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fizzyxcustard · 1 year

Text

I Have Time.

Part 1 can be found here

Fandom: Robin Hood (BBC TV series)

Pairing: Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Pining, smut, insecurity

Summary: From the imagine, “Imagine telling Guy about your 21st century Christmas traditions.” Part 2.

Comments: If you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please let me know. Requested by @sydmarchsstuff

I'm going to sound like a broken record, as usual, but thank you to all of you who regularly engage with my fics. I appreciate it more than you know. :)

The knock at your door had completely broken the spell from around you and Guy. The two of you moved over to your small table, which you noticed that Guy had already set and he began plating the food.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” you told him.

Guy merely smirked at you and then pulled your chair out for you. “Would you like your shawl? You’re shaking.”

As the spell had been broken from around you, you had never even noticed the temperature. Your mind was too pre-occupied with this gorgeous man before you. He aroused you in so many ways, not just physically, but also emotionally. Those icy eyes held so many negative emotions, and whenever in his company, something made you feel sad for him.

Before you could answer and Guy had got your shawl and was placing it around your shoulders. You couldn’t help but notice how his hands lingered on your shoulders for a couple of seconds and then slipped away. The truth was this: you had always found it impossible to read men and know their intentions. Was Guy really interested in you for more than just friendship?

In his own seat, Guy remained silent and still, watching your reaction to the meal he had organised. But you remained closed, your shoulders and back straight, your face straight. He sighed and tightened his fist, not realising that you had noticed him.

“Is everything alright?” you asked.

“No, it isn’t,” Guy growled. His jaw was clenched, and his own uncertainty and indecision was driving him mad. He thought back to pursuing Marian; that had been easier. He had always known that she would never love him, and that somehow spurred him on to try and change her, presenting a challenge. You, however, were so difficult to read, being a different creature entirely. When he had touched your hand earlier, by the fire, you had not moved. Was that his sign?

“Have I done something wrong?” you asked, feeling immediate guilt rise in your chest, and you had no idea what you were feeling guilt for. “Please, Guy, I would never judge you for telling me your thoughts.”

His gaze locked on yours from across the table. “Most women I’ve encountered and their intentions I can read. Yours I cannot. You confuse me.”

“My intentions in what way? As in, romance?” you asked, your eyes wide in shock at this sudden admission. To think that Guy of Gisborne had power and persuasion, beneath all that was a deep vulnerability.

“You could call it that, yes,” he replied simply.

You sighed and looked down into your lap.

Guy watched you, and noticed a very slight smile on your face. What did that suggest? Amusement? Happiness?

“Why do you smile?” he asked bluntly.

“Because I’ve felt the same way about you. I’ve been here a few months now, and I thought maybe I’d be able to read you because you’re not like a lot of the men I’m used to.”

Guy smirked. “Is that so? Indulge me.”

“I don’t mean it in a bad sense at all. Far from it. I’ve never really been what men want back where I come from. I began to think you were the same as that.”

“So, how am I different to these men then?”

“It’s hard to explain, Guy, and you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Guy got up from the table and stepped around it towards you. He leaned down, feeling that intense draw to you, an invisible connection. It beckoned him closer to you, and then he stopped.

You reached for the edge of his leather tunic, which had two fastenings open at the top. You grabbed the edge of the tunic and pulled him toward you, stopping for a second so your faces were no more than two inches apart.

Guy inhaled sharp and then kissed you hard. The two of you succumb to that heat which had been rising for months now. The kiss deepened and your tongues met. You got to your feet and the two of you, still kissing, fumbled over to the bed.

With shaking hands, in anticipation and excitement, you unfastened Guy’s leather tunic, peeling it from him. He threw it to the floor, thankful to get rid of it. And then you continued kissing.

Once completely disrobed, Guy lay over you, kissing you. The kisses were less forceful now, and instead were full of love. You brushed your hand up into his hair, lacing your fingers in the raven locks.

Guy’s hand trailed down your warm body, followed by his lips. “I’ve waited so long for you,” he groaned.

“You have me now,” you replied.

The two of you made love slowly, tenderly, deeply. There was no rush in either of you. Everything was about savouring the moment, remaining joined for as long as you could be.

Guy rocked against you, his head at your neck. Your hands were locked in his and your legs were closed around his waist. With each deep thrust, you felt him press against that pleasure point. It made the waves mount as if each time he hit that spot, it flicked a switch, increasing the electricity. It was building, like a pressure in the very base of your stomach.

Every sensation that Guy felt was pure pleasure, warmth and love. He was encased in you, protected by you. For a second he pulled his lips from your neck and looked into your eyes, smiling as he did so. His whole heart told him that you were his home. Guy had never known a true home, until now. He continued thrusting into you as you kept your gazes locked, and he watched your smile change, transforming your expression into one of wonder; eyes shut, mouth open. This was his sign to thrust that little quicker, and as he did so, he saw your expression mirror your ecstasy even more intensely. His name slipped off your tongue, becoming caught up in a groan. Your body shook around him, and he could feel you tightening his girth.

As the orgasm reached its peak and died away, you opened your eyes, feeling aftershocks flicker down your legs. And it was here that you knew Guy had also reached his climax. His eyes closed and you watched him come closer, putting his lips to yours. He groaned into your kiss. You held him as he rode that beautiful wave out and then let him slip down onto your chest, panting.

Guy closed his eyes, that sense of being at home so intense now. Your heartbeat pulsed against his ear, gradually slowing the longer he remained there, the two of you skin to skin.

The afterglow lingered around the two of you for a few minutes, until Guy spoke. He lifted his head from your chest and looked at you, brushing a stray piece of sweaty hair from your brow. “You have yet to tell me exactly where you’re from,” he said, smirking. “I was hoping that this may have warmed you into trusting me enough to tell me where you are from.”

“You won’t believe me, Guy. I know you won’t,” you replied defensively and pulled yourself up the bed so you were sat up.

Guy shifted beside you and laced his hand in yours. “Trust me, please.”

You sighed and focused on him, finding him the most handsome man you had ever seen. And somehow he was now yours. “I’m from the future.”

Guy stared at you blankly.

“See, I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

Guy furrowed his eyebrows. “I never said I didn’t believe you. You’ve assumed immediately what I’m thinking. It’s hardly something that you hear on a regular occasion, is it? So how do you expect me to react?”

You continued. “I’m from the year 2022. I’d read stories about time slips and never believed they existed. I always thought they were silly ideas or just stories made up by drunk people. This is why I don’t talk too much about home. England is extremely different to this in the future. It would take me a long time to talk about everything.”

Guy just stared at you and propped up on his elbow, resting his head on his hand. “I have time.”

***

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#Guy of Gisborne #Robin Hood #Richard Armitage #Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader #Request

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innytoes · 6 months

Note

If you're still doing the AU mixing: Sugar Daddy AU + Magic AU? 👀

-Okay so Reggie learns when he is sixteen that trying to do his potions homework and fix his amp in the rain at the same time is NOT a good idea because now every time he sneezes he turns into a cat. Also, he flunked his potions assignment.

-The free clinic basically shrugged and said: that's rough buddy here's some nose spray so for any seasonal allergies I guess.

-"At least you're a cute cat," Luke tries to comfort him. Which is true. He's fluffy and orange and he has little tiny white socks.

-There are actually a lot of advantages to being a cat. Besides the whole 'sneezing' part, but he gets better at controlling that as well. Cute girls and guys will give him attention. He can nap just about anywhere. Bobby is immune to his puppy eyes but somehow cannot so no to his Sad Kitty Eyes.

-It's not until they graduate and move in together that he fully optimises his Kitty Cat Experience. Because yeah, four guys crammed into a one bedroom apartment is a great band origin story once they're famous, but Three Guys and a cat who can comfortably curl up on the sofa is a lot easier to handle.

-And then one day, when he 's out Catting, being adorable at cute girls at the park, one of them offers him some of the meat on her sandwich in exchange for petting him (jokes on you, cute girl, he wanted you to pet him!). Still, it's like a lightbulb moment. He's a cute cat. People will give him food if he is adorable enough.

-He starts testing it. Being cute at people holding hotdogs, and fries, and donuts. He gets a bit of 'no kitty donuts are people food', but he's pretty successful all in all. The butcher loves him. The lady with the fish stall in Chinatown does too. The guy at the bodega on the corner tries to give him some meat but the bodega cat squares up with him and Reggie knows he's not going to win that fight. He's seen Bodega Cat send dogs twice her size running.

-Listen, they're barely scraping by between their shitty jobs and gig money, so when Reggie says: it's cool you can have my fourth of the pizza, the guys are suspicious but grateful when he explains.

-"Dude, you're thinking too small," Bobby says, after a while. "You should go to like, a rich neighbourhood and scam people out of salmon and caviar."

"I don't think that's..." Alex starts, but Reggie is already jumping up.

"Bobbers that's brilliant!" he says.

-Yes he gets Luke to brush him before he changes back to human, gets on a bus, and goes to the Fancy Part Of Town.

-He quickly finds that Fancy Restaurants and Cafés and Butcher Shops are mean. Even with his freshly brushed fluffy coat and his saddest cute kitty eyes, they chase him off. One of them even tells him to scram and calls him a street cat. Rude.

-He decides to try rich people houses instead. Surely there must be some kind of rich old lady who would love to pamper a pretty cat like himself? It takes a couple of tries, and a quick escape from a very well-groomed poodle, but he manages to get into a nice yard. He carefully sneaks across the manicured lawn, hoping to peek inside, when a delighted voice comes from his right.

"Well hello there!"

-There is a man lounging by the pool. A very handsome, very attractive, nearly naked man in just some very tight little swim shorts. And he looks happy to see Reggie. That's way better than a little old lady.

-He goes over, just out of reach, twisting his head just so to look cute and curious. This always works with cat people, and of course the handsome man carefully leans over, making beckoning noises, and holds out his hand for Reggie to sniff.

"Aren't you just the prettiest little thing?"

-His hands smell like Good Food, and Reggie goes in for the kill. He nuzzles the guy's fingers, lets himself be pet, and then flops down to expose his fluffy tummy.

Hello, I am indeed adorable, you should give me rich people food, he thinks as hard as he can.

-"Are you hungry, little guy? I think I have some nice smoked salmon in the fridge. Would you like some salmon?"

-JACKPOT.

-He spend the entire afternoon being pampered and petted and cooed over, and most importantly, fed bits of salmon and prosciutto. He falls asleep in a nice warm lap with a perfectly manicured hand petting him, and when he wakes up an hour later, the handsome man is still looking adoringly at him.

When Reggie gets up and stretches, he bumps his head against the guy's elbow in thanks, before setting off. The man waves at him.

-He comes home well-fed and smug, and Bobby just shakes his head and says 'I can't believe that worked' before dibs-ing Reggie's portion of the cheap takeout.

-He starts going over to Hot Rich Guy's house once a week. The man is just always so happy to see him, and always seems to know exactly what he wants, whether that's food or a snuggle or a scritch right at the base of his tail. Also he's really easy on the eyes, and Reggie won't lie, getting to curl up on that chest while they laze in the sun together is a special treat of its own.

-Hot Rich Guy is named Caleb, and it turns out he's a pretty powerful wizard. Like, one that's on Councils and stuff. Reggie has no idea what he actually does, but he loves to sit and watch when Caleb decides it's time to clean the kitchen, watching the dishes wash themselves, and fly through the air. He also likes the little magic toys Caleb makes just for him, mousies that zoom around, paper cranes that flutter until he leaps to catch them. He may not be an actual cat, but it's still fun.

-"You know, I started out as a street magician," Caleb tells him, flicking another magic paper crane for Reggie to grab. Caleb usually switches between talking to him like he's a human, and gushing 'who's a handsome boy' and other cutesy talk. "Sometimes I miss the simplicity of it. I just made people happy."

He sounds sad, so Reggie abandons stalking the crane to nuzzle at Caleb's chin, purring. You make me pretty happy, he thinks. He can feel the man smile against his fur.

-Okay, so maybe he starts going over even more, sometimes even spending the night with what the guys have affectionately started calling 'Reggie's Salmon Daddy'. (Which was unfair. Caleb also gave him crab, and shrimp, and even steak.) But well, Caleb had gotten him his own comfy little pillow to sleep on in his own bedroom, which is way better than the couch.

Though sometimes he still spends the night with the guys, sleeping on top of Bobby's face just to annoy him, or purring on Alex' chest to keep his anxiety from spiraling into thinking terrible things. It's pretty hard to think your friends hate you when one of them is literally on top of you, making the 'I'm so happy' sound.

-Still, Caleb has maybe installed a little magic catflap for him so he can come and go as he pleases. And gotten him one of those waterfall pet bowl things to drink out of. And a comfy cat bed. And a high end scratch post, even though Reggie would never put his claws into the guy's expensive furniture.

And okay, he also has his own little pillow in the bedroom. But he has been known to hop on the bed and snuggle up to Caleb. Listen, the man is really hot and way out of his league, and Reggie knows he'd never have a shot with him as a human. But he lets himself indulge in snuggling against the guy's muscular, sexy chest and dreaming sometimes. Cats are hedonistic little bastards, he tells himself, so he's allowed.

-He's curled up in the perfect patch of sunlight on Caleb's bed one morning when the man comes out of the shower, toweling off his hair and not wearing anything else. Steam billows out of the bathroom door, and the whole thing is so much like the beginning of a hot romance novel scene that Reggie finds himself having very explicit, very human thoughts about what he'd like to do with that naked man.

"Good morning, Kitten," Caleb says, and is it just Reggie, or is his smile bordering on a smirk?

-Yes he maybe makes sure he's there more often when Caleb gets ready in the mornings. Maybe he even swaps to the afternoon shift at his part-time job at the pet store some days of the week.

-So he's pretty happy. He's getting better meals, they have more breathing room because Reggie basically doesn't need to eat at home most of the time anymore, and when he's not with the guys, he gets to hang out with this hot guy who adores him. Well, cat-him.

-Until one morning.

One morning after he slept over, and hopped on to the bed and dramatically snuggled and made himself at home against Caleb's chest, while he chuckled and scratched that perfect spot at Reggie's ears. He fell asleep purring, comfortable and warm.

He also woke up comfortable and warm. There was a hand draped over his waist, and a nose pressed into his hair. Reggie sighed happily, snuggling back into the embrace, wrapping his own hand around the arm.

Wait.

Wait, hands! He wasn't supposed to have hands right now.

Behind him, a rumble. "Good morning, Kitten."

Oh no. Oh noooo. "I can explain."

"Oh can you now?" Caleb asks, sounding amused. He props himself up on one arm, looking down at Reggie, and man, he's just as handsome with human vision.

He runs through several semi-convincing lies, but Caleb just quirks an eyebrow at him. "Before you open your mouth, please do consider that I can literally hear your thoughts."

"You can?" Oh no, oh no, he was going to be turned back into a cat but like, forever. Or worse.

"I'm not going to harm you, Kitten," Caleb says. "But yes. They're quite loud. You really project them when you're a cat."

Oh.

Oh no.

"Even the ones I had when you got out of the shower?"

The smirk is back. "Especially those. They were really quite vivid."

-Turns out having a Salmon Daddy isn't so bad as a human either. Their first date? Sushi, of course.

#julie and the phantoms #AUs are awesome #calebxreggie #I wrote a thing #fanfic #not!fic #sugar daddy au #magic au #cat!reggie #shout out to yeo because we had a conversation a while back about how cat!willie would use his shapeshifting for crime and just steal shit #but cat!reggie would use it to con people into adopting him as their spoiled house cat #yes they start dating this is a sugar daddy au of course they do #reggie is not sure how he feels about caleb having known he wasn't a real cat from the start but also like... this is his dream come true #once they get very serious caleb gives reggie a magic collar that will shift with him #he can ring the bell whenever he's in trouble and Caleb will come find him #caleb covington #reggie peters

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mylevisdontfitanymore · 1 year

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i think a lot about a fat nat. maybe where she has started gaining weight (maybe a lot of weight) and can see her stomach really beginning to grow. stretch marks line her sides and now moving around is getting a little more difficult. well maybe nat decides to lose the weight for whatever reason. maybe she's embarrassed. except now she has loose skin and she hates it. i picture her deciding that she wants to fit back into her skin. now she's back to gaining and soon she has outgrown her old size. maybe she has some support from a feeder.

Same!

I am always thinking about fat Natasha 😮‍💨😮‍💨 there's just something so good about her

And I love your idea!! I think it's a great idea, she probably (because of the way society is 🙃) would feel embarrassed or upset about gaining weight. Like, as everybody knows, society is especially shitty to women that aren't stick thin or who don't have curves in the "right places". And then, the idea of fitting back into her own body, despite what others may say is so sweet.

But... I've been having my own thoughts™️ about fat Natasha recently that I need to get out, so, I'm using your ask as an excuse. I hope that's okay! 😅 Don't think your idea isn't good, because it really really is! I just need an excuse to ramble lmao

Unbeta'd, as always. Warning: for romanogers (Natasha × Steve) belly kink with all-day-stuffing, bloating, tight clothes, dom/sub dynamics (dom Nat/sub Steve), feedee Natasha, feeder Steve, vibrators, etc.

I cannot stop thinking about dom feedee Natasha paired with submissive pre-serum Steve.

Specifically, I've been in the mood for trans Steve lately. Idk why, but, I've been thinking about him 😏

He's a fucking spitfire with everyone but Natasha. He trusts Natasha, he knows she sees him as the man he is and his deeply buried need to submit doesn't change his manhood. He can submit to her and he can submit hard.

Beyond submitting to Natasha, Steve enjoys feeding Natasha - he can't bake or cook for shit - but he will go and get anything she wants or needs. He will order anything. He will drive her to any restaurant and pay for the massive amounts of lavish food she desires, no matter how expensive. He will do anything for her. It's to the point that Natasha will smile wolfishly at him, tell him she's feeling peckish, and instantly Steve is asking what she needs, practically begging to be told so he can bring it to her.

Seemingly with every snack, meal, or dessert he brings her, she becomes plumper. She grows rounder. She turns lazier. She becomes even more demanding, unwilling to do things herself when she could have her good little sub do it for her.

Steve adores these changes.

And Natasha adores them too.

