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faveficarchive · 1 year

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AND STILL SHE FOLLOWS

by Cousin Liz

1997 Nov 16

Disclaimers: The characters of Xena: Warrior Princess are owned by MCA Pictures and used here without permission. No copyright infringement was intended in the writing of this story.

There are displays of graphic sex between consenting adults, as well as a non-consensual sex scene. Violence... this story deals with the aftereffects of war. If this type of story offends you, or you are not old enough to read it, please stop reading now.

I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 1

'After only a short time, I no longer noticed the stench of the dead or the dying. It has been what, four, maybe five days since I entered the battle? I'm really not sure. Now all I can smell is victory... and it smells so sweet. Funny how victory smells so much like death and dying.'

Xena had hoped that she would be able to put a stop to the warfare before it had a chance to begin. Her old friend King Evander had called on her for help, but she and Gabrielle arrived at the outskirts of his kingdom too late. Both sides in this civil land dispute were well entrenched and the battle had already been raging for nearly two days. King Than, with the help of the ruthless warlord Kragon, was determined to wrestle the land at the Northern border of King Evander's kingdom away from him. This narrow strip of land was the only viable passage through the mountains to the Aegean sea, and was a heavily traveled trade route.

King Evander's monarchy, which had had possession of this land for eight generations, always allowed free access through the pass. King Than saw the pass as a highly profitable money-making venture. His plans were to seize the land and charge exorbitant fees for the privilege of crossing rights. For this, the two kingdoms had gone to war. Kragon, smelling profit, had been willing to sacrifice his men for victory, and soon neither side were taking prisoners. Xena soon found herself doing whatever was necessary to win the battle, and the warrior's sword ran red with the blood of countless.

Xena reveled in the victory. The war was over, yet her body cried out for more. She had forgotten how alive she could feel when she was closest to death. And Xena was surrounded by it. Her nerve endings tingled as her blood pumped fiercely through her body. She was alive! But she knew she had Gabrielle to thank for her forgetfulness. For the last two years, and especially the past few months, the love that Gabrielle had shown her had awoken feelings of hope and a renewed sense of life she had thought were long lost. With Gabrielle at her side, Xena felt she just might actually have a chance at life. For now, she concentrated on the warmth she felt when thinking about her bard, and tried to quell the carnal thoughts that were threatening to surface.

The warrior pushed her dirt-matted mane of black hair from her eyes and surveyed the carnage. Kragon's army was good -- very good. But he never stood a chance against a warrior determined to protect innocent people *and* her bard. Wiping the blood and gore from her blade on one of the nameless bodies at her feet, Xena walked from the battlefield in search of Gabrielle.

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Gabrielle. She had managed to saddle Argo and lead her down to the edge of the battlefield near a small stream to wait for Xena. The bard wanted to be away from the carnage as quickly as possible. The last four days had been a nightmare. Blood was everywhere, and the bodies never seemed to stop streaming in. Each time the tent flap flew open with another body on a stretcher, Gabrielle found herself wanting to rush over and make sure it was not her warrior. She longed to see Xena, but dreaded the thought of it happening. Instead, she found herself swabbing and stitching the wounds of so many that soon they were just faceless souls and she was but one among them. Gabrielle felt nothing anymore. Despair, then grief, followed by anger, had all passed. She was an empty vessel in need of filling. Unfortunately, all that filled her was the blood. The blood of so many had covered her that she could not seem to rid herself of it. And the blood never stopped; her green top covered in crimson splotches that had soaked through to her flesh.

The bard knelt at the stream and plunged her arms into the cold, rushing water, scrubbing furiously to rid herself of the gore and stench that covered her. Disregarding her normally modest disposition, Gabrielle ripped off her green halter and continued to scrub the blood from her body. When she was done, she quickly donned the beige blouse that she had gratefully accepted from one of the village women who had helped with the wounded. It was a tight fit, but Gabrielle managed to button it close.

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Xena walked slowly through the battlefield, carefully picking her way over the dead bodies that had not been gathered up yet. The warrior had known that if a battle ensued, it would be particularly bloody and brutal. Kragon was as ruthless as they came. She had tried in vain to keep Gabrielle from coming, but as usual the bard was adamant. No amount of pleading worked. And this wasn't the first time. No matter what Gabrielle said, Xena would never forgive herself for taking Gabrielle through the Thesselian- Mitoan war zone. She had almost lost Gabrielle for good, and it was as she cradled the lifeless body of her best friend in her arms that the warrior first realized that she could not live without her love... Gabrielle. Afterwards, Xena was not sure which had frightened her more -- Gabrielle dying in her arms, or the fact that this young, naive girl from Poteidaia had gotten past her defenses and firmly entrenched herself in the warrior's heart. 'Not even dying could keep us separated. Somehow, she fought her way back -- to me. It was the greatest gift I have ever received. And still she follows.'

The sight of her warhorse Argo, patiently waiting at the edge of the battlefield by a small copse of trees, caught the warrior's eye. Xena scanned the area and could just make out a strawberry blonde head of hair peeking out from behind the tall overgrowth at the edge of the clearing. Gabrielle was apparently kneeling by Argo, intent on some task. Xena's heart leapt. The warrior had not seen her since this had all began, and bounded over to the pair. As she neared she pulled up abruptly, her heart beating wildly and her breath catching at the sight of her lover kneeling before her. Gabrielle was focused on repacking her traveling bag and had not noticed Xena's arrival.

Xena's mind strayed to thoughts of the women and children that remained at Than's kingdom as dark recollections tried to push their way to the forefront of her memory. More times than she dared to count, she had found herself alone in her tent with one of the women from such a village her army had just defeated. Standing tall and defiant in her warlord's black leather and long, flowing cape, the warrior reveled in the power she wielded before the small form knelt in submissiveness before the "Warrior Princess." And the battle lust that had raged in the warrior's heart would only be quenched as the young woman yielded to the warrior's seductive powers.

Xena shoved the dark thoughts that were threatening to spill out back into the recesses of her mind, where she fought to keep them hidden. But the sight of Gabrielle kneeling before her was too close to her nightmarish thoughts. Xena pictured herself closing the distance between them. She watched, mesmerized, as her left hand reached down, wrapping itself in the young woman's hair as her body lowered itself on to the startled girl. Her mouth quickly descended onto Gabrielle's as her left hand firmly held the bard's head in check. Xena's free hand began to roam over the bard's body, quickly finding its way under the girl's skirt and straight to its goal.

"Xena? Xena?! Are you OK?" Gabrielle stood from where she was checking her traveling bag and faced her friend.

"Huh?!"

"You looked distant. Are you hurt?!" A slight panic crept into the bard's voice as she warily eyed the blood that covered her warrior lover.

"No, no. I'm fine. I just..." Xena's mind tried unsuccessfully to push the lurid images from her mind that she just had of forcing herself on her best friend. 'What has gotten into me?!' The warrior analyzed her feelings and desires and came to a logical conclusion. Xena recognized the symptoms all too clearly. Battle lust. It had been a long time since she had felt it this strongly.

Gabrielle covered the distance between them so quickly that the warrior never had a chance. She flung herself at Xena, wrapping her arms around the stunned warrior and burying her face in Xena's chest without giving a second thought to the blood and dirt that covered her lover. "Gods, I've missed you," the bard whispered as she pulled Xena into an even tighter embrace. "I was so worried." Gabrielle felt the gnawing hunger in her gut become only partially satiated as the warrior enveloped her in strong, knowing arms..

Xena quietly held her for a long moment, before using the excuse of her appearance to slowly extricate herself from Gabrielle's firm hold. "There is a small village a couple of hours south of here," Xena began, trying to change the subject. "I want to be there before the approaching storm is upon us." If Gabrielle had thought Xena was talking about the weather, she would have only been half right. The warrior turned her back to Gabrielle and busied herself with checking the tall warhorse's saddle. With a grace that belied her body's true state, she mounted and started off. She did not offer her young lover a ride. The warrior could not trust herself to remain that close and not act on the feelings of lust that were quickly overtaking her. Gabrielle quickly gathered up her traveling bag and staff and followed on foot. The two lovers traveled in uneasy silence.

Xena had her share of skirmishes over the recent years with road bandits and the occasional lightweight warlord, but nothing had come close to the bloody war that had waged. She had almost come close with the Horde. But Gabrielle's humanity had successfully intervened before it was too late. 'But not before she had been confronted with a small glimpse of my dark half. I had been willing to do anything, sacrifice anything, to protect her. I don't know if she truly realized what I was willing to give up to keep her safe, but she got a small taste of what lurks just under the surface. And still she follows.'

Xena wondered what would have happened if Gabrielle hadn't been able to help bring an end to that war before it got out of hand. She cringed inwardly at the thought of her dark side possibly escaping again, although at one time it had served her well. Destroyer of Nations. Murderer of Men. Defiler of Women. It was a reputation she had proudly worn, although it was not built entirely on fact. There was no denying her sword was stained red with the blood of thousands, but she had never resorted to rape. Yes, she occasionally *helped* herself to one of the young women from a village her army plundered. And if asked later, the bits of information garnered from these girls through tears of shame, always spoke of a domineering warlord bitch taking what she wanted and leaving them battered and broken, never wanting to be touched again. But that was not the real story. They would never admit that once inside the privacy of the warrior's tent, she had simply seduced them, every last one of them. Xena knew how to use her body. She was capable of stripping them bare of the last vestiges of their dignity, reducing the young girls to begging and groveling on their hands and knees to be taken. In the end they had unashamedly offered themselves up fully to the Warrior Princess and were eagerly willing to perform acts that only a few candlemarks ago they had never dreamt of. These small, intimate conquests fueled the warrior's lust for power and she took all that was offered her... until that fateful day.

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Chapter 2

Dark memories from a time long ago began to creep from the recesses of the warrior's mind. She normally had the strength to keep them at bay, though they were not entirely forgotten. In the past two years, those acts had weighed heavily on her conscience. Xena had never been able to forgive herself and had spent many a sleepless night because of this. Now, the lingering sights and smells of the battle provoked recollections she wished she could banish. The flood gates opened and the ultimate defilement she had perpetrated on a young girl came rushing back to the forefront of her memory.

The warlord's newly formed army had entered a village looking for tribute. Xena had expected to collect and simply move on. Instead, they were met by resistive villagers who decided to take a stand and protect what little they had. It was a pity they hadn't decided to better protect their real treasures from the warlord and her army. The villagers were no real match, but they had caught Xena and her men off guard. The warrior soon found her leathers dripping in the blood of men unwilling to surrender. They fought valiantly to protect their homes and property but were eventually slaughtered, and the women and children rounded up.

Xena was about to offer the survivors one last chance to comply to her demands when one young woman, who appeared to be about seventeen winters old, spat in the warrior's face. "You will never take me as a slave," she announced vehemently. "I'd rather die first!" Xena swiped at the spittle trailing down her cheek and licked it sensuously off of her fingers. "We'll see about that." She motioned to two of her men who came over and bound and then dragged the young girl into the nearby tavern.

Sex with the few chosen warriors in her army that Xena had allowed herself to get close to had been getting boring lately. 'Yes,' she thought. 'This is exactly what I need.' The warrior didn't have a name for it, but she had been noticing a growing need for physical as well as sexual release after a hard-fought battle. She had even found herself drawn to picking up the services of whores at nearby inns to satisfy her cravings.

Xena had already decided on this young girl for a night of passion. Her appetite was voracious, and the way the young girl had defiantly made eye contact instead of bowing her head like the rest of the women had inflamed the warrior's being. Young village women were usually never this daring in public. It was only afterwards, when the warlord had folded back the petals of their delicate upbringing, exposing their tight bud of innocence and lapping up their sweet nectar, that their inhibitions would be thrown off. It was then that Xena enjoyed the fruits of her labor.

She had hoped to spend an evening hearing the young girl scream her name out in the throes of passion, but she quickly changed her mind. This girl had publicly humiliated her. The warrior coldly decided that there would be no seduction tonight. 'I will take what I want, *and* make a statement at the same time that will not go unnoticed by the rest of the villagers.'

The captured villagers were taken to the village's meeting hall next door to the tavern and secured while Xena loitered outside. She wanted to let the girl's imagination work in her favor for a while. She knew she was going to be in for a fun evening. This time she would live up to her reputation. She smiled to herself as she entered the tavern.

The warrior found the girl sitting with her hands bound to a support beam in the middle of the dining area, struggling to free herself. As she drew near, the girl abruptly kicked her left leg upwards catching Xena squarely in the crotch. The warrior was momentarily stunned, but quickly recuperated. With a feral grin spreading across her face, the warlord advanced on the young girl, her breast dagger drawn. The girl sat there silently seething, doing her best not to show fear.

"I see you like it rough," the warrior quipped. "Well, if that's the way you want it..." Xena reached down and sliced the girl's hands free from the beam. Grabbing her by her long blonde hair, she flung the girl halfway across the room to land hard against a large wooden dining table.

Xena advanced quickly on the crumpled form. Hauling her to her feet, the warrior brought the girl's face within inches of her own. "I had planned on conducting business from the comfort of a soft bed," the warrior growled as she motioned with her head to the stairs leading to the rooms upstairs. "But... you appear to prefer a different setting. That's fine by me," she hissed. The warrior swiped her arm across the dining table to her right, scattering the unfinished meals in a wide arc across the room. The warlord threw the girl face down on top of the table, the young girl's legs straddling one of the table legs. Xena moved to the opposite corner of the table and grabbing the young girl's forearms, pulled her towards herself until the girl's toes dangled two to three inches off of the floor. Using her whip the warrior bound the writhing girl's arms together before securing the whip to the table leg.

The warlord bent down and studied the young girl's face. The girl turned away, but not before Xena saw the look of fear that she tried so hard to hide. Brushing her lips against the girl's ear so there would be no mistaking the warrior's next comment, Xena seductively breathed three simple words into her ear. "You... are... mine." The warrior chuckled at the whimpered response her words invoked.

Xena slowly walked back around, lazily running a finger around the perimeter of the table. Once behind the girl, she waited patiently. Eventually, the young girl stopped trying to free herself, wary of the warlord's next move. Bending down behind the young girl, the warrior grabbed the hem of her long skirt and pushed it up to gather around her waist. Xena then hooked her fingers in the girl's britches and tugged them down to fall uselessly to the ground below. Moments later, the Warrior Princess, Defiler of Women, deposited her own britches inches from the young girl's face. The girl frantically renewed her efforts to free herself as the realization of the warlord's probable intentions flooded her mind.

The girl finally stilled her futile attempts to work her hands free and tried to look behind herself to see what the warlord was doing. Xena stood motionless in the hushed silence, just inches from the girl's backside. Her eyes were riveted on the plump ass cheeks before her as she allowed her own anticipation to slowly build, heightening her already inflamed senses. When she could stand it no longer, the warrior finally closed the distance between them. Placing her hands firmly on the creamy white mounds of flesh before her, Xena began to roughly knead the girl's cheeks while slowly spreading the trembling legs wide.

The warrior straddled the young girl's left leg, positioning herself over her left ass cheek. Gripping her firmly by the hips she brought the girl's body up to meet hers as she began thrusting herself fiercely against the girl's backside. Following each thrust the girl's body slapped back down onto the table, the corner driving itself painfully between the girl's splayed legs. Xena could feel the heat of her desire beginning to burn her to her core, and frantically increased her pace, her need for release overwhelming all other senses.

Animalistic grunts soon escaped from the warrior as she surged, feeling herself nearing climax. "No one, but NO one will *EVER* humiliate me in front of my men and get away unpunished," the warlord barked through quickening pants. Her short nails drew blood as she continued to slam her throbbing sex against the small form under her. Xena drove herself furiously, oblivious to the pleas that coursed past the girl's gritted teeth as her virginal backside reddened from the continued assault. Suddenly a white hot fury escaped from the warrior and Xena fell forward onto the young girl, crushing her under her armor. Clutching the sides of the table the warrior continued to ride the young girl unmercifully, biting her on her left shoulder as she felt her climax imminent. Suddenly she stiffened. Arching her back and clamping her thighs down hard on the girl, she exploded. Afterwards, the warrior continued to slide herself along the girl's slick wet thigh, pumping more juices from her convulsing sex.

Finally satiated she collapsed, sprawled on top of the girl. "Hmm, I don't know," Xena drawled into the girl's left ear. "It seems to me that you'll make a *fine* slave. What do you think?" the warrior asked, reaching under the girl and pinching her right nipple roughly through her blouse. The girl swallowed hard, but not before a whimpered cry escaped from her. Thinking she could get off again by bringing the girl over, Xena slid off and stood once again behind her. Grabbing her by the hips, the warrior lifted the young girl, spinning her around and dropping her on the table so she was lying face up. The girl winced as her stinging backside hit the rough, uneven planks of the table. Xena grabbed the young girl and pulled her towards her, positioning the girl's ass cheeks at the corner of the table; her legs dangling in the air over the sides.

Xena slid her hands up the girl's inner thighs, spreading her legs wide. She was about to lean into the girl to make contact with her own sex when she paused. Curiously, she fingered the girl's sex, gingerly probing the opening. She was shocked, yet deliriously elated, when her finger met with resistance as she began to enter the girl. 'A virgin!' her mind cried out. "My, my. Why didn't you tell me, my sweet, *innocent* thing?!" Xena leaned over until she was just inches from the girl's anguished face. "Allow me to leave you with something to always remember me by," she purred.

Unceremoniously, the warrior plunged two fingers deep into the young girl, tearing past the thin membrane that shielded her innocence. The girl cried out in horror and shock, and Xena merely laughed in her face. Standing back up, the warrior proudly displayed two bloody fingers before wiping them clean on the front of the girl's crumpled skirt and exiting the tavern. As usual, Xena was correct. The broken girl made a fine example to the rest. They easily got the tribute they desired before leaving to conquer new *lands*.

