twisted limbs that crack and bend—

to make matters worse, you notice his distress, and as you always did when you were together, you pull him gently towards you and wrap your arms around him.

argenti, mistakenly, returns the warm embrace, and unbeknownst to you, one of his hands brushes against the garden shears you’d left on the desk next to the bouquet.

he thinks against it for a moment when he hears you apologise for what he had done wrong, and bury your face in the plated shoulder of his silver armour.

despite how he holds the writhing creature in his arms, he knows it’s you. and it is you, but he doesn’t see you, nor does he see any semblance of you left when he turns his head to stare out of the window. he catches a reflection of the creature twitching.

he murmurs an apology as well.

and then, he drives the shears into a particular spot in your spine. you gasp, and you become dead weight in his arms as the feeling of your legs fall away.

cold snaps up your chest and you cry out in pain. it’s just pain, and pain, and pain as hot blood dribbles from your neck.

and then there’s nothing. there’s no feeling. you can’t even breathe. your arms and legs feel as though they’ve just disappeared, and just as he hoped, you don’t feel his spear drive directly through your chest.

he kills you then, as quickly as he can, because as the monster cries and screams, he still knows it’s you in his arms, and he wouldn’t live with himself if you suffered in your final moments.

he sees you, finally, when he lays you down gently on the floor. he tries his best to clean you of the tear stains, and the blood smears that had crept around the front of your neck. you’re still beautiful, even in death, but he finds it impossible to leave the rose you’d gifted him.

so, he takes it—and that rose probably becomes the rose he carries in all his little animations in game. he traverses with guilt, and it’s probably a little wink nudge nudge to you when he says he owes his next battle to ‘a solitary rose.’

#✦ ( love mail. )#✦ ( memory-mortis. )#✦ ( anon. )#argenti x reader #argent x you #hsr x reader

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aquagirl1978 · 11 days

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Hiiii, Aqua! How are you? :3

I'd like to request some Roger, pretty please! Something cute and fluffy, like our former doctor taking care of a sick reader hihi

Please and thank you 🤍

Hi Nati - so nice to see you in my inbox! Here's a lil fluffy Roger - just what the doctor ordered. I cannot tell you how difficult it is to write fluff for this guy.

Remedy - Roger

A/N: Part of my Naughty or Nice event. Pairing: Roger Barrel x Reader Prompt: Suitor taking care of a sick reader Word Count: 551 Tags: fluff

Standing on tiptoes, you silently wished you were a few inches taller as you reached futilely for the canister of tea.

“Need some help?” a deep voice asked.

You spun around and found Roger near the doorway, the absolute last person you wanted to see in this state – hair a mess, nose red from sneezing, eyes surely puffy.

But it’s okay, you only had a mild crush on this man.

Without waiting for an answer, Roger walked over towards you. His body behind you, he easily reached the cabinet and grabbed the container of tea.

You tilted your face towards his, your body still somewhat caged in his arms, and peered at him from the corner of your eye. “How did you know I wanted tea?”

He smiled; his arm dropped to his side, the canister still in his hand, and tapped his ear with his other hand. “Excellent hearing,” he said with a wink. “You were mumbling that you needed a cup of tea.”

Warmth rushed to your cheeks, wondering how many other things he had heard you muttering under your breath, while also thankful his power didn’t extend to reading minds.

Or at least you hoped that it didn’t.

“What are you doing?” you asked when Roger turned and walked away from you.

“I’m making tea,” he said as he filled the kettle with water.

“You really don’t need to do that. I can do that myself.”

Roger stared at you, and as if on cue, you sneezed. Loudly.

“Not in that state you’re not.” He then opened the cabinet and took out two teacups, immediately silencing any protests you might have had.

You couldn’t help but watch him set the teacups on saucers, noticing how tiny the teacups were in his large hands. Your mind began to drift, your gaze lingering on his large hands that were attached to strong forearms; with his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, his arms were just begging to be admired.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked. His voice was soft, gentle in a way you never heard him speak before. You liked it, and knew instantly you wanted to hear his voice soft like this again. And again and again.

“Huh?” you mumbled, realizing the specific words he said did not register in your head.

Too busy feeling embarrassed, you hardly noticed Roger crossing the room to where you stood. It wasn’t until he pressed the back of his hand against your forehead that you were aware of his proximity. Staring straight at his chest, your face flushed with warmth just from him standing so close to you.