So, as often as they can, they make a day of it. Steve submits and feeds his girlfriend at her beckon, listening to her every order.

In the morning Natasha will pull herself clumsily up into a sitting position, the sheets pool around her, revealing her soft, soft, soft body. Already, she's huffing and puffing some under her body weight, unused to having to haul it around because she has grown so fast. Nat moves (a little inelegantly, thanks to that extra weight 🥵) until her back rests against the headboard. Meanwhile, her belly rests on her soft thighs and her tits rest on top of her belly. She went to bed naked, so she's still naked now.

She is beautiful. Big and beautiful.

This early in the morning, her belly isn't yet taut and hard from being stuffed, although it is still gurgling from all she ate the day before, especially dinner and a few rounds of rich dessert, her body trying to figure out what to do with all that extra food.

Natasha is more of a morning person than Steve, so she waits - smiling to herself, her back to the headboard - until Steve wakes up. He drools a little in his sleep. It's cute.

When Steve finally wakes up, he makes a sleepy noise of interest and presses himself against her plush side eagerly - he knows what they have planned for today and cannot wait. Steve's naked too. Already, he can't help but react to her so soft and fat. His t-dick swelling, growing slick between his legs, as hot blood rushes south. Yes.

Natasha hums, letting him pull himself tighter against her side, enjoying the feeling of her fat against his lean muscle and bone. But, before long she grabs her fat belly and runs her fingers through Steve's short, golden hair with her other hand, "I'm hungry."

Steve is instantly scrambling to get up, he knows that's his cue.

"Wait."

He stops.

"I didn't say you could go yet," she murmurs, she doesn't need to be loud to be heard.

"Yes, right. Y-yeah," he nods, still frozen in place, "'m sorry, 'Tasha."

"It's fine." She pinches his cheek then taps it a little, a mock slap that doesn't even hurt, "I know you're just excited to help me grow."

Steve blushes too hard for just having started. Grow. Yes. He wants her bigger. Please.

"Before you get me my breakfast..." she pauses, "why don't you sit in my lap, hmm?"

Steve nods frantically and squishes himself as close to her as he can, moaning a little at the weight of her belly and tits against him. Plush. Soft.

Fat.

"Good, good boy." She purs, running her hands down his shoulders and back, scratching nails over his skin until he shivers. Eventually, she reaches his ass and pinches him there too. "I know you normally fill me up, but I want you full today too. Can't have you starving all day while you stuff me."

Steve gasps. Shifting in her lap. He's grown even more wet now. God.

Natasha doesn't say anything more, just raises an imposing eyebrow at him.

"Yes, yes please, I- anything you want, I want you to, to, mmm, yes, d-do that-" he stumbles over his words even worse as Natasha runs her fingers between his cheeks, over his asshole, and to his wet entrance. Her fingertips just tease him. Then. She pulls away. Oh, God, he gasps.

She leans over enough to access their bedside table and pulls out one of their vibrators. Steve gasps again, not in complaint but in anticipation. The vibrator is not the biggest one in there but... one that could stay in for a long time. Smooth and just thick enough without being too thick. It's a powerful vibe too. Not one to play around with 🥴

Natasha asks him if he wants it.

Steve does. He really does. His core throbs with want. He wants to be stuffed full like that while he works hard to stuff Natasha with food to her liking. Her command.

Natasha moves forward, pushing them both down onto the bed. Steve under her, herself on top.

Steve moans, flattened under her.

He feels smothered into the bed under her weight.

Quickly, her hands cleverly find his entrance and tease him with the vibrator until he can take it in one smooth, slow, deep slide. She knows he's wet enough and he likes the way the stretch feels. Burning. Obvious.

Oh, oh, ohhh.

Natasha gives him only a minute to process the feeling before digging her hands into his hip and ordering him, "breakfast. I'm hungry, baby." Lifting off of him. Giving him space to clumsily roll off of the bed and go and fetch her too much food, all the while clenching because although he wasn't ordered to not let the toy fall out... he doesn't want to chance disobeying her.

Too much food. Steve fetches her all the food she wants - enough to make multiple trips needed, multiple full breakfast trays.

While he gathers the fixings, Natasha slips into an easy mini-dress. She doesn't bother with a bra, but she does slip on panties. Mostly because she knows it drives Steve crazy to see her panties when her dress starts to slide up as her belly demands more and more space. Also, because she's almost too big for this dress and she feels like growing out of it while wearing it.

Steve delivers breakfast, walking into the bedroom with a tray in his hands. Natasha eats it, sparing just enough food for Steve to have his own breakfast. She tells him exactly what to eat and he does. She tells him when to grind down and when to clench on the toy and he does. He already wants to come but she won't let him.

Not too long after the multi-course breakfast is done, Steve delivers snacks, walking into the bedroom with handfuls of family-sized share bags. Natasha destroys them all. She only starts panting at the tail end. Her capacity never fails to astound Steve. He can't imagine what it feels like for her to be so, so stuffed full. A huge boulder of fat and food attached to her middle. Steve thinks, a little, about grinding into it and has to stop himself. He throbs. He aches. But he can't. Natasha hasn't said so.

Eventually, Steve delivers lunch, walking into the bedroom with another tray. His arms are shaking, he doesn't understand where this is going to go and how it's going to fit in her 🥴. Natasha packs it all away. Jesus. But... as she eats, she turns on the vibrator inside Steve. So, Steve sounds like he's the one struggling. Panting, biting down whimpers. Squirming. Dripping. His connection between pleasing Natasha, feeding Natasha, and his own sexual pleasure is fully reinforced.

Steve brings her more snacks later. And...

By the time dinner comes, Natasha is full.

Full. Full. Full.

Natasha's gut is no longer soft and gurgle-y because it's not stuffed and so hungry. Now, Natasha's gut is rock hard, stuffed taut, and gurgle-y because the food inside her is trying and trying and trying to find new space, knowing that Natasha is not going to stop eating and it should get out of her way.

Steve is different too. He's no longer walking in and out of the bedroom where Natasha is parked, fat and full, on their bed.

He's ordered dinner from Natasha's favorite restaurant and he's holding the bag of it not in his hands but between his teeth. He's holding it in his mouth. Because. He's on his hands and knees.

Crawling.

Steve is crawling now.

He can't fucking stand. His legs are shaking and his head is swimming as he vibrates with arousal from watching Natasha laze about and grow and grow, fuller and fuller, all the while Steve gets to lay by her side like a beloved pet. Steve is also literally vibrating with arousal because he's still got the vibrator in. And the rumbling is controlled by the remote at Natasha's fingertips. On and off. On and off. On on on. Off. On.

Steve has to crawl. He's too strung out. He's dripping. He can hardly contain himself, watching Natasha huff and puff and force down the last of her food. She moans and complains about her skin. It feels so tight. And it's only going to get tighter...

Dinner just came.

She's not letting the food go to waste. She's going to eat it all. And Steve has to rub her tight, full belly for her as she stuffs her face. She would order him to feed her, but the vibrations trembling through him mean he'd spill everywhere anyway. Plus, she jokes that Steve's shaking will be like having a massage chair for her belly rather than her feet. It'll feel good. Steve doesn't need any more encouragement. He wants to get his hands on that belly. Now.

He does. She feels unbelievably good. Hard. Fat. Hot.

Natasha can't even burp anymore. She's so, so full. There's no gas or air. It's an entire ball of food attached to her. Stretching her fat out to look a little less thick. Her stretch marks are even more red than normal under her dress. Straining.

Steve is not painfully full, but he's whining like he is. He is this close to rubbing his t-dick against her taut gut now that he's close enough too. Sitting in what's left of her lap, rubbing her gut. And her gut...

Oh, God.

Steve doesn't understand how she's still squeezed into her mini-dress. She looks like her fat should he popping the seams, spilling out like Pillsbury biscuit dough. How?

Her mini-dress... Steve imagines that the fabric of her dress would feel so nice against him. It would be the perfect type of friction on his t-dick and the soaked surface of his thighs and between his thighs too. 🥴🥵 He can already feel it. It makes his head spin. He barely restrains himself from squeezing her as hard as he can, trying to not spontaneously orgasm right in her lap, completely untouched.

And, fuck, as if reality is bending to the fever-hot thoughts that are rushing through Steve's mind, Natasha's dress is FINALLY rolling up more and more as she stuffs her face. Moaning, groaning, burping as much as she can around the desperate mouthfuls. She's scarfing down like she hasn't seen food in years. Her panties are fully exposed. Steve would be able to see them if he moved his head, looking around - looking under - her massive tummy.

Then there's an inch or two of her gut on display. The dress is so, so tight that the part of her belly that is exposed pushes out a few inches from the part of her gut still constricted. Steve cannot imagine how fucking massive she's going to be once her dress is forced up to her tits, resting just under them. Leaving her gut fully bare.

Natasha sucks down her soda through a straw, gulping, gulping, gulping. It's so much. So much that Steve swears he can see her expanding.

She's making sounds that he's never heard before. It's indescribable. She's clearly overfull and struggling. Pushing her own limits. Steve wants to go back to rubbing her but he's frozen, hands hovering, as her dress rolls up her gut.

He'll be able to rub himself against her taut, bare flesh soon. And she'd get so slick with his wetness, leaking out from around his vibrator. Steve uncontrollably shudders, imagining her breathy, exhausted voice commanding him to completely lick his mess off of the globe of her belly. His slick and his come. Clean it with his tongue. Leave her gut shiny and clean. No hands allowed.

Oh, God.

Steve whines like he's dying. The sound just gets worse - louder - when the dress screams. The seams want to split as Nat keeps pushing herself further and further. Fatter and fatter. They don't split. The dress rolls up faster than Steve could snap his fingers and her gut spills the rest of the way out.

Her gut hangs out.

Tighter than tight. Bright, hot red. Her stretchmarks have little pin-pricks of red dots around them. She is getting more stretch marks. Right now.

She could actually pop.

Fuck.

Natasha moans the way she does when she comes. Ragged. Almost growling. Completely whiped out and satisfied.

Steve can't make a sound. He can't move. He can't breathe. If he does... anything he does... it's going to set him off. He doesn't know if he will explode or if he will come or if there's a difference.

Natasha snaps her greasy fingers and gestures frantically toward her pussy, or, more accurately, she gestures past her gut, "face. Get, unngh, get your face, uh, uh, ah-against my pussy. Lick me. I wanna come. I don't think-I can't move. God."

Steve can do nothing but obey. He wants to lick her. He wants to drink her in. Every fat, stretched-to-the-edge-of-her-capacity inch.

Just as Steve dives in, impatiently pulling her panties to the side, she turns the vibrator on high and permits him to orgasm, touch himself, and even hump the fucking bed, just so long as he doesn't fucking stop eating her out until she tells him to. She wants to come. She wants to come a few times. Helplessly turned on by how huge she has managed to get.

#ask #mylevisdontfitanymore #belly kink #text #stuffing #weight gain #steve rogers #romanogers #steve rogers × natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #chubby natasha

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hongkongartman-mlee · 7 months

Text

Waning Interest In Nightlife—Our Past Glory And What Are The Challenges Of The Night-time Economy In Hong Kong?

Some said, “I am all about nightlife. I live during the night.” Some said, “In nightlife, you can become a star. While in the daytime, you can be a nobody.” Some said, “I don’t like going out. I hate clubs. I hate being around too many people.”

A clothes vendor in the well-known Temple Street Night Market in Hong Kong told South China Morning Post, “The Street seemed lifeless and quiet, with many other stallholders gone for the day. I have been running this stall for more than 40 years and business had never been this bad.” The newspaper reported that in better times, Temple Street presented a mix of old and new. It drew visitors who swarmed its numerous stalls selling clothes, souvenirs, jade, antiques and watches. Traditional fortune-tellers beckoned and Cantonese opera singers performed late into the night, while dai pai dong (‘hawkers’) food stalls dished out everything from chili crab to steamed fish. The subdued state of the street market reflects the situation across the city, alongside the trend of Hongkongers heading to mainland Chinese cities such as Shenzhen to enjoy weekends.

Last night, I went to Tsim Sha Tsui, the touristy area, to look for a restaurant at 9:30p.m. Some were closed. Many were preparing for closing. It was a deeply depressing scene.

Many in Hong Kong, since 1970s, had wandered around in the streets at night until they found no place to stay or nobody else to hang with at midnight.

Hong Kong used to be energetic, boisterous and loud after 8 p.m. The urban noise was constant. Neon lights were colourful, bright and reliable. Such signs took a rest only at AM hours. Shopping, dining, night-time snacking, singing, massage, clubbing and socializing were everywhere.

Some attributed the night-life decline to the lack of tourists who can afford. Some suggest that the lifestyle of people here have changed: they feel happier on emotional front at home. They would rather enjoy online shopping, watching Netflix, cooking, meeting cyber-friends and gym exercising—avoiding being overstimulated by others. Some put the blame on the poor economy of Hong Kong because people want to spend less. Some venue operators complain that there is a serious shortage of 20% manpower in Hong Kong and they cannot hire enough workers who are interested in night-shift work. Some lament that more than 200,000 people have emigrated from this city. Others explain the social phenomenon by the outflux of more than 300,000 local people on Saturday and Sunday for ‘weekend getaways’ to the Greater Bay Area cities in Guangdong. Some feel that the government’s controls on hawkers and street busking are too tight. Some comment that the local handicrafts sold are not attractive or creative.

A vibrant and mixed ‘night-time economy’ is important as it can encourage tourism, boost the local spending power and contribute to shaping trendy places where people want to live. This is why some youngsters like to live near Soho, Central. The night-time economy also makes a significant contribution to the employment situation. To the dismay of the government, people in Hong Kong tend to spend less and less. We are an aging population and more and more citizens survive on savings. Thus, saving money produces a sense of security, especially when people are older. Night activities which eat away at one’s bank balance is considered quite unnecessary. Economically, we are facing a recession. Consumptions inevitably slow down especially for expensive nightlife entertainments inclusive of pubs, bars, nightclubs and shows.

From a family’s point of view, it is not a good idea to suggest staying out late at night. Being out late at night can expose teenagers or girls to various safety hazards such as encountering bad people, getting involved in altercations, or becoming victims of crimes. Staying awake through the night takes a toll on physical health. Fatigue and low energy levels in the daytime may worsen work performance. Parents should return home early and spend more time with children. Children will feel that their parents value them. In the old days, a lot of parents in Hong Kong went back home after 10p.m. and the poor parent-child interactions would harm a child’s development. People should be attracted by the happy moments of a family, instead of the desire and seduction typically associated with night activities outside.

For myself, I want the services sector such as doctors, hairstylists, physiotherapists and herbal treatment centres to close later, ideally till 10p.m. Many people are like me—always in a rush during the day and it will be excellent if we could spend few hours after work on personal grooming and healing. Is this night-time economy?

London, New York, Paris and Amsterdam are the great cities, when it comes to ‘night-time cultural economy’. Cinemas, musicals, light shows, plays, stand-up comedies, opera, ballet, dance and concerts, are abundant and liven up the night. These cultural places make the whole area full of vitality. Look at the number of pizza restaurants in New York for a midnight snack! Hong Kong may follow and use evening cultural activities to captivate the younger tourists who are more educated.

In mainland China, some hospitals have extended their operating hours. The official said, “Any attempt to get people to spend more money at night is a good idea.” The thing to watch out is that the late-night operating hours may not necessarily bring the same ratio of income compared with day-time operating hours.

Ernest Hemingway told us, “Night is always darker before the dawn and life is the same.” Extending business hours will not help our economy much. Recalibrating the tourism fundamentals of Hong Kong towards cultural attractions is the more appropriate direction.

Maurice Lee

Chinese Version 中文版: https://www.patreon.com/posts/xiang-gang-60zhi-93391105?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator&utm_content=join_link

Hong Kong Wanchai Night Market https://youtu.be/OkRU0NKumz4?si=LfP0uMbzK8wQcXCG Acknowledgement - hokoonho

Hong Kong Temple Street https://youtu.be/zucAog03Ucc?si=b6kLiRf5J3NjEiw7 Acknowledgement – 看見香港

Hong Kong at Night https://youtu.be/01G05Z8rC1Y?si=ulmwG6iVMnyJNaz1 Acknowledgement-Island Hopper TV Travel Highlights

Sheung Wan Gala Point https://youtu.be/y8dtrv0tJ1M?si=KzxOj20uBAi4f04A Acknowledgement-Mike Ling

Song 《兩相依》 https://youtu.be/Kvo9uOt405A?si=xjYR9-MwZXMefbTh Acknowledgement – charmer0966

#Temple Street Night Market #Dai Pai Dong #Cantonese Opera

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modx-reborn · 3 years

Text

It Dosen't Feel Like Falling

One of the three fic's I have been working on! I felt like it was high time I did another DreamXD piece and as I do write for Philza that I do a full piece with him in it.

This is inspired by an ask I had gotten once. So! Here we are, two in one!

SMUT UNDERCUT! MINORS DNI!

Old gods, new, gods, server gods, the minor gods with the name of admin. You had met them all, served under just as many as you had met and yet here you are, serving another serve god when you could have branched off, made your own server, reached beyond what you had been before but no of that seemed appealing to you. Days of crafting landscapes, months of an empty plane as mortals come and go not settling as you would have invited them to do, just a total lack of appeal.

But working under one of the established gods? Now that you can do, this is familiar and easy to work around, even if this was the third server you had served in.

Unlike the others, this servers god was very shall we say inactive in the early days of the server, not really doing much bar sending you to pass messages to the admins and keep the portal to the server clear of the unwelcome.

In doing this you met someone new, a traveller with letters from the server tales of what had been going on with one of the mortals that had been building and bombing each other as of late. Each time he came to the server entrance he would wave the letters at you, asking when he could come through even just for a visit to the one sending the messages, but every time you only could tell him 'No one comes to visit here, if you step through you cannot leave.'

Each time you told him the same look would pass over his face as he looked at the portal, longing but confused, it's not till he comes back with no letter in sight just his cloak and a small bag that you get a name and an explanation for his eagerness for a visit.

His name was Philza, a man that much like yourself had spent years serving one of the older gods and earning his title of the angel of death, and through the portal lay his son. A young man he called Wilbur, telling you this and that from the letters, flitting every now and then to the bag to reach for something only to change his mind, likely some of his son's letters lay inside.