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Chapter 3

The image of the young girl slowly faded from Xena's memory, only to be replaced by a vision of Gabrielle as she looked when the warrior princess first met her in Poteidaia. The ex-warlord had just saved her and her village from the wrath of slavers. She was so young and innocent, so much like the girl the warrior had defiled. Before Xena had a chance to be on her way, Gabrielle had confronted her. 'And she wanted me, an ex-warlord, to take her away. She was so naive. If she had only known what I was capable of, she would have run screaming in the opposite direction. I even did my best to scare her away, threatening her lest she make me angry. And still she follows.'

A sudden clap of foreboding thunder brought the warrior out of her reverie. Xena glanced behind herself to find Gabrielle a few paces off, leaning heavily on her staff in her attempt to keep up. "The village is just a short way off," the warrior called back, as she turned back to the dusty road picking up her pace.

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A young stable boy rushed up as Xena dismounted Argo. He stopped abruptly at the sight of the bloody and dirty warrior. Too frightened to advance or even turn and run, he stood frozen in his tracks. Xena caught his eye and quietly held Argo's reins out to him. He slowly advanced, due more to the magnetic pull of the warrior's eyes than his own motor skills. Xena laid the reins in his shaking, outstretched hand and instructed him to take *good* care of her horse. The boy violently shook his head in the affirmative before leading Argo away.

Gabrielle, who had been waiting patiently during this exchange, turned and shuffled towards the inn, with Xena close behind. The inn was practically empty. The lunch crowd had already dispersed, and it was too early for the dinner crowd. Two sets of eyes greeted the pair as they entered. A young barmaid, probably the innkeeper's daughter, had been busily washing down tables when she looked up and gasped. She hurriedly turned and bent back to her task, afraid to make eye contact with the disturbing sight. The innkeeper left his seat at the end of the bar and quietly approached. He did his best to act like all of his customers came in looking like rejects from Tartarus.

Gabrielle, without a word, placed a few dinars on the bar. The innkeeper looked from the bard's face to Xena's and directed them to a room upstairs. The bard eyed the steep narrow staircase and with an audible sigh, started heading towards it. Xena hesitated. She looked from Gabrielle to the front door before returning her gaze to the disappearing form of the young girl. Shaking her head slowly back and forth, the warrior gingerly took the stairs two at a time to catch up.

Xena passed Gabrielle in the upstairs hallway and headed for their room. She opened the door, and as was her custom, paused at the threshold surveying the room. Satisfied, she entered. The room was nothing special. A bed in the far left corner, a small table to the left of the door, and a cold unlit fireplace off to the right. The window on the far wall allowed the only light that fell across the room, the bleak dark-grey light of the afternoon casting the room in long, unforgiving shadows.

Xena knew this was wrong. All wrong. She had to get out of there. The warrior had planned on saddling Argo and riding, just riding furiously until she was so exhausted that nothing mattered. She wasn't sure if it would help quell the intense feelings that were churning in her heart, but she would rather die than expose Gabrielle to her carnal desires. 'Or anybody else for that matter,' the warrior reminded herself. Xena's mind wandered to thoughts of the young barmaid downstairs. She was exactly the kind of girl the former warlord would have been interested in. Young... pretty... shy... And very likely a virgin. Instead of a sense of conquest, all the warrior felt was a deep regret about her past actions. The thought of being with another person no longer had any appeal. She wanted Gabrielle. 'And that cannot be.'

Xena flinched at the sound of the heavy wooden door closing and the locking bolt swinging securely into place. Her warrior senses immediately heightened as the primitive sense of being trapped momentarily overtook her. Her nostrils flared and she took in a sudden lungful of air before slowly exhaling and willing herself back under control. The warrior berated herself. It was normal for her body to be attuned to her surroundings, but during the aftermath of a particularly bloody battle, her senses sizzled at the slightest physical stimuli. This was evident as her skin suddenly prickled as a million tiny nerve endings announced Gabrielle's closeness to her back.

"Take me."

The words were uttered so softly that they almost floated undetected out the open window, to be torn and scattered upon the winds of the rising storm. But those two words did not escape the warrior's extraordinary hearing and their registration stilled her rapidly beating heart. She whirled around, taking a few unsteady steps backward. Xena knew full well the source of those two words, yet still she hoped to see somebody, anybody other than her young lover standing before her. She was not sure if she was more startled by the utterance from an up-to-now silent bard or the word's implications. The warrior's heart raged, their implications being more than she could bear. Xena tried vainly to quell the growing inferno of emotions that threatened to spill out, but there was no denying her need for release. 'Just... not here... not now... not with *her*,' she cried to herself. Her blood pounded in her veins, and a loud thrumming behind her eyes caused her vision to momentarily blur. The warrior gave her head a few harsh shakes and refocused on the silent form before her.

Xena clamped her mouth shut and swallowed the words she had been about to utter. There was no need in asking Gabrielle if she knew what she was asking of the warrior. Xena could tell simply by the young girl's body language. Gabrielle's arms were outstretched, welcoming her lover with an intense longing in her eyes that the warrior had never seen before.

Xena found herself only an arms length away from Gabrielle. The warrior silently battled her dark half. She had only planned on staying at the inn long enough to make sure that Gabrielle was safe, before making up some excuse to leave. Because for Gabrielle to be truly safe, the warrior knew that she needed to put as much distance between them as possible. Now she was torn. Up until now sex with her new lover had been wonderful, loving, carefree and restrained. Xena had always been afraid to let even a little bit of her dark side out to play. And with the discipline born of a warrior, she had been able to hold it in check. Until now. She longed for release, and Gabrielle was welcoming her to her bosom. Against Xena's better judgement it was an offer she did not want to refuse.

Xena's conscience told her to run, but her body betrayed her. Reaching out, she grasped Gabrielle's jaw between her thumb and forefinger. The bard clutched the warrior's forearm with both hands, looking up into Xena's eyes. The warrior appraisingly took in the full, soft, pouting lips, the long delicate neck, and could just imagine the creamy flesh that awaited her behind the blouse. Xena swallowed hard, already imagining the sweet taste of those lips, not unlike a reformed drunk would imagine the sweet burn of alcohol down their throat as they would lovingly run their fingers over a cold, sweating glass of spirits.

The warrior met the bard's eyes, and Gabrielle found herself unable to hold her gaze. She quickly dropped her eyes to her hands. Xena tilted the bard's face up, but still Gabrielle averted her eyes. "Look at me," she ordered, and the bard quickly complied. What Gabrielle saw reflected back to her in those two dark blue pools of liquid fire was a smoldering desire barely held in check. The bard gulped audibly and subconsciously tightened her grasp.

Never breaking eye contact, Xena tightened her hold on the bard's jaw and pulled her forward. Thrusting the young girl's face up to hers, she pulled the girl up onto her tip-toes and captured the lips she longed to taste. Xena slid her hand down the bard's neck, wrapping her fingers around the soft flesh of her throat. The warrior's tongue insisted on winning entrance to the young girl's mouth, and the moment Gabrielle's jaw surrendered, Xena thrust her large wet member fully into the girl, taking possession.

A low growl emanated from the depths of Xena's soul as she hungrily seized the girl's tongue, sucking it into her own mouth. Gabrielle moaned into the warrior's mouth as Xena slowly released her tongue, running her teeth along the length of it's shaft. Capturing the bard's lower lip between her own, she lightly nipped at the soft flesh. When Gabrielle yelped at the feeling of sharp teeth on her tender lip, Xena bit down again before releasing her hold. Gabrielle stumbled backwards, her legs no longer able to support her weight. Xena quickly closed the distance between them, effectively pinning the girl between her armor and the rented room's door. She braced both of her forearms against the door on either side of the bard's head and lowered her head to stare intently into two very large orbs of green.

The sensuous writhing of the young girl's body against hers was more than Xena could handle. "You want this, don't you?" the warrior whispered as her lips caressed the bard's right ear. "You want to feel my mouth on you, suckling your breasts, isn't that right? Hmm?" Xena snaked her tongue out and traced the folds of the bard's ear before sighing. Gabrielle could only moan softly in response. "Feel my mouth sliding over your skin, licking, tasting, consuming." Xena ran her right hand lightly down the front of the young girl's body, which twitched uncontrollably from the feather-light touch.

Pushing the front of the bard's skirt up around her waist, the warrior grasped the young girl by the hips and adeptly kneed her in the crotch. Xena luxuriated in the feel of the girl's soft cotton undergarment rubbing up her thigh as she pushed her lower leg against the door, forcing the bard to stand on tiptoe. They were now practically eye-to-eye. Xena stared into the glistening pale green eyes before her. "Give yourself to me," she stated simply, as her muscular thigh began its rhythmic assault on the young woman's already sopping wet sex.

Gabrielle's head flew up and her eyes riveted on the ceiling above. The long sinuous line of the bard's neck caught the warrior's eye, and Xena lowered her head, greedily sinking her teeth into the taut flesh before her. She sucked hungrily on the feast offered her as her entire body methodically kept up the same slow, torturous movements against the trembling flesh that her thigh had started. The bard felt herself torn in two directions. Her body wanted - - no -- craved to be taken by this powerful woman, but her naturally modest demeanor made her question her needs. Her fists found purchase on the armor on the warrior's shoulders, and she half-heartedly tried to push the larger woman away.

A fire began to burn in the warrior's eyes as she felt the small form before her begin to meekly resist her advances. It would have been so easy to give in completely to her dark thoughts. It had been so long since the warrior felt this kind of power. But Xena fought it with an intensity she did not think she had. The warrior stilled her rhythmic movements against the girl and brought her hands up to the bard's head, tilting the young girl's face down to meet her intense gaze. Xena watched as Gabrielle audibly gulped, a slight look of panic forming in her eyes. In a low voice that burred its way into the girl's head Xena insisted, "I want the truth. You can't lie to me. Do you want me to stop?"

The bard stood there for a long moment, debating whether to give the answer she thought she must, or the truth. Slowly, her hands slipped from the warrior's armor and her arms fell to her sides. Unable to break Xena's gaze, she looked the older woman directly in the eyes and whispered, "No." Xena knew she had the truth. A smile slowly spread across the warrior's face as she seized the bard's wrists, pinning them to the solid wooden door behind her.

The warrior's thigh soon returned to fervently thrusting itself into the young girl's sex, followed almost immediately by the rest of her body against the bard. Gabrielle squirmed seductively against the warrior's assault, her head lolling to the side as Xena slowly worked her way around the right side of her neck, capturing and tugging on the now exposed earlobe. The bard's quick, shallow pants tickled the warrior's ear, and Xena sadistically slowed the pace of her thrusting thigh on the girl's sensitized sex, deciding to stretch the delicious torture out for as long as possible. The warrior chuckled at the quiet cry of disappointment that soon followed.

Xena brought both of the girl's slender arms over her head and transferred ownership of the bard's left wrist to her left hand. The warrior continued to easily hold the bard's wrists as she brought her free hand down to the collar of the young girl's peasant blouse. She lightly fingered the rough beige material, eyeing the two full breasts that strained under the too-tight top. She was well aware of the two perfect jewels that were hidden just behind the cloth barrier, and the warrior's raw passion would not be denied.

Grabbing a handful of material, she unmercifully ripped the blouse from the front of the bard's body. Two luscious mounds of sweet flesh fell free from their constrictive confines, the small pink nipples already hardened and erect with desire. The warrior's free hand instinctively latched onto the bard's left breast, roughly kneading the soft mound of flesh in her large, callused hand. Xena's mouth started its own slow, torturous path down her right collarbone and across the now exposed flesh of the young girl's shoulder, biting and sucking along the way. The warrior savored the sweet taste of sweat as it emanated from the pores of the flesh under her lips. After what felt like an eternity, her mouth had worked its way to the soft skin above Gabrielle's right breast. Poised over the swollen erect nipple, her head stilled. She casually glanced up and in the waning light of the day saw the anxious longing that flickered over the bard's features. Xena let out a low chuckle as the girl squeezed her eyes shut, biting down a little nervously on her lower lip. Turning back to the breast in question the warrior quickly flicked her tongue once over the tip of the puckered flesh.

The bard attempted but failed to stifle a cry. Xena looked up from her meal to see the girl's eyes still tightly closed and her mouth clenched shut. The warrior reached up and ran her thumb over the bard's lips. Gabrielle's eyes flew open. Xena continued to massage her lips, slowly working her thumb between the young girl's lips and into her mouth. "I want to hear you. Hear what I do for you. Don't hold anything back." Xena returned to the bard's breast and once again flicked her tongue over the nipple. This time a small whimper escaped past the girl's lips as Xena's thumb played with the bard's tongue.

The warrior continued the small licks, first to one breast and then the other, graduating slowly to intimate kisses. The small whimpers that escaped Gabrielle's lips soon turned to full-fledged groans of desire. The warrior's blood began to boil at the intoxicating power this young girl wielded over her, driving her on. Her hand returned to one of the breasts, before she opened her mouth wide, consuming the other breast whole. She ground her face into the heaving bosom offered her, relishing the feel of the nipple on the back of her tongue. Slowly she pulled her mouth away, stopping to bite and twist the nipple between her teeth as the tip of her tongue flicked itself rapidly over the swollen hard nub. Gabrielle's cries of pleasure and need spurred the warrior on, and Xena repeated this exquisite assault on the young flesh again and again as her right hand continued to twist and pinch the other hard nipple.

With a slight touch of regret, Xena's hand left the bard's breast unattended. She slowly ran her hand down the side of Gabrielle's body, coming to rest on the young girl's hip. Lazily, she trailed the tips of two fingers up the inside of the bard's creamy white thigh, delighting in the muscles that twitched and jumped from her touch. With deliberate ease, she snaked those same two fingers between the top of her thigh and the girls hot, pulsing sex, and bit down hard on the nipple still in her possession as a whimpered groan escaped past the young girl's gritted teeth. Extracting her now dripping fingers, the warrior proceeded to smear the hot juices brusquely over the young girl's lips. Xena's mouth quickly descended onto the bard's glistening lips, and saliva and juices were joined in a sweet ambrosial mix that inflamed the warrior to new heights.

With her right thigh pinning the young girl steadfastly to the door, the warrior released her hold on one of the girl's wrists, catching it with her free hand and bringing both of the bard's hands down to her sides. Xena's mouth lowered to the front of the girl's throat where she sucked and nipped at the small hollow. Sliding their hands over the young girl's hips Xena repeatedly thrust the bard's body up and back down her rock hard thigh, marveling at the hot slick trail of fluid lathering her flesh. Short, ragged pants issued unbridled from the bard, and this time Xena answered her unspoken plea by quickening her pace.

"You know you want this," the warrior purred into the young girl's ear. "C'mon. You can do it. You're almost there." Xena continued to urge the young girl on. "Let yourself go. Give yourself over to me," she demanded. When Xena felt the bard's thigh muscles clench and lock on to her own thigh, she slowly slid the girl down its long length and held her firmly against the door. The warrior then began to grind her knee in a circular pattern into the bard's throbbing sex as the young girl's hips bucked violently with her imminent release. Gabrielle threw her head back as a torrent of screams were suddenly unleashed from her soul.

Finally, the bard's upper body fell back limp against the door, her arms dangling uselessly at her sides. Her chest heaved uncontrollably as she fought to push air down her burning lungs. Xena took the heaving bosoms as an open invitation and quickly engulfed the young girl's right breast in her mouth, sucking and biting with wild abandon. Her stamina knew no bounds as she continued her pursuit to take all that the bard was willing to give. The young girl's eyes flew open at this newest assault on her flesh, still reeling from the continued grinding of the warrior's right knee. She groaned and mumbled incoherently as Xena's right hand came up and rolled and pinched her other nipple, bringing both intense pleasure and pain to her now swollen and tender flesh.

Xena replaced her mouth with her left hand, slowly raising her head to come eye-to-eye with the bard. Foreheads touching and lips barely brushing each other she confided coyly, "I'm not done with you yet." A feral grin spread across her features as she noted the surprise that registered on the young girl's face. "I will enter you. You will feel me inside you everywhere, touching you, claiming you, possessing you. Nothing will be left. You will be mine." Xena's tongue uncoiled suddenly from its lair, rushing past the bard's startled lips and teeth and burrowed deep into her mouth.

The warrior's hands left the bard's breasts and worked their way behind the girl, reaching under her skirt and down her undergarment. She firmly grasped two full round cheeks, slipping her long strong fingers between them and probing the bard's intimate flesh. The startled young girl lurched forward and Xena used this momentum to pull the shaking form back up her thigh. The girl's legs latched on to the warrior's hips as Xena held the quivering mass tightly against her armor.

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Chapter 4

Still holding the bundle of raw nerves to her, Xena backed up to the edge of the bed. As she lowered herself to a sitting position, the warrior slid the young girl down, and Gabrielle came to rest straddling the warrior's thighs. While her lips, teeth and tongue continued to ply their trade on the bard's ravaged mouth, Xena scooted to the edge of the bed, perching the girl precariously on her knees. Extricating her hands from the young girl's tender backside, Xena firmly grasped the bard's thighs and slowly separated her own legs, causing the young girl's legs to splay open even farther.

Gabrielle's body began to slide down between the warrior's thighs and her hands came forward wrapping themselves around Xena's neck. The warrior caught her by the wrists and brought her arms down and behind the girl's body. "No," she stated flatly. Transferring both wrists to one hand she reached to her side and unhooked her whip. Uncoiling it, she allowed the handle to dangle to the floor. "Hold this," she commanded, as she curled the bard's hand around a length of the whip. She then proceeded to wrap the whip snugly around both wrists a few times before placing the other end in the girl's free hand. As long as Gabrielle continued to hold the whip, her hands remained bound, although they both knew all she had to do was uncurl her fingers to be free. But freedom was relative. Gabrielle was now forced to tense her leg muscles to keep from sinking between the warrior's thighs.

Xena's left hand entangled itself in the strawberry blonde hair behind the girl's head, bringing her mouth down once again on to the bard's tender lips. Reaching down between their legs and under the girl's skirt with her free hand, the warrior slid her index finger under the bard's undergarment and lightly across her swollen clitoris. Gabrielle's tense body jumped at this slight contact. "Mmm," Xena murmured into the bard's mouth. "Seems like you're ready... again." She brought her slick finger up and slipped it between their lips, sliding it first into the girl's mouth and then hers. "Taste what I do to you... so sweet." The warrior's tongue slid all around the inside of the bard's mouth, distributing bits of sweet nectar wherever it went.