He soon removed his hand from your forehead, much to your disappointment. “You feel a bit warm,” he said in that soft, gentle tone from before. “It could just be a cold, but after you finish this tea, it’s best you head back to your room to get some rest. But in the meantime…”

He bowed his head and brushed a featherlight kiss upon the crown of your head. Feeling dizzy, you pressed your palm against his chest to steady yourself. Covering your shoulders with his hands, he lowered his bespectacled gaze to meet yours, and uttered a few quick words that ended up having quite the opposite effect.

“Doctor’s remedy, little lady.”

Tagging: @redheadkittys @themiscarnival @cyberk1ee @kookie-my-little-sunshine @coral-relevium

@pathogenic @ellisgivesmelife013 @ikemen-writer @nightghoul381 @judejazza

@xbalayage @xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia @ranhanabi777

@silver-dahlia @lunaaka @ikesenwritings @sh0jun @kalims-pessimist-bestie

#naughty or nice #ikemen series #ikemen villains #ikevil #roger barrel #ikevil roger #ikemen fanfic #ikevil fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic

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mistydeyes · 1 year

Text

𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽!

click me for asks + requests :)

2k celebration! submit an au/prompt from the list now until halloween :)

requests: open! i am in uni tho so it takes me about 1-2 weeks to answer!

pairings status: closed atm!

rules for requests - i love when you send things 💌

note - message me or comment on any one of my works if you want to be added to a tag list :)

I usually post on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays

izzie's fic recommendations - updated daily!

some things about me :)

the basics: 21, she/her, from the us :)

i'm a second year pharmacy student! also minoring in justice, law, and society

along with writing, i also intern at a perfume company and work at as a pharmacy intern

so naturally my pharmacist series is my absolute favorite to write and research!

𝓶𝔀𝓲𝓲 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 - the full masterlist

don't know where to start? here's a few readers' favorites :) ❤️ - izzie’s favorites

💌 if you want to peek at all of my writings

S E R I E S

"your prescription is ready for pick-up" - 141 x pharmacist!reader

all of my works and our pharmacist reader

a panacea❤️ - 141 meets the cure to all their ailments

sick day visit - you prided yourself on never getting sick but the day has finally come. as you’re resting in your quarters, a certain group pays you a visit :)

fake hypochondriac ghost x reader (sequel to “a panacea”) - ghost goes to extreme lengths to see his favorite pharmacist

pain-killer fueled thoughts price x reader (sequel to “a panacea”) - price landed himself in the medic tent and his pain killers are making him tell the pharmacist his feelings.

keep your weapons hot and bodies hotter (18+) - stripper!141 x fem!reader (codename: Phoenix)❤️

hunk-o-mania 141 edition - feast your eyes on Delilah's Den's newest male dancers

playboy bunny phoenix edition - an unforeseen guest complicates the mission, now you have to get ready to act as the distraction on stage

the joys of civilian life - 141 x civilian!fem!reader

opposite occupations - while on leave, the boys each meet a civilian that makes their time deployed and defending their country worth it

family moments - 141 x fem!reader

little moments and little voices - precious moments you spend in your home with your husband and children :)

oh, darling, don’t you ever grow up - your husband leaves this world too early and now you have to pick up the pieces with your children

secrets and pointed fingers (requested!)❤️ - simon "ghost" riley

behind locked doors - when the 141 thinks you're the mole, they make sure to extract the information in whatever way possible

empty apologies and avoiding glances - when you return back to base, everything is far from normal

half empty glasses and unchanging perspectives - you try to run away from the trauma at the pub but with a glass in hand, simon finds you

O N E - S H O T S

odd hobbies - 141 x reader everyone has their own hobbies, yours are just unique to 141’s perspective

butterfly effect - 141 x fem!reader they say "a butterfly flaps its wings in the amazonian jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of europe." what once was a silly quote now has implications as one action leads to your death.

opposite of a meet cute❤️ - 141 x civilian!reader most people have a cute story as to how they met their significant other but yours is a little more eccentric

V I S U A L S + R A N D O M

random things in pockets and bags❤️ SERIES - what does the 141 carry on them when they’re on leave?