The visit felt like a bid for him to earn your favour so that he could eventually walk the path to the server his son had settled in, yet time and time again he returns. No letters insight, but looking to hold a conversation with you, enjoying the access to someone that may be just as old as he is, if not older, it's enjoyable, to say the least having someone to chatter with on these long periods that you spend perched on top of the entrance portal.

It's almost a friendship if not for the vast difference in your roles, especially when the day comes that he holds an actual invite to the server, the portal is now open to him and he looks so happy as he calls to you. Excitedly calling out that he was finally going to see his son, that even if he couldn't come back the way he came right this second he was finally going to see the person he had been so eager to visit.

But we all know how that tale ends, you were unfortunate enough to have not been at the portal that day, standing beside the server god as he flicks through image after image of the server. Marking areas and places for things to come, writing out invites that will beckon new faces and bring new activities, but one of the images hold stead against the shifting masses, an image of the large settlement that had been in strife since day one.

There amongst the rubble stands your friend, the crow winged man Philza, cradling the body of what you assumed to be his son.

That was death, a final one for this server of three lives, the list of active mortals blinks with two lost names, but your god XD barely reacts, casting his hand across the list and marking their deaths as true, there would be no coming back from that not without XD stepping in and granting them life once again.

Days after that are spent in the endless white halls of the server gods realm, pointing other servants of the world to their duties, never far from the main hub where XD would oversee the server.

"My lord, if I may I have a question for you?"

"And what would that be little one? It is not often one of you who serve have questions."

"I just wanted to ask about the crow, I grew rather fond of him when he was attempting to visit the realm in the early days and I-"

"No."

The abrupt answer stops your questioning, most times anyone talks with XD he is not this blunt, rather sticking to the vague and avoidance of clear answers and yet here he is, clearly expressing a dismissal of your question and bringing more questions to mind.

"My lord what do you mean-"

"It means no little one. No, I will not tell you about the crow or what he may be up to. No, I will not let you into the server to see him, and it means no more questions are to be asked do you understand?"

Server gods do tend to be possesive of their underlings in the presence of other gods, but the crow was a mortal now, bound to a law of another server that was allowed to carry over with him. Blessed or cursed depending on the person, to have only one life and one life alone, but the way XD had reacted was beyond how he would when any of those in his service would be baited into another gods control.

Yet you had not served as long as you had to know that blind loyalty would get you what you want, letting the subject drop and returning to your watch over the server alongside XD.

The moment you had an excuse to leave his side, being called to aid one of the admins in cleaning something from the server did you start to act out. Leaving the admins side to search out Philza, using the knowledge you have of how often XD was watching to weave your way around till you found him, sitting locked away in a house amongst the rebuilt city. Knocking against his door before slipping in, knowing that XD rarely watched inside the mortal's homes, not being interested in watching what went on inside.

This was all you needed to anchor a point of entry for yourself in the home of the crow, watching how his face lit up at the sight of you, springing to his feet and reaching out to take your hands in his own. Seeming excessively happy at the sight of you, pulling you into another room of his home offering you a seat and something to drink, accepting despite knowing you would get nothing out of the substance.

"Been a long time since I last saw you mate! How have you been? Still posted out by the portal, or have you been moved?"

"No no I am no longer by the portal, X-Ahh the lord prefers to have me help with the observations. Actually, I am not even meant to be here right now..."

The look you cast at him when you admit to breaking the god's rule is pure mischief, one that he returns with a slight laugh, knowing exactly what it has been like to the same.

"Well regardless I am glad to have some company, not many people come round these days. Landed myself on the-ahh wrong side of things for the moment, tried to keep someone safe is all."

The visit is short knowing that you would be cutting it close even as you left Philza's home, quickly returning to the post you had abandoned temporarily, not even batting an eye when XD looks down at you. He may not have visible eyes when he wears the mask that mimics his head admin, but you can feel the way he looks at you, trying to unravel just why you were so happy now that you were back.

Things are quick to change between you and the server god when you would normally stand beside him, now one of his many hands are keeping you seated in his lap, unrelenting in their grip on your waist. Trapped in the truest sense and even when you dare to attempt to ask why the only response you are given is a distorted 'mine' and the hands-on you waist tightening their grip.

There are a few more sneaky visits to Philza when you are allowed onto the server, your friendship shifting more and more each time, the hands the guide you to sit in his now tundra bound home linger longer than before, friendly gaze now turning dark when you come in your less casual and more revealing clothes meant for the work you had been planned to aid in.

Somedays even having to bat him away as he follows you back to your return point, laughing when he grabs you trying to keep you from the portal back, enjoying the time you spend together and basking in the understanding that another servant of the gods can bring. Letting yourself slip further from the idea of friendship as well, welcoming the lingering touch and brushing your hands over some of the dark feathers as you pass him by.

All in all, it is a dance around each other to find out who will be the first to falter and give in, enjoying the play as much as you do the person you are playing with despite the way you know in the back of your mind that XD is watching, building to whatever punishment may be coming for defying him and his 'No' from so long ago.

But the punishment you face is so different from what you had in mind, thoughts of being stripped of your service and made mortal being the main ones and yet this outcome is not unwelcome after all these days under watch and quite blatantly breaking a rule that had been set for you and you alone.

Today had been another chance to break free of the hands holding you to the server god, another day that you could spend with someone that had become dear to you. But when it came time to leave Philza's lingering hands stop you, pulling you close and pressing his head to your own, eyes flicking across your face before he speaks.

"You don't have to leave you know dove, you could stay here for a little while longer..."

And so you are made weak, nodding and giving in, letting him lead you back into his home, hands pulling at each other's clothes and stripping down till skin meets skin. Minds to caught in each other to feel the static building in the air, foretelling the arrival of someone that had laid claim to you long before the crow had even known of anything like you.

It's the moment when you are bent over, braced on all fours as he holds your hips to his, buried in you, leaning over you to place more marks on your bare skin looking forward to the blooming marks that will likely not survive past the next few hours, not that he cared. But in how you moan at the feeling of his lips on your skin, you hear the static once again only this time it's not just noise.

Before you forms XD, your lord, god of the server and from how green light is spilling from the cracks of his mask, and his ever manifested hands reach for you lifting your head and pulling you away from the hybrid that had been fucking into you and making you sing, the actual physical hand of your lord wraps around your throat not squeezing just reminding you that he is in control.

His mask is tilted away from you, pointed at the man behind you, whose hands have once again found their way to your hips hoping beyond hope to pull you back and away from the being that had just manifest in his home.

"They are MINE crow, not yours. There is nothing here for you, no matter what you may think, no matter what may happen they are mine."

Any words that may have come from you is lost when your lord's grip falters for a mere second allowing you to be pulled back and into Philza's chest when he speaks, the ghostly hands of XD now pressing into your mouth silencing you as they press against your tongue, a clear show that this was between the hybrid and the god.

"I do believe they chose me mate, seeing as they are here with me, breaking your rules and taking my cock like a good little thing. Not yours."

The pressure on your jaw increases for a moment before distorted laughter fills the air, the bottom half of XD's mask dissolving to show a sharp smile, the display nothing but teeth in truth.

"Maybe so crow but so long as they serve me, they will belong to me. You can have your fun, but not alone."

The few sections of the conversation that reach your mind are muddled the moment your legs are spread once again, still pressed flush to Philza's chest he is quick to lift and line himself up once again, using how you are seated in his lap to have you sink down on his length, once again being fully sheathed in you. While the ethereal hands in your mouth dissipate letting you release an almost feral noise at being filled once again.

To soon after your mouth is emptied are you being pulled forward, the hands of your lord forcing you down onto all fours, putting you at the perfect height for him to press the head of his cock to your lips using the way your mouth falls open as Philza starts to move to press in, weaving a hand into your hair guiding you further and further down his length with every jolt forwards.

The god's doubled voice was louder than the sounds of skin on skin, and even your own choked noises.

"That's it little one, take all of me. It's time you knew your place, you can play with the mortals all you like but you will always come back to me. Always."

And he was right, even if you kept sneaking down here to see philza there were things beyond explanation that bound you too XD, and yet feeling the way Philza was fucking you, thrusting with little care for how it was making you almost choke on the length that was already pressing into your throat was intoxicating in its own way.

There was nothing to prepare you for what was about to come, hearing XD release a breath before his hips begin moving in a proper sense, short thrusts turning to rough snaps of his hips, using your mouth to chase his own pleasure. Watching how tears began to build and fall from your eyes, his smile still nothing but teeth as he fucks your face at the same pace as Philza was.

Neither mortal nor god was caring at that moment for anything beyond showing you their claim on you, from the drool that had slicked your chin as XD kept up his brutal use of your throat, to the bruising grip on your hips as Philza finally begins to find his end. The crow hybrid giving in to the feeling of you clutching around him even though throughout this ordeal neither of them had been focused on your own pleasure.

Selfish they may have been, but there is something that feels so good about being pressed between a mortal that had worked his way into your care and the god of which you had sworn service to, despite the voice in the back of your mind that whines when Philza pulls himself from you his hands moving from your hips to spreading your cheeks to watch how his cum drips from your hole there is nothing but want still colouring your thoughts.

Strings of spit connect you too XD when he pulls free from your mouth, ethereal hands once more form to grab at you, pulling you away from Philza and into the god's lap.

"What comes next little one is for my eyes only."

You can feel a brief moment when Philza tried to reach for you, fingers slipping through the fading form of you and the server god, leaving him alone on his bed.

#c: philza #c: dreamxd #dsmp smut #k: face fucking #k: marking #possessive behavior #mxad

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phr0gie · 3 years

Text

sleep softly, love; genshin impact

synopsis: how i think certain genshin impact characters would fall asleep next to you for the first time :)

note: hihi! so i finally feel like i’m caught up enough in genshin lore that i can start actually writing for it!! yay!! anyways, i’m sorry if my portrayal of them is a lil ooc, i’m still getting used to writing for them. still, i hope you guys enjoy! :D

pairings: xiao x reader, diluc x reader

tw: mentions of nightmares and death in xiao’s, mentions of alcohol and suggestive themes in diluc’s, ooc characters, mostly j fluff, not proof read (oops)

wc: 2k

masterlist

xiao:

the first few times you bring up sleeping next to him he’s probably going to turn you down

you see, xiao doesn’t really need to sleep, nor does he want to

he finds the idea of lying in a comatose state for eight hours in complete darkness to be “weird” and a “waste of time”

and his opinion on the matter doesn’t change for a while

that is, until you confess to him you’ve been having nightmares

these nightmares were like nothing you have ever had before

they shook you to your very core and, rather than the dream just leaving your mind after you woke up, they followed you around for days

once you confide in xiao about these terrors, he grows very concerned

in the past he’s known people who have been plagued with nightmares as a result of a dangerous curse that, more often than not, ended in death

the thought of you, the person he cares about most, succumbing to such a terrible fate frightens him more than anything — not that he’ll ever admit this to you.

and so, reluctantly, xiao agrees to spend the night with you

just this once, to protect you

You roll over to face him and for a moment he panics. To Xiao’s knowledge, couples who slept together often cuddled with each other. While he did occasionally enjoy a few close moments with you, Xiao couldn’t say he was very taken with the idea of physical contact — especially in a situation that left him so vulnerable. To his relief, however, you stay on your side of the bed. Your hand rests on top of your pillow and slowly, almost cautiously you maneuver it so it’s lying a bit closer to Xiao — a silent invitation to hold your hand, is what the adeptus recognizes it as. This gesture was not foreign to him, you did things like this often. You always kept your hand outstretched to him. Even if he were to pull away or turn his back, your hand was still there. You were still there.

“Xiao.”

Your gentle voice catches his attention immediately. As he looks into your eyes all he can see is admiration, his heart clenches at the feeling it gives him.

“Thank you,” you say softly, “for being here for me like this.”

Xiao simply nods his head at you in response.

“Sleep,” he whispers, his tone commanding yet soft, “I will be here when you wake.”

He desperately wants to say more. To let you know that he would always be there for you, that no challenge would ever be too difficult if it was for you, that he would rip the moon from the night sky if it meant that you would rest a little easier. Yet, the kind smile you give him shows that he need not continue. You know he loves you, you have never once doubted it. You are aware of the burden he carries and how it affects him. You know that one day he will be able to share with you the confessions of love and vulnerability that are buried deep inside him. For now, this is enough. He is enough. And so, with a content smile you snuggle even further into your pillow.

“Goodnight, Xiao.” You whisper before finally closing your eyes.

Xiao stares at your resting form for a while. It is not until your breathing evens out and he is sure you are asleep do his eyes flicker from your face to your hand lying closely to him. All of the sudden, an overwhelming urge to hold you in some way overtakes the adeptus. Again, Xiao was not the biggest fan of physical affection, however, something about you looking as peaceful as you do in this moment evokes something from him. And so, he decides to finally accept your invitation. As his palm meets yours in a tight hold — not tight enough to wake you, of course — Xiao allows himself to indulge in the warmth and safety you provide him, just this once.

Neither of you have any nightmares that night.

diluc:

you and diluc are in a fairly new relationship.

having just started seeing each other a few months ago, it’s only natural to not have done anything too domestic quite yet.

not to mention, our ever stoic winery owner is a bit shy when it comes to his affections.

the two of your were every content with your soft, simple touches.

hand-holding, hugging, and subtle kissing kept you both very satisfied.

until you decide to get drunk at dawn winery.

your work has been k i l l i n g you recently

commissions are beginning to pile up, hilichurls have invaded the area you were supposed to scout next, and you couldn’t help but think that you were getting a bit rusty with your weapon.

all and all, you are very stressed out.

you desperately want a chance to relax.

originally, you had planned on just having a drink or two and ranting to your ever so reliable boyfriend.

however, a drink or two turned into three, then four...

before you knew it you couldn’t remember how many you had and it was rather late.

being the gentleman that he is, diluc forces offers you his bed for the night

seeing as you were in no condition to return home on your own, he has no choice.

it’s the responsible decision.

however, he’s still very flustered about the whole ordeal

Dulic thinks you are a handful. Especially right now.

He huffs as he attempts to open his bedroom door one-handed. The other appendage preoccupied with keeping you slumped against his side so that you don’t fall over.

“I knew you shouldn’t have had that last glass of dandelion wine.” He mumbles, gently scolding you.

You simply blink up at him, a bored expression on your flushed face.

“You sayin’ I can’t hold my alcohol?” you hiccup, “I’ll show you…”

You attempt to push off of him, but his hold on you tightens.

“No,” he grunts, “You won’t.”

Finally the door opens and Diluc lets out a sigh of relief. Swiftly he lifts you up — earning a small ‘woah’ and a giggle from you — and carries you over to his bed. He then sets you down and turns to his dresser to get you some clothes to sleep in. He picks out a large, white, long-sleeved undershirt and. Your lips curl into a suggestive smirk and you chuckle.

“Oooh,” you tease, “Master Diluc how bold of you, are you going to dress me?”

The pyro user looks absolutely mortified but you pay no mind to it, too busy laughing and hiccupping at your own joke. A prominent blush grows on Diluc’s face as he shuffles over to you.

“Of course not!” he stutters, dropping the clothing article gently on your head. He then grabs a pile of his own clothes and makes a beeline to the door. Just as he is about to exit he turns to you.

“Wait here,” he instructs, “and try not to fall asleep yet.”

And with that, the Diluc dashes down the hall, presumably leaving you to get changed. You do just that, tugging off your shirt and removing your bottoms. You huff as you lift your boyfriend's shirt up and over your head. As soon as the garment falls over your shoulders and past your knees, you’re hit with the rich scent of chestnuts and mahogany — the scent of Diluc. His undershirt is so baggy and so warm that you cannot help but feel at ease, Diluc always did have a way of making you feel safe — whether it was the hand he always places on the small of your back when he guides you around town or the look in his eyes when he spots you across the room, so sure that you’re the one he’ll always search for. The red-head returns a moment later clad in a dark, short-sleeved undershirt, similar to the one he gave you, and a pair of soft pants. In one hand, Diluc holds a fresh glass of water and in the other a pillow that seems to be smaller than the ones laid out in his bed. Diluc gently sits on the edge of the bed and pats the spot next to him, beckoning you to sit next to him. As soon as the bed dips with your weight, Diluc is handing you a cup of water.

“Drink,” he instructs once again, “so your hangover doesn’t kill you tomorrow.”

You do as you're told, dutifully downing the refreshing liquid. The minute your lips leave the cup he takes it from you, setting it on his bedside table. Then, Diluc picks you up once more and positions you so you are laying properly on the bed. He pulls the covers out from under you and makes sure you’re tucked in well.

“There,” he says finally, pulling the comforter up to your chin, “are you comfortable?”

However, he does not receive an answer. You’re already half asleep, head slumped against the pillow, mouth hanging wide open. Diluc smiles in spite of himself. He should be mad at you, he knows he should. But, as you lay there with your hair a mess, wearing one of his shirts, in his bed, Diluc cannot help but fall even more hopelessly in love with you. Stroking your hair a few times, he finally leaves a light kiss on your forehead. Hesitantly, he gets up, being very careful not to jostle you. He’s about to head to his living room to sleep, but he can barely make it two steps away from the bed before a hand shoots out and grabs his wrist. He turns to see you, still snug in his bed, a pout adorning your features.

“Where’re you goin?” You grumble out sleepily.

Diluc looks at you curiously.

“I’m going to let you sleep,” he whispers, “You need to rest.”

He attempts to remove your hand but your grip only tightens. Suddenly you pull him down, your faces only inches apart. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your forehead against his.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice soft — so soft that Diluc doesn’t think he would have heard it if he weren’t so close to you, “stay.”

The blush from earlier creeps back up Diluc’s neck and rests upon the apples of his cheeks. Hearing you plead for him like this evokes a sense of warmth within the pyro user. He’s never felt so wanted before you. Ultimately, Diluc gives in and indulges you — how can he not? Crawling into bed next to you, he stiffens when you rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around his torso. Diluc stays up a little while after you doze off, admiring you.