Grasping a handful of hair with her left hand, Xena gently pulled the young girl's head away from hers. "I just need to take care of a little *problem* first," she drawled, as she reached between her breasts with her right hand and procured her breast dagger from its hiding place. Gabrielle's eyes widened as the light of the cold grey afternoon filtered in from the window and glinted off the steel. She watched, mesmerized, as Xena held the blade before their eyes, examining it closely. Gabrielle's attention was drawn to the window by a vicious crackle of lightening, followed a few heartbeats later by a booming roar of thunder. But her eyes quickly riveted back on the spectacle before her as the warrior brought the tip of her left index finger to meet the point of the blade. Two sets of eyes watched intently as a single drop of blood started to form.

"It looks like the storm is almost upon us," Xena stated absentmindedly, as she licked the fresh drop of blood from her finger. The warrior's left hand softly cupped the young girl's chin and sparkling blue eyes locked onto misty green. "Do you trust me?"

Gabrielle did not hesitate to answer, and stammering only a little, quickly replied, "With my life."

Xena brought the flat part of the blade down to rest on the bard's inner left thigh. The young girl's heart stilled and her breath caught in her throat as she felt the smooth steel tickling her soft down. "Stay very still," the warrior advised, as she began to slide the razor sharp blade up, easing it under Gabrielle's skirt. A small gasp escaped from the young girl as the tip of the blade momentarily came to rest at her apex before Xena slowly worked it under the bard's undergarment. The bard moved not a muscle as she felt the flat of the blade pressing on the folds of her womanhood. The warrior leaned forward and seductively ran her tongue over the young girl's lips while continuing to press the blade against her nether lips. Xena delighted in the feel of the bard's leg muscles tightening and quivering around her thighs as the young girl began to strain to lift herself off of Xena's lap and distance herself from the smooth flat object that both excited and scared her at the same time.

The warrior's tongue trailed a wet path from the bard's lips to her right ear. "Going someplace?" Xena breathed, tickling the young girl's wet ear with her hot breath and tongue. "I think not," she continued, as she got the bard's full attention by biting down on her earlobe while continuing to press the knife blade against her slippery lips. A whimper of fear escaped past the young girl's clenched teeth, and the warrior's grin widened. "I am going to make you mine, and I yours," Xena whispered, as she pulled back to look intently at the young girl. Gabrielle saw the sincerity in her warrior's eyes as Xena mouthed the word, "forever," before leaning in to claim the bard's mouth, and soul. Xena pushed the blade downwards, feeling the strain of the cotton undergarment being pulled to its limit. With a quick flick of her wrist, the warrior cleanly sliced through the offending cloth barrier that had been blocking the entrance to her prize.

She brought the dagger back up between them, examining it carefully. Not a drop of blood was found on the blade, but it did glisten with drops of something else. Xena carefully ran her tongue along the blade, lapping up the bard's sweet nectar. "Mmm, food of the gods," she muttered, "food of the gods." The warrior was brought back to reality when a long breath escaped the girl's lips and an involuntary shudder racked her body. The warrior smiled as she focused on the young girl's relieved face. "Problem solved," Xena quipped, as she cleanly flipped the dagger over the bard's shoulder and embedded it in the door. Placing both hands on the bard's knees, the warrior leaned forward, enticing the young girl's lips and teeth apart with her playful tongue. As her hands inched up the bard's inner thighs, her tongue lightly flicked in and out of the girl's mouth. "I have many skills," she murmured past the bard's quivering lips, "many skills."

Placing her left hand at the small of Gabrielle's back, Xena steadied the bard as she suddenly thrust her right hand upward, impaling the girl on two long fingers. Xena swallowed the young girl's surprised groan of pleasure as the warrior's fingers tunneled into the depths of Gabrielle's being. The force of her entrance into the bard caused Gabrielle to lift off of the warrior's lap and momentarily be suspended on Xena's hand. The bard quickly tightened her leg muscles around the warrior's rock hard thighs and held herself aloft as Xena slowly and deliciously slid her fingers out just to their tips.

Before the warrior had a chance to continue, Gabrielle dropped herself back down on to Xena's poised fingers, her need to feel the warrior possess her overriding her good sense. Blue eyes flashed and locked onto wary green. Xena's need for control almost caused her to take action, but she froze at the look of determination on the young girl's face. Gabrielle slowly lifted herself back off of the warrior's fingers and then plunged herself downwards again, a grunt escaping past her lips as the soft folds of her womanhood slid over Xena's digits burying them deep into herself.

The warrior decided she would allow herself to take a passive role -- for the moment. She kept her right hand still, allowing the bard to build up a rhythm of raising and dropping herself onto the warrior's fingers. Xena marveled at the creamy softness that was Gabrielle as the bard again and again enveloped the warrior's long digits, making love to her hand. Total passivity did not last long though as Xena's tongue quickly picked up the same rhythm of thrusts into the young girl's trembling mouth.

Gabrielle had built up quite a pace, but Xena could feel her beginning to falter as the bard's thigh muscles started to quiver. On the girl's next downward drop, Xena quickly burrowed her thumb into the bard's soft folds, unerringly finding her way to the girl's throbbing hard nub. The warrior's mouth covered the bard's as an anguished cry burst forth from her mouth. What little strength the young girl had suddenly dissipated, and her leg muscles turned to mush. She sank into the warrior's hand and Xena's thumb gladly continued its relentless attack.

As the warrior continued to excite the small hard nub, she took over where the bard left off and began sliding her fingers in and out of the girl's warm tight tunnel. Xena could tell it wouldn't take much more stimulation to bring the bard over, and paid careful attention to the young girl's body language. At the last possible moment, the warrior's fingers came to a dead standstill, buried inside the girl's convulsing sex. The bard cried out in protest, but Xena ignored the pleas.

The warrior chuckled quietly as the bard squirmed seductively on her lap. She knew what Gabrielle wanted, but wasn't ready to give it to her... yet. Xena ran her teeth along the girl's jawline, ending up at her left ear. Once there, she ran the tip of her tongue over the swirls of the bard's ear before slipping her teeth over the earlobe and quietly nipping at the flesh.

The warrior's throaty voice purred into the girl's ear. "We seem to have neglected your breasts. Do they not ache to be touched? Do they not want to feel my tongue swirling over them? Do your nipples not beg to have my lips consume them?" she cooed. Gabrielle didn't think it was possible, but she quickly forgot about the warrior's two fingers still buried deep within her, as Xena's erotic promises sent spasms of anticipation to every nerve ending in her now over-sensitized breasts.

The bard whimpered uncontrollably as Xena took her own sweet time trailing little nips and licks down her neck. As the warrior worked her way to the top of the bard's chest, Gabrielle threw her head back, placing her weight on Xena's left hand as she arched her breasts upward. The intense need that the warrior's words provoked were causing an ache that was beginning to border on painful. She arched her breasts further up, desperate for attention.

"Hmm, decisions, decisions." Xena had finally worked her way down, and happily paused before both breasts. "Which one?" The warrior waited patiently for an answer. Getting none, she repeated her question.

Gabrielle suddenly realized Xena was asking her a question and expecting her to make a decision. The bard could barely keep a coherent thought in her head and wondered frantically how she would decide. Luckily her flesh took over and her body quickly twisted, offering her left breast to the warrior.

Xena bent down, lavishing attention to the sweet flesh presented to her. Placing soft wet kisses to the outer region of the breast, she slowly worked her way inward. She then proceeded to lightly swirl her tongue over the areola, taking care to avoid the erect nipple. The bard could feel her skin nearly burning where the warrior's tongue made contact; her unspoken desires evident from the moans of pleasure passing her lips. Gabrielle thrust her breast closer to her lover's lips, fighting frantically for some form of release. Xena paused for only a moment before wrapping her lips firmly around the swollen hard nipple and sucking it into her mouth. Trapping it between her lips, she slowly tightened her hold. The bard's body trembled as the warrior's teeth grazed over the tip, before they too steadily bit down and claimed the tender flesh.

This shot a bolt of heat to the bard's loins, and her inner muscles suddenly convulsed, squeezing Xena's fingers. The warrior immediately picked up on this cue and abandoned the breast, thrusting her fingers deep inside the girl once again. This quick switch in tactics left Gabrielle dizzy. The bard's head shot up and she glared at a grinning warrior. She was about to speak but wasn't sure whether to voice her disappointment at her abandoned breast or thank the gods for the concentrated effort the warrior was giving her sex. Xena's thumb slid between the girl's lips, delving into her creamy center, finding the bard's voice box. The warrior pushed down hard on the small protrusion, moving her thumb in a tight circular pattern over the engorged nub. The question the bard was pondering suddenly became a mute point as she groaned and repeated over and over, "Oh... gods..., oh... gods..." Xena's grin widened into a full- fledge smile.

Gabrielle soon met the warrior's upward thrusts with downward plunges of her own as she tried desperately to quell the growing ache in her belly. It was a raw burning desire that up until now the young girl had never encountered. Her need to feel Xena touch her everywhere was overwhelming her senses, and she drove herself down again and again, trying to bury the warrior inside her.

Gabrielle's acute senses focused everywhere Xena was touching her. Her tender lower lip quivered as the warrior expertly sucked on it with her warm moist lips. The sensitized flesh of her sweat-soaked lower back tingled where the warrior's left hand rested. The young girl marveled at the play of rock-hard muscles under soft skin as she tightly wrapped her legs around the warrior's thighs. She was fervently aware of the way her inner muscles expanded and contracted around Xena's fingers and the warrior's thumb that knowingly swirled over her throbbing clitoris was driving her wild.

Each of these separate contacts were enough to assail the bard's senses, but taken as a whole they spiraled her spirit upwards. Gabrielle felt herself escalating higher and higher, while all the time feeling herself grounded by the warrior's touch. She was just at the peak, that barest of moments between the skyrocketing upward climb and the freefall. Just as she felt herself tipping over into that other dimension of gut-wrenching/soul-searing bliss, she felt the warrior's hand grasp her and pull her from the edge.

It took the girl a long few moments to realize that Xena had once again stilled her delving fingers deep within her. When this realization finally did take fruition, the bard honestly considered letting go of the whip and finishing the job herself. Two things stopped her. One was the strange secure feeling that had enveloped her after being bound by Xena. Yes, she would have to admit that in the last two years she had been tied up more times than she cared to remember. But this was somehow different. She knew that try as she might, Xena still felt it was her duty to protect her, keep her safe. She had argued this point with the warrior until she was blue in the face, never revealing that deep down inside she liked the security that this knowledge provided. And in this vulnerable-looking position that she now found herself in, that security she felt from her reticent warrior was only magnified. The other reason was the fact that the bard now had a stranglehold on the whip as the warrior's lips descended and made ravenous love to her right breast. Gabrielle quickly forgave Xena as she arched herself further into the warrior's mouth.

When Xena once again began pumping her fingers into the girl, Gabrielle weakly counted and then rechecked her math carefully. 'Yes!' she thought wearily. 'Thank the gods I've only got two breasts.' The bard was certain her body provided no other distractions for the warrior. No longer having the strength in her tired leg muscles to help, Gabrielle simply spread her legs as wide as possible and accepted the warrior's thrusting fingers into her. She closed her eyes tightly and concentrated all of her thoughts and senses on those two strong digits, feeling herself begin to spiral upward again.

The warrior held the squirming bard firmly on her lap, steadily increasing her fingers to a fevered pace, the girl's body trembling violently with her imminent release. "Mmm, you are so wet," Xena whispered into the bard's ear. "You have coated my hand with your sweetness." Abruptly the warrior once again stilled her fingers deep inside the young girl. The bard groaned in anguish and desperately clenched at Xena's fingers with her inner muscles, trying unsuccessfully to force them to finish their assault.

"Do you want this?" Xena asked, as she curled her fingertips upwards deep within the girl's being, raking them over a rather sensitive spot high on the bard's smooth inner walls. "You *need* this," she continued, as her hot breath and wet tongue tickled the creases of the bard's ear. "Will you die without it?" she asked sweetly, feeling the girl frantically nodding her head yes in response. Over the sobbing moans of protest by the bard, Xena slowly extricated her fingers.

"I told you that you would feel me inside you everywhere," she reminded the bard, as her index finger slid between the girl's cheeks and lightly stroked her sphincter. The shocked look on the bard's face soon disappeared as she looked deeply into the serious blue eyes boring into her. She knew the warrior *always* kept her promises. Gabrielle soon found herself squirming uncontrollably as she felt the warrior's long finger begin to massage her dark opening. "Hmm, I thought you'd like this," Xena whispered into her ear. "You are so firm... so *very* tight." Gabrielle could feel a smile splay across the warrior's face as Xena continued to nibble on her ear.

The warrior thrilled at the moans and gasps that her erotic touch produced and slowly stoked the young girl's passion, building it until the bard's body begged her to possess her. Xena obliged. The young girl cried out in alarm when she felt the tip of the warrior's index finger slowly begin to enter her virginal orifice, invading territory she never dreamt would be infiltrated. "Everywhere," Xena husked as she bit down on the bard's earlobe. "I promised you *everywhere*."

Gabrielle's head flew back and she attempted to gulp in lungfuls of air as she felt her body straining to accept this burgeoning invasion. "Just a little more," Xena assured her, as her first knuckle slowly slipped past the bard's sensitized ring of muscle and disappeared into the girl. The warrior continued to push her finger deeper into the young girl's nether region, fighting the bard's natural reflexes to expel the foreign object.

Gabrielle felt the older woman filling her completely, possessing her in a way she did not know was possible. She was more than a little shocked with how aroused she was becoming having her body taken in this new and strange way. The bard marveled at the warrior's knowledgeable touch, wondering what other surprises this magnificent woman had in store for her. She was brought out of her reverie by Xena's soft purring.

"Ooo, you are *so* very tight," the warrior muttered, as her second knuckle crossed the threshold and was enveloped by clenching muscles. "Just... a little... more," she grunted, as the last of her long digit embedded itself into the young girl. The warrior leisurely twirled her finger around, delighting in the moans of ecstasy that it elicited. Her thumb pushed past the girl's dripping blonde curls penetrating her quickly. "Mmm, I can feel myself inside of you," Xena grinned, as she teasingly began to take turns thrusting her fingers inside both of the bard's orifices, rubbing her fingers together over the thin membrane that separated them.

The warrior was unsure how much more the girl could endure and slid her left arm up the bard's back, pulling the writhing form to her. Her mouth descended on the bard's open mouth, swallowing her pants and cries. The warrior pushed her tongue past the young girl's lips, laying claim to everything inside. Gabrielle melted at the realization that the warrior had sealed her promise. She did indeed feel Xena in her *everywhere*. Gabrielle wrapped her legs under the warrior's thighs, trying unsuccessfully to clamp down on their violent shaking as her body reveled in the exquisite torture.

"You can do it," Xena encouraged her. "Just let yourself go. Give yourself over to me," she commanded. The warrior leaned back from whispering into the bard's ear and locked eyes with the young girl. The bard's glazed eyes struggled to focus through the sweat-plastered hair that fell wildly across her face. "You are mine," Xena mouthed, before her mouth descended onto the girl's quivering lips, taking all the bard had to offer. Gabrielle's groans were claimed by the warrior as the young girl's exhausted body strained to give her the release she so desperately hungered for. As her body began to buck wildly and ride the fingers that Xena had buried deep inside her, Gabrielle tore her mouth away from Xena, whipping her head from side to side in unrestrained ecstasy.

"Oh... gods... yes... please... ...XEEEEENNNNAAA!!!" Gabrielle's entire body stiffened and she abruptly exploded onto the warrior as Xena's name continued to resonate off the walls of the room. The warrior's right hand was drenched as Gabrielle freely surrendered her most precious gift. The intoxicating power the warrior successfully wielded finally quelled her prurient cravings. Xena's lips sought out Gabrielle's and she kissed her tenderly, reassuring her that everything was OK. Gabrielle's body continued to twitch and spasm for some time, and Xena quietly massaged the bard's convulsions while holding her lover tightly to her chest. After some time the older woman deftly extricated her fingers from the spent bard, and laid the palm of her hand against Gabrielle's sex, continuing the much needed connection.

As the magnitude of the last few days finally caught up with the warrior's body, Xena collapsed backwards on to the bed, her left arm covering her eyes. With the natural *high* she had been riding gone, all of the aches and pains received during battle were now making themselves known. She ignored them. All Xena could think about was what she just did, what Gabrielle had wanted her to do. The bard had told her on more than one occasion that she loved *all* of Xena, but the warrior felt vulnerable.

She felt powerless, betrayed by her own cravings. The battle lust had weakened her resolve, if only a little, and Gabrielle had been exposed to a small taste of a side of herself that Xena had hoped to always keep buried. She knew she should have dropped Gabrielle off at the entrance to the inn and fled. But she quickly talked herself into going inside and staying just long enough to see that Gabrielle successfully secured a room. Then she would leave, she had promised herself. Before she realized what she was doing, her feet were propelling her up the stairs to *their* room. 'We'll just make sure she's settled in and *then* leave,' her conscience promised her. And Xena believed.

'Would I really have been able to leave at that point?' She prayed the answer was yes. Knew at the time it *had* to be yes. But Gabrielle had changed all of that. 'Dear, sweet Gabrielle. How will I ever be able to explain my feelings to you? How do you explain battle lust to someone who has never waded through rivers of blood and felt the power as the dead and dying pile up around you.' Tears formed as the ice-blue of the warrior's eyes slowly began to melt.

Xena was brought back to the present when she felt a slight shift in Gabrielle's weight. She uncovered her eyes feeling a firm pressure on her chest. Startled, she found Gabrielle looming over her, the weight of the bard's body pressing the girl's left hand firmly into her chest armor. Then she noticed the look in Gabrielle's eyes. They were glazed over with a wild, smoldering desire.