pt i- kyle “gaz” garrick

pt ii - simon "ghost" riley

pt iii - johnny "soap" mactavish

pt iv - john price

E X P L A I N S my series of explaining the various timeline's of the games and characters

simon "ghost" riley's backstory

which modern warfare game should i play first?

some writings from the inbox

medication mixup - the medic unknowingly prescribing you a penicillin has disastrous results due to your allergy

141’s dossier - see what the dossiers laswell gets at the end of mw 2019 looks like! + template

ghost’s doppelgänger - how does the 141 and los vaqueros react to you joining the team? their reactions are even better when you share an uncanny resemblance with ghost

running mascara - 141 x fem!reader harsh words are said and you try your best to run away from the cause. however, everyone needs to face the issue eventually and now the 141 is left to pick up the pieces. initially part of my 1k celebration but i added a sequel as it was highly requested! PART I and PART II

mw2 x reader - my ongoing series of pairing y'all up and writing a short lil blurb about how you met and your relationship

izzie’s 1K celebration! - closed now :) but feel free to look and see some of the prompts + how i answered them

𝓪𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼

#tag list #masterlist

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shiny-jr · 1 year

Note

DAMNNN, congratulations on 5k followers!! You FULLY deserve it, your work is ABSOLUTELY AMAZING!! (≧▽≦)

I was thinking for your event, FEAR - "I don't scare you, do I..?" with Riddle Rosehearts would work so well! I'm obsessed with how you write him!

Have a great day!! ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

– Prompt: Fear. "I don't scare you, do I...?"

– Character: Riddle Rosehearts.

– Note: First prompt in a week. Sorry, guys. The reason I got so many out last time was because I knew this would happen, I knew I would get busy and distracted. But don't worry. I still have over 60 in the inbox right now. That'll be enough to last for a while. I just wanted to answer at least one right now. But I'll be honest, I think I may want to work on the damnation project right now so I'll try to write for that before I'm off to bed. Also, I took some creative liberties here and based this prompt kind of off the damnation au. So yeah.

Red. Red was the royal’s favorite color. It was everywhere. On the roses, on the walls, on the strawberry tarts, even most of the soldiers he commanded wore armor that shined like crimson rubies. Riddle’s robes were red, his crown had red, his axe was red, even his hair was red. As if that wasn’t enough, it wasn’t unusual to see him with a splash of red across his flesh, and you were certain it wasn’t some red beverage.

“My dear, is something the matter? You look awfully pale.” You avoided his gaze, staring at the ground so you wouldn’t see the red on his hands. The same hands that wielded his oversized battle axe, the same hands that just executed the protagonist. You sat rigidly as Riddle carefully approached you, dropping his axe before wiping his hands clean. His voice was soft, quiet, unlike earlier when he was proclaiming a raving speech in front of the onlookers at the public execution you were forced to attend as the royal’s consort. “You’re not frightened of me, are you? You do realize that I would never lift my weapon against you, don’t you? As much as I loathe to admit it, you’re my weakness. All you have to do is blink your pretty little eyes at me and I’ll melt. Because, whether you like it or not, you had willingly chosen to take the place of my partner, and now you have to stay here to finish what you started.”

#yandere #twisted wonderland #twst #twst writing #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #yandere riddle rosehearts

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willalove75 · 1 year

Note

Nsfw prompt w/ established fem!reader x rebecca. Reader shyly asks rebecca to wear a strap in bed and at first rebecca thinks its not her thing but she'll try it out for you but then she realizes what an absolute wreck she makes you and quickly becomes obsessed with fucking you with it even going far as to wearing one to work

The way I've been very impatiently waiting to write this since the second I saw it in my inbox hahahahah

I fucking love this, lets do it!

This is just pure, filthy, smutty smut

Collapsing back onto the bed you try and catch your breath as aftershocks course through your body. When you're finally able to open your eyes again you see Rebecca sitting between your legs with a smirk on her face, her fingers gently gliding across your thighs. She looks down at you, proud of herself for being able to turn you into such a mess over and over again.

"Tapping out?" She asks with a cocked eyebrow, knowing what your answer would be.

"What gave it away?" You reply with a laugh as another chill runs down your spine.

"Just a hunch." She lays down next to you and wraps her arms around you, pulling you close.

The warmth of her body relaxes you and you let out a hum, nuzzling your head into her neck. Rebecca runs her fingers through your hair, leaving gentle kisses on your head.