Diluc thinks you are a handful. However, he thinks he can handle it if at the end of every day he gets to hold you like this.

please do not steal or repost my work, thank you!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #xiao x reader #xiao headcanons #xiao #diluc x reader #diluc headcanons #diluc #frog.fiction

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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

The Warrior Experience; ft. the Marley Warriors

Rating: Explicit; mdni

Pairing: Zeke, Reiner, Porco, Pieck x fem!reader

Word Count: ~5.3K

Warnings: mildly dubious consent (reader isn’t exactly there of her own free will but is still dtf), multiple partners, voyeurism, virgin Colt, rough blowjob, rough sex, unprotected sex, mentions of unpleasant contraceptives, lots of cum, clear bias toward Reiner

A/N: I don’t know what happened today. I just got possessed by the horny ghost. Enjoy~

It’s always Magath who retrieves you, the sour-faced General swinging open the door to your small room without any type of knock or warning.

On most nights, he takes a look at you, frowns, then grunts the name of whoever is actually calling for you—requesting your “presence”. This evening, however, he remains silent, leaving it a mystery that keeps you curious as you make yourself slightly more presentable, pulling on a skirt, running a comb through your hair, just enough to look a little more human.

You walk in silence down the hallways, your hands clasped behind your back as the older man struts in his usual militaristic fashion. As you near the Warrior quarters, you do your best to prepare yourself, but without an idea of who you’re meeting, it’s difficult.

Because they’re all so different. Galliard, for instance, usually starts the nights off aggressively. He particularly likes slamming you into various surfaces, pinning you down with a bruising grip, but his demeanor changes as soon as he’s inside you. The once careless young man turns to jelly underneath you, gasping and groaning as his adrenaline wanes and he unravels.

Always tired and slightly unstable, Reiner is soft. Even when his thrusts are deep and harsh, his hands remain gentle, calluses feather light as they dance up and down your ribs, over your breasts. His stamina varies. Sometimes, when he’s a little more out of his head, a little more haunted, he ruts into you for what feels like an eternity. Most of those instances, he doesn’t even come. You’re just there for a distraction— “A nice one,” he tells you quietly, gratefully, but you still know where you stand with him.

There are nights when he’s desperate for release, however, taking you with quick, sloppy thrusts, spilling inside you within minutes then rubbing your clit until you squeeze him back to full hardness so that he can do it all over again.

Zeke is the hardest to predict, on far ends of one, sadistic spectrum: he either wants you to do all the work while he smirks up at you with a cigarette between his lips, occasionally blowing smoke into your face, or he wants to dominate you entirely. When he falls into the latter category, you’re in his bed for hours, sniffling or sobbing, biting your lip to keep yourself from begging him to stop—one, because he won’t listen, but also because it isn’t your place.

The Warriors are honorary Marleyans which means they’re much more important and valuable than you are. Your opinion never matters, least of all in the bedroom.

You’re more or less a toy for them to use, an Eldian plucked from Liberio and brought to the military base with no real say in it. The Warriors are all young and virile, after all. They have needs like anyone else, but despite their honorary status, they’re forbidden from sleeping with Marleyan women.

So, you live here, at their beck and call with one purpose and one purpose only.

To your surprise, Magath stops before you can get to the sleeping quarters you are very familiar with at this point. You stand outside of a closed door, raise an eyebrow at the General but don’t dare question him.

“They’re in there,” he grumbles, nodding to the door before turning around and walking away.

They…

Raising a suddenly very heavy hand, you knock lightly then shift awkwardly until the door opens and reveals Galliard. His perpetual scowl is in place, but he nods his head in acknowledgment then moves to the side to let you in.

Galliard isn’t the only one in the room—what looks like some kind of conference area with a sizable wooden table surrounded by chairs, a window on the far end displaying the night sky and twinkling stars. Nearly all of those chairs are full, one scooted back from the table that you can easily assume belongs to the redhead standing behind you.

Zeke is lounging comfortably, feet kicked up on the table as he puffs on a cigarette. Reiner is sitting in his chair backwards, slumped forward to rest his head on the wooden backing, though he lifts it to look at you with bloodshot eyes. Pieck, who you do not see often at all, is slouched with her arms pillowing her face, offering you a lazy smile that’s laced with something you cannot place.

There’s one more person in the room, the vaguely familiar face of Colt Grice, Warrior Candidate slated to inherit the Beast Titan in a few years. You’ve seen him around the base, usually trailing closely behind Zeke, but haven’t gotten the chance to speak with him yet.

You remain standing even as Galliard takes his seat again, nibbling on your bottom lip, waiting expectantly—nervously. The last time you were in a room with all of them at once was when you’d first been brought here, and that had just been for informal introductions. There had also been another Eldian with you at the time, a male to keep Pieck satisfied, but he’s… No longer with you.

In true leader fashion, Zeke is the first to speak after taking a long drag from his cigarette, tilting his head back to blow it into the air and creating a haze over himself.

“Glad you could join us tonight, sweetheart,” he shows a short, unconvincing smile, and that paired with the condescending pet name leads you to believe he’s in one of his more controlling moods.

“I’m just glad to be able to service the Wa—”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to do all that,” he waves you off. “I’ll cut to the chase.”

“Let her sit down first, Zeke, geeze,” Pieck murmurs before holding a small hand out for you, beckoning you to take the seat next to hers.

Never one to argue or disobey, you shuffle over to it and lower yourself, but you can’t relax, not with so many pairs of eyes on you.

Galliard is twitchy, bouncing his leg up and down, pushing his hair back too often. Reiner, unmoving, just blinks slowly at you, expression flat. Grabbing your hand, Pieck offers a nod that isn’t the slightest bit reassuring while Zeke pins you with an icy gaze.

“Colt here is gonna be a big boy Warrior pretty soon,” he says, motioning to the boyish blond in the corner who suddenly seems more interested in the floor than anything. “And, he hasn’t been given the chance to have the experiences he deserves. You follow?”

You nod, easily putting the pieces together. They want you to sleep with him, some sort of sexual initiation.

“As I’m sure you’ve picked up, Titan holders don’t have the longest lifespans, so I figure he needs to enjoy what life he has left.”

Another nod, then you start to stand only to be stopped by Galliard who asks, “What’re you doing? Sit back down.”

“Oh,” you plant yourself back in the chair, eyes growing as your stomach sinks. “I thought you wanted me to show Colt—”

Zeke laughs around his cigarette, adding even more smoke to the air around you, and shakes his head. “No, you misunderstand. You will be showing Colt a thing or two tonight, but in here where we can all watch and… Lend a helping hand if need be.”

Mouth going dry, you can’t stop yourself from frowning. Sleep with Colt… In front of all of them? You don’t fancy yourself much of a performer, doubt you’ll be able to put on any kind of good show under so much pressure.

But, you can’t protest. You can’t go against their wishes or complain. You should consider yourself lucky, being able to service the Warriors. It means you’re a half-step above the other Eldians—a devil but a halfway useful one.

“Um. Okay,” you consent.

Zeke claps his hands together. “Excellent,” then tells you. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Go rinse off, do whatever you need to do to get ready, then meet us back here.”

You don’t dawdle, doing exactly what you’re told. The restroom is obviously for multiple people, a few stalls with cheap curtains to block you from view. You make quick work of bathing so that you’ll have time to prepare yourself, starting the process of stretching yourself while under the spray. With no idea how large Colt might be, and taking into account that he might be completely clueless about female anatomy, you make sure to work three fingers into your cunt, moving them as best you can until you’re a little loosened up and wet.

When you return to the conference room, you’re just in a towel, folded clothes under your arm and placed in an empty chair.

“Easy access,” Galliard smirks. “Good call.” You squeak when he slaps your ass then sit on the edge of the table as you’re directed to.

Most of them have shed their boots and jackets, looking a little more casual now. It doesn’t put you at ease—if anything, it makes you think the others will get a little more involved than Zeke originally let on, and the thought alone is enough to overwhelm you.

It takes some prompting for Colt to muster the courage to approach you. The others scoot to the edges of the room, giving the two of you center stage. It's daunting, but you do your best to forget about them, to focus on the nervous blond in front of you.

Spreading your legs, you pull him by the shirt to stand between them then look up at him through your lashes and ask, "Am I allowed to kiss you?" You can never assume. Everyone has different rules.

When you're with Reiner, he has his mouth against yours more than he doesn't, Galliard will nip and suck against every part of you that isn't your mouth, and the closest Zeke gets to your mouth is prying it open to spit on your tongue.

Naturally, Colt looks to his War Chief for answers, but Zeke just shrugs. "Your choice, big guy. You're the one calling the shots."

Colt contemplates for a little while but eventually nods and swallows. "Uh, yeah. That's okay, I guess."

He seems to feel just as awkward as you do about this whole situation, would also probably prefer for it to happen in private, but you imagine he's doing everything in his power to show that he's worthy of inheriting Zeke's Titan. He's basically in the same boat as you.

Reaching up, you lace your fingers behind his neck and pull him to you, pressing your lips to his slowly, softly, trying not to spook him too much.

After gaining as much experience as you have over the last year or so, it's rare for you to feel shy when getting intimate. Three of the other people in that room have seen everything there is to see about you, your most private of body parts, your most visceral, primal reactions. You have nothing to hide any more.

Colt is stiff against you. His hands are still by his sides, lips firm but unmoving.

He has no idea what to do. It's almost disappointing, knowing you're about to spend the evening teaching this kid, fresh faced, twenty years old at most and completely clueless.

You're saved when a gruff voice makes you pull away: "Alright, this is hard to watch." Reiner sits up and rubs his eyes, then swings his leg over the chair to stand and walk over. "Grice, have you ever even seen anyone kiss before?"

Cheeks turning red, Colt moves out of the way, stuttering out "W-well yeah, but I never watch."

The taller man takes the vacant space between your legs, and you inhale sharply when he slides a large hand to the back of your head, tilting your face even further upward. Reiner kisses you in a way that makes your head spin. He has that desperate taste he always has, and even without opening your eyes, you can tell he's frowning. But his hand is cautious, careful not to tug your hair just like he's careful not to knock his teeth into yours when he parts your lips with his.

"There we go," Zeke laughs, clapping twice and cheering, "'Atta boy, Braun!"

Reiner's tongue dances with yours in a heated back and forth for a few seconds before he pulls back. He doesn't smile, but he does sigh in a thoughtful manner before turning to Colt and pointedly telling him, "That's how you kiss a woman."

Reiner softly scratches the back of your head in a fond gesture, then steps away and motions for Colt to try again.

He's slightly more confident this time around, starting off slowly at first but eventually pushing against you harder and harder until it's a little much, and you just barely push at his chest to get him to let up. He replaces pressure with tongue, probing and curious but not awful.

"Undo her towel, Grice. Get a move on," Galliard demands.

Colt reaches up with a shaky hand, breathing through his nose while keeping his lips attached to yours as he pulls at the loose knot just above your breasts. The material falls and pools around you on the table, and before he can be criticized again, you grab one of Colt's hands and place it on one of the perky mounds. You move your fingers over his, showing how you like to be massaged then guiding him to your nipple.

"Oh, this is very romantic," Zeke drawls, snapping his fingers to get someone's attention then addressing, "Pock," who grunts in response. "You're a tit man, right? Your turn to show him how it's done."

The sound of a chair scraping on the floor rings throughout the room, but instead of pushing Colt out of the way, Galliard stands on the other side of the table behind you, bends forward, then grabs you by the hair to pull you down. The breath is knocked out of you as your back hits the table, and you blink up at the redhead in surprise.

Upside down, your face is about level with his hips, maybe a foot away from his pelvis, but before you can dwell on it, Galliard's rough hands are on your tits, groping, massaging, then pinching your nipples so that you arch and moan.

"Know I probably shouldn't like it so much, but you sound so pretty, baby," he growls, flicking over the hardened buds then squeezing again.

"We're all devils here. You can like it as much as you want," Reiner gruffs.

"Justifying your own feelings?" Zeke snarks.

You aren't able to see or hear Reiner's response, too busy whining as Galliard starts to slap your tits over and over, making the flesh burn and sting.

Porco groans, "Mm, love that bounce," hitting them a few more times then stopping and allowing you to take a shuddering breath.

Your body is hot all over, especially your chest, and your pussy is starting to throb. After playing with yourself in the shower, the heated kiss you shared with Reiner, and now the abuse Galliard just showered on your tits, you're starting to get restless, ready to be filled with something.

"While I'm right here, m'gonna show you somethin' else, Grice."

Galliard grips your upper arms and slides you closer to him on the table, then undoes his pants and pulls his cock free. As soon as you feel the tap on your lips, you open up for him, relaxing just in time for him to shove his length over your tongue and into the tight sleeve of your throat.

And, pride actually wells up inside of you. That hardly ever happens.

There's no time to acclimate really, your only choice being to just lay and take it, so you do, choking and gagging around Galliard's cock as everyone else watches. Tears stream down the sides of your face, but you feel them get wiped away and open bleary eyes to find Pieck peering down at you, soft hands catching the drops as she coos, "You're doing so good, love."

You squirm on the table, start to rock your hips into nothing—no one—in desperate need of friction now.

"You want something stuffed in that pussy?" Zeke calls out.

The vibration of your responding whine makes Galliard curse and thrust into your throat until your forehead is pressed against his heavy balls. Strings of spit leak from the corners of your mouth. You try to slurp and suckle, but the steady pistoning of Galliard’s hips just keeps pushing more out.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Colt, you wanna go for it, or do you wanna watch first?” Zeke questions.

“Um, I—I’ll watch first, I think.”

“Good choice. See how it’s done before diving in.”

You’re barely aware of the conversation around you, mouth full of cock, gentle hands on your face. Pieck must not be fazed by being so close to her comrade’s privates because she just keeps stroking and praising you, like she thinks you might break or lose it.

There are fingers on your wet folds, spreading them apart, then the harsh sound of spitting before a glob of thick fluid lands in your pussy. Zeke smears his saliva over your clit, and you buck under his touch, moaning when two thick digits are pushed into your heat all at once. Your cunt spasms around the intrusion, getting used to it as he continues the job you’d started in the shower.

“I don’t always do this sort of thing just ‘cause I like the way she feels all tight and tense on my dick, but if you don’t want her to whine as much, I’d advise prepping her with your fingers or mouth.”

You squirm and writhe, the glide of his fingers getting easier with every thrust as your hole drools slick onto the table beneath you. Zeke’s palm grinds against your clit, pressure and friction where you want it most for half a second before it disappears—comes back, disappears—until you’re forcing yourself down on his hand.

He lets out one of his standoffish little chuckles as you slide up and down Galliard’s length and fuck yourself on Zeke’s fingers, but the delicious sensation disappears entirely when Zeke pulls out, probably to work himself out of his pants, then presses the blunt head of his cock against your clenching hole. He pushes the tip in only to pull it back out, tap it against the swollen bundle of nerves a few times, then finally pushes in all the way.

You’re a little too far up on the table now, and Zeke doesn’t bother warning you or Galliard as he tugs you back down to better situate you on his cock, causing the other man to slip out of your mouth.

“Fuck man, I was getting close!”

Without a care in the world, Zeke shrugs him off, tells him, “Come on her face or something then, I don’t give a fuck.”

Your voice comes out hoarse as you moan for all of them to hear, teary eyes cracking open to see Galliard step back and lean against the wall behind him. His fist is tight around his shaft, but he’s pumping himself slowly, like he’s suddenly pacing himself despite just having fucked your throat raw.

A rough pinch to your nipple brings your eyes to Zeke, blond hair hanging in his face, glasses slipping down his nose. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, but other than that, he’s basically fully clothed. He’s flushed from his neck down to his chest, jaw barely hanging open as his eyebrows raise. He’s certainly enjoying himself, and you can’t say you aren’t because the drag of his thick cock in your pussy is incredible.

Your head lolls to one side and you find Colt staring at you with wide eyes, watching the way his superior sheathes himself in you over and over. It makes you blush, so you turn to the other side, see Reiner posted up in the corner, about half hard in his pants as he watches your face.

Mouth dropping open, you shut your eyes, trying to will away the skin-prickling sensation of being watched. You raise your arms above your head, hands dangling off the other end of the table, and Pieck takes them, squeezing once before lightly running nimble fingers over your sensitive skin.

You’ve never been with her, not that you’d be opposed. She’s very pretty and seems kind enough. But you had guessed you weren’t exactly her type. Now, though, you second guess yourself since she seems more than content with touching you.

The painful squeezes of Zeke’s fingers are batted away, replaced by the ghost of stimulation on your sore nipples. Pieck rubs over one so lightly you hardly register it, but it still shoots right to your pussy, makes you clench around Zeke.

He’s holding you by the hips now, pulling you onto his cock, and it goes like this for a while. At some point, the wet sound of Galliard jacking off fades, but you doubt he’s come; he’s typically quite vocal when he climaxes.

Zeke never lets up, fucking deep and fast and right over the spot that makes you leak until he suddenly pulls out and shoots strings of hot cum onto your thighs and the table between them.

“You don’t… Inside?” Colt speaks up.

Rubbing his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, Zeke answers, “Never. That’s preference, though. I just don’t want any accidents to happen.”

You would remind him that you go to the medic after every encounter you have with the Warriors to get checked out, given an unpleasant medicine that leaves you sick for a few days, but it’s hard to think straight right now.

Before Colt can move toward you again or any more questions can be asked, Galliard is rounding the table, cock in hand once again, shouldering Zeke out of the way so that he can bury himself in your pussy. He’s a shorter length than the man who was in you just moments ago, but a little thicker. Veiny and curved upward, Galliard always feels good inside of you. Unfortunately for you, he’s basically been edging himself since you were pulled from him, so he doesn’t last long at all.

Unlike Zeke, Galliard has no qualms about coming inside of you. You feel his seed fill you, mixing with your own wet arousal and making you drip with it when he pulls out.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he grins before giving your pussy a slap, making you push more of his cum out.

You hear someone suck in a deep breath, and Colt slowly shuffles over to you. He stares at your throbbing cunt for a while, raising a timid hand to stroke over now messy folds, and you let out a mewl, a very soft, “Please…”

Pieck places a tender kiss at your hairline that makes your heart jump into your throat, such a kind gesture as she murmurs against you, “You’re doing so well for them.”

“Can I—” You blink up at her face, floating upside down over yours. “Can I do anything f-for you, Pieck?”