Suddenly she felt something smooth and hard pressing into her sex and then felt it move slightly downward, to be teasingly poised over her opening. Xena looked down to see the tail end of her whip wrapped around Gabrielle's waist and followed it's path as it snaked down the length of the bard's right arm. Gabrielle's hand was holding the base of the whip handle, while the tip disappeared under the strips of the warrior's leather skirt.

Xena laid there motionless, transfixed on the sight of her young lover. The warrior inside of her wanted to jump up and put a stop to what was happening. It was not in her nature to submit to anybody. She had always felt it showed a sign of weakness. But Xena found herself unable and unwilling to do or say anything to stop the bard. She quickly realized that it would take greater strength to allow Gabrielle to take her. To take her fully to a place she had never ventured.

Xena felt the pressure of the whip handle slowly and steadily press into her, and watched mesmerized as Gabrielle lowered herself to capture her mouth, taking possession of her, body and soul. It was in those last fleeting moments, before all rational thought fled, that Xena realized, 'And still she follows.'

The End

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swordince · 1 year

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in the years leading up to the events of revelations, adam was always grateful for the power that being he-man granted him ; it only ever brought peace to his mind to know he had the strength to help his people & to protect those in need. he knew that it was a serious responsibility & that he not only could & should but must use the power he was chosen to wield for the good of eternia. however, he could not help but feel that, as important as his role was, he was actually rather useless. he-man may have been one of the strongest warriors in the universe, but “adam” was simply the cowardly prince who ran off at the first sign of danger & let others do the fighting while he just sat around in hiding until the battle was over ; eternia didn’t so much need him, adam, as it did him, he-man. yes, they’ve always been both the same person, but none but a spare few knew this, & each time he rushed off to transform he could feel his father’s disappointment in the “adam” for his perceived cowardice. he was supposed to be a prince, one who’s meant to become king one day, & it’s hardly befitting of one to run from an enemy, which is all anyone who didn’t know of his other identity could see. being pitied & looked down on was a small price to pay for the continued safety of those he holds dearest, but part of him rather resented it, & he didn’t like the idea that the best he could really do was suck it up. adam took every opportunity that didn’t necessitate calling for he-man to use as a chance to prove himself in the slightest, but it never felt like enough. he really needed his father owning up to his folly, speaking aloud that he loved & was proud of his son. it’s all he ever really wanted.

#now as this Is a repost #i wrote all but the final two sentences Way before motu:r came out #lemme tell ya. pure-instinct-driven adam being Furious with randor & only cracking when randor finally apologized for being a bad father????#extremely good fucking food #couldnt have written it better myself #ooc. what's going on ?#study.

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mandos-sluts · 3 years

Text

The Visit

This is Part One of a three-part series

The Visit Part Two

The Visit Part Three

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut, dubious consent, fingering, dirty talk, mentions of sex work

Summary: You are Luke Skywalker’s Padawan, training directly under him at his Jedi Academy. Din Djarin is staying at the compound for a few days to visit Grogu.

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!! Also we love feedback <3

“What does he look like?”

“He’s a Mandalorian. Big silver shiny armor. Can’t miss him.”

*************************************

Boy was he right. You spot Din as soon as you step into the cantina. He’s standing at the bar, leaning over it slightly. His visor catches your eye from across the room, and he stares at you for a while, looking you up and down, before turning his head back to the bar. He’s never seen someone so beautiful in this parsec before.

Your Master, Luke Skywalker, told you to meet Din at the cantina and escort him to the Jedi Academy. Luke had similarly informed Din that he was sending his Padawan to rendezvous.

You know all about Din Djarin. You know his whole deal with Grogu and the Darksaber, and his run-ins with the Empire and the Guild. The story of his miraculous rescue of Grogu made its way around the school after Luke brought the child back to the Academy.

The cantina that you’re at is located in the town that lies right outside the Jedi Academy compound. It’s a place that many students go to blow off steam and hang out.

You find yourself surprisingly nervous as you walk up to the tall intimating Mandalorian. “Excuse me.” You say.

“Not interested.” He says shortly without even looking at you.

”What?” You asked, confused.

“I said I’m not interested.”

“Not interested in what?”

”Your services.”

”My services?” You don’t understand. Is he wanting to travel to the grounds by himself? That’s not an option....he wouldn’t be permitted on the estate without an escort. Didn’t Luke tell him of this arrangement?

Din exhales, clearly annoyed, and finally turns to look at you. “Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not looking for a whore.”

You stand there, completely dumbfounded, your mouth slightly open from shock. A whore? What the fuck?!!

In his defense, you are wearing a rather skimpy-looking outfit. You have on what is essentially a tennis skirt and a bandeau; it’s the hot season on the planet. Even so, this guy is an asshole.

You take a breath and put a fake smile on your face. “My apologies….Din Djarin.” You say in a suggestive manner. Turning around to leave, Din whips around and grabs your upper arm tightly, yanking you closer to him.

“How do you know that name?” Din loudly whispers in a demanding, low voice.

You’re not stupid, you know that his name is known only by a few. “My industry has very skilled people.” You respond, hoping he will get the hint that you are in fact not a sex worker, but actually the person he’s supposed be meeting.

”Are you telling me your brothel somehow got a hold of my name?” Din is pretty pissed. Is this what he gets from doing dealings with Jedi? His name gets leaked to brothels?

You let out a sigh as your eyes roll. You snatch your arm out of his grasp and move swiftly out the door into the street. What a jerk. This guy can find his own way to the compound.

Din tries to follow you, needing to know how a random whore got his name, but the streets are pretty crowded.

”Oh, Mr. Djarin!” Din hears someone say. He looks over his shoulder and sees Luke Skywalker approaching him.

“H-hi, Master Skywalker.” Din says, deciding to give up on his pursuit of you, after all, that’s not the reason he’s here.

“I’m surprised to see you here, did my Padawan not pick you up?” Luke asks.

“No. He never showed.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that. Let me take you to the Jedi Temple.”

************************************* You hear your Master’s voice and footsteps nearing the empty lounge you’re sitting in. It’s a pretty big, dark lit room. There’s a conference table on one end, and an arrangement of couches and chairs spread across the place. It’s always empty, and you often use the area to meditate or exercise or just hang out. You pretend to look busy, eager for what’s about to occur.

“It is strange that my Padawan did not show up to greet you.” You hear Luke say behind the wall. He pokes his head around the door. “Ah, here she is.” He says walking into the lounge.

She? Din walks a few feet behind Luke. He turns the corner and walks through the door, freezing in his footsteps as soon as he lays eyes on you. There you are, the woman who approached him at the cantina….Luke’s Padawan.

You stare into his visor with a smug half smile on your face and slowly rise from your seat. You’re reveling in how taken aback he clearly is.

“Y/n, this is Din Djarin. I thought we discussed that you’d meet him at the cantina and escort him to the Academy? He says you didn’t show.” Luke says innocently as he stands between you and Din.

“Oh. I did go to the cantina. I guess I missed you.” You say slowly with your eyes locked on his helmet. “My apologies, Din Djarin.”

Din clears his throat. “Um n-no worries at all.” He chokes out. Shit! Din can’t believe he called you a whore. How did he not see the laser sword on your hip?

“Alright, well I’m gonna get to my meeting. Y/n, show Din around, alright?” Luke says.

“Of course Master.” You say with a slight bow of your head. You plant your gaze back on Din’s helmet as it rotates to watch Luke exit.

He slowly turns his look back to you, staring at him confidently with your hands on your hips.

“I’m sorry.” He says flatly through his modulator.

“For being such an asshole?” You say tilting your head.

“Yes. And assuming you were a prostitute.”

“There’s nothing wrong with sex workers. I’m not offended that you mistook me for one.” You say. But….why does it kind of turn you on that he thought you were a whore? Ugh and why does it turn you on that he is such a jerk??

There’s an awkward pause as you both stand there examining each other.

“So, you’re also a…Pawa-don?” Din asks, trying to fill the quiet. He has never been uncomfortable with silence before, in fact, he more often than not preferred it. But right now for some reason he feels different.

“Padawan.” You correct him. “And yes.”

“So are you doing the same training as the kid?” He further probes.

“Kind of. Grogu is more in the elementary stages of training. His focus is mainly on developing and fine-tuning his sensation with the Force. Most of my training nowadays centers around my lightsaber mastery and combat.” You inform him.

“Hm. Wonder when you’ll be good enough to battle me.” Din says casually as he takes a breath.

“What?” You ask.

“I said I wonder when you’ll be good enough in combat to put up a fight against me.”

Is he serious? Is he trying to provoke you? Even after the predicament he just found himself in with you? “Ha….um….I was good enough to fight you years ago.” You declare

Din looks at you for a moment. “I’m a Mandalorian.” He says simply.

“.....”

“The Mandalorian who wields the Darksaber. So you’re either overestimating your own ability or underestimating mine.”

You take a deep breath and take a step closer to him. “I know most people think that Mandalorians are the greatest warriors in the galaxy, but that’s because they don’t know of the Jedi Order. My connection with the force gives me strength that you will never know, that you will never be able to comprehend.”

Din takes a step closer to you. “That may be, but I have decades of combat experience that is simply unmatched by you, not to mention the most imperishable armour in the galaxy.”

“So what I’m hearing is that you would like to duel.” You say as you remove your saber from its holster and activate its blade. It’s a light lavender color, thin and sleek.

“That’s cute.” Din says. “Just a reminder, little girl. You were given that light saber. I won mine in battle.” He proclaims as he detaches his saber from his belt. *see gif*

“I made it. But fair point. Now enough talk, Mandalorian, are you ready to duel or what?” You say as you get into a battle stance.

Din holds his hand out. “If, by some miracle, you do happen to overpower me, don’t touch the saber. Bo-Katan is already mad enough that I have it, I can’t imagine what she’d do if a non-Mandalorian gets their hands on it again.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m well aware of the bizarre way that the ruler of Mandalore is chosen.”

“Alright then, princess, I won’t hold back.”

You feel heat rush through your core at those words. Princess. He won’t hold back. Uggh... focus! This guy has been demeaning you since the moment you met him, show him how powerful you are!

*************************************

You and Din battle for a good seven minutes, the two of you are pretty evenly matched, neither one of you gains the upper hand for very long. Just as you’re feeling your strength falter, you’re able to knock his saber out of his hands, and you push him onto the ground. Din tries to get up and reach for his saber but you plant yourself on top of him, straddling him. He looks up at you in defeat.

He takes a deep breath as you stare down at him. That’s when you notice the tent in his pants. You’re sitting on his legs so that his bulge is right above your crotch.

Adrenaline is pumping through your veins from your victory and a smile stretches across your face. “I have another quality that puts me at an advantage that I forgot to mention: your attraction to me and your primal desire to fuck me.” You say as you slowly place your hand on top of his clothed erection. You lean down and bring your face close to his helmet. “I bet your face is just bright red underneath this helmet of yours. Not only did you lose the battle, but your urges got the best of you.” You say in a condescending tone.

Din stares up at you, his chest moving up and down as he breathes.

“That’s where you and I differ.” You say. “A real warrior has self-control and self-restraint.”

Din moves his hands to your thighs and runs them up to your hips. “Who said I was trying to restrain myself?” He says in a raspy voice.

You’re a little caught off guard. You were teasing him, and this was not the reaction you were expecting. You thought he’d be embarrassed, you thought he’d want to get out of this situation as soon as possible.

“Face it.” You say after a pause. “You can’t repress your arousal, and your lack of self-control is a disadvantage to you.”

Din’s hands are still on your hips, and he pulls you up his body ever so slightly. “So since you have such great self-control, your panties wouldn’t happen to be wet right now, would they?” He inquires in a low, sultry voice.

You’re taken aback at his shameless words. “O-of course not.” You stutter as your confidence recedes.

“Let me see.” He demands flatly.

“What?” Did you hear him right? Your heart beat is pounding, you can’t tell if he’s joking around with you or not like you were doing with him.

“I said let me see.” Din says moving his gloved hands to the bottom of your skirt. “C’mon, pull this short little skirt up just a tad more and show me that your panties are dry.”

“N-no I–”

“Fine.” Din cuts you off. “I’ll do it myself.” He says as he removes one of his gloves. He then moves his bare hand under your skirt up to your pussy, easily pushing the thin panties you're wearing aside and planting two fingers inside your sopping wet folds.

You jerk at the contact of his soft skin on your sensitive pussy. “Din!” You exclaim. You grab his hand, but don’t move it.

Din chuckles. “Looks like you don’t have as much self-discipline as you claim.” He brings his other hand and cups your cheek. “Awwww, your face is just bright red right now.” Din mocks.

“W-whatever, you still lost.” You say out as you’re overcome with humiliation.

“Mmmmm. Congratulations.” Din says lazily as he removes his hand from your cunt and grabs your hips once again. “So, y/n. You showed me how Jedi fight. Let me show you how Mandalorians fuck.” He says as he pulls your hips and grinds you against his bulge.

Your panties are still pulled aside and the friction of his clothed erection against your clit makes you whimper.

“You– you wanna fuck me?” You ask hesitantly.

“Ha. Of course I wanna fuck you. Look at you.” He says as he lifts you off of him to stand up. Standing tall, he towers over you and brings his non-gloved hand to your chin, pulling it up gently to meet his gaze.

The unexpected and prompt shift in the power dynamic has you all turned around. Just moments ago, your confidence was through the roof. You were giddy claiming your victory against him, making fun of him for getting a boner during a duel. But the tone between the two of you has completely changed. He has you weak and timid, he’s looking down at your wide doe eyes as if you’re his prey.

“Come on, little Padawan. Practicing self-control is great, but let me show you what it’s like to lose all control over yourself.” Mando says as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. “Cuz I would just love to tie you up and have my way with you.” He mutters. Dins hands slide down to your butt as he gropes your flesh, pulling you flat against him. “Let down your guard for just a moment and let me show you how rewarding it can be.” Din slips his bare hand back under your skirt to find your cunt even wetter than before. You let out a whimper and bat your eyes at him.

He starts slowly circling your clit, and moves his other hand up to caress your cheek softly. “Come on.” He whispers in your ear. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

High-pitched breaths are escaping your lips as he gently runs his thumb up and down your cheek bone.

“Can– can you not–” you breathe, sliding your hands up his chest.

“What. What is it?”

You pause for a moment. “Can you not be so gentle with me?” You say with slight embarrassment.

Din scoffs, “Oh baby girl, you’re gonna regret saying that.” He says as he grabs a fist full of your hair and roughly pulls your head back, exposing your delicate neck to him.

This harsh action sends shocks to your pussy. “Didn’t you say something about tying me up?” You purr with a slight smile, looking up into his visor.

“So I was right about you being a filthy fuckin whore.” Din spits as he shoves a finger inside of you, his thumb rubbing against your clit.

“Y-yeah, but only for you.” You whine as your eyes fall closed and high-pitched moans begin escaping your lips.

“Ohh that’s right baby.” Din praises. He’s so turned on by the way you’re speaking and responding to his touch, and he loves the impact he has on you. How you so quickly went from a confident fighter when he lost to you, to a shy little girl when he started teasing you, to a dirty slut once he got his hands in your panties.

He starts pumping his finger faster and you can hear the lewd noises your obscenely wet pussy is making. Your mouth opens even more with your moans becoming more pronounced and your back arches. You’re standing pressed flat up against him, he’s basically holding you up on your toes with one arm as his other hand drives into your cunt.

You can feel your orgasm just beginning to climb when you suddenly hear a beep on your watch’s intercom. It jolts you back to reality.

“Y/n, are you at the lounge? I’m heading back there now.” Your Master says through the intercom.

“Shit.” You say as you push Din’s chest, pulling yourself off of him. “I should have shown you to your accommodation by now.” You say as you frantically start looking around your feet for your saber. By the time you grab it and look up for Din, he has already made his way out the back exit.

You attach your saber to your hip as you try to steady your breathing, disoriented from the abrupt conclusion of whatever it was you were doing with Din. You hear Luke’s footsteps approaching as you quickly try to put your panties back in place, growling at how soaked they are. You’re praying that your Master doesn’t notice the wetness that has been smudged on your inner thighs.

*************************************

You cannot believe what you did with Din. No one has ever done anything like that to you before. You get hit on all the time— you’re gorgeous— but you are almost never interested enough to give them the time of day. But Din? He had his fingers in your pussy after knowing you for ten minutes. How did he do that!?

It’s the early evening. You lie in your bed visualizing the events over and over again, heat pooling in your core as you replay the dirty things he said to you.

While it fuels your arousal, you also feel uneasy about the interaction. He left so quickly, and he left without saying a word to you, almost like nothing had happened. You hope that Din doesn’t think less of you, that he doesn’t think you’re some hussy who is easily persuaded into letting guys she just met finger fuck her.

You are pulled away from your anxious thoughts when you hear your intercom going off. It’s your friends talking about what they’re doing tonight. You don’t really care to pay attention, but you sit straight up in your bed when you hear something about that “Mandalorian who’s visiting the Academy,” and how he’s “at the cantina in town.”

You jump out of bed and without even thinking, you grab a sweater and head toward the parlor.

Your heart is beating on the chilly walk there. You hope he’s surprised to see you, you hope he’s excited to see you. You’re gonna act casual, yeah, like you didn’t even know he was there. No big deal! You’re just going to the cantina to hang with your friends. And then you see eachother, and bing bang boom, you guys are back in your room fucking while he calls you his little slut. Yes. This is gonna go great.

It’s a Friday night and the cantina is bustling. People are dancing, drinking, and gambling. It’s so loud that you can barely hear yourself think. As you make your way through the rowdy crowd, you spot Din’s helmet over the hordes of people. He is sitting in a somewhat secluded booth in the corner of the restaurant.

You proceed a few steps forward, lightly pushing people to get through the crowd, and then, your heart drops. He’s not sitting alone. There’s a girl, a woman, a sex worker, wrapped in his arm.

You stand there for a moment as everything goes quiet, you stare at Din and the beautiful woman in a tight short dress sitting beside him. She’s talking to him, saying things into the side of his helmet as he sits there looking forward with his arm casually draped around her, man spreading and all.

Din’s head turns and that’s when he notices you, standing there among the crowd of people in that same short high waisted skirt and a cropped sweater of the same color.

