“Your husband is acting a little strange”
Part 2 - Masterlist - Ko-Fi
Warnings: PinV, semi public sex
Obs: Here we will pretend that t1000 took the form of your police officer husband, as soon as he arrived from the future. This is kind of alternative, as if the t1000 had completed his mission and was just out there without a main objective
“But there’s no way he could travel through time without”— shut up
It's not supposed to make sense, I was just horny for this man, it's sad that no one writes anything
Robert Patrick was really something
You had no idea what was coming that afternoon.
Like so many other times, you stopped by your husband's favorite restaurant and picked up his lunch. It was an old, almost romantic routine, a break from the chaos of police life.
You liked taking care of him. You liked seeing him smile when he saw you arrive, sometimes putting down his papers, other times simply looking at you with that tiredness on his face but tenderness in his eyes.
But today… everything was wrong.
As you entered the police station, no one seemed particularly surprised by your arrival. You were already known there. You greeted his colleagues, made a few jokes with those closest to you, and were soon directed to where he was.
Standing alone, he stared out the glass window with his arms behind his back. He didn't turn around immediately when you called out.
"Honey…" you called hesitantly, setting the bag of food on the table. "I brought your lunch."
He finally turned around, and you stopped for a second.
It was him. Same uniform, same face, same haircut… but there was something. A hollowness in his gaze. A hardness.
Your husband's warmth seemed to be missing. The way he looked at you… without surprise, without affection, without any trace of the longing he usually showed. It was as if he were watching you, not seeing you.
"Thank you" he said, his voice as usual but without emotion.
You smiled awkwardly, trying to hide the twinge of strangeness you felt.
"Is everything okay? You seem a little… distant today."
That answer also sounded wrong. Cold, mechanical. He blinked, yes. He breathed, yes. But there was no soul behind those gestures. And you began to feel a shiver down your spine.
That's when you approached him, touching the front of his uniform with your fingertips.
Physical contact always broke the ice between you. He was reserved, but he melted at your touch.
He used to smile with a kiss on the neck, react with a sigh when you hugged him from behind. Today, however, nothing. He just looked at you. Without moving a muscle.
You swallowed. You were worried. Or hurt.
Because somehow… all that coldness had awakened a side of you that you didn't quite understand. A desire to taste him. To see him react.
"You know…" you whispered, leaning closer to his ear "is the back room still empty?"
He didn't answer, just stared at you as if calculating something.
You bit your lip. That wasn't a no.
It was like flirting with a stranger. As if this man had your husband's face, but something more… dark, mysterious. The air seemed heavier around him.
When you reached the living room, you locked the door and turned your back, leaning against it.
"I'm worried about you," you murmured. "But... I'm also dying to."
He just watched, motionless. His chest rose and fell slowly.
No initiative, he just stared at you.
You took a step forward, reached for his belt, and began to unbuckle it. Your hands were shaking, but not from fear. From excitement. It was strange, but you couldn't stop.
"Let me take care of you for a bit, okay?"
He didn't react, but he didn't stop you either.
You unbuckled the buckle and pulled his pants down to his hips, staring at that hardness... He was hard.
His cock throbbed beneath the fabric of his underwear, and that alone made you wet. As if, despite the coldness, his body responded instinctively. By some kind of unconscious programming that sought warmth.
You dropped to your knees in front of him. You looked up. His gaze didn't change. But his cock throbbed, steady, almost as if screaming for attention. You slowly lowered his underwear and began to caress him with your fingers, then with your mouth, tasting him.
He moaned. Low. Guttural.
You felt his hands in your hair. They didn't pull. They just rested there, as if trying to figure out what to do with it. As if his muscle memory reacted before any thought. And you went deeper. Slowly. Exploring. Teasing.
"Do you like this?" you asked huskily.
"Yes" he replied, his tone seemingly learned.
You paused for a second, staring at his face.
"You look so different today."
He tilted his head, as if studying your reaction. As if he were... taking it all in. Your voice. Your breath. The sparkle in your eyes. The way your hands slid down his legs and back up to the waistband.
You stood up, your body warm and your panties wet. You turned your back, rested your hands on the table behind you and lifted the skirt.
He approached almost silently, like a ghost. He held your waist and entered you slowly, unhurriedly. As if he were... processing the experience.
You moaned loudly. You felt his body press against your back. His uniform brushed against your skin.
Heat spread between your thighs.
"Oh my- that's it..." you gasped. "Just like that."
His movements were rhythmic. Precise. Almost like a machine. But there was something more.
A hesitation at times. As if he were feeling everything for the first time. As if he were adapting to your sounds, to the way your body reacted.
And suddenly, he sped up. His thrusts became harder, more urgent. His body slammed against yours hard, as if the heat was consuming his system.
As if something was breaking inside him—a logic, a block, a code.
You moaned, feeling whole, completely filled.
His hands tightened around your waist, then your stomach, moving up to your breasts. His head rested on your neck, his chest pressed against your back.
"You're shaking" he murmured, almost like a scientific observation.
You turned around, panting, your skin flushed and your eyes filled with desire.
He stared at you for a long second. Then he touched your face with his fingertips, as if exploring its texture.
Your warmth, the dampness of your skin, the dilation of your pupils.
You smiled, still not understanding what was really happening.
He smiled back. Small, almost imperceptible.
But there was something there, like a strange glint in his eyes.
You laughed, thinking it was just his weird way of saying he still loved you. But you didn't realize those words were more literal than poetic.
There, in that moment, the T-1000 understood for the first time what human warmth was. And without knowing it, you had just become his first emotional link to the world.
That’s it, english is not my language and I just wanted to share my desire for the t1000