She shows another one of those smiles, the kind that’s hiding a little something, and she shakes her head, wavy, black hair flowing over her shoulders. “I’m just enjoying watching. You’re very pretty to look at.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond, so you just let her keep touching you, keep cooing and doting. You’ll never say no to affection like this.

Colt doesn’t have any trouble finding your entrance, which is a relief. He lines himself up and pushes in painfully slowly, panting the entire time and letting out one very satisfying, “O-oh, shit.”

“Feels good, doesn’t she?” Zeke hums.

Colt nods, arms beginning to shake on the table. He seems to be holding himself back, whether it’s from coming or fucking into you is a mystery, but eventually he bottoms out and stays still save for his trembling. It isn’t uncomfortable, but you do feel very full, his hips flush against yours, cockhead nestled right up against your cervix. If he was any longer, you would definitely be in pain.

“Grice, you can move, you know,” Galliard jabs, but Colt just shakes his head.

“One second. Lemme just…” He shifts his hips some, not thrusting as much as grinding into you, and you cry out when he presses against that far wall.

You can feel Galliard’s cum leaking down the curvature of your ass, pooling with whatever of Zeke’s is left on the table. You’re so wet, noisy when Colt finally does start slowly pulling out and pushing in. The squelches echo in the conference room and make you cringe, but Zeke seems to appreciate it as he hums, “Listen to that sloppy pussy.”

“Like music to my fuckin’ ears,” Galliard adds.

Colt has trouble keeping an even pace, his hips stuttering often, but the ridge of his cock strokes over the sensitive spot inside you—the one that makes you drool and babble—almost every time. Your muscles clench around him, changing the sensation for both of you, and when that rhythm becomes even more erratic, you know he’s close.

“Fuck, fuck, I—”

“Just add to the mess. We’ll clean up later,” Zeke reassures him.

Colt’s eyes find yours for the first time since he started fucking you, searching for something like permission, so you nod and show a lazy grin.

“It’s okay, you can come in me.”

That sends him over, a strangled gasp ripping from his throat as he milks himself in your cunt. You can feel the pressure of building liquid inside you, pushing on your insides, but it wanes when Colt pulls out.

You feel swollen and used at this point, but your core is still hot with the desire to come. There’s a chance you won’t, especially now that Colt has finished, but you can always get yourself off in the privacy of your quarters if need be.

The freshly fucked blond receives a couple slaps on the back, some patronizing comments from his War Chief, and you take the time to just breathe and melt into the table, enjoying the way Pieck is stroking your hair now, smiling at the other Warriors.

Your eyes are just about to close when you see Reiner making his way over. He stands between your legs for a while, just looking over the damage, the slight discoloration of your chest, your raw nipples, mouth swollen from Galliard’s cock, then finally your used pussy.

His fingertips brush over sensitive skin, making you shudder, and you nearly cry when he asks, “You ready to get yours?”

You nod, sucking in an unsteady breath. Reiner mouths the word, “Okay,” then unbuckles his pants and pushes them down to his thighs, and the tears really do start to gather in your eyes now because Reiner is big, and you're already getting sore from three other cocks you've taken.

He rubs his hands up your thighs, tells you, “Wrap your legs around my waist,” which you somehow manage even though they’re weak with numbness.

Reiner doesn’t push in just yet, though you can feel his warm cock rubbing between your engorged lips. Instead, he slides his arms under your back and lifts you, turning so that he’s sitting on the table and you’re in his lap, ankles still crossed at his lower back.

“Just go at your own pace.” His voice is quiet, his mouth hovering just over yours, and here, like this, you almost forget about the others.

You lift yourself just enough to line his tip up with your leaking entrance then lower yourself onto his cock inch by inch. His girth stretches you, always burns just a little, even when you’re well prepared.

Your spongy walls make room for him, sucking him in even as you whine at his size. He waits for you to get settled, for you to start rocking, and only then does Reiner start moving. His cheeks are pink, light brown eyes nearly taken over by blown pupils, but the shift of his hips is slow and deliberate, hitting just where you need him to.

He keeps one hand at your back to help you balance, but his other moves down to press on the puffy flesh at the apex of your cunt. It forces your clit to rub against the coarse hairs on his pelvis, and you throw your head back as you finally, finally get that friction you were craving.

Reiner lowers his face to your chest, warm tongue laving over one nipple in a soothing manner as it pebbles against the muscle. He moves to the other and does the same, suckles on it softly so that you dig your nails into his back.

You leak with every shallow thrust, various fluids getting pushed from your wet pussy, and the closer you get to your orgasm, the worse it gets. You squirt first, a juice thinner than your slick arousal dribbling from you and coating Reiner’s thighs.

“Fucking—” He cuts himself off by kissing you, obviously uncaring of the fact that you had someone else’s cock in your mouth maybe half an hour ago. He licks into you, holding your body tight against his as your muscles tense, thighs rigid around his waist. You climb and climb, gut hotter and hotter until you reach your peak and moan into his mouth.

Your hips start moving on their own accord, a little faster as you squeeze the thick cock inside of you until your body grows tired enough to stop. Reiner keeps the same, slow pace, rumbles, “Just keep squeezing me, and I’ll come soon.”

So, you do, clenching around him and trembling the more overstimulated you become because you’re so sensitive and so swollen and so full. Every part of you aches. Every shift of his cock makes you whimper, but when Reiner finally spills inside of you, holding you down on his spurting cock, you sigh and slump against him.

You breathe heavily, and so does Reiner, his chest, now damp with sweat, rising and falling against yours. His shirt chafes against your nipples, making you hiss, but you’re too exhausted to move.

“Is that what sex is always like with you two?” Galliard scoffs. “That was some soft shit. I’m a little disgusted.”

If you were a little more lucid, you’d consider calling him out and announcing to the room how wanton he gets alone in the bedroom, but your brain is functioning at minimal capacity right now.

“Oh, leave them alone, Pock,” Pieck chides, and you glance across the table at her with tired eyes to find another one of those smiles on her face. “Everyone deserves some softness, especially this little angel after the way you guys treated her.”

“Didn’t treat her any differently than I normally do,” Zeke says, voice slightly muffled as he speaks around a new cigarette.

“In that case, I offer my condolences,” Pieck tells you, pulling a little snort from you.

“S’fine,” you slur. “I’m just happy to service the Warriors.”

Galliard rolls his eyes. Pieck hums thoughtfully. Zeke smirks. Reiner lets his head fall to your shoulder.

And, Colt croaks out a honestly endearing, “Well, I, uh, appreciate the service,” which makes you and all of his superiors laugh.

It’s not an easy job, this one you've been given. You try to be grateful for the opportunity, but most days end with you struggling to find your own self worth.

Tonight is different, though. It’s rare that you feel genuinely appreciated, but right now, sitting in Reiner’s lap with Colt looking at you in both embarrassment and gratefulness, you feel that maybe you're worth something.

#aot x reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfic

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ray-ray-writings · 3 years

Note

I HAD A SECOND IDEA.

And know I’m only sending multiple asks because you said you were fine with it earlier, if you’re getting clogged up lemme know straight away and I’ll calm it down.

Okay okay okay, right, so we all know Technoblade, anarchist pig boy, well lemme pitch you this idea.

He gets a hot tip one day about this cruel empire off of the SMP lands and he agrees to go and assassinate the king. He makes it there, waits for the person who messaged him, only for it to be the reader, aka he kings child. They want him to murder her father after they are forcefully married to a neighboring kingdom so that they can take the crown and better the empire. (or if you’d like so they can demolish the monarchy)

Techno agrees uneasily but as time passes and the two plan together (with a lot of escapades and a few moments of daring where they tug him into their room to hide him from the guards) he falls in love with them and decides that he can’t wait until after the wedding because he can’t bear to see them married to anyone else.

So he moves the plan forward, kills both the evil king and the cruel fiancé in the same day and whisks them off back to the SMP after demolishing the monarchy together.

They get introduced to the SMP as a stranger Techno met and fell in love with while on his travels and the reader is content to never bring up their heritage again. The only memory of it being in the way they give Tubbo pointers on leading a people or how Techno has to remind them that they are safe and they don’t need to stand so rigidly.

Just a passing idea lololol. Hope you like,

With ever love-🌻

My God 🌻 your brain is so big and it is absolutely stan 🌻 hours because this idea is so good???? Like??? Thank you so much for sending this to me and allowing the absolute honor of writing it!!!!! Also, this got a lot longer than I meant for it to be…. But I don’t care because it is such a poggers idea. (Because it did take so long this may be the only post for tonight... Not sure yet lol)

(P.S. In this, your mom has passed. I forgot to write it into the story but it’s what it is lol)

TW: Murder, and one mention of suicide

So I imagine that Techno is aware of the kingdom of Oryn, all of the DreamSMP members are. But none of them had ever really been there, they have only heard stories. And not all of them have been very nice stories. But Technoblade has no ties there and so even though he hates the government, he’s not very willing to just go in guns blazing…. Until…

A letter arrives at his house one day. The letter asks him to come to Oryn and assassinate the King and the soon to be Prince, the one that is marrying the King’s only child. Technoblade would have refused had it not been for the two stacks of gold blocks that came with it, promising more if he chose to accept. Being half Piglin, he needs only to ponder for a moment before making his decision. The letter tells him to meet his contact just on the outskirts of the kingdom at midnight and if he does not show up, the contact will have their answer. It almost calm’s Techno’s nerves that the letter does not force him to agree to the mission, it is simply someone asking for help but is allowing him to say no if he wants. But Techno tells Phil where he’s going and that he will be gone for a few days, packs a bag, and sets out for Oryn.

He gets there right on time. A figure much smaller than him stands on guard, dressed in a black cloak, waits for him. “Are you my contact?” Techno asks, deciding not to waste time. The figure quickly turns to him and their shoulders ease as the tension leaves them. “I am” the sweetest voice Techno has ever heard responds. It stuns him for a moment but he quickly snaps back out of it. “And who might you be?” The figure’s hand reaches out and carefully pulls their hood off of their head, revealing you. Techno knows who you are instantly, how could he not? “Y/N? You’re the one that is hiring me to kill the King and the Prince? Your father and fiance?” He asks a bit incredulously. You let out a tired sigh but give him a firm nod. “I am.” “Why?” And so you dive into an explanation of how cruel your father is and just how much more cruel your fiance is. As you’re telling your story, Techno allows his eyes to wonder and he takes in your body and immediately notices that your face is bruised but is being covered in makeup and that your wrist is also bruised and he can only imagine just how bruised the rest of your body is. And before you can even finish, Techno cuts you off, “I’ll do it” you notice his demeanor has completely changed, but you don’t question it. All you care about is that he has agreed to kill your father and your fiance. So with a happy smile you reach your hand out and he takes it and you two shake hands. “Come, I’ll show you to the castle. You’ll have to stay in my room while we work and plan.” Techno doesn’t question you, only gives you a small nod and the two of you go on your way.

Somehow you manage to sneak this beat of a man into the castle without catching anyone’s attention. “You’re going to have to stay in my room. Forgive me for being improper but I believe my father wouldn’t take kindly to finding his assassin in on of the guest rooms. You murmur as you guide him down a long hallway toward your room. A deep chuckle that fills your whole body with warmth rumbles from his chest. “That is quite alright your highness” “Please, just call me Y/N… My father makes everyone call me that but I hate it. So please, just Y/N.” “Okay then just Y/N.” The two of you are silent until you get to your room. You carefully push open the doors and Techno is blown away at the room. It is probably bigger than his house. But the thing that absolutely how much it just screams you. He’s only known you for maybe 20 minutes but he feels like by looking into your room he’s known you forever. A huge bed sits in the middle of the room draped in the comfiest looking blankets and pillows. Off to one side of the room, a small loveseat sandwiched between two comfy chairs sits in front of a large fireplace with multiple bookshelves with a multitude of books spilling from its holds. Many rows of chests and a few furnaces and smokers sit next to a door that he assumes leads into your very own personal bathroom. Also on that side is a table that is stacked with more books, paper, and pencils. “Please, make yourself at home. Bathroom is over there… Are you hungry? If you are, there is food in that chest over there, the one with the sign labeling it above it.” You offer. Techno gives you a warm smile of thanks before moving over to the chest and opening it finding some of the most rare foods he’s ever seen. So he grabs a little bit of everything, familiar stuff but also stuff he’s never tried before. You don’t mind, why would you? But he eats and then uses the bathroom, letting himself relax for a moment before walking back out to the room.

Techno finds the lights have been turned off, the only source of light being the fireplace and two candles sitting on either of the nightstands beside the bed. He scans the room, searching for you, expecting you to be on the bed… Instead he finds you on the loveseat with a pillow and a blanket lying down. “What are you doing?” Technoblade asks, rather confused. You sit up slightly and turn to look at him. “Oh! I’m sleeping on the couch. I thought you would be much more comfortable on the bed rather than stuck on this small couch.” His heart flutters for the first time around you, something he will spend a lot of time thinking about later on down the line, but he let’s out a scoff. “You’re right, but I am not going to make the future ruler of this land sleep on an uncomfortable couch while I lavish in their bed… Come, get up. Let me sleep on the couch” You make no move to get up and he lets out a huff before looking over to the bed. He lets out a sigh and he cannot believe what he’s about to offer, but he will be damned if he lets you sleep on the couch for him. “You’re bed is huge… We could just share, if you were comfortable with that.” And your heart begins to thump hard in your chest. Because yes, you definitely thought about the offer, but you just met this man and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable… Then again the two of you are going to be getting rather close over these next few days… This might as well happen right? So you carefully sit up all the way and give the man a nod, “Yeah. That’s alright with me… Is that alright with you?” You ask shyly. A soft smile forms on his face and he lets out a chuckle, “Doll I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t comfortable. Come,” He softly commands, holding out a hand, softly beckoning you forward. Standing up, you shuffle your way over to him and accept his outreached hand. You both do your best to ignore the fire that spreads through your palms, up your arms, and fills your whole body. Techno carefully ushers you over to the bed, letting you pick which side you wanted to sleep on before letting go of your hand, to both of your disappointments, and wandering over to the other side of the bed and carefully crawling in beside you as to not disturb you. He carefully leans over and blows out the candle on his nightstand, you doing the same before the two of you settle down in bed. You two lie there, the only sound coming from the crackling fire. I mean, it’s a little awkward, sleeping in the same bed of a stranger you hired to murder your father and fiancé? But there is a pretty big space between you two and that relaxes you enough to the point where you begin to drift to sleep. So you turn on your side to get more comfy. His gaze moves to you as you sleepily close your eyes and mutter out, “Goodnight Technoblade.” “Goodnight Y/N”

You know that big space between the two of you that you had before you went to sleep? Yeah, when you wake up in the morning, it’s nonexistent. You wake the next morning completely pressed into someone’s chest. For a moment, terror and panic rise in your veins but settles once you catch sight of a pink strand of hair and you realize what has happened and who is in your bed. Again, it’s a little awkward but you have known kind human touch in a long time so you simply close your eyes and snuggle yourself closer to the piglin hybrid and fall back asleep.

Techno wakes up as you’re falling asleep. He too at first is very confused and nervous because he’s confused as to where he is and who the hell he’s holding to his chest and who just snuggled into him. But again, the memories of the night before flood his mind and a soft blush falls on his cheeks. He carefully tries to pull himself out of your grip, but you let out the cutest whine and bury your face in his chest. It causes him to stop dead in his tracks. He then decides that if you hated what was happening, you would have pulled away when you woke up or would have let him pull away from you. So he relaxes just a bit more and tightens his arms around you, pulling you even closer before falling back asleep himself.

The two of you wake up together to a loud bang on your door, the door opening and closing, and then an Irish accent yelling. “Y/N! You lazy bum get up! You were supposed to meet me---- Who the fuck?” You and Techno quickly sit up and there at the end of your bed is your best friend, who also just so happens to be your lady in waiting. “Minx! We’ve talked about this… Knock god damn it” You grumble laying back down in the bed, surprising Techno by pulling him down with you and curling into him again. “I would if you actually answered the door… Who the fuck is this in your bed?” She says again, much quieter this time, but still loudly. Letting out a sigh, you decide that you’re not getting any more sleep. “Technoblade, this is Minx, my annoying best friend, Minx this is Technoblade… I’ve hired him to kill my father and fiancé” you tell your bestie. Her eyes get huge and her mouth gapes at you like a fish. “I know we talked about it, I didn’t know you were serious” “It was either this or killing myself and I think I deserve to live compared to those two cruel bastards.” Minx quickly composes herself and gives you a nod. “Damn right… Well then… I guess we can cancel our plans for the day so you two can begin plotting… I’ll make sure no one comes in.” “Thanks Minx. You’re a really good friend. I love you” “Yeah, yeah… I love you too bitch” And then she leaves.

Techno has been silent this whole time, just observing. He doesn’t know how the hell Minx was so chill with him here and the fact he was here to kill her king… But once she leaves his attention is back on you. You let out a sigh, stretch, and turn to him with a big smile. “Come on… We should probably get started.” You crawl out of bed and Techno follows you, still a little bewildered. The two of you move in sync around the room as you get ready for the day. You two eat, use the bathroom (separately lol), and just get ready before the two of you meet back at the table. You get right into it. You two begin drawing out a plan.

The plan: Your wedding was at the end of the week. So you would unfortunately get married to your fiancé but once you two would go off into your separate room after the wedding, Techno would be in there already and would slice his throat. You would make sure your father was nearby before screaming for him and when he ran into the room, Techno would kill him as well before running to the window and escaping. You would then call for the guards, once he was far enough away. But you would be secured in the position as the sole monarch of your land with no more cruel leaders coming your way. It was set… All there was to do now was wait.

The two of you spend the rest of the week together. You barely ever leave the room and Techno leaves even more rarely. One time you were trying to take him on a walk and so the two of you were standing at the door. He opens the door just as you heard footsteps begin to walk down the hall, causing you to reach out and yank him back into the room, his body turning and his chest crashing into yours. You two stare into each other’s eyes before you realize the position your in and clear your throat before taking a step back to clear your head. But you two spend almost every minute of every day together, other than the times you have to leave to do royal things. But because of this you two get very close. He tells you about his life and you tell him about yours. He tells you about his family and about Phil, he offers to let you meet him one day. You’d like that, you really would. You two spend a lot of time reading together, sharing funny or sad parts in your book. Exchanging and recommending ones you think the other would enjoy. You two grow close but also hold each other at arms length, knowing that once the week was over, Techno would be leaving and you two would rarely see each other again.