You feel something fall deep in your chest as you realize that he sees you. You blink a few times as the rest of your senses come back, humiliation and embarrassment overcoming you as you quickly turn around and stumble out of the bar.

You make your way into the dark street and take a few deep breaths before running back to the Academy. You're fighting off tears as you feel the cold air pinching every bit of your exposed skin.

You can’t believe that you let yourself become smitten by someone who was such an asshole. He mistook you for a whore, he insulted your combat skills, he pressed you to let him fuck you! You should have expected this.

A tear rolls down your cheek. Why did you think he liked you? He didn’t. He didn’t like you. And he didn’t want to fuck you, he just wanted to fuck someone, and you were the closest one to him. You let him use you. He must do this kind of shit all the time with women, you were nothing special.

You get back to your room and bury yourself under your covers, wanting to escape so badly from this reality.

TO BE CONTINUED

The Visit Part Two

The Visit Part Three

*************************************

Masterlist

*************************************

Taglist:

@pinkninja200 @raspberrymama @stevie75 @tacticalsparkles @kenoobiwan @shark-s @theamuz @blackrose8425 @beskarboobs @beskarboobs @smutslutz @princess-djarinn @spideysimpossiblegirl @riot-rotten

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ereawrites · 3 years

Text

Hush

reiner braun x reader

warnings: smut

wc: 8.4k

summary: reiner comes home, even if part of him doesn’t. who can blame you for wanting to offer him some comfort against all the fucked-up things he’s been through?

Late summers in Marley come with a dry, constant heat, the kind that lasts well into the night. After so many months of sun warming your room, even the stone walls can't keep it cool - you've never been good at sleeping in a hot room, and that's the excuse you use to forgive sneaking away to Reiner again. It's selfish. You're distracting him from the war, you worry, for the sake of a little comfort for him and a little peace for yourself. You shouldn't do it, but you do.

"You can't tell the others that I'm doing this.", he whispers against your bare collarbone, exposed by your own shaking fingers that have undone the first three buttons of your uniform. You try to guide his face back up to yours with a hand cupping his jaw. Reiner leans into your touch, but he doesn't move, instead pressing his forehead against the curve of your shoulder. A shaky breath tickles your skin, and it tells you everything you need to know.

When he first came home, no one saw him for weeks, not even the servants who took meals to his room - you caught them in the corridors, of course you did, if only to ask after the wellbeing of a comrade. Pieck eventually pulled you aside and told you, with pity shining in dull eyes, that they were putting him through tests. Psychological evaluations. From what she had left unsaid, you supposed that they were testing his loyalty more than his wellbeing. They decided that he was their most loyal warrior, and they rewarded him with more battles to fight.

Now, trembling beneath you, in a chair hastily shoved back from the desk in his room, you can see for yourself that Reiner is fractured. He's strong - so strong, not broken, not yet - but he is struggling and he is alone, even months later. You smooth your palms over the taut muscle of his shoulders. "I won't, I swear - no one even knows I'm here.". You've been sneaking to his quarters for months; only to speak, at first, to let him know that he doesn't have to bear the burden of Paradis quite so alone.

Although, to be fair, you've never went so far as to straddle him in a chair. You don't know how it happened, really. You had started off perched on the edge of his desk, and one second you were reaching out to cup his cheek -already too far, presuming too much and breaking too many rules in the name of comfort - and the next thing you knew, you were on top of him.

His voice is so small. "They can't know. They already think I'm weak, I- I am, I am weak, you can't-"

This time, you tilt his face up with insistent fingers under his chin. Even after everything, his brown eyes are still the same: sadder, maybe, and crinkled at the corners with a frown, but filled with the very same gentleness he's always regarded you with. "You're not weak, Reiner. You've been through so much, and you're still here, and you've been so brave. It's okay to let yourself feel things - right here, right now, okay? That doesn't make you weak, or selfish."

Reiner closes his eyes as if he's in pain. "...I'm selfish for doing this - being here. I should be out there in the field instead of letting my heart distract me again."

Again, he says, and it sends a jolt through your gut. They never let you find out what happened on the island - Reiner isn't ready to tell you, and you don't know he ever will be - but you're beginning to realise that the man beneath you is being torn apart by the things that happened to him, and the things he did, and the things he's doing now.

"Rei,", you say gently, tracing your thumb over his lips as you lean your forehead against his. "If you don't want me here, I'll go back to my room, and we don't have to speak about it again... Just say the word."

He sighs. For a moment, you think he's going to ask you to leave. As much as you want to believe that you're only here for him, only here to support him and do what he needs, you'd be lying to yourself. Your heart sinks. He picks it back up again with his hands coming to rest on the curve of your waist. "I do want you."

And you're going to tell him that you want him too, but all of a sudden he's kissing you.

Your body reacts before your mind can even catch up: you thread your hands into hair that's more grown out than he usually keeps it, all the way down to his nape, half pulling him closer and half pressing yourself further into him. Reiner lets out another small sigh, deep in his throat. The sound makes your knees go weak - god, you like him so much, too much, perhaps he's not the only one being selfish here - and your legs sink down until your weight is resting solely on his thighs. His hands instantly fly to splay over your back, one between your shoulders and the other just above your ass, and his palms are so big that he's anchoring you against him without even trying.

"I want you,", he repeats between kisses, "So much. For so long."

Something possesses you to slip your tongue into his mouth. You shouldn't do it - you should let him set the pace because this is about him, and - who are you really kidding? He holds you as if he's scared you'll leave, and you kiss him harder. For a few moments, you don't think about anything other than how good his mouth feels on yours, nothing at all. Every time you run your hands over his shoulders, he shudders as if you've sent an electric shock through him.

Reiner breaks away for air and you nearly whine - so embarrassing, but you realise you don't actually give a fuck. There's something in his eyes that seems scared. Scared you'll leave, or scared you don't want him. You're about to kiss him again before you register the faint taste of whiskey on your tongue. "You've been drinking?"

"A few hours ago. I thought you weren't going to come tonight. Helps me stop thinking about you so much.", he admits with a low voice. The expression on his face is almost nervous, as if he's worried you're going to be angry with him about it, but the confession has your heart racing faster than it has any right to. This is about him, you remind yourself; you're glad that his hair is longer now, because you can tug gently on it, making him tilt his head back and expose the column of his throat. It bobs with a thick swallow when you press the first soft kiss to the hollow beneath his Adam's apple. You don't reply to his words. You honestly don't think you can without crying.

There's no need to rush this. Your body screams for you to, but you've been harbouring these impossible feelings for the man underneath you for months - since before he left Marley, if you're to be truly honest - and you need to savour this and he needs gentleness. Slow, chaste kisses peppered across his neck, his jaw, even his shoulders through the material of his shirt. You ghost your nails down his nape and revel in the way his breath hitches slightly. Somewhere along the way, you realise just how closely you're pressed up to him: your chest is pushed hard against his, hips almost flush, and he's still holding you close. There's a tenderness in the embrace that makes your heart hurt all over again.

"Is this okay?', you ask - Reiner's breaths are coming slow and deep, and you can't get rid of the nagging concern that this might quickly become overwhelming for him. "Are you okay?"

He tips his head back down to level his gaze with yours, and the warm brown of his irises has all but melted away into the black of his pupils. "I want to... touch you."

"You can do anything you want to me, Rei.", your mouth says of its own accord, and you still really don't give a fuck about how shameful your lack of control is, because his grip tightens, and he makes a face like you've stabbed him. You're compelled to wipe the expression away with a quick, hot kiss, just barely dipping your tongue into his mouth before pulling away again. "Anything to make you feel good again."

It's a struggle to wrap your fingers around his thick wrist, but you just about manage it, and guide his hand up to the next button of your shirt. It isn't trembling so much now. The slightest tremor, still, but you half-suspect that's due to the careful, gentle awe that you see glinting in his eyes. Reiner mumbles your name as he starts to fumble with the button. "I don't think I'll be able to stop myself after this."

"I don't want you to.", you reply quietly. Quickly, you come the realisation that Reiner's struggle with the button must have been feigned for your comfort, because he has it - and the next one - popped open before you can even gasp in a quick breath. His lips chase his fingers, so, so soft, trailing down each new piece of skin he exposes (when did you start burning up?) and you find that you push back up on your knees instinctively; high enough for his mouth to be able to reach the space between your breasts and, god, it sends fireworks shooting up your spine.

You hardly pay attention to the last few buttons of your shirt being undone - Reiner's lips on your chest see to that, kissing slowly, almost reverently, around the curve of your chest, just underneath each breast and then back up to your collarbones. It's only now that you recall your decision not to wear a bra. It was already late when you left your room, past midnight, and you couldn't afford to be seen sneaking around looking as though you were dressed to actually go somewhere.

Besides, Reiner has never been disrespectful to you in any way, never leered at you like some of the other men in the compound. A simple cotton button-up and slacks had seemed the obvious choice. A bolt of worry flashes to the forefront of your mind: what if he thinks you only came here for sex? He means so much more to you than that, you don't want him to think-

His hands ground you. One has slipped beneath the material to rest on your bare waist. He's just brushing the skin, and he's staring at your lips, and he looks as if he's terrified and in awe and maybe something else, all at once. The fingers of his right hand play with the edge of your shirt. He has callouses on the pads of his fingers - a lifetime of too much work and not enough gentleness. This is about him, you remind yourself. You nod, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and then another, and he starts to slip the shirt away from your body.

Reiner whispers, "You're beautiful." against your neck before he's even looked at you. "So beautiful. Sometimes I think you're an angel." An already weak protest dies in your throat when he dips his head to start kissing your neck - real kisses this time, warmer and faster and with a hint of tongue, and although it pains you so much to release your grip on his hair, you do it so that your shirt can fall forgotten to the floor. "Too good for someone like me."

Hushing him comes easily, even if hearing his words is hard - you've spent months trying to soothe him and help him with words, so maybe now is the time to show him with actions instead. Reiner is the one who's too good for you, too good for this world in fact, a world that has done nothing but abuse him. You have to stop thinking and start feeling, both of you. He actually makes a tiny grunt of protest when you push his face away from your neck in order to peel his shirt away. It's selfish, you know, to run your palms up his abs and chest when you do it, just as it's selfish to stare shamelessly at his arms when he raises them to tug the shirt over his head, but Reiner catches you doing it and, for the first time in weeks, he smiles.

"You're beautiful too, Rei. I've thought so for a long time.", you say into a kiss that's already started. His hands are at your hips and your arms are wrapped around his neck, you're so close to him it hurts, so close you feel every last bit of self-control slipping away; he pulls you closer, kisses you harder, lets your tits press up against his bare chest. You kiss him until your lips are swollen and you're panting for air. No one's ever made you feel like this: so safe and whole and damn hot with just a little kissing.

Then, you adjust yourself in his lap, and you feel that he's half-hard in his pants. Honestly, you doubt your own underwear is in a much better state. Still, you can't help the way your breath hitches: Reiner's jaw tightens, probably because of the inadvertent friction, but you feel the heat spreading over your cheeks. You both want this, of course you do, but it's still shocking to feel the evidence of his arousal. And that's without even thinking about how big the bulge felt in that one little instant.

Reiner tugs you backwards by the hips and you're scared that he's become overwhelmed. He steadies you as soon as your ass is resting further down on his thighs, though - the loss of skin-to-skin contact draws a small whine from you - and starts kissing down your neck again, leads your hands to support yourself on his shoulders, and now his hands are on your tits. It starts off fairly slow. Not quite as gentle as before but the reverence is still evident. An angel, he said, and he touches you like you are one. He claims to be a monster but he treats you so well: licking at your collarbones and kissing your neck, swiping those calloused thumbs over your nipples until they harden, pinching so gently and just right, making the breath shoot out of you in a shuddering moan. The scolding he gives you sounds entirely absent. "Got to stay quiet, sweetheart. No one can know you're here."

"I-", forced to bite your lip when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, "Sorry. I know. Just - feels good."

"It's what you deserve."

God, Reiner makes you totally weak and he doesn't even seem to know it. His voice is quiet as ever. You always have to speak lowly when you're here, in case someone hears and they keep you from seeing him again - but it's dropped so low, and it's got just the littlest bit of rasp to it. He sounds desperate. You're pretty sure you can actually feel the dampness in your underwear now. Torn between sitting there and letting him play with your nipples for hours, and just unbuckling his belt right now and riding him in his desk chair, you're so close to becoming overstimulated and simply melting into his arms, but he makes the decision for you.

The way he leans even further down to wrap his lips around one nipple must be uncomfortable for him, he's so tall, taller than you even when you're sat on top of his thighs like this - he must enjoy it, though, because he groans lowly as his tongue swirls around it. You nearly have to clap your hand over your mouth to stifle a moan, and he clearly knows you're going to need extra support staying up, because his now free hand slides around to hold the base of your bare back. "Oh my God-", you hiss. You're almost certain you feel him smile again.

"Rei. Is it okay if I...", you manage to pant out, gesturing to the zipper of your slacks, after a few more minutes of indulgence - after seemingly being satisfied with the attention he gave one breast, he had switched to the other, making practically inaudible noises each time your hips canted against his broad thighs. One day, if he lets you do this again, maybe you'll ask him to let you get off on the hard muscle of his quads. You'd like to feel his arms around you as you fall apart.

His fingers slip just below your waistband. They're so, so close to where you need him, and your body is so hot, and Reiner's must be too because his pecs are starting to glisten with sweat. "Please.", as if he's on the verge of breaking with how much he wants you - it would sound conceited to believe, but you see the way he's looking at you, you feel the way he's touching you. It wouldn't be fair to deny him of the only emotion he's allowed himself in a long time.

Of course, he waits for you to nod your consent. Those warm, fractured, black-brown eyes swallow you up so much that your whole body is set ablaze as he slowly undoes the button of your trousers. You at least had the good sense to wear acceptable underwear, although you suspect Reiner will want that gone, too. He's seeming to grow harder with every bit of bare skin he manages to touch. As he drags the zipper down at a pace much too slow for your liking, he murmurs, stand up for me, sweetheart.

You do, in the space he makes for you between spread thighs, and the thought of being away from him right now is so unbearable, that you press your knees up against the chair to keep the closeness. Reiner looks up at you for a moment, cheeks a little red and lips a little swollen, before his eyes are on your body and your trousers are being tugged gently over the curve of your ass. The heat in your stomach grows even more intense when you literally see his mouth drop open at the sight of your underwear, and he blushes harder when your thighs are exposed; you're tensing them together to relieve some of the pressure, you realise, but Reiner's easily strong enough to get past that. He even leans down to caress your calves as he pushes the slacks the rest of the way off.

"I would have dressed up for you a little more, if I had known this was going to happen.", you half-giggle. It's been a long time since anyone has seen you like this. You're not exactly ashamed of the fact that there's most definitely a damp spot on your underwear - one that Reiner hasn't noticed, too preoccupied with kissing your lower stomach and squeezing your thighs - but it's an intense feeling, finally being in a moment that you've tried so hard to stop imagining. Reiner huffs a small laugh in return against your abdomen.

"You're stunning. In anything.", he says, just before he lays a kiss to your pussy through the material of your underwear. He must feel the wetness because he groans, too loud, and then he licks. You gasp. Even that small action feels so much better than your own fingers ever have. Visions fill your head: sitting on the edge of his desk, watching him eat you out, those huge hands holding your hips in place until the skin bruises, those beautiful eyes staring up from between your legs - he twines his fingers into yours, and brings them to the waistband of your underwear. You catch the hint right as he leans back into the chair again.

Stripping in front of him puts a lump in your throat. Rei is kind but he's huge, especially when he's spread out in his chair like that, with a sweat-slicked broad chest and thick thighs and a bulge that you worry might actually tear through his trousers, and you feel so vulnerable to do this just in front of him, where he can reach out and swallow you up at any moment. It's so incredibly hot. There's no need to put on a show. He watches you as though you're the most beautiful thing in the world anyway. You do it for him regardless, though, as well as you can. You take it slow, being sure to drag your hands over your thighs in a way that feels silly and sensual all at once. When the lace reaches your knees, his hand is there next to yours, and you take it for balance as you step out of your underwear completely.

"Fuck...", he remarks under his breath. His thumb traces absent circles over the back of your hand while he drinks in the sight of you. Perhaps it's because of the dim lighting, the room lit only by a few candles and a lamp in the corner, but you feel like he looks at you too hard, for too long, for someone who isn't supposed to care about you. Your stomach lurches and you feel your inner thighs begin to become wet. You won't take this from him, or yourself, not when the dark look in his eyes is making your pussy clench like this. He holds your hand the entire time he looks at you. "So pretty. C'mere."

Instantly, you're settling back on top of him. The fog in your mind means you don't even question how compliantly you react to his baritone. His left hand snakes around your back again to hold you steady, and you're not quite sure if your hand guides the other to your inner thighs, or if he does it of his own accord. Either way, he's ghosting calloused fingertips over the damp skin there as soon as you make yourself comfortable. "Ah- please.", you whimper.

Reiner probably doesn't mean to tease you, but you need him, you need something to touch you before you go insane. You plead with him again, saying his name this time, and he swallows thickly. The sound that leaves your mouth when he runs a finger up your slit is pitiful. He responds so well, though, repeating the action a few more times before he pulls his hand away. "You're so wet, god."

His voice is rougher than you could ever have imagined. Another clench of your pussy, and you see his eyes widen at the strings of wetness connecting his thick fingers. Your own tone comes out far too high and shaky. "You just - I can't help it, you make me feel... something, I don't know, I-", and it tapers off into a senseless whine when his fingers start to trace lines over your pussy again.

"Relax, angel. Gonna make you feel good like you deserve, I promise.". The reassurance is murmured between your breasts, where he's licking away the salty dampness rapidly collecting there - Reiner clearly wants all of you, every part of you, just as much as you want him. He keeps up the motion for a little longer, spreading your wetness around, until your clit swells up so much that it catches on his finger every time he passes over it. Each gentle bump drags another stifled gasp out of you. No one can know you're here, no one can know that Reiner's grabbing the flesh of your ass and rubbing your pussy, but he sure as hell doesn't make it easy for you.