It never ceases to surprise you how easily she can make you come undone. The chemistry between the two of you alone makes your head spin, but the way she knows every inch of your body? The way she knows exactly what makes you tick and squirm? It drives you wild in the best ways possible. Sex with her is the best you've ever had in your life.

There was always one thing you've wanted to try but have been too shy to ask, but after the way she dominated you tonight, shyness be damned, you can't wait anymore.

Tracing patterns across her chest with your fingers you finally find the courage to ask.

"Has there ever been something you've wanted to try but haven't brought up?"

Rebecca pauses and thinks for a moment. "No, I don't think so, why love? Is there something on your mind?"

"Well, kind of. I don't know, it's kind of dumb," the shyness taking over once more. "actually, never mind, forget I said anything."

"No, no." She says, adjusting in bed to look at you. "Tell me, if there's something you want to try I want to know what it is sweetheart."

Focusing on your fingers as they continue to trace shapes and patterns on her chest you work up the courage to finally ask.

"Well, I've kind of wanted to try you using a strap, on me." You shyly admit. Looking up at Rebecca you see a little surprise and uncertainty on her face.

"Really?" She asks.

"Yeah, but, I mean, we don't have to if you don't want to, I know it's probably not your thing, so it's okay if you don't want to or something."

Rebecca looks down at you with endearment in her eyes.

"I can't promise it'll be something I'll love, but we can definitely try it."

"Really?"

"Absolutely honey. Do you want me to order one? I have no idea what kind to order though." She says, grabbing her phone off of the nightstand.

Taking her phone from her you pull up a few options you've looked at in the past that you'd want to try.

"Any one of these should be fine." You say with a small smile.

"You are just full of surprises tonight my love." Rebecca says, kissing you on the forehead, you giggle in response.

The two of you look through the options and settle on a purple one, it's a little bigger than the others, but the size of it excites you more than scares you. Rebecca places the order and returns her phone to the nightstand. She wraps her arms around you once more and pulls you into her.

"Thank you baby." You quietly say.

"Of course honey. I want you to always be comfortable talking to me, about anything. Okay?"

Looking into her bright green eyes, you get lost for a moment before nodding your head. Rebecca brings her lips to yours and you smile as she gently kisses you.

A few days later you both come home from work to find a package at the front door. Excited, you take it inside and open it. A knot forms in your belly as you examine the strap with Rebecca; she looks unsure, but not unwilling. You both agree that you should have dinner before running straight into the bedroom. After you finish eating and cleaning up, you lead Rebecca upstairs.

Rebecca stands behind you and slowly unzips your dress. Her lips meet your neck as she pulls the zipper down and she kisses down your back. As she pulls your dress to the floor she unhooks your bra and pulls your lacy thong to your ankles. You kick your thong off and turn to face her, she pulls your lips into hers and you pull her button down shirt out of her skirt and begin unbuttoning it. Kissing down her chest, you pull the shirt off of her after undoing the last button. You unclip her bra and toss it away, kissing between her breasts and down her belly. After fumbling with the zipper on the side of her skirt for a moment, you slide it down her hips, taking her thong with it, down her legs, and onto the floor.

Kneeling in front of Rebecca, you look up at her as you run your hands up and down her thighs. She spreads her legs and lowers her heat onto your mouth, which you gladly accept. Rebecca throws her head back and lets out a moan when your tongue makes contact with her dripping center. Running your tongue up and down her slit you collect all of her juices into your mouth. Her knees buckle and she moans, grabbing onto your head when you suck and flick your tongue over her clit. You continue to work your tongue up and down her slit, sucking and pressing your tongue flat against her clit every time you pass over it. Her legs begin to gently shake, letting you know she's getting close. Bringing your fingers to her dripping center, you coat them in her juices before sliding two fingers into her, curling them deep inside while latching onto her clit and sucking on it.

Rebecca cries out in pleasure and grinds down onto you. You begin to work your fingers in and out of her as you keep her bundle of nerves stimulated. Looking up, her head is thrown back but you can see the blush across her chest, her legs shake more as you pick up the pace and thrust into her a little harder.

"Just like that baby, I'm so close, don't stop- fuck! Fuck!" She screams and her body shakes over you while she cums. You can feel her dripping down your arm but you keep your pace, making her ride out her orgasm until she pulls away.