The night before the wedding changes everything though.

This day would be the longest day you two would be away from each other because you’re gone for a lot of the day, finishing the prep for the wedding. So the whole day Techno has been sitting on the couch reading. That’s where he would be when you walked in. Exhausted you would flop down beside him and adjust yourself so that your head was laying in his lap. He would look down at you a little amused, but would move one hand down and would begin running his hand through your hair. You relax into his lap and sigh in contentment. After a few minutes, you get tired of the silence. “Read to me?” You ponder softly. Again, Techno’s eyes leave the page and scan your gentle face. “Of course doll.” His eyes would shift back to the pages he was reading and he would begin to read aloud. His voice soothing as he reads and his hand still petting your head. Your eyes flutter closed as you begin to drift off to sleep. There is a slight pause of silence as Techno turns a page and you’re so sleepy but so warm that you can’t help the words that slip from your lips, “I love you.” And then you’re asleep. Techno freezes though. Did he just hear you right? You said you loved him? Him? The Blood God? Someone you literally hired to come here and kill someone? You love him? His thoughts race as he stares at your beautiful and relaxed face before it all settles on one thought. He loves you too. He loves you so much. There is no way that he would be able to sit through tomorrow. Knowing you, the one he loves, was out there getting married to someone so cruel and horrible, even though he would die shortly after… He wants to be the only one you marry. So with that thought, he changes the plan. He’s not sure how much you’ll like it… But he does it. He carefully sets the book down and moves your head out of his lap, stands up, turns around, picks you up and carefully puts you down on your bed. Techno tucks you in gently before grabbing his sword and quietly leaving the room.

It’s late at night, no one is in the hallways which is perfect. He makes his way to your father’s room first, remembering exactly where it was from one of your rare walks. Techno quietly slips into the room and over to the king’s bed. He glares at the face of the king before bringing his sword up and sliding the sword across the king’s throat in one swift motion. The king’s eyes shoot open in a panic and meets Techno’s stare. The king opens his mouth to call out to someone, anyone, but he can’t make a single noise. The blood drips from his throat and soon the king’s eyes roll back in his head, and he’s dead. Techno darkly chuckles to himself before leaving the room once more and slips to your fiancé’s room. Again, stalking to the side of his bed and slicing his throat. Once more, the man’s eyes shoot open, the same panic lacing his eyes. “It’s a shame you’ll never get to marry Y/N. They would have been the best thing in your life. Too bad you’re an evil asshole… Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to take care of them and give them all the love in the world” Techno hums darkly before driving his sword into the man’s chest. Again, no sound leaves his mouth as the life leaves his body. Pleased with himself, Techno pulls the sword out of the dead man and makes his way back to your room.

The door opening and closing wakes you, causing you to panic. It can’t be morning already. You shoot up from your spot on the bed, a little confused as to how you got there and why Techno is not next to you, but your eyes shoot to the door and you find Techno stand there with a bloody sword and you immediately know what has happened. “Oh Techno” you breathe out, shooting off the bed and launching yourself across the room and into his arms, the sword falling from his hand onto the floor, sweeping you up into his arms. “What happened to the plan?” You question him, not upset. After all he did what he was hired to do, he killed the people you so desperately wanted dead. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t watch the person I love get married to someone else, even if they would only be married for 10 minutes… I want to be the only person you marry Y/N.” He admits melting your heart melting at the confession. “You’re the only person I want to marry too Techno” you admit back, pulling your face away from him. His eyes meet yours before he leans forward and crashes his lips into your in a passionate but sloppy kiss. You don’t mind though, you kiss him back with just as much passion. Too soon Techno breaks away from the kiss, “Come with me” he breathes out, “What?” You respond a little confused, “Come with me. Back to the DreamSMP. You don’t have to be the ruler. You can leave a note, tell them that there is no more monarchy, that they are free now. Come with me. Please. I can’t be with out you.” And who are you to deny him such a request. You nod enthusiastically, “Yes. Yes. I’ll go with you Techno. I can’t be without you either. I love you” “I love you too” the two of you share another passionate kiss. You’re the one to break away. “Okay, okay. I have to write the note. Gather all you can from my chests please.” You two split and quickly do you separate tasks. After you’re done, Techno is still packing so you figure you have enough time. “I’ll be right back my love,” you murmur walking over to him, kissing his cheek, and walking over to the door. Techno, although a little bit of nervous energy is flowing through his veins, he trusts you so he lets you go.

You quickly sprint down the hallway and slip into your best friend’s room. You quickly walk over to her side and shake her shoulder till she wakes up. “Wot the fuck?” Minx mutters, her eyes peering open to stare at you, “Wot the fuck do you want?” She questions. “Minx. I’m leaving. Now. With Techno. The king… The king is dead, there are roses by the stairs (okay so you didn’t actually say the roses part… moving on). My fiance, well ex-fiance, is dead. Techno and I are leaving for his homeland… I just wanted to tell you goodbye.” Minx stares at you before lurching forward and wrapping you in a huge hug. “Let me know when you’re safe okay? I love you” “I will. I love you too… If you want, when we get there I can send you the coordinates. You could come too.” Minx pulls away from the hug and nods. “Yeah I’d like that… Now get out of here. Before you get caught.” You would lean down and press a kiss to Minx’s forehead, “i love you” “i love you”

Techno was done packing when you opened the door. “You ready?” You ask him quietly. “Yes… Are you?” “I’ve never been ready for anything in my entire life.” You two share one more kiss before carefully exiting the castle and disappearing in the night.

The king and the bitch… i mean ex fiance… are discovered dead the next morning. A guard rushes into your room to check on you only to find the note neatly placed on your pillow. It is announced within the next hour that the citizens were now free, that there was no longer a monarch due to the proclamation of the last ruler. Because technically once the king died, you became ruler and then all your proclamations would then have to be followed. People would be confused at first, but then they would celebrate. No longer under the control of a cruel and vicious king as well as you, the sweet child of that monster, was free and happy and were allowing them to be free and happy too? Sounds amazing to them. That day they dance and drink and toast to your honor.

You and Techno make it back to his house safely and with no issues. The first thing you do is let Minx know you’re safe and sound. The second thing you do is kiss Techno. And the third thing you do is meet Philza. He is very surprised to see Techno coming home with someone, especially since he knew about the mission and knew who you were. But Techno and you explain everything and he immediately gives you the biggest, warmest hug you’ve had in a really really long time…. He hugs you like a father would. “I’m so proud of you for doing what’s right… And welcome to the family” you lose it. You cry into his shoulder and he just holds you and let’s you. You feel so safe and so welcomed and it’s been so long since you’ve had a good father, its been since your mom died which was many years ago. But Philza just lets you cry on him and comforts you as you do so… Once the tears are done, you go back to Techno and the two of you curl up in his bed and sleep for a while, exhausted from the days events.

You slowly meet the rest of the SMP. Techno didn’t want to stress you or the others out so he introduced you to them little by little. You got along with everyone great, your training as a royal making it easy to get along with so many different people of so many different personalities. One thing you appreciated about Techno was that he never outed your royal status. You wanted to keep your past in the past and he accepted that right away, no questions asked. That being said, you definitely do spend a lot of time around Tubbo. Being around and being forced to lead for a long time like you were, it’s not so easy to quit cold turkey. So you help Tubbo govern L’Manberg, no matter how much Techno hates it. But he hears some of the advice you give and decide that maybe your government isn’t so bad. Nobody, except maybe Dream, puts two and two together. That Oryn lost its rulers and suddenly you’re here with Techno and you’re someone who’s really good at ruling…. It doesn’t matter though, that’s how you want it to stay.

Techno and you get married rather quickly, nobody questions it though. They’re just happy that the Blood God found someone and has actually kind of calmed down a little bit. It’s a really beautiful ceremony where you got a lot of say in what happened, something that your other wedding didn’t have lol. But the two of you live the rest of your lives together just completely and utterly in love with one another and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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everythingharrypotterblog · 3 years

Text

charmed [7]: ‘night changes’ (remus lupin x reader)

a/n: i got rejected from my top choice university program today so if im gonna be unhappy, might as well make u guys happy and release parts 5 and 7

brief summary: y/n and remus are both teachers at hogwarts and this is his first transformation where he is under wolfsbane. y/n remains in human form as he transforms. werewolf or not, all y/n ever feels is him.

series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.

series masterlist here

join taglist here

previously, in part 1:

“No, you don’t understand, it’s incredibly, extremely dangerous for a human to be around a were-“ Remus had tried to say, before Y/N had stood up and with a crack, disappeared. A single white dove hovered where she had stood, its wings flapping slowly to stay afloat.

“Y/N?”

With a crack, Y/N had appeared again.

“I didn’t know you were an Animagus.”

Y/N grinned.

“What, you thought James, Sirius and Peter were the only ones to ever succeed at it?”

Remus still grimaced, shaking his head and looking down.

“It’s still too dangerous, I won’t risk it. I couldn’t possibly think of hurting you, I’m too dangerous-“

“Remus, stop it. You didn’t hurt Peter as a rat back in the day, you wouldn’t hurt a flinging bird either. Plus, I got a serious height advantage on you anyway.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at him teasingly, transforming back again into the dove and flying up to the ceiling. Lupin wasn’t convinced.

“Y/N, you shouldn’t-“

The dove reappeared as Y/N and kneeled between Lupin’s legs, taking his face into her hands carefully.

“Please? Let me be there for you. Let me try-“

“I-“ Remus winced in his crippling self-doubt.

“I promise, if I ever feel unsafe, I’ll fly away. I promise.”

Remus nodded. “I love you.”

Y/N was taken aback, but surged forward to press her lips against his.

“I love you too.”

It was the first time they had said that to each other.

The first full moon of the Hogwarts term was now but a day away. As it drew nearer, Remus got paler and grew more irritable, as it always was.

The students never noticed, as he remained their kind Professor Lupin to them. Remus valued the staff and Dumbledore in extremely high regard, so he mainly kept to himself to avoid conflict.

However, his short temper was not 100% appeasable.

He was presently in his office, leg anxiously bouncing. He couldn’t help but jitter as restless energy coursed through him. The door opened, and he jerked his head in its direction, to see Y/N walk in, slightly anxious as well.

“Hi, love.” She said, making her way to him.

“He’s late.” Remus muttered.

“It’s Albus Dumbledore, what do you expect- maybe he had a Wizarding War in Luxembourg to stop before this or something.” Y/N joked, dragging a chair beside her and taking Remus’ hand.

His leg stopped bouncing.

1980.

Remus sat in an armchair in the House of Black’s library, attempting to distract himself before the night would come, a transformation night.

Loud voices reverberated across the walls, and he usually wouldn’t have minded, but the full moon made him more irritable.

“Will you guys stop yelling!” He called out across the hallway to the room where James, Sirius and a couple other Order members were talking over each other.

Sirius shared a look with James and they shrugged, making a motion with their hand asking the others to lower their voices.

“Hi, guys!” In came Y/N’s voice, as she walked through the door after a day of work, setting down her jacket. She joined the table for a few snacks, before inquiring, “Where’s Remus?”

“Ah, in the library.” James said mindlessly, shuffling the pack of cards they were playing with. He spotted Y/N head for that direction, and attempted to add, “But I wouldn’t disturb him if I were-“

But Y/N already walked in the library, wanting to see her boyfriend. She found him buried in a book, sitting slightly uncomfortably in his clothes, as if his body was having pre-transformation aches.

“Hi, love.” She said gently.

Remus peered up from his book and instantly smiled, uncrossing his legs and patting at his lap. Y/N took a seat on him, and he wrapped his arms around her comfortably.

“How was work?” He grumbled, mouth kissing up her arm and shoulder.

“Oh, just the usual.”

He listened to her talk about her day, hugging her as she sat in his lap.

James heard faint sounds of their light voices from the other room, and laughed. Sirius shook his head, both of them amused by their friend’s drastic change in demeanor.

“Little fucker.”

Dumbledore appeared in Remus’ office not long after Y/N joined, with a goblet of familiar-looking blue smoke.

“Remus, Y/N. I took the liberty of bringing you your last dose myself, Severus has already done so much. So, you wanted to talk about the logistics of your upcoming transformation.”

Remus nodded, leaning forward and taking the potion.

“This is your first time with Wolfsbane, so we cannot be sure on how it will affect you. However, I trust that it has been brewed properly, so it should do its function, which is to maintain your mental state when you transform.”

“So technically, he could just stay and hide here in his office and wait for the night to be over?” Y/N asked Dumbledore, thumb rubbing over Remus’ hand.

“Yes. If the potion has been brewed correctly, which I am sure it has, Remus should transform into nothing but a harmless wolf. Of course, because this is your first time, if you still wish to go outside and-“

“Yes.” Remus interjected, once he finished the last of the potion. “I wish to still use the Whomping Willow, just to avoid all potential risk.”

“Very well.” Dumbledore smiled, bowing his head. “I have complete trust in you, so you do as you please.”

“And I should… I won’t forget who I am, I won’t lose my mind?” Remus asked.

“No.” Dumbledore confirmed. “Your mental state will stay intact.”

“Then, I can technically be in human form with him.” Y/N gasped as the idea jumped into her head. She was immediately met with startled looks from both Dumbledore and Remus, Dumbledore merely intrigued and Remus looking downright terrified. “I mean, I could be with him. Me, a human.” She added hastily.

Glancing at Remus’ fervently opposed look, Dumbledore merely stood up.

“I will leave that between you two to discuss. Goodnight, and good luck.” He said. “Oh! And one more thing.”

His eyes twinkled. “I hear talk amongst the students since the start of term. About you two.”

Remus and Y/N looked at each other nervously.

“Something about spotting their Charms and Defence teachers always being present in each other’s offices…”

Y/N mouth dropped in shock, trying to figure out how students could even know where they spent their nights, before Dumbledore laughed heartily, shaking his head.

“I kid, I kid, I have heard nothing of the sort. All that has reached my ears are the raving comments about your classes and subjects. Keep up the good work, Professors.” Dumbledore chuckled, and vanished into the fireplace.

Y/N stared dumbfounded at the spot he disappeared, before letting out a laugh.

“I-“ She blinked. “He is so weird, and can you believe, I almost let slip that I’m an Animagus-“

She stopped once she looked at her husband, whose expression was grave.

“Wha-“

“You cannot stay in human form with me.” He shook his head.

Y/N stayed silent for a second. “Why not? If this potion works, and we know it will, your-“

“We can’t be too sure!” Remus sighed. “Werewolves, we hunt for humans. We look for victims to bite, to… to-“

“If the potion doesn’t work, then I’ll just transform into a dove, like always.”

Remus met her eyes in a worried gaze.

“I’ve been a bird countless of times on your transformations, you’re still gonna let me do that, are you?” Y/N raised her eyebrows. “You even said, werewolves look for humans, animal companions are harmless-“

“Which is exactly why you can’t be in human form, darling! The extreme danger that would put you in, you have no idea.”

“I have no idea?” Y/N pursed her lips, instinctively reaching out to her bicep, on which lay a tiny white scar.

Remus glanced at it too, with almost hatred and remorse in his eyes, as he sighed, hand tracing over it and kissing it.

“Maybe you should transform right now, my love.” Remus said anxiously as he, Y/N, James, Sirius and Peter walked through an abandoned part of the woods.

The sky was dark, and the clouds radiated a faint shimmer indicating the full moon would appear soon.

“I won’t transform until I absolutely need to.” Y/N said firmly, hand holding onto Remus’ tightly.

“She’ll follow our lead, Moony, don’t worry.” Sirius said.

Unintentionally, they stopped at a small hill, deeming the timing to be right.

“Y/N, it’s not too late, you could just Disapparate away, I-“ Remus said to Y/N.

“Remus. Stop. I’m not scared.” Y/N smiled at him, cupping his cheek. “You’re still you. And I love you, all parts of you. Nothing will change that, or you and me.”

Remus nodded, breathing quickly and pulled her in for a kiss, before the other Marauders beckoned Y/N to back away slightly as the moon started to peak.

The night changed in an instant.

The opal orb shone in the sky and in the moonlight, Y/N watched as Remus’ tall silhouette trembled, his body morphing into a werewolf.

Y/N was in awe. His body lengthened. His shoulders were hunching. Hair sprouted visibly from his head and neck and his hands curled into clawed paws. Straightening up, he howled to the sky, the sound echoing into the rest of the night.

Y/N’s mind went blank. The Marauders had transformed as she kept her eye on Remus. For a second, the werewolf’s eyes met hers, but before she could do anything, he lunged for her.

Adrenaline shot through her body as the werewolf made a swipe towards her, a big black dog jumping in between them just in time for Remus’ sharp claw to slightly graze her shoulder before she transformed with a crack, into a dove and flew up, batting her wings.

“I’ll never be able to forgive myself for that.” Remus whispered painfully, finger tracing over the small permanent scratch near Y/N’s shoulder.

“But I’m fine.” Y/N pursed her lips, eyes looking into Remus’ face imploringly. “Because I knew that it wasn’t you. And after the night ended, you cared for me so tenderly and lovingly. Gently. Because that is the real you.”

Remus soaked a warm towel for the millionth time as he sat Y/N on the toilet next to the sink to tend the small scratch she had acquired from him.

“Rem, it’s okay, do you realize that I’ve broken literal bones before! This is nothing.” Y/N said, letting him clean the patch of skin before taking both of his hands in hers. He kneeled in between her legs.

“I could never forgive myself for this, I’m so sorry-“

“Please. In the best way possible, shut up.” Y/N smiled, eyes welling up at the unnecessary look of remorse plaguing Remus’ face. “That wasn’t you. And nothing that I saw or felt last night changes who you are to me now.”

“You don’t…see me as a monster? You don’t even feel a tiny bit scared being with me right now?” Remus teared up.

Y/N smiled, eyes crinkling and letting tears fall down her cheeks. “I just feel you.”

Y/N woke up from her nap the night of the full moon to find Remus’ side of the bed empty. Eventually, she had gotten Remus to agree to let her accompany him as she always did, but in human form this time.