This time, he doesn't run his finger straight over your clit. He stops moving as soon as your body reacts to the touch - he's right on the most sensitive part of you, and he presses with the smallest bit of pressure, just enough to have you grasping wildly at his shoulders for something to ground yourself on. You're so worked up that it feels more incredible than you would ever have imagined. He's so perfect and good to you, and he doesn't stop there: he begins to trace slow, steady circles directly onto your clit - your body jerks of its own accord, but his forearm around your waist is big and strong enough to pin your hips in place against his hand.

"Oh- Rei-", you moan. You definitely see his cock twitch. Maybe it's a trick of the light, but you're pretty sure you can see a considerable damp spot forming on his trousers, too.

"God. I always knew you'd sound pretty."

The rasped confession has your hips trying to buck again. Reiner's finger starts to move a little faster. The increased pleasure means you're faced with moaning too loud and getting caught, or finding some other way to occupy your mouth. You're panting when you ask, "You've... thought about doing this?"

"Yeah. Too much. I- I'm sorry-", Reiner admits as he mouths your nipples, sounding hardly sorry at all. You envision him fisting his cock to the thought of you right as his middle finger leaves your clit and pushes inside you to the first knuckle,"-I couldn't help myself, I never can around you."

"Shi- I think about you too.". Mewling, your upper body collapses so it's leaning against Reiner's strong torso, your lips against his temple, his head buried in your neck, his arm keeping you steady as he works his finger into you. Senseless blabbering is all you can manage, spilling your filthy secrets into his ear without an ounce of shame. "When I touch myself. I - oh-", turning your face into his hair when his finger catches on that sweet spot inside you, "- I think about you, I always imagine it's you, your fingers, your cock-"

His finger finally, finally is fully inside you, although Reiner is already eagerly pushing another into you; this one makes you feel the stretch, hot and full in a way that even three of your own fingers can never achieve. Shuddering, another moan of his name, clawing at his shoulders - your body welcomes him even if it's a difficulty, gushing more wetness onto his palm until he starts to scissor his large fingers inside of you, stretching you out until tears are pricking your eyes in protest of how good it feels.

"Wish we could do this where no one else could hear."-and so do you, you want Reiner to know just how good he's making you feel- "You sound so pretty. Do you... think you can take it..?", he mumbles, and you know he's talking about his cock, inside you - two of his fingers have you writhing, so the thought of his cock has your eyes rolling back in your head. He crooks his fingers onto your sweet spot right as you open your mouth, almost like he wants the risk of you being too loud and getting caught.

"Please, Reiner, I want to!", you respond a breathy whine, all of it rushing out of you at once before he can catch your g-spot again. You start to snake a hand into the cramped, hot space between your torsos. All you can think of is how good he'll feel when he's inside you. "Let me-"

"Not yet.", he groans, curling his fingers again, and again, not stopping, and he sounds genuinely authoritative for the first time. Your body goes weak, but you'd stop moving for him anyway. "Come on my fingers first. Wanna get you nice and wet before you take me, okay?"

"Fuck-", you cry. The motion on your most sensitive spot just isn't stopping, he's found where he wants to be - the callouses on his fingers are making the friction even more perfect, especially when he brings his thumb to retrace those slow circles on your clit. He keeps it steady for a few minutes - could be hours, or seconds, all you know is that it feels too good to care - and the pressure inside you is becoming something else. Reiner is taking his time with every motion, but that's exactly what's bringing you to the edge so fast. His fingers are so thick and the pressure on your clit is so good, that's it, you're starting to shake in the kind of way that leads up to an orgasm that makes you go blank in the head. You fold into the way he holds you and you let go.

Rei lets a strained grunt out. "That's it, come on, you're taking it so well. You're dripping onto my leg, that's exactly what I want, my angel.". So wet that he can feel it through his trousers, it's so humiliating and Reiner obviously loves it so much because he groans again when you start to clench on his fingers, picking up the pace of his movements and you can hear how wet you are and it must be all over his bare forearm-

"I'm gonna-", you try to warn him: he coaxes you into it, come on, please and you cum hard.

The behinds of your eyelids go white, or black, you have no way to tell. Your entire body feels weightless, grounded only by his arm around you, and his fingers must keep curling inside of you because the waves of pleasure don't stop, they just keep coming, hitting you until every part of your body is alight and molten for him, and you're very vaguely aware of your own hand covering your mouth. It takes longer to come down from it than it's ever taken you.

Then again, no one has ever ripped an orgasm that strong out of you.

"Are you okay?", Reiner asks. His fingers are no longer inside. He's rubbing soothing patterns into your inner thighs, and either your thighs are soaked or his hand is; your muscles feel like jelly, but you just about manage to support your own weight again, leaning back so you can look him in the eyes. There's wetness on your cheeks, maybe tears, and Reiner looks at you with clear concern through blown pupils. It's so endearing and sexy that you have to smile. It must relax him, given how he returns it with a soft one of his own - you notice marks on his lower lip, like he bit it to hold back a sound, perhaps.

You kiss him softly to soothe the pain, whispering into his mouth, "Can I have you inside, now, Rei?". His hands come to grip your waist hard. You know how you must sound to him: fucked out after his fingers alone, speech slurred and pitchy from the aftershocks of your orgasm, asking for his cock. And yet, he still waits for you.

"...Are you sure you want me?". You nod in response. He picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, not even letting out a breath of exertion, and your shaky legs wrap instinctively around him as he stands from the chair. For a moment, Rei just holds you there, kissing you with an indescribable, soft kind of intensity, letting you run your hands over the biceps and triceps that aren't even straining with the effort of holding you. His bed is close, but obviously too far away for him, so he places you down onto the edge of his desk. You separate from the kiss, only meaning to glance down to adjust yourself - falling off the desk would be a great way to kill the mood - when you see it.

"Oh - oh my god, the window is open..!"

It makes sense; he knows you don't like a hot room, he's kept his window open in the evenings ever since you told him that weeks ago. Why didn't you check? Everyone else should be asleep by now, but... Porco's room is so close to Reiner's, and if he's somehow awake with his own window open - you move to hop off the desk. Reiner cups your cheek in his hand, drawing your gaze back to him, and suddenly all thoughts about the stupid window disappear.

"It's okay.", he promises. "They won't hear if we're careful. I'm going to be so careful and slow with you, I swear."

God. You look down and you're reminded of exactly why you're so worked up - there is definitely a wet spot on his trousers, he must be leaking for you, and the thought of that cock slowly working you open drives you to start fumbling with his zipper. This is the first time your hands have been near that bulge and they look positively tiny in comparison. You worry if he's going to fit, briefly, but Reiner promised to be careful and you're more than ready for him. Without even bothering to fully remove his slacks and underwear - you just tug them down to his upper thighs - you're met with the full sight of him.

It's so much bigger than you would have thought, even generously, fuck; you're pretty sure your jaw actually drops when it springs free from his underwear, slapping against his taut abdomen. It's long, enough to make your mouth water, with a nice, prominent vein on the underside, but the most impressive part of him is the thickness. Even the head is fat, curved upwards somewhat, and he's leaking so much that a bead of precum rolls down his cock within seconds. You rip your eyes away to look up at him and, somehow, he looks embarrassed. You can't stand to see him like that, not when every part of him is so perfect and handsome, so you wrap your hand around his cock and begin to stroke gently.

Your fingers just barely touch around his girth. His precum slicks your palm, though, making it easy enough to set a nice, slow pace of pumping him, watching how his brow instantly furrows. "Holy shit - ah, use both hands, sweetheart, please -". Reiner doesn't need to ask twice: you spit into your other palm to offer him even more slick, then bring it to join the other, relishing in the choked gasp he makes. Even stroking him with two hands, there's so much of him you can't hold at once.

He's beautiful, you think, with gritted teeth and head thrown back. Right now, you could happily stroke him for as long as he wants, as long as he needs to spill himself all over your hands, but he only grants you a few short moments and a low hiss before he's carefully pulling your hands away.

After a kiss to the knuckles of each hand, he cups the back of your head and leans over you, bringing your back flat against the desk. "Lie back, just like that.", and your legs wrap around his waist without having to be told. There's the briefest flash in his eyes, a feral glint when you tug him closer using your thighs, but then it's gone, and he's tenderly holding your head so it doesn't rest directly on the hard wood of the desk. "Want you to look at me when I'm filling you up, okay? So I know you're okay. Can you do that for me?"

Reiner is going to fuck you, you realise. He really is going to be inside you. This isn't a dream, not the fantasy you have when you're touching yourself after returning to your own room. Reiner is above you, pumping his cock in his fist, staring at your aching cunt as he does it.

"Anything.", you whisper. He dips his head to kiss you once more, then props himself up on his elbow so he can watch your face. The first brush of his cock against your core has your hips bucking, rolling, rubbing yourself up and down his length like a bitch in heat, and he lets you do it, looking into your eyes and smiling when his cock head catches on your hole. Your ankles lace behind his back to pull him down onto you, just as his hips make the first small thrust, and suddenly he's inside you.

It can only be the first inch or so, maybe not even all of the head, but it hurts and you have to bite down on a cry of his name. It hurts and it feels amazing. Nothing has ever stretched you out so much, and you can feel yourself dripping, trying so hard to accommodate him, because your body needs him just as much as you want him; Reiner groans at the first spasm of your walls, much louder than he should be with an open window, but who gives a fuck if Porco hears - it hurts but you nod for him to keep pushing, go deeper, stretch you out around all of his cock.

Reiner begins to pant once he gets the second inch in, going slow for both of your sakes, sweat beading at his temples. "God, you're so - tight-", as he stuffs more into you, watching you whimper and watching your eyes roll into your skull, "-like you're..made for my cock, huh, fuck-"

His voice dissolves into a growl by the end. You roll your hips, all the way up off the desk, and the movement has even more of him inside you. "Oh." You moan, and you think you're tearing up again. Reiner kisses at the edge of your eyes. The sensation is so perfectly overwhelming, the slow drag of his cock as it threatens to split you open, and coupled with the sounds he's making on top of you you're in total bliss.

Both of you go on like that for a while, slowly rolling your hips against each other and stifling noises as well as you can. Marks left on his back by your nails can be hidden, and the red-hot kisses he peppers over your tear-streaked face will fade away. By the time the tight fight has stopped hurting - still intense, maybe too much, but only good - his hips are flush with yours, and he's completely still. His free hand yet again keeps your hips from bucking. You've done it, you realise. You've taken all of his cock and it feels incredible. But he won't move.

Reiner barely starts to speak before you're begging. "Does it feel good-"

"So good, Rei, so fucking good - you can start moving, please."

He doesn't need any further encouragement; the first thrust is shallow, slow, only pulling out a few inches before working his way back into you. Still, when his hips bump against yours again, there's a sharp flash inside of you and he's actually hitting your cervix, fuck, you gasp so loud that he has to muffle it with his tongue in your open mouth. He holds it there for a few seconds before repeating the motion, letting himself fall into a rhythm as you pant and sob into his mouth with each thrust, clutching desperately at his back while every thrust gets deeper. Within a few minutes, he's pulling out almost to the tip each time - only the thick head left to fill you - before slowly, slowly pushing back in.

"You're taking me so well, my angel.", Reiner praises through a ragged breath. Even fucking you slow, he's struggling to contain himself. "You feel so good around me."

"Then, go fa-faster, Reiner, please - I can take it, I promise, just-!"

His hips snap against yours like a gunshot and you're completely filled again in a heartbeat. Your cunt clenches around him as you moan, throwing your head back, and Reiner collapses onto you. His body covers you completely even as he keeps the weight off by leaning on his forearm, letting you feel the drag of your nipples against his skin when he stuffs you with his cock so quick again, he's kissing your jaw and now you have nothing to silence your cries with other than your own hand, heaving for breath through your fingers as he starts to rut into you. The fingers on your hip pull you against him every time he bottoms out, pushing his cock even deeper, and you think you feel him smile against your neck when you gasp, "God, you're so deep."

The faster, frantic pace means that the room is filled with the sound of his skin slapping against yours, especially when you ask him to go harder and stop holding back, Rei, because you can take everything he has to give you. That perfect curve near the head of his length keeps catching on your g-spot - Reiner knows how to find it, he's hitting it too often for it to be an accident, angling his hips just so and matching each of your moans with one of his own. He must get off on watching you come undone underneath him, falling apart on his cock, you think, because you feel him pulse inside you every time you brokenly sob his name.

"This what you need? Am I giving you what you want, huh, sweetheart?", he rasps and it's not demeaning or teasing, he means it, he really means it- "Am I making you feel as good as you deserve?"

A particularly deep thrust has your toes curling at his back. "'S so good, yeah, feels so good, wanted you for so long-"

Your speech is slurring from the shocks of pleasure he's sending through you. Between the jolts to your cervix, the constant pressure on your g-spot, the way his body is rubbing against your clit with each rapid thrust of his hips - his lips on your neck and his grunts in your ear - you're going to cum again, you tell him, and he shoves himself up off the desk to stand upright. The change in position has your legs falling away from his back, and you scramble pathetically to adjust your hips so his cock will be deeper again, but his hands catch your thighs and easily overpower you. Both forearms slip underneath your knees, so your legs are hanging over his arms, and his hands grab either side of your hips to slam you back onto his cock.

"Holy shit- you feel even tighter like this, does that feel good? C'mon, answer me, tell me it feels good, please-"

"Yes!", you sob, and you can't give him any more than that because having your legs raised means he's right on your g-spot: all you can do is stare up at him through bleary eyes and admire how good he looks. His abs clench with every thrust, and his arms look so big holding your legs up like that. God, you're so close, just a little more - you reach down to play with your clit but Reiner pushes your hand away and pleads, "No-" and one of his hands slips around your leg to find it himself. Of course he finds it, you're so swollen for him, and he's rolling it between two fingers before you can clap your palm back over your mouth. You all but squeal his name.

"That's it, sweetheart, that - that's it, fuck, clench around me, please, want you to cum again, wanna feel you cum on my cock-", he says. You just barely hear him through the pounding in your head and the sound of your own desperate panting, and god you want to please him, you'd do anything for him, this is all for him, remember, so even though you don't know if your body can handle it, you nod. You shove your own fingers into your mouth to keep yourself quiet, the ones that he was dripping precum over when you stroked his cock, and you let Reiner slam into your g-spot and rub and pinch your clit until you're coming again.

Reiner doesn't slow down, he doesn't stop toying with your clit, he keeps telling you how perfect you feel when you squeeze him like that - you somehow feel and hear it all even though you can't understand anything other than the fire spreading through your nerves and into your limbs, consuming every part of you as he keeps fucking you - it's so intense that it doesn't last more than a few seconds, it can't, it's too much, you're starting to drool around your fingers when you come down - and then he tells you he's close in the loudest moan you've heard yet, and you're coming again-

You come back to your senses trembling, boneless and crying with pleasure. "Gonna cum for you.", he says, pressing down on where his cock bulges through your stomach. "You did so well for me.", and it takes everything you have to reach out for him. Reiner pushes your legs down to your chest so he can interlace his fingers with yours: you're almost sure you're still coming because your body spasms under him, your throat constricting in a soundless cry, but you don't take your eyes off him. He keeps you safe in his gaze for the final few thrusts, and then he takes your hand down with his as he pulls out, and together you stroke his cock so he can spill himself all over your stomach.

There's so much, you dully register. You don't watch because you're too caught up in his face, how his brow finally relaxes and his lips part so nicely, how he looks so at peace and so happy. You don't watch but you definitely feel his cum on your body. It's all over your stomach and chest by the time he finally stops stroking, finally opens his eyes again. It's strange: he must have fucked you so silly that you think he's looking at you like man in love.

A man in love, and covered in sweat, and exhausted. You smile despite yourself. "'S heavy. Get off."

Reiner lays a kiss to your forehead before doing as you say, leaving you to close your eyes and recover on the desk. He has a washbasin in the corner, you recall, when you hear the noise of water: he must be cleaning himself off. Then, the sound of footsteps, coming back towards you. He sounds tired and hesitant when he says, "...Do you want me to clean you...?"

For some reason, you blush. You've just had sex with Reiner - for his sake, you remind yourself, to let him know that it's okay to feel things again - and yet you're embarrassed over that simple offer. Then again, you only came here tonight to talk, to offer him some comfort on a day that you suspected had been a bad one. Sex is one thing: against the rules, but forgivable, a way for him to get rid of some of his frustrations and get his mind back on the mission. That's what you'll tell them, if they ever come asking. The intimacy of cleaning each other is a different matter entirely.

But no one ever has to know. Neither of you will ever tell the others that you're doing this, right? "Please.", you whisper, and you keep your eyes closed as if it makes it okay. Your brain is still heavy and fogged, but you don't miss how carefully and tenderly he touches you as he wipes you down - such a big man, being so gentle with you even now. You wouldn't blame him for asking you to leave now. In all good sense, this was a mistake, one that neither of you should speak of again, and it's in both of your best interests to move on as fast as possible. He won't have to know when you remember this night when you-

Reiner calls your name, and you reluctantly open your eyes. It's selfish, but you don't want this to end. He must have finished cleaning you and discarded of the washcloth, because he's already changed into a fresh pair of sleep pants, and he's holding up a shirt to you. You take it with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, Reiner. I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have come onto you. I've put you in a bad position and I really am sorry. I won't tell anyone that this happened.". The words pain you to say, but you know that you should apologise, and you give him a sad smile as you pull the shirt over your head. It's only when you catch the scent that you realise that this isn't your shirt - it's his. The questioning look you shoot him when your head pops out is met with a hand offered to you.

"I... meant what I said about wanting you. Not just for sex.", he says, although he looks scared to say it. "You mean more to me than that, you know. You make me feel like I'm more than what I've done. I know it's wrong, but-"

"-it's not wrong!", you blurt, and Reiner's eyes widen like he was expecting you to agree with him. "You are more than what you had to do, okay? I promise. To me, none of that matters, because I know you're a good person at heart. All of us know it."