Rebecca stumbles towards the bed and puts her hands on the mattress to stabilize herself as she pants. Looking back at you, her pupils dilate while she watches you stick your fingers in your mouth, lapping up every drop of her left on you.

"Help me get into this thing." She says, holding up the harness. She gives it to you and you help her step into it and tighten it around her hips.

"How does it feel?" You ask, making sure it's not too tight or too loose.

"It feels weird." She says, swinging the dildo back and fourth.

You start laughing as you watch her. "I meant the harness babe."

"I think it's fine, now come, lay down."

Crawling onto the bed, you roll onto your back and Rebecca positions herself between your legs, lubing up the toy. She cups your center, wiping the extra lube onto you and slides two fingers into you.

"Oh fuck." You moan, your eyes rolling back.

Rebecca giggles and removes her fingers from you. Holding onto your hips, she lines the toy up with your dripping slit and looks up at you.

"You okay?" She asks.

"Mhm." You hum, nodding your head.

Parting your lips, she slowly slips the toy into you, immediately bottoming you out.

"Oh FUCK!" You cry as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your back arches off of the bed. Between the strap stretching out the entrance of your pussy to the sensation of the head of the toy buried deep inside of you, your head spins from the pleasure.

Rebecca slowly pulls the toy out and slides it back in all the way, hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars.

"How does that feel baby?" She asks, slowly thrusting in and out of you as she finds her rhythm.

"It's so good." You whimper, white-knuckling the sheets.

Finding her rhythm, Rebecca begins to thrust in and out of you as a string of moans and curses fall from your lips.

Watching you as you squirm under her, Rebecca is a little surprised at how much she's enjoying this and picks up her pace.

"Oh fuck baby, fuck it's so good." You cry as she fucks you a little harder.

"You're taking it so good, you're such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this."

"Please, oh fuck, please, you're gonna make me- FUCK!" You scream as she thrusts hard and deep into you, bottoming you out again.

"You want me to make you cum?"

"Please baby, please." You beg as she fucks you harder.

Rebecca picks your legs up and bends them back so your knees are almost next to your ears allowing her to push deeper into you. She thrusts into you a few more times before slamming into you, giving you every inch of the toy. You can feel her hips against you when she grinds the toy deep into you, making you scream in pleasure.

"Fuck, Rebecca yes! You're gonna make me fucking cum, fuck me, please, oh fuck please!"

You hear the wetness of the toy while it slides out and is slammed back into you over and over as Rebecca bottoms you out with each thrust as you scream, your orgasm building rapidly.

She quickens her pace when she feels your body begin to shake under her, she wants to make you cum, hard. With each thrust you get closer and closer to the edge, climbing higher and higher every second.

She grinds into that spot once more, bringing you right to the edge.

"I'm gonna cum, don't stop, don't fucking stop!" You scream.

Thrusting hard into the spot again and then grinding into it, Rebecca is feral, you see stars and cry out for her.

"Good girl, cum for me baby." Rebecca says as she guides you through your orgasm.

She relentlessly fucks you as your body convulses under her. She eventually slows down, gently sliding the strap in and out of you as you come down from your high before finally pulling out.

Rebecca takes off the harness and tosses it onto the floor. She crawls up next to you, pulling your still twitching body into her.

"Oh my god, holy shit Rebecca." You pant as the aftershocks rock your body.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it so much." She says, gently kissing you.

"Did you like it?"

Looking into her eyes, you realize her pupils are blown and her eyes are filled with lust.

"I loved it."

For the next few weeks, you two almost exclusively use the strap, usually at Rebecca's request. Rebecca let you use it on her a few times but she got more pleasure from fucking you senseless with it than when you used it on her. It wasn't always rough, but you both preferred it that way truthfully.

As you're at your desk, consumed by your latest task, you realize it's been an unusually slow, quiet day. Which you weren't complaining about. The boys were on the bus to an away game, you and Rebecca were flying out to meet them the next day. It's not often you get laid back days like these, but you enjoyed them when they came around.

A ding echoes through your office, looking up you see a message from Rebecca.

"Come see me in my office. Now."

A nervous knot forms in your belly, that doesn't sound good. Making your way to her office, you try and think of all of the reasons why she could be mad at you. Did you mess something up? Did you do something at home? Your anxiety comes to a head when you reach her office door.