Getting up, she spotted Remus already at the door. She crossed her arms.

“Are you running away?” Y/N frowned, her husband jumping at getting caught.

“No, I-I figured I’d head out earlier.”

Y/N walked towards him, squeezing his shoulders.

“We talked about this. It’ll be okay.” Y/N reassured him. She saw the fear still in his eyes but he nodded, blinking some away and reaching to get Y/N’s coat for her.

They walked in the chilly night air, making their way to the Forest. Although this felt completely new, they had never done this at Hogwarts and they were expecting new results tonight, there was also a sense of déjà-vu present in the air.

Y/N had been helping Remus with every one of his transformations during their entire marriage and before, ever since she was 18. It’s been almost 13 years that they were in this together.

We're only gettin' older, baby

And I've been thinkin' about it lately

“Thank you for being here.” Remus said, squeezing her hand. “And I don’t just mean tonight.”

Y/N squeezed it back tightly, beaming at him. The moon was close to being fully out, and they stopped on a small hill overlooking Hagrid’s Hut where it would appear in full view.

Does it ever drive you crazy

Just how fast the night changes?

“Remember, if I make any sudden moves, you transform on the spot, okay?” Remus looked down at her, eyes full of conviction. Y/N nodded.

They both stood there, waiting, anticipation through the roof. They felt nauseous, from nervousness. The clouds began to fade, and more moonlight shined onto them. Slowly, they let go of each other’s hands and took a couple steps back from each other.

Everything that you've ever dreamed of

Disappearing when you wake up

The first beam of light hit Remus as the full moon emerged.

But there's nothing to be afraid of

Even when the night changes

His neck began elongating, thick hair growing from his head and covering his back. His shoulders hunched as he grew taller, breaking through the material of his clothes.

It will never change, baby

Y/N watched from a short distance as Remus morphed into a towering creature. Her incantation was ready in her head, just in case she had to transform into the dove.

It will never change, baby

Slowly, the full-fledge werewolf straightened up from its hunched over position. His eyes met Y/N’s and her body tensed, remembering. Instead of lunging at her, he sat down, his human-like eyes expressing gentleness. Y/N took a tiny step towards him.

“Remus?” She said, voice trembling.

The werewolf nodded.

Taking steps closer, she shakily got down onto her knees to join him on the ground. She lifted a hand, tentatively, and inch by inch, approached it to cup his cheek. At the contact, they both breathed out in relief.

“I just feel you.” Y/N smiled, tears flowing from her eyes.

It will never change me and you.

to be continued

a/n: as always i’d love to hear what u thought or what ud like to see of the series:)

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#remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #Professor Remus Lupin #professor lupin x reader #professor! reader #charmed

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whosscruffylooking · 3 years

Text

The Purest Things- Repeating History

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and alcohol. Canon typical violence.

A/N: this takes place during season 3 episode 11, birthright. i had a lot of fun studying this episode and making it my own. i have changed certain dialogue and who says what for the sake of the story. please enjoy!

The Purest Things Masterlist

(my gif! please credit if you use.)

january 2008

Syd Moore said, “Disregard for the past will never do us any good. Without it we cannot know truly who we are.”

+++++

Your alarm is often hushed before it even has an opportunity to set off nowadays because you usually wake up before it even has the chance.

4:25 A.M.

You groan and toss your pillow over your face. Maybe, just maybe, you can will yourself to sleep for a little longer. As if someone heard your pleas for slumber, your phone starts buzzing on your bedside table. Of course, it is unnecessary for you even to read the messages. There is a case.

+++++

"Last night in Fredericksburg, a 20-year-old woman, Molly McCarthy, was abducted," J.J. begins, "She's the third to go missing in the last 6 weeks. All disappeared from public places. No one's seen them since until now. A couple days ago, body parts with cigarette burns were recovered from a national park that was once the site of the battle of Chancellorsville."

"Were they able to make an I.D.?" you and Hotch ask simultaneously. Your eyes meet, but he breaks the contact abruptly. Flustered and insecure, you bury your focus deep into the file in front of you. The group discusses the case for a couple of minutes, but you are so concentrated on the papers that you hardly absorb any information they've shared.

There is something familiar about this case to you. Suddenly, realization strikes.

Rejoining the discussions, you say, "I remember reading about a case like this in Spotsylvania county. Similar markings on the bone. It was the winter of 1980, also in Fredericksburg. There were 5 women aged 16 to 24. They were buried in pieces."

"Same markings. Same civil war battlefield," J.J. responds in agreement.

The team agrees that this could be the works of the same killer. There are aspects of the more recent killings that would be impossible to copycat since those details had never been released to the public. But, if this is the same unsub, what's he been doing for the past 27 years?

+++++

Hotch focuses on the road while you watch out the window of the passenger seat. Occasionally, you sneak the odd peek at him. His stoicism is alluring, and you find yourself drawn to this demeanor like a moth to a flame. Piecing together the tiny glimpses you've collected thus far as if working on a mental puzzle, you scrutinize his attributes. His eyes bare the beginnings of crow's feet. Only his sideburns tease the speckling of salt and pepper undertones. His lips turn downwards at the corners, no doubt from years of scowling at unsubs.

Reid speaks up from behind you both and breaks your train of thought. Probably for the better, there's no reason why you should examine your unit chief so intently.

"It's funny--he always dumps the bodies in this battlefield, no matter what the risk."

"It's a respected landmark. He's flaunting," Aaron reckons.

"It makes him feel important," you say in agreement.

Once you have arrived at the crime scene, you follow Agent Hotchner closely. Reid trails ahead, most likely trying to keep up with his own train of thought.

"How does someone not see or hear them?" You ask the sheriff.

He turns to you with a defeated expression, "It was dark. He had the advantage. Molly's boyfriend was the last person to see her. He said she was alone for a minute, maybe less."

Hotch surveys the surroundings, "He's patient and works fast."

"He's perfected his M.O.," Reid states while looking around.

You cross your arms as a wave of unease gets the best of you as you envision the moments leading to Molly's attack.

"If our unsub's pushing 60, he's gotta be strong enough to carry her a long way without her struggling," you bring out.

Hotch looks to you with a concerned squint. You shake your head, signaling to him that it's nothing you can't get under control. He nods in response. The sheriff agrees to point out the various entrances to the park.

"I'll catch up with you," your Unit Chief states. He motions for you to step aside with him, and you comply.

"You know, ever since my wife and I had our son, I dread receiving cases involving children," he discloses to you.

Tears well up in your eyes, "I can't even imagine, but sir, why are you telling me this?"

"This job will inevitably strike close to home on some cases more than others. It's okay for you to feel overwhelmed by it all every once and a while," he assures you.

"You never lose it, though."

He sighs heavily, "Maybe I should have."

Shortly before you joined the BAU, Hotch's wife Haley left with their son Jack. You never ask questions or stick your nose where it doesn't belong. It isn't your place, and you can't blame him for not wanting to bring his family struggles to work. He deals with enough broken families on the job as it is. Mixing his own personal life into the field would only make it more challenging to prioritize. Despite all this, you cannot help but wonder what exactly led to his and his wife's separation. You hope that they can find their way back to each other. The crimes you investigate do not need to claim the Hotchner's as victims as well.

+++++

"I'll let you talk to Chrissy Wilkenson," Hotch directs you towards the kitchen. You wipe your sweaty palms against the fabric of your pants and make your way into the kitchen, Hotch following closely behind you.

"Mrs. Wilkenson," you say gently, "My name is Y/F/N. I have just a few questions about your husband. Where does Charlie usually go when he's stressed?"

"The barn," she stutters. You can tell she's anxious and afraid for the well-being of her family.

"Anywhere else, Chrissy?"

Hotch is called into the other room, and you continue questioning Chrissy. She's becoming overwhelmed, so you guide her to the dining room.

"I know this is difficult, Chrissy."

"Did the father of my child really do that to those poor women?" She cradles her baby bump.

Your heart breaks for her, and you choose to remain silent. Sometimes saying nothing speaks louder than words.

Footsteps bound throughout the house, and Hotch appears in the doorway, "The sheriff will stay here with Mrs. Wilkenson. We need you with us."

Standing up from your chair, you place your hand atop Chrissy's, "History doesn't have to repeat itself." It is almost as if she could tell you were reading her thoughts. The endless whispers that cloud her mind making her feel like she's left with only one choice, but there's always another option. That is all you are trying to remind her of.

+++++

As you and your team trek through the forest, you see a clearing.

"Hotch, this way," you beckon him to pursue your course.

Suddenly, a gunshot rings out, and you stop in your tracks. You make eye contact with Hotch and mirror each other's actions, dashing towards the opening in the trees. Your heart pounds in rhythm with your footsteps colliding against the ground. It is clear to you from your exchange with Chrissy at the house that the origin of the gunshot will shock everyone but yourself. As you reach the clearing and rush down the hill, your speculation is validated.

Chrissy Wilkenson is standing over the body of her husband, the unsub. A traumatized young man haunted by his father's past and plagued by the idea that children are trapped in the endless cycles created by their parents.

I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Jesus. Now is not the time for that.

The newly widowed woman claims self-defense, yet the cops handcuff her anyways. Inside, you feel conflicted while watching her get into the back of the squad car.

Hotch appears by your side but remains silent. Again, sometimes silence speaks louder than words. You bit your lip, attempting to hide the fact that it is trembling.

"What did you say to her as you were leaving the dining room?"

"I told her that history does not have to repeat itself. I wanted her to know that even when it feels like you are backed into a corner, there is always another way out. Sometimes people don't know where to look for their out thought," you quiver.

He lightly touches your arm and gives you a reassuring tilt of the head, "Just know that you did everything you could. We will never do this job perfectly. Doing the right thing usually costs more than it pays. You did your part. I'm not a saint, and I am far from a hero, but I have integrity and honor, and I do this job to the best of my ability."

"If you can leave a case with a clear conscience," he continues, "you know you did the best you could. Any other thought process will eat away at you slowly but surely, and ultimately, it will result in the demise of your career and destruction of yourself."

+++++

After a seemingly neverending day, you all arrive back at Quantico.

"I could really go for a drink, guys. What do you say? Newbie's buying," you wave your wallet around frivolously.

"I could go for 5 drinks!" Prentiss exclaims.

"Count me in," Morgan winks at you. He never fails to make you blush.

Reid hesitates and you pout your bottom lip, "Please Reid! How could you not want a repeat of Dolly Parton night last month?"

Hotch comes down the stairs, "Dolly Parton night? Do I want to know?"

You and Derek snicker to each other as Spencer attempts to diffuse his own embarassment.

"9 to 5 is an iconic female anthem that certainly has a rather bewitching affect on a man when mixed with alcohol."

"You only drank Diet Coke that night," you roll your eyes at him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Hotch forcing his way through the small group formed around the desks.

Making your way over to him, you invite him to join, "Want a beer?" You second guess yourself, but it seems as though his rather stern expression softens ever so slightly when he pivots on his heels to look at you.

"I would like that," he answers softly.

He immediately returns to his original path and hovers near the glass doors. You casually make your way over to him, joined by Dave and Emily. A man barges in through the glass doors announcing Aaron's name.

"Agent Hotchner?"

"Yes," the subject in question breaths out almost defeatedly.

The yellow package he holds in his hands is all too familiar and instantly churns your stomach into knots. You gnaw at your bottom lip, drawing a metallic taste that causes you to cringe.

"What is it?" Emily speaks up.

There's no question as to what it is. Oh Hotch. I’m so sorry.

Hotch's eyes trace the package from corner to corner in disbelief, "Haley's filing for divorce. I've been served."

When he eventually takes his eyes off of the lettering, his eyes meet yours. They lock onto you and it is in that moment that you feel as though you have been given the key to unlock his soul. His eyes are so unusual at this moment; they are more vulnerable than you have ever seen. The stoic man is gone, and instead, it is the eyes of one who is in tremendous pain. You had mistaken his bloodshot eyes for physical fatigue on the plane, but now you see that it is emotional exhaustion as well.

If only you knew how badly I want to hug you and tell you that you won't be swallowed up by this darkness. There's a long road ahead, but you have so many people here who love you and are here to support you through this. You aren't alone. Trust me, I know.

In some way, you pray that he can read into your soul and see the pain you feel for him. Once more, your shared silence proves to speak for itself.

At last, he breaks eye contact with you and finally releases the breath that you had been holding in. Dave grabs onto your arm, seeing the clear impact Hotch's news has on you, no doubt having also noticed Hotch's immediate response in looking at you.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can join you tonight," he excuses himself and escapes to the seclusion of his office.

Maybe history does have a way of repeating itself.

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Hallucination

Prompts: i love your fics insanity and real or not real!! can i request another fic where a side is struggling to tell what's real and what's a hallucination? can be in the same like universe (carrying on with one of the stories) or a completely different universe/person, idm - anon

*crashes into ur asks*

Hey if you’re still taking requests could you do just Janus comforting someone on the verge of a meltdown? Like lots of soft words and caring Janus? He’s my comfort character and I love him - anon

Thanks for the prompt!

Read on Ao3 Part 1 (ish)

Warnings: talk of hallucinations, uncertainty

Pairings: focus on creativitwins, intrulogical, dukeceit, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic, you decide

Word Count: 3864

Sometimes Thomas watches things and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

Sometimes Thomas decides to watch something late at night, when it’s dark outside, even though Virgil tells him it’s a bad idea, and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

Sometimes when Virgil has gone to his room and he’s fine, but Thomas’s mind can’t stop playing it over and over and over and over, he starts to expand on it and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

He can’t remember the name of the video. Something to do with being stuck on a misty island in the middle of nowhere with a monster and villagers that wait to sacrifice tourists to the monster to sate its hunger. Something about a daring rescue or an escape plan doomed to fail.

Something like…

“Do not go outside. Do not turn on the lights. Don’t make sounds.” The old man draws the curtains sharply across the window. “And whatever you do, do not look out the window.”

It’s late now. Patton’s asleep. Virgil’s in his room, probably asleep. The rest of them are still awake in the Imagination. It’s slumber party night for the twins, having created a big sprawling mansion in the Imagination for them to run around in. Logan is here, Janus is here, Roman is here.

Villagers?

They’re talking about what Thomas watched.

Logan straightens his legs out. “It’s not a bad practice, staying quiet.”

Janus rolls his eyes. “Come on, what is this, some haunted island?”

“You saw the people in the video.” Logan rests his weight on his elbows. “Something was amiss.”

“The only thing amiss was how awfully boring you lot are being.” Janus sighs and stands, stretching. “Well, I think a night of entertainment sounds wonderful.”

“The old man said to be quiet,” Roman points out. Wait, is the old man real?

“Do you know how prone to flights of fancy old people are?” Janus smiles. “Incredibly.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh don’t start that.” Janus rolls his eyes and his gaze lands on Remus. A smirk crawls across his face. “Well,” he drawls, sauntering across the room, “someone’s being awfully quiet.”

Remus just shrugs. Janus crouches down.

“What do you think about this monster,” he asks, tapping his fingers on his chin, “about the thing that sneaks around this island, peering into windows, through the keyholes of locked doors?”

“Janus,” Logan warns.

“What? I just want to hear what our other little scientist thinks about this.” He raises his eyebrows when Remus won’t hold his gaze. “No? Nothing? Need more data? Well, I’m sure you could ask around if you wanted to.”

“We’re not supposed to leave,” he says softly.

“I know you’re a goody-two-shoes, Remus, but you’ll never get anything done that way.”

“Leave him alone, Janus,” Roman says with a wink, “he’s just mad at how pathetic the monster design was.”

Long limbs. Dark eyes. Moved like shadow.

“And the Boy Scout, coming to the rescue.” Janus rolls his eyes as he stands. “Aren’t you tired of being so boring?”

Roman holds his hands up. “Hey, I’m all for exploring!”

Janus sighs. “Ever the dashing prince, are we?”

“Ask nicely and I may sweep you off your feet too.”

The banter continues. Logan just sighs and pulls out a journal, the pen emerging from god-knows-where as he writes. Remus swallows and glances toward the window.

In. Out. In. Out.

Roman and Janus are still tossing barbs and jests back and forth. Remus cannot help but notice how loud they are being.

The old man said to be quiet.

Logan looks up when he begins to crouch down and shuffle behind the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Changing.” He gives a half-hearted smile. “Texture spoons ran out.”

He nods and goes back to his writing. Remus glances at the nightstand. Only 8:00. The conversation gets progressively louder. Logan joins in eventually, rolling his eyes at Roman’s increasingly elaborate proposals to bring in jukeboxes, disco lights, and speakers.

“Let’s think about this logically. If the ghosts or whatever the hell the monster is sensitive to sound, why not pump everything to like, 300 decibels and blast their eardrums out?”

“Or it could be that they just hear things like we hear things,” Logan remarks.

“Mm.”

“Why do I have to be quiet?” Roman spreads his arms. “I should not have to deal with that!”

“Actually, you know what,” Janus says gleefully, “I agree. We shouldn’t have to be quiet. If this place doesn’t have adequate monster protection, that’s on them.”

This place…didn’t they make it safe? Roman said they made it safe. Is it not safe anymore? Are the shadows—is the monster here?

“Always the entitlement,” Logan sighs, seemingly resigning himself to the voice of reason as he settles his journal to the side, “assuming that everyone should cater to your needs.”

“Oh come on, Logan. You have to admit that having a hotel that isn’t secure makes little to no sense.”

Hotel? Isn’t this still the mansion?

The low buzz of an LED sign comes from outside. Remus blinks. Has…has that always been there?

“Not respecting the rules of wherever you choose to go makes little to no sense.”

“That’s gotta hold up in court though.” Roman glances at Janus. “You get me?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Janus says, drawing himself up like a lawyer, “I would like to sue on the grounds that my intestines were devoured horrifically by a terrifying, savage beast that the hotel owners neglected to inform me of. How am I standing here, you ask, if my intestines have been devoured? Simple. Spite.”

Roman’s off, cackling to his heart’s content. Logan bites back his own smile.

“And how, may I ask, is this not the fault of yourself?”

“May I say, Your Honor, that victim-blaming is not cute—“

“Here here,” comes Roman’s voice.