That little interjection is exactly what you've been telling him for months. This might be the first time he looks as though he's beginning to believe it. You take his hand, smiling as much as you can even though you're still fighting the shame of what you just did, and Reiner says, "Stay here for a few hours - please. You'll sleep better, my room isn't as warm. Go back to your room before wakeup call. No one has to know.". He leads you to the bed and he lets you hold him, and you pretend that you don't hear him crying when he thinks you're asleep, or how he whispers that he thinks he might be in love.

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner braun smut #reiner smut #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #shingeki no kyoujin #snk #snk x reader #snk x you #snk smut #reiner x reader

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Scandal Ch. 3 - Loki x Reader

Summary: You find shelter in the freezing lands of Jotunheim, and surprisingly some new allies. But Loki is already coming after you...

Warnings: Angst

Words: ~1500

A/N: Sorry, this one is a little short.

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

Taglist: @hi-there-x @haloangel391 @misssilencewritewell @babayaga67 @accioremuslupinn @mochimommy2002 @just-someone-who-likes-to-write @damalseer @bethanystan @loser-alert @star017 @nina1800 @queenariesofnarnia @n1fangirlsblog

Only the anchestors keeping watch over you would know just how long you had been resting until your body was eventually able to move again.

As you looked around, you found several pairs of glowing red eyes observing every one of your moves, clashing with the otherwise darkness around you.

You bolted in an upright position, chest waving heavily as your breath was forming a cold mist. Much to your surprise, you were covered in warm furs.

“Worry not” one of them spoke, their body almost inseparable from the icy cave you apparently resided in. “We are a warrior tribe, not warmongers. What do we gain from killing a weak Asgardian noblewoman and their child?”

“Where is he?!” you choked on your own sob, only able to calm down when yet another giant handed the small bundle into your arms.

They seemed to have cared for him while you were unable to, having fed and cleaned the small boy who was still impossible to distinguish from those powerful giants.

“What is his name?” A female of them seeked to know.

You stopped in your tracks at her question. Everything happened so fast, there was no time to think about it until now.

“His...his name is...L-Liam*. Liam Lokison.” The unintended alliteration made you smile. Yes, this was a formidable name for such a little fighter.

“Loki, you say?” A row, deep voice drang to your ears, huffing at hearing the name of your husband.

It is him again - Laufey.

Initially, you wanted to express your gratitude for his benevolent hospitality, but concluded it would be better to not interrupt.

“Loki, you say?” he repeated the name, tone laced with venom pumping through his heart. “That pathetic excuse of a Jotunn?”

What in hel did he just say?!

“No wonder that crossbreed of yours is so pathetically tiny.” Laufey would now eye his grandson with great fascination, even though adverse. “A disgrace, just like his father.”

“Wha- what in the realms are you...talking about?”

You took in a sharp breath,pulling the child deeper into your arms and away from his wary eyes.

The king could only laugh at your attempts, finding this farce absolutely amusing.

“Hilarious”, he scoffed, “I take from your reaction that Odin is still the old, pathological liar.”

The Allfather had expected you to die in this environment before you’d ever find out the truth, and even if not - Odin thought Laufey to be wildly ashamed of his son, and he would never admit that this freak was his child.

And that was where he was wrong.

“He still didn’t tell any of you?” The Jötunn thought back to that day of indescribable loss. First and foremost the war with Asgard and them taking away his power, together with the Cascet of Ancient Winters - and then...

“The man you call the God of Mischief was born on Jotunheim, as Laufeyson” he declared, and the following words made your heart clench dreadfully. “For whyever I deserved such misfortune, my firstborn came into this world as a failure.”

“Our world is harsh and unforgiving” Laufey continued and apparently, none of the folk seemed surprised. “It is an act of mercy to erase the weakest of our kind, since they wouldn’t survive either way.”

“Lies” you hissed - but the proof was right there, in your arms. “You are lying!”

However, deep inside, you already knew that his words were true.

Why?

Not minding the surrounding giants, you began crying from all the weight on your heart - mourning over the fate of your lover.

From his very first day, Loki Laufeyson was doomed. His only birthright was failure, exclusion and resentment, with death’s grip constantly at his throat.

“Then-” Connecting the dots, fear overcame your system. “Why did you help me?”

“Too much blood of Asgardians and Jotunns had been shed.”

Now that you thought of it, they had saved you - cared for Liam, even. Neither had they left you to die, nor tried to harm you or the child in any way.

Odin was really the greatest liar in all of history - for there were no monsters in Jotunnheim. Only a different race of people.

“I have stained my own hands in countless battles against your kind. But we are in dire need of peace, Y/N of Asgard. And your child could be the key.”

Anger began boiling inside of you, thoughts still revolving around how Loki had been lied to for all those years - and for what? Diplomacy? Using him like a tool, to control the Jötunn?

“Loki is Asgardian just as much as you are.” Somehow, the king almost sounded pained at the revelation. “He is unaware of his heritage, taught to despise us from childhood on. There is no way he would connect our two cultures with how much hatred he bears in his heart.”

At first, you felt close to passing out once again - the emotional exhaustion being way worse than what your body could take.

Those past two days were just too much for you: Liam’s birth, his genes, being cast out by your own people - and now, knowing that Loki had been lied to and used, even might be in danger at the hands of his own father?!

“So, you want me to...raise him here?” The thought alone made your insides churn, thinking back to your homeland. “I think I have to decline that generous offer.”

“No, not like that.” Laufey slowly approached both of you, wary to not touch your skin in any way. He signalized the want to touch his grandson, and you allowed it.

Of course, in a primal tribe like that, showing weakness was unforgiveable - especially if you were the king.

Yet you couldn’t really describe why, but somehow you knew that Laufey wasn’t as heartless as it appeared to be. Maybe, back then, he really thought his decision to be best - but now?

Everything you could decipher in his orbs as he touched Loki’s child was remorse, yearning and guilt. The loss of his firstborn was still present in his heart, aware that even though alive, they had grown apart from each other beyond repair.

“You need sunlight and warmth to survive.” Homesickness could also kill you, you knew that much. “We only ask of you for visits during his upbringing, so he can learn our ways and traditions. See both sides of the coin.”

A bridge between worlds, huh?

On the one hand, it was a huge responsibility you would burden on your child - yet you knew that at least learning about his heritage was his birthright.

Never you would allow yourself to dwell on comfortable lies like Odin, just because you didn’t want to be condemned for the past!

You would save Loki, as well as ensure this wonderful child’s future!

“Laufey, my king and inlaw, so it shall be. This child is now part of your tribe, as much as it is Asgardian.”

_____

[Several weeks later]

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Laufey looked down on the Asgardian prince, standing in front of the gates of the Jotunn village.

“I demand on seeing my wife, you dull creatures!” Loki materialized a dagger, threatening to throw it right into the Jötunn’s eye. “Whatever you’ve done to her, I will repay a thousand times!”

Unimpressed, Laufey spoke “I see Odin has taught you his manners. Violent, hotheaded and selfish. No wonder she did not stay with you.”

“I ask you this one last time: Where. Is. Y/N?!”

Without any second thought, the God of Mischief had left in secret, facing the giants all alone without help of his brother or soldiers.

Because your husband was devastated beyond relief.

Without you at his side, the half-god had completely lost his way. All this time since he thought you dead, nothing could save Loki from his own mind.

For weeks, he wouldn’t leave his chambers, sitting in the dark for hour after hour without nourishing his body in the slightest.

He was haunted by how your belongings reminded him of those blissful days of your marriage. Your scent was still present on those now empty bedsheets, fogging his mind and keeping him from much-needed sleep.

The only matter he busied himself with aside from screaming and crying until his throat went sore, were the thoughts of what could be:

Knowing himself responsible for your imminent demise was eating him alive - even if that child wasn’t his, if only he didn’t rush things and would’ve let some time pass, to become clear-headed again as he was now.

Would Loki be able to forgive you and live on, overcome this hardships like so many before?

Most certainly! Because he needed you at his side, more than anything else.

Loki Odinson couldn’t live without the light of his life.

And if there was even the slightest chance of you still being alive, he would claim what was his and start anew.

“Loki, your eyes are wide open, and yet you don’t seem to see the full picture.”

When Laufey refused to descend to the entrance, Loki would immediately teleport himself towards the giant, blade aiming at his throat. “You will answer to your crimes, monster!”

The king was able to repel the attack by grabbing the god’s wrist - yet instead of the incoming pain Loki was expecting, merely his clothing froze into crumbles...

...and his limb turned in a shade of dark blue.

“You’ve grown strong, my son.”

_______

*Liam is a irish name, meaning “strong-willed warrior” or “protector”.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Laufeyson #Loki / Reader #Loki / You #Loki x Y/N #Loki Odinson #Loki Friggason #God of Mischief #Marvel #Disney #Self Insert #Fanfiction #Writing

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asciendo · 3 years

Text

Betrayal

Make it Right Series Chapter 16

Jean was the cocky bastard that walked around like he owned the place. Y/N couldn’t stand so when the time came that you were his sparring partner, you couldn’t wait to teach him a lesson.

Little did the both of you know, that sparring match would be the start of your unexpected relationship with Jean Kirschtein, that will change your life, and the rest of the Scout Regiment forever.

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14/Chapter 15/Chapter 17/Chapter 18/Chapter 19/Chapter 20/Chapter 21

Tag list: @empty-glass-full-of-emotion @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91@princess-peaches1 @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag

The information that Annie was the Female Titan still hasn't sunk in. Despite seeing her body in her glass casket, it was hard for you to comprehend that someone you trained with for three years killed your comrades

Other than that, the events after that were also burning up in your mind as well. How everyone in Connie's village was gone except for one titan that he swears spoke to him.

Another thing was that Krista's real name was revealed, Historia Reiss. Which means she's bound to be the next Queen within the Walls.

That wasn't what was shocking to you though. As you met with Hange and the others, you discovered Reiner and Bertholdt were the other titan shifters, along with Ymir. Your heart sank as soon as the group came to the revelation. You couldn't believe it.

The other Scouts were in disbelief as well, talking about how Reiner was like a big brother to all of them and reminiscing about Berhtoldt's sleeping positions. Jean glanced at you knowing how close you were with Bertholdt. He was angry after finding out Reiner and Bertholdt were spies but his emotions turned to sadness after seeing the look on your face.

As you felt the room, you ran out to the lake and collapsed. You head buried in your hands and you were shaking. You suddenly felt strong arms around you, knowing it was Jean.

"I hate him." Jean said through gritted teeth. He hated both of them. How could they do this after three years of training with all of you? Reiner acted like he would do anything to protect you. Jean saw it with his own eyes how he quickly swooped in to save Armin from the Female Titan. Connie told him about how Reiner almost sacrificed himself to save them at Utgard. Finding out him and Bertholdt were the two spies made his blood boil. But he hated Berthold even more. Jean knew that other than him, you'd rely on Bertholdt. When Jean was assigned to other missions and formations, he was content knowing Bertholdt was with you, knowing he would take care of you.

Jean thought he and Bertholdt had some sort of understanding when it came to you. Jean was usually assigned to another position other than you and you were mostly with Bertholdt. Before parting ways on a mission, Jean would look at Bertholdt and he would nod back at him which gave Jean feel a sense of reassurance that he'd look after you since Jean couldn't be there.

Seeing you in this state, Jean hated Berhtold more than he's ever hated anyone. "Y/N...Don't let him get to you." He whispered, but your head was still buried in your hands. "FUCK!" Jean cursed, he was beginning to feel frustrated at himself, he felt like he didn't protect you from Bertholdt and cursed himself at the thought of you spending so much time with him when he could have hurt you at any moment.

"I swear I'm gonna kill him." Jean muttered and you finally looked up at him. He stopped and wiped the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. "Can you just hold me?" Jean's eyes widened, he's never seen you so vulnerable before. His eyes softened and he snaked his hands around your waist and just held you, in silence.

The next day, you and Jean are on top of the Wall with the others discussing the plan to seal the wall. Suddenly, Reiner calls over Eren and you look over nervously at Jean. You watch from the corner of your eye on their conversation and you can see Eren becoming angry.

Reiner suddenly removes his sling and you place your hand on your blade. There's a look of panic on Bertholdt's face and then he suddenly stares at you. You froze. You didn't know how to react. Bertholdt's gaze suddenly drops as he realized that you knew about him and Reiner.

Suddenly, Reiner moves to capture Eren and Mikasa springs forward. She cuts into Reiner's arms as he defends himself and slicing Bertholdt's neck open. She tells Eren to run as she goes for a killing blow at Bertholdt, but Reiner shoves her from the Wall while Eren watches in shock. The Scouts rush to Eren's aid and Armin tells him to escape, but Eren can only watch helplessly as energy begins to surround the two Warriors. Bursts of energy explode atop the Wall, knocking everyone back as the Armored Titan and Colossal Titan emerge in the chaos.

The Armored Titan takes Eren in its hand while the Colossal Titan grabs Ymir as Historia cries out. The Armored Titan descends Wall Rose with Eren in its grip, and Eren tearfully thinks back to the days of their training together. Bitterly accepting that his two friends are traitors to humanity, Eren transforms into his Titan and lets out a roar as he prepares to battle with Reiner.

There's a sharp ringing in our ear after the blast and you feel heat all over your body. You checked your surroundings and it was full of smoke. There were Scouts hanging from the walls and bodies next you.

You felt an arm grab you and pull you up. "Are you alright?" Jean cups your face and you nod. Looking down, you see that Eren has shifted to his Titan and is fighting Reiner.

Hange commands you to attack and none of you hesitate. Swinging down, you head directly to Bertholdt. Whenever you were near him, the steam he was emitting was too much to come closer to him.

Jean suddenly pulls you away and drags you on top of the wall. Out of nowhere Bertholdt disappeared and all you see is the Armored Titan fleeing with Eren in his grasp and Bertholdt and Reiner on his shoulders.

The expedition to rescue Eren was on its way. You were riding next to Jean. Looking at him, you could tell he was angry. His eyes were darted straight ahead and he was determined as ever to find Bertholdt and Reiner.

Suddenly, you heard rustling in the trees nearby.

"D-did you hear that?" Sasha muttered from behind you. Out of nowhere you heard a scream is heard deeper in the forest, and the Scouts pursue until they come across Ymir's Titan. Connie stops the others from attacking her, asking her where the others have gone.

"YMIR!" Sasha yells but Ymir seems to focused on something else. "Wait..." Armin begins as he starts to realize whats happening.

As soon as Historia appears, Armin starts to panic. "STOP HER!" Armin yells which makes all of you look at him confusion. "YMIR! STOP!" Armin yells as Ymir begins to move.

When Krista approaches, Ymir's Titan lunges at her and catches Krista in her mouth before making a quick escape. The others pursue her, realizing that Ymir's allegiance has changed and they were lured into a trap.

"KRISTA!" You yell as Ymir shuts her mouth and flees. "What's she doing?!" You shout back at the rest. "FUCK!" Jean curses as he speeds up. "FOLLOW HER!" Jean commands and the rest of you follow his lead.

When Ymir nears the edge of the forest, Reiner transforms into the Armored Titan and begins their escape. Bertholdt carrying an unconscious Eren grapples onto the Armored Titan's back alongside Ymir's Titan.

The others watch in disbelief as Eren is once again carried away by the Warriors, but Hannes rallies them into action. The soldiers return to their horses and begin a final pursuit for Eren's rescue.

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issamhysa · 3 years

Text

Love’s Death

Pairing: Bjorn Ironside x Reader (mentioned Hvitserk x Reader)

Warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS, mentions of blood and injuries, angst (?)

Summary: After years of dealing with unrequited feelings, Bjorn comes to a realization.

A/N: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie para tí, bebecita <3

"You shouldn't be here."

Gunnhild's words cut through the thick tension in the grand hall, sharper than the blade of the axe you wielded against them during the battle against the Rus. Though her voice carried a tinge of sorrow, the sheer exhaustion, physical and mental, hid any other emotion the warrior felt.

Deep blue eyes met yours when you looked up from your blood-stained hands. You swore Gunnhild could see right through you, that she could pick apart the indifference you feigned.

Gunnhild was right. You shouldn't be here. You were a traitor. You alongside the Rus against your own.

"And yet, despite everything… Bjorn still wants to see you."

Of course, you knew. You had always known how Bjorn felt about you, and, for some time, you felt the same.

You two met when you came to his aid with Harald and Halfdan, your battle axe strapped to your back. Between constant teasing, shared tankards of ale and hidden compliments, you and Bjorn grew close.

But Bjorn was too much like his father for his own good.

Where he had the shieldmaiden Lagertha's kindness, Ragnar's brashness overpowered it. Where he had her intelligence, his thoughtless curiosity got the best of him. He was impulsive, reckless, and shared his father's lust for fame and glory.

And that made him dangerous.

Yet, despite every inch of your brain screaming at you, telling you not to go, your legs had a mind of their own. You brushed past Gunnhild and Ingrid, slipping into the bedroom and sighing when your eyes met Bjorn's.

"You're awake," you said, your fingers curled around the wood of the doorframe. Your fingernails dug into the wood, refusing to let go, no matter how badly your legs wanted to move forward.

Bjorn opened his mouth to speak, but as he took a breath, he burst into a coughing fit. You were on him in an instant, turning his head to the side so he could spit out the blood that had pooled in his mouth.

It was through shallow breaths and trembling lips that Bjorn finally spoke. "Why did... you…" he paused to take a shaky breath before he was interrupted by the harsh coughs grating at his throat.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling through your mouth. You knew what he was trying to ask.

Why did you side with the Rus?

You couldn't bring yourself to answer, even though his eyes, disappearing under his fluttering eyelids every few moments, begged for some semblance of an answer; begged for you to enlighten him as to why the hell you had sided with the enemy, why you had so openly betrayed the Vikings.

"Bjorn…"

"And… even though you…" he cut himself off to take a breath, chest heaving in pain. "I l…love you…"

Love?

After years of chasing other girls and ignoring the feelings you so openly displayed for him, ignoring your pleas to be rational and think things through, he comes out with this. After watching him disappear into the tent with the Sami girl, marrying Gunnhild, and later, Ingrid, he tells you he loves you.