You knock on the door and you hear her on the other side.

"Come in."

Opening the door, you step into her office and look at her sitting at her desk. Rebecca notices the worry on your face and gently smiles at you.

"Come in love, lock the door please."

Confused, you lock the door and walk towards her desk, she gets up and meets you halfway across the office and pulls you into a hug and kisses you. Your body instantly relaxes when her warm lips meet yours. Rebecca notices your body relax in your arms and looks at you.

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean what's wrong? That message made it sound like I was in trouble!" You say.

"Oh I'm sorry love," she says, laughing. "I just didn't want you to dawdle making your way over here."

"You scared the shit out of me." You say, holding her tight.

Rebecca cups your face in her hands and looks into your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!"

Your hands rest on her hips and you feel something under her flowy dress and pull back, looking at her.

"What the fuck?" You say to yourself as you feel around her hips, your eyes widening when you realize she's wearing the harness. "What the fuck." Your eyes go wide, staring at her.

Rebecca has a devilish grin on her face and pull you in for a deep kiss.

"The reason I asked you to come into my office," she says between kisses. "was because I needed your assistance with something."

Smirking into the kiss, you ask "And what do you need my assistance with?"

Pulling away, Rebecca grabs your hand and leads you into the ensuite in her office and locks the door behind her. Hiking up her dress, she places the fake appendage into its holster and bends you over the countertop.

"Babe, are you sure that we should-"

Rebecca unbuttons and rips your pants and underwear down. Leaning over you, she whispers into your ear.

"Hush love, just stay quiet." She reaches over and grabs a pillow sitting on the countertop and hands it to you, she must have taken it from the couch in her office before you got there.

Already dripping, Rebecca rubs the strap against you, making it slick and slides it effortlessly into you. Burying your face into the pillow, you groan as you feel her stretch you out.

Rebecca starts out slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch before pounding into you. You bite down into the pillow so hard you're worried you're going to rip it.

"Fuck!" You cry into the pillow.

She digs her nails into your hips when she grabs them tighter, thrusting into you, hard. Your moans turn into cries of pleasure when she bottoms you out, thrusting into you deep and hard.

"Oh fuck Rebecca!" You say, your voice mostly muffled.

"You're such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you in the office. My little office whore."

"Uh-huh." You moan, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Rebecca's hand leaves your hip and you feel her grab your hair and pull back, making your back arch. A moan escapes into the air before you're able to bring the pillow back to your face.

"You better not let anyone hear you love, or there will be consequences."

She thrusts deep into you and grinds the strap into that spot, making your body shudder.

"Fuck, right there, please, right there."

You hear Rebecca grunt as she thrusts harder into the spot and your legs begin to shake.

"I'm so close, fuck me baby, please."

"You want me to make you cum all over yourself?" She teases.

"Yes, fuck, please."

Rebecca seems to take that as a challenge because she picks up the pace even further and fucks you fast and hard. The orgasm you had building suddenly explodes, hitting you like a tidal wave. Rebecca lets go of your hair and you collapse back down onto the pillow, screaming in pleasure as you cum.

She slows her pace and you let out a little whine as she pulls out. Winded, Rebecca looks at you with pride on her face, bent over her office bathroom counter, blissed out with cum dripping down your legs. Removing the harness, she places it on the counter next to you.

After you're able to compose yourself a little you finally stand up and turn towards Rebecca. She passionately kisses you and pulls you into her so your head is resting in the crook of her neck.

"I'm sure that's the last thing you expected when you saw my message earlier." She says, rubbing small circles on your back.

"Uh, yeah. Definitely." You say with a laugh.

Rebecca kisses you once more before pulling away and grabbing a bag on the chair in the corner of the bathroom. She pulls out a hand towel and runs it under warm water and begins to wipe your legs clean.

"So this was a premeditated event?" You say, cocking an eyebrow at her.

She places a light kiss on your lips.

"I couldn't let the love of my life go back to work covered in cum, after I absolutely wrecked her in my office bathroom, could I?"

"Rebecca Welton, you are something else." You say with a chuckle.

"I'm your something else." She says, pulling you in for a kiss.

"And I'm yours." You say.

#rebecca welton x reader #hannah waddingham #willalove75 #rebecca welton #rebecca welton fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #wlw fanfic

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