“—and also, the information about aforementioned monster came from someone who was not an employee of the hotel,” Janus finishes grandly, “therefore they can suck my—“

Logan hits his hand against the nightstand, still fighting down laughter. “Defendant is charged with contempt of court.”

“Do not pass go,” Roman chortles as Janus swoons dramatically, “do not collect 200 dollars.”

“Remus,” Janus cries out, “avenge me!”

Remus does not respond. He is too busy trying to figure out when the mansion became the hotel.

“Remus,” Janus cries again, crawling dramatically across the floor, “save me from this indignity.”

“No, thank you,” he mumbles instead.

Janus huffs, pushing himself off the floor. “Then by all means, please tell us your ingenious solution to this monster problem that we find ourselves in.”

Remus looks up, his face carefully blank except for a small smile. “I’m going to hide underneath the sheets,” he says in a soft, small voice, “because everybody knows monsters can’t get you when you’re under your sheets.”

“That is adorable,” Roman chuckles.

Janus’s eyebrows raise slowly until another fiendish smirk crawls across his face. “Are you scared?”

“Yes.”

“Aww,” he coos, “hiding under the sheets to get away from the monsters, how adorable.”

Remus doesn’t respond.

“If only the others could see you now,” Janus crows, “they’d know how intimidating you really are.”

Logan takes his glasses off, polishing them with the handkerchief from his pocket. “As if you’re any better, crying over a torn seam in your cape.”

“That bastard took two weeks to get right!”

Remus ignores them once more, glancing at the clock. 9:45. An acceptable time to try and go to sleep. He moves slowly and quietly as he tries to get into the bed. The monster could be here. The banter continues behind him as he pulls the sheets tight around him.

He does not see Logan glance over. He does not see that Logan frowns and glances at the clock, thinking perhaps Remus is more tired than he appeared, but…still. He does not see Logan look back at the others still talking, they’re probably not going to go to sleep for a long while.

He does not see Logan look over at him as Janus leaves the room, claiming he’s going to go find somewhere more fun to sleep. He does not see Logan frown, looking to see Remus still on his side, huddled under the sheets. He does not see when Logan starts to count.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

He does not see Logan beckon Roman closer.

He does not see Roman frown as he comes closer, sighing at the notebook in Logan’s hands.

“Logan, why the hell can’t you take a break for…” he trails off when he sees Logan’s face. “What?”

“Perhaps I like to keep myself occupied,” Logan says smoothly, even as he nods insistently to the notebook, “even in times where the circumstances might be less than ideal.”

Roman raises an eyebrow. Subtle, Logan.

“You are chronically incapable of taking a break, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Do you know any words other than ‘perhaps?’”

“Perhaps.”

Roman hides a smirk as squints at the text.

I think Remus is actually afraid. Don’t tease. - L

Remus does hear Roman exhale sharply. He does not see him glance up at the bed before he looks back at Logan and nods.

“Well,” he sighs, stretching and yawning exaggeratedly, “on that note, it’s probably a good idea to try and sleep.”

Logan snorts. “And here I thought you were supposed to be an actor.”

He swats at him halfheartedly as he starts getting ready to go to sleep. What that means is just a matter of snapping his fingers to change out of the prince costume. He packs his other clothes away and crosses the room, keeping his footsteps loud but not too loud.

Now that he’s paying attention, he can see how scared poor Remus is. He’s frozen under the sheets, barely moving. As Logan starts talking quietly to himself, he sets his bag down next to Remus’s and sighs, moving around to make a bit more noise.

Remus still doesn’t move.

When he’s made all the noise he can reasonably make, he walks a little closer to the bed and reaches to fix the curtains, unable to stop the soft noise when his shadow falls over the bed.

“Hey, Re,” he whispers, leaning down and brushing the sheet a little further from his face, “it’s just me, it’s just Roman. Can you open your eyes for me?”

It takes him a moment but his eyes do open. He smiles down at him and cups his face for a moment.

“Hey, there, Re,” he murmurs, “can I come join you?”

He barely nods.

“Thank you.” He frowns when he doesn’t move over. “You gonna let me in?”

He can tell by the way his eyes glass over that’s not a good idea unless he can convince him otherwise.

“Come on,” he whispers again, “scoot to the other side for me.” He nudges his shoulder gently. “Logan misses you.”

Loren doesn’t let his mumuring falter but he does reach across the small space between their beds to lightly pat the side closest to him.

Remus moves, as skittish as the new dragon pups, clutching the blanket tightly to his chest, his pillow gripped in his other hand. Roman swiftly takes the warm spot he’s vacated, wincing in sympathy as he shivers on the cold sheets.

“Thank you,” he sighs, making a show of getting comfortable before reaching out for him, smacking his lips together in sleep, “now come here.”

At his quickly stifled questioning noise, he drops the act and opens his arm wide.

“It’s okay, Re,” he whispers, far too quiet for Logan to hear, “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay.”

He stares at him a moment longer before he realizes that shit, he’s not going to be able to move on his own right now.

“Can I come get you, Re?” Roman smiles when he gives him another one of those jerky nods. “Thank you, I’m gonna pull you over to me, okay?”

He takes him into his arms slowly and carefully, wrapping him up in the sheets until just the very tops of their heads poke out. He relaxes just enough so that he can maneuver him to where he likes, but he’s far from the sleepy pile he expected.

“Hey,” he whispers, tucking his hair behind his ear, “you want to stay here with me, Re?”

He blinks sluggishly. Roman bites back a curse and leans down to rub his nose against his.

“Hey, hey, Re, you just focus on me, okay? Stay with me here—“ he tightens his grip— “right here…I’ve got you.”

He frowns when he makes a small little noise that sounds like it could be his name.

“Yeah, Re? You calling for me?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He kisses Remus’s forehead.

“Nonverbal,” he whispers, “or just scared? Or both?”

A moment passes.

“Both it is then.” Roman tucks his head under his chin. “Why don’t you go ahead and close your eyes, Re, I’m right here.”

They stay there, wrapped in the blankets, Remus warm and snug up against Roman’s chest. He plays with his hair, one of his legs slung over his to hold him close, working to lull him out of his frozen state. After a while, Logan stands from the other side of the room and pats Roman’s shoulder.

“Your turn, Roman.”

Roman rolls over. “Huh?”

Logan nods his head toward the bathroom. “Shower.”

Roman sighs dramatically and presses another kiss to Remus’s forehead, leaving his brother dazed, blinking up at Logan. Logan watches Roman leave before he turns his gaze downwards. Remus tries to pretend the shiver that goes through him at the way Logan softens his gaze is just the cold.

“Remus,” he calls softly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Remus, may I join you?”

A pause.

“Tap the bed twice if yes, once if no.”

A pause, then Remus hesitantly reaches out to make two little taps.

“Thank you.”

He slides smoothly into the bed, reaching out to carefully slip an arm under his and pull him off of the sweat-soaked sheets—when did that happen?—and into his arms. Remus moves pliantly, tucking his chin into the space left between his chin and the pillow.

“Hey,” he whispers, gentling his voice as he tucks his head closer to Remus’s, “hey.”

Logan is warm. Is Logan—Logan said it made sense to be quiet. Logan knows. Logan understands. Logan always understands.

“What’s the matter,” Logan calls gently, “can I help?”

Remus swallows. “Monster.”

“Are you afraid of the monster, Remus?”

Remus nods. “Black eyes. Shadow. Kill you and Roman and Janus and then go find Patton and Virgil and Thomas. Bad.”

“The monster isn’t real, Remus,” Logan says softly, running his hand through his hair, “it doesn’t exist.”

Remus shakes his head. “We’re in the hotel on the island. It’s real. Roman left and the monster will kill him.”

“Roman is just in the bathroom,” Logan corrects, moving his head to indicate the running water sound, “he’s alright. We’re not in a hotel, we’re in the mansion you two created.”

“But the LED sign is buzzing outside.”

“Would you like to look and see?”

“No!” Remus wraps his arms tightly around Logan’s waist. “We’re not supposed to look out the window, the old man said not to.”

“The old man isn’t here,” Logan says patiently, “I’m here. I have you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“He said—he—he’s not real?”

“No, Remus, he’s not real.” Logan gives him a gentle squeeze. “This is real. This is real, Remus, I’ve got you.”

“You’re real.”

“I am.”

“You said it’s safe to look out the window?”

“It is.” Logan squeezes again. “Would you like me to show you?”

Remus nods. Logan leans up and pulls back the curtain, peeking outside. There’s no bright red light from the hotel LED sign. Just soft moonlight.

“There’s no sign, Remus,” he murmurs, “you’re not in a hotel.”

Oh.

“The scar,” he blurts, his hand flying to his chest, “from the stab, what if it’s already got us?”

“I don’t have a scar,” Logan says, lying back down and taking Remus’s hand, “here…feel.”

Logan presses his palm to his bare chest, pulling his shirt out of the way so Remus can see. There’s no scar.

“You don’t have one either…may I?”

When he presses his palms against Remus’s chest, there’s no scar.

“We’re…not there?”

“No, Remus, we’re not there,” Logan says gently, “we’re here, in the mansion, safe, there’s no monster.”

The water stops. A moment later and Roman emerges, tossing a towel over his shoulder. He sees the two of them in the bed and pouts.

“You stole my spot!”

“I had Remus to comfort,” Logan says smoothly, waving him over, “though you are welcome to help.”

Roman ruffles Remus’s hair. Remus leans into it.

“Ro, are you real?”

“Yes, of course, I’m real, Re, what…” Roman trails off and his eyes go wide. “Oh, Re, did we—did I push you into hallucination territory? I’m so sorry, yes, we’re real, we’re here, we’re in our mansion, we’re safe, Re.”

“Safe?”

“Yeah, Re,” Roman murmurs, getting in to cuddle his brother properly, “we’re safe.”

“Real?”

“This is real.”

Remus buries his nose in his brother’s real neck and holds him close. Logan stays by his side, stroking his hair and murmuring that Remus is here, they’re real, they’re safe.

After a moment, Remus takes a deep breath and pulls apart.

“You know the rules, Ro-Bro.”

Roman grimaces, his head dropping to rest against Remus’s sternum for a moment before he nods. Logan looks back and forth between the two of them.

“What are the rules?”

“When Remus gets pushed into hallucination territory,” Roman says softly, “he sleeps alone.”

Logan frowns. “But surely it would help to have us reassure you and help ground you?”

“Wouldn’t help for the intrusive thoughts and hallucinations to include you too.”

Logan winces. “I suppose not, but—“

“Lolo we’ve tried,” Remus mumbles, “we—this works. It sucks and I hate it and so does Ro but this is what works.”

“I trust you,” Logan says, squeezing Remus’s hand, “and I trust you to know what works for you.”

“We’re just overprotective.”

“I’ll say.”

Roman gives him one last hug before standing and pulling Logan to his feet. “You know we’ll come as soon as you call.”

Remus nods. “I know.”

The room feels empty when they leave.

The night passes.

During the witching hour, he startles awake.

The sheets are soaked in sweat directly under him. His eyes are wide. His breathing is too controlled.

The monster is not here but the shadows are.

Somewhere in this house, he knows, something is here. He can hear the voice in the movement of the curtains, hear the step in the way the floorboard settles. Hands never meet his tender flesh, a mouth never bites his fragile throat, but something is here.

Step. Step. Step.

The fear clouds his eyes as it drips into his ears. The light flickers. Something brushes a knuckle up and over his cheek. Something pauses outside his doorway.

Through the depths of the fear filling his ears, something knocks.

The chill rips its fingers out of his mouth and smears them over his throat. Something knocks again. There’s something outside. There’s something outside.

“Sweetie,” he calls as he opens the door, “Sweetie?”

Janus steps inside.

“You’re awake,” he says, shutting the door and sitting on the edge of the bed, “it’s quite late.”

“I know,” Remus says as he sits up, wary, “sorry.”

Janus hums, reaching out to idly brush his hair off his forehead. The chill curls and lingers around his fingers, the shadows diving to hide in the lea of him, greedily drinking the fear from Remus. Janus goes to pull his hand away only to notice the prickles on Remus’s skin.

“Are you cold, my dear?” He frowns and lightly dusts his forearm with his fingertips. “You look it.”

Remus shakes his head. Janus raises an eyebrow, pressing his thumb hard against his arm to reveal a white imprint. It takes long seconds for the chill to let blood color the flesh again.

“Let’s not lie,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking back up to catch Remus’s, “shall we, sweetie?”

Janus reaches up to trace the air around the curve of his cheek, one finger lightly tracing his jaw. The electrifying tingle clenches his hands in the sheet. He tilts his head and hums softly.

“What’s keeping you awake, sweetie?”

The chill snarls, refusing to let go of his throat.

“You can speak,” he encourages, lightly knuckling the underside of his chin, “it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head a little.

“None of that, now, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He closes his hand around his. “To be afraid is nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie, you know that.”

The shadows move slowly, wary of him, eager to taste his fear. The chill huddles around it, icing it in place, refusing to let him breathe without reaching its fingers into the pit of his throat.

“Oh, my dear,” Janus murmurs, running his fingers along the side of Remus’s neck, “can I do anything for you?”

He shakes his head quickly. Too quickly.

“Sweetie…”

“You’ll be annoyed.”

“I’m concerned,” Janus corrects gently, “that’s all.”

Remus risks a glance at the shadows.

“And you know, Remus,” he continues, lifting his hand to press a chaste kiss to its back, “taking care of you is never annoying.”

A different type of fear tingles along his fingers as they brush the curve of his jaw. This one reaches deep, deep along his fingers, up his arm, down to the curve of his shoulder, wriggling in between the cold knots to pulse against him. The shadows bloom in the corners of the room, shying away from the light flickering over his face, his shirt, his hand.

Through the mouthful of fear, his tongue wets his lips. “You’ll find it stupid.”

“Never, sweetie.”

“The dark,” blurts shamefully from his mouth, “I’m afraid of the dark.”

“The dark, sweetie? Is this about…”

“I got pushed into hallucination territory earlier.”

Janus makes a noise of sympathy, murmuring an apology for teasing earlier.

“I can’t see anything but the shadows,” Remus whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, “and the noises, and how empty it is because I know it’s not empty.”

“And what helps this go away,” he asks, still cupping his hand, “what makes the shadows leave my sweetie alone?”

“S-stay? Please, with—with me?” Remus’s breath starts to catch again. “Don’t—don’t let them hurt me.”

“Oh, sweetie, of course,” Janus murmurs, “of course I’ll stay.”

The poor thing chokes out a sob. Janus reaches forward to lie him back down when his hand brushes the edge of the sheet. He frowns. Picking the sheet up between two fingers, he winces. He can feel his fingertips rubbing together, it’s barely warm enough.

Remus’s breath still hasn’t caught when he returns with a thick quilt, spreading it over him to banish the last of the chill.

“Hush now,” he soothes, smoothing the corners of the quilt, “hush, sweetie, it’s over, you did so well, shh…”

Janus climbs into bed, pulling the shaking Remus to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly, tightly around the poor thing as he cradles Remus protectively.

“Come here, my sweet,” he whispers, “come here, now, shh, shh, you’re alright now, sweetie, shh, shh…”

His cries soften, gentled into mewls against his chest as he warms him against his skin. The poor thing is still clenched tighter than a fist. He croons, taking his wrist in his hand and pulling him flush against him.

“It’s alright, sweetie, you did so well, it’s gone now, you did it, there you are, here you are, right here, sweetie.”

The poor thing whines.

“Oh, sweet one, shh, shh, shh, my dear, you’re alright…” He makes a noise of sympathy when he doesn’t stop. “What’s the matter, sweetie, tell me, say it, come now…”

He brings his hand up to stroke gently under Remus’s chin.

“Say it, sweetie, tell me what’s troubling you so, let me help, I’m right here, I’m right here.”

“The shadows,” he whimpers, “the shadows, I can—I can hear them, they—they’re everywhere—I—they’re looking at me, they’re touching me, I can—I can feel them—I—“

“I’ve got you, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, pressing a kiss to Remus’s cheek, “I’m right here, nothing can touch you, here—“

He pulls the blankets up and over their heads, creating a little bubble of intimacy in the dark room.

“I’m here, sweetie, it’s just me, I won’t hurt you, you know I won’t. Shh, shh, hush now, sweetie, it’s alright.”

They stay like that for a little longer, Remus sobbing out the rest of the fear as Janus hushes him softly, pulls him close, soothes away the last of the tremors with gentle hands and tender words.

After a while, Remus pulls away.

“…thanks, Jan.”

“I promised,” Janus murmurs, “I promised that I’d do it when you need me to.”

“I know.” Remus sniffles. “I just…wish you didn’t have to.”

“Don’t ever feel bad about needing something,” Janus chides softly, chucking him lightly under the chin, “especially not when you really need it.”

“Already sent Lolo and Ro away for hallucinations, you—“

“They’re fine, sweetie, a little worried, but they came and told me what was happening.” Janus kisses his forehead again. “They’re not angry, they don’t begrudge you needing things, and they’ll be here for you. They always are.”

“I know.”

Exhaustion begins to seep into his eyes. He blinks sluggishly.

“This is real, right?”

Janus gives him a squeeze. “It’s real.”

“Can I sleep now?”

“Oh, of course, sweetie,” he murmurs, leaning back up to rest his head on the pillow next to Remus, “you go right ahead. I’ll be right here. I’ll keep the shadows away.”

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merry-thieves · 3 years

Text

Alastair and the Merry Thieves being friendly toward each other...(in CoI)

I hope I found all the important scenes!

““I have tried to apologize. and to change,” Alastair said, and even through the door Cordelia could hear his voice shake. “How can I make amends for my past when no one will let me?” When James replied, there was real kindness in his voice. “You must give people time, Alastair,” he said. “We are none of us perfect, and no one expects perfection. But when you have hurt people, you must allow them their anger. Otherwise it will only become another thing you have tried to take away.” Alastair seemed to hesitate. “James,” he said. “Does he-””

“...and even told Alastair that his hair looked nice.”

“She’d had no idea James knew any Persian beyond a few words for food, “thank you,” and “goodbye.” Even Alastair was staring at him with a mixture of surprise and respect.”

““You told me before that Alastair kept your father’s condition from you during your childhood. That you never knew about it.” “That’s true.” “I suppose I never realized until