Bjorn Ironside was never satisfied, was he? He took and he took and he took without a moment's hesitation until there was nothing left to take, like a child petulantly cradling his treasure to his chest, refusing to leave anything for the other children.

It was infuriating.

"You don't get to do this to me now, Bjorn Ironside," you said, stepping away from him with your fists slowly clenching at your sides. "You don't get to play this game with me, not when you ignored how I felt about you."

Felt?

You had always loved Bjorn; of that, he was certain. You had been by his side, always, even when you clashed over a decision he had impulsively made; even when he disregarded your feelings for him and continued to sleep around with any willing woman he pleased.

And now, on his deathbed, you tell him you used to love him.

What made you stop?

"Y/N…"

"No, Bjorn," you shook your head firmly, blinking back the tears that threatened to slip from the corner of your glassy eyes. "If you have any… any semblance of love for your brother, you'll let this go. I came here because I wanted to make sure you were still alive, not because I wanted to have this conversation with you.”

Bjorn's paint-covered brows furrowed in confusion, and he pushed through the pain in his abdomen to sit up on trembling arms, gasping and clutching the bandaged wound on his side.

"B… brother?"

A memory flashed in his eyes, and though it seemed distant, he was able to picture it completely; as clear and vivid as if it were happening right before his eyes, though, this time, he acknowledged it.

A memory of the battlefield on that afternoon, blood-stained axes and heavy swords meeting metal armor and reinforced shields. The light drizzle of rain coming down on you, diluting the dried blood on your face as you ran to Hvitserk's aid, slaying any enemy that dared to stand between you and him.

He realized Hvitserk had been doing the same thing, swinging his axe in an almost maniacal manner, war cries ripping from his throat, so loud Bjorn could hear them clearly from where he stood. The two of you met in the middle, taking a second to look over each other's injuries. Hvitserk's bloody, cut-up hand brushed against the skin of your cheek for nothing but a moment.

It was the look on Hvitserk's face that made Bjorn realize what he had seemed to dismiss in that moment. The way his hard eyes softened when you nodded gently against his hand to let him know you were alright. The way his lips parted to tell you he loved you before you both threw yourselves back into the fray.

"Hvitserk."

"Yes, Bjorn. Hvitserk."

The two of you were silent for a few moments, allowing Bjorn to take in his sudden realization. You stood with your arms idly crossed over your chest, your eyes scanning the room for anything to calm the anger bubbling in your stomach.

"How… how long?"

Your mind drifts to a memory, too. A memory you've grown very fond of. A memory of spring, flowers growing on the fields and trees, heavy with green leaves and bearing delicious fruit, surrounding you and Hvitserk. You remember the grin on Hvitserk's face, and imagine it mirrored your own.

All the love in the world shone in his eyes that day. The love Bjorn never felt inclined to give you.

"We married in the spring," you said, cold hands rubbing at your arms, creating friction in the hopes it would bring you some warmth, or at least shield you from Bjorn's cold gaze. "Not very long ago, but we love each other.”

Bjorn all but scoffed at the revelation, averting his eyes elsewhere and grimacing, a hand pressing down on his bandaged side. Suddenly, he pushed himself to his feet, staggering towards you. Bjorn wasn’t able to get very far, as Gunnhild, Ingrid and Erik rushed in, forcing him to settle back down. His blue eyes searched yours, hoping to find that mischievous and playful gleam in them, telling him that you’re lying. He searched your face for the telltale sign, for the slight twitch of the corner of your lips, but it never came.

Bjorn Ironside loved you. You had always been the one for him, no matter how many women came before you. And now that he had finally come to realize— no, acknowledge— his feelings for you, to accept them, you were out of his grasp. It felt as if Freyja herself was mocking him, mocking his own stupidity.

To some extent, he was happy. Happy you had finally found love, but at the same time, his heart ached at the revelation. You simply didn’t love him anymore. At least, not in the way he wanted you to; not in the way he needed you to.

Ingrid turned to you, an unreadable expression on her face. Looking between you and Bjorn, she sighed deeply, but before she could open her mouth to speak, you had put your hand up, halting the words before they left her throat.

“I know,” you said. “I won’t tell them. As far as they’re aware, Ironside is dead.” Then, looking towards Bjorn, you stepped forward, took his calloused hands in his and bowed your head in reverence. “Goodbye, Bjorn Ironside,” you whispered, pressing your lips to the back of his hands. “May the gods watch over you.”

You didn’t wait for his reaction, because you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it. So, nodding in Gunnhild and Ingrid’s direction, you took a step back. Without casting the scene before you another look, you spun around on the heel of your muddy boots, ignoring Bjorn calling after you as your feet carried you out of the hall and into the snowy town of Kattegat.

#this was SO rushed bby i'm so sorry #but i hope you liked it!!!#vikings #vikings x reader #bjorn #bjorn x reader #bjorn ironside #bjorn ironside x reader #my writing

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mallowstep · 3 years

Note

(I came up with this au while in debate class so I'm calling it the Debate AU if you don't mind)

Tigerstar absolutely misread everything about Riverclan and fucked up so bad by keeping Stonefur, Mistyfoot Featherpaw, and Stormpaw alive and well and healthy but basically doing everything to Leopardstar that he does to Mistyfoot and Feathertail and Leopardstar in the Misty and Leopard AUs that Stone pulls a Scourge in front of all the clans and everyone looks at Stonefur in terror but Stonefur only has eyes for Leopardstar, who is leaning heavily on Mistyfoot. (Like Leopard is beat down, she's loosing hair, and she has deeply infected scratches on her shoulders.Stone and Misty fucking Hate Tigerstar for what he's done to this cat they've known all their lives.) Stonefur kicks Shadowclan the fuck out of Riverclan territory, Mistyfoot doesn't let Mudfur near Leopardstar (neither does Featherpaw, for that matter. She wasn't abused and she's healthy, but she was traumatized in-Tigerstar had her watch Mudfur abuse Leopardstar and Tigerstar himself told Featherpaw Greystripe thought the same things about her.) Featherpaw won't let any warriors in Leopardstar's den unless she's in there with Leopardstar ---so Featherpaw can protect Leopardstar. The silver furred apprentice curls around her leader, "I'm right here, Leopardstar. Stonefur and Mistyfoot are talking to the other clans and then they'll be back. Stonefur said he'd bring back your favorite." Featherpaw added, purring as she groomed Leopardstar's head. "Stormpaw said he went and got the best trinket for your new den though, and he thinks it's going to be your choice over uncle Stonefur's."

damn anon. thank you. hold on i'm going to engage.

also fair like. i'm. i'm out of the haze and not good at keeping track of au tags so. the only ones i'm really tagging for are the ones i'm like. still thinking about. stone au atm. just didn't want like. u to be. think it was a thing. i'm just tired 100% of the time. anyway.

cw: sexual assault, physical abuse, a few more detailed cws immediately under the cut

cws: parent being involved in sexual assault of child, child sexual abuse (via exposure)

cool. sometimes it's like. i dunno. anyway. sorry i said i'm tired but also very into this.

anyway /nm but also reminder to everyone that i have adhd and would prefer if you included paragraph breaks. obviously i just copy it into a document and add my own but. i appreciate when you save me the step. like i get it y'all've seen me ramble at Length in one paragraph before i just. appreciate it.

okay back on topic.

i'm going to sidestep riverclan related concerns for the sake of "angst good," lmao. riverclan related concerns being if i wasn't tired i could easily come up with a justification i'm just tired and lazy.

but like yeah like. uh. dammit i'm already opening up tpb books left and right. let me just.

"But common sense says there’ll be a battle, Firestar. I don’t need an omen from StarClan to tell me that."

oh my god can cinderpelt like. go and talk to all of the modern medicine cats so that they stop flipping out because starclan isn't answering their texts or whatever.

Remembering the wounded and devastated cats in the WindClan camp the day before, he had expected only a small group to come to Fourtrees. Instead practically every warrior must have been there.

i mean windclan has like five warriors but-

Firestar waved his tail to signal to the two united Clans—LionClan, he thought with a rush of pride. This was his destiny.

this is mostly for jace (assuming u see this) bc it's the whole "importance of lionclan existing" thing i was referring to. didn't bother to pull quotes on my dotc rant, but here u go.

so. point of canon divergence* is:

“Greetings, Tigerstar,” he meowed coolly. “You came, then. Not still looking for those prisoners you lost from RiverClan territory?” Tigerstar let out a snarl. “You’ll regret that day’s work, Firestar.” “Try and make me,” Firestar retorted.

* from firestar's pov

bc obviously that didn't happen.

no, what happens is firestar sees -- blackfoot and darkstripe and.

leopardstar.

firestar harbours no affection for riverclan's leader. but. even from a distance, he can see her ribs. he'd be surprised she was standing on her own, if he wasn't processing everything else going on.

he doesn't see this part.

Mistyfoot's tail flicks to Stonefur's shoulder, and he nods. They've only exchanged a few words, only had a brief moment, but they're ready.

Stonefur glances back. Featherpaw and Stormpaw are out of the way. He hopes, if this goes wrong, they have the sense to run. If they had the chance, he would have told them to skirt the edge of TigerClan and try to make it as deep into ThunderClan's territory as they could.

He hopes they have the sense to figure that out for themselves.

Firestar is exposing Tigerstar's plans. RiverClan doesn't react. There's not much they'd be surprised by, Stonefur muses. If Firestar told them Tigerstar killed his own kit, he doesn't think he'd be shocked.

Mistyfoot slips towards the front of the crowd. Leopardstar doesn't know, of course. Stonefur has barely had the chance to say two words to her in the past moon. He slinks around to the space between the Clans.

Firestar finishes his speech. No one says anything. Firestar looks takenaback. He glances towards Leopardstar; Stonefur does too. Mistyfoot is watching him, but she's looking at the ground.

A part of Stonefur wants to say, "That's not all." Because, as he starts to run, preparing to leap at Tigerstar, he wants them to know why. He wants them to know what Tigerstar has done. He wants them to revel in Tigerstar's death.

But he doesn't.

Tigerstar sees him, of course. Stonefur isn't trying to be subtle.

"You," Tigerstar growls.

Say it, Stonefur thinks. Tell them what you've done.

But Tigerstar doesn't.

The actual fight is a blur. He doesn't think he is himself again, until Tigerstar's corpse twitches and stills, and he looks towards Leopardstar. Mistyfoot has inserted herself between Leopardstar and Blackfoot, and Stonefur nods minutely.

It's over now.

the clans, of course, are...shocked. riverclan has no complaints, and while...everyone (more or less) is happy tigerstar is dead, but...for thunderclan and windclan, stonefur just murdered him without direct provocation. and the fact that he killed him nine times? direct violation of a warrior doesn't need to kill.

like. if they Knew, they would think stonefur just. but they don't know.

and riverclan doesn't want to explain and shadowclan doesn't want to explain and no i'm not at this moment figuring out what happens wrt bloodclan and so forth. i just wanted to set that scene.

yeah. no idea what happens next in a lot of places here. but.

everyone goes home.

("Your territory," Stonefur growls.

"Obviously," Blackfoot says.)

mistyfoot takes leopardstar to her den. stonefur tells stormpaw to run to thunderclan and ask for their medicine cat. tells him to say it's urgent and he can't explain here. tells him that if they want to send her with a warrior or two, don't argue. just get her here.

featherpaw stations herself outside leopardstar's den.

stonefur feels like he should say something. he's still covered in tigerstar's blood.

"we're taking this down," he says, "now."

they dismantle the bonehill.

once the process has been started, stonefur lets the rest of the warriors finish, and grooms himself and washes in the river until he's satisfied every trace of blood has been taken care of.

he's about to see her when stormpaw arrives with cinderpelt and...hm. sandstorm.

(cinderpelt was there. she saw leopardstar. she can start to put pieces together.)

stonefur greets them, and featherpaw goes to tell mistyfoot and leopardstar, and the adrenaline is fading, his limbs starting to tremble. when's the last time he got any real sleep?

"Stormpaw said you needed a medicine cat," Cinderpelt says.

"We do."

"Did something happen to Mudfur?"

"He can't do this." Stonefur's tail flicks. "We need someone to look at Leopardstar -- you can use our herbs, of course, whatever you need."

Cinderpelt blinks. She's a young cat, Stonefur thinks, too young to be looking at him like she understands. Maybe it's part of being a medicine cat.

"Right then. Does Leopardstar know I'm coming?"

"Featherpaw is telling her."

and stonefur isn't going to follow cinderpelt into leopardstar's den.

for one, it's crowded enough, and he'd probably just get kicked out. for another, he doesn't know what leopardstar and cinderpelt will talk about, but -- he doesn't want to force himself into it.

cinderpelt stays for a while. sandstorm runs proxy, taking some herbs to her, but then she stays with cinderpelt. stonefur has probably been up for over a day when cinderpelt and sandstorm nod.

"take some prey before you leave," he says. "riverclan won't forget this."

"i went over some things with mistyfoot," cinderpelt says. "always good to have some basic herb knowledge."

cats don't have a direct analogue for kissing, but stonefur could kiss cinderpelt for having the grace to say that without letting on why. it's not like riverclan doesn't know. everyone knows.

but.

it's still appreciated.

As the sun rises, Stonefur stands, facing into Leopardstar's den.

"Can I come in?"

Her eyes are watching him. Even they have been changed: no longer the brilliant gold he remembers, but something brassy and dull.

"Of course."

Featherpaw slips past him, taking his place as sentry. She needs to sleep, Stonefur thinks, but it might be best to wait until she's too exhausted to keep her eyes open. He's not above carrying her back to her den like a kit.

Leopardstar starts to stand.

"Don't," Stonefur says. "It's alright."

He hates that seeing her like this is not foreign to him.

Mistyfoot curls up, her eyes closed, a compromise. Stonefur sinks to the ground. "Can I -- do anything?"

Leopardstar looks at the empty space in her nest. "Would you stay with me?"

"Of course." (Anything.)

yeah. uh. i think like. i dunno. it's not like tigerstar ever showed leopardstar a single ounce of kindness. so. uh. am i using that as an excuse to sidestep angst? no. no i am not. well. not entirely. but Damn leopardstar needs a hug.

that she can initiate and control.

but still. she's desperately deprived of positive human contact and as someone who cried once because someone put their hand on my shoulder and i hadn't touched another human being in like six months. i think she needs it.

ohh boy yeah. i think y'all know me well enough to know where i'd go with that angle.

so let me turn my attention to featherpaw. i started answering this ask like an hour ago. anon i love you.

featherpaw has. uh. she's got a Lot of problems. as you can probably understand.

i'd say let's start at the top, but i'm not sure where that is, so let's start with her relationship to stormpaw, because i think that should get fucked up. i think...you know how stormpaw says, "i won't let him kill us"? and. yeah.

but there's never One Moment here and stormpaw realizes way too late and featherpaw feels like...you know like. everyone who is supposed to help her is failing her. she can't really blame leopardstar, and mistyfoot clearly feels bad, and stonefur like. idk what he was doing but she's solidly neutral on him.

could tigerstar try to fuck all of that up? of course he could. do i want to write featherpaw and stonefur arguing about leopardstar? i've already written a lot of something blindingly similar, so not at the moment.

anyway. the relationship i will freely fuck with is stormpaw. i think not because of anything specific, i think tigerstar just gets in her head and she looks like her mother (something tigerstar brings up) and stormpaw takes after their father and he keeps acting like everything is normal and.

at the end of the day, there's this gulf between them that he keeps stepping into.

so yeah. not to mention greystripe. like. fuck.

"Featherpaw!" Greystripe waves his tail at his daughter, and she flinches.

oh hey i hit the grammar cut off again. let me. i learned how to do this okay i'm going to insert some kind of dummy image or something to reset the counter.

there it's a link to my tumblr but i've got grammar checking again xd

moving on.

featherpaw doesn't want to talk to greystripe. it's not Strictly that she thinks what tigerstar said was true (although she's not sure it isn't), but that. just looking at him sets off a loop in her head.

uh. does anyone explain this to greystripe? no. because the cats who could are:

leopardstar (doesn't want to talk about it)

mudfur (doesn't want to talk about it)

mistyfoot (but only by inference, and doesn't consider explaining things to greystripe a priority)

featherpaw (doesn't want to talk about it and doesn't want to talk to greystripe)

so yeah. no. he's in the Dark.

one of the first priorities is building leopardstar a new den. and decorating it. that's part of building a den i just wanted to clarify and.

featherpaw takes it seriously. because. you know. beauty begets beauty.

she doesn't want...stormpaw is ready to jump straight into sharing a den with old apprentice friend dawnpaw. maybe they never stopped.

but featherpaw? doesn't feel safe there. (doesn't feel safe anywhere.)

especially as she's getting older and tigerstar certainly implied and-

she's not sleeping very well.

mistyfoot and stonefur are trying to help her but they're not therapists! they don't know what to do! featherpaw clearly is dealing with shit but how do they help her??? they have no idea!!! how would they?

in a very strange inverse of canon, leopardstar and featherpaw develop a close relationship. leopardstar feels like she failed to protect featherpaw. featherpaw just. doesn't know. she doesn't know what she feels or thinks or knows and like: leopardstar doesn't. she doesn't need to explain herself to leopardstar.

she's in a big sister role to the kits, i think.

uh. yeah. featherpaw. she is not taking any of this well.

sooner or later greystripe corners her (because he doesn't know) and she's having a panic attack and leopardstar is like "you are never allowed to talk to her ever again" and greystripe is like "what the fuck did i do" and someone (mistyfoot?) finally explains.

uh. what else.

stonefur + leopardstar + featherpaw cuddle pile? leopardstar is in the centre. she feels kind of weird about that because she can tell featherpaw is like. going through this whole. uh. whats the. fuck.

like. featherpaw feels like she needs to protect her and leopardstar doesn't really want to encourage that but on the otherhand it's kind of nice that featherpaw is right here because tigerstar 100% used to threaten her to leopardstar and-

yeah.

uh.

i started writing two hours ago so i'm just going to post.

#ask #anon #mine #i approve of this au so much #clearly #had a lot of thoughts #debate au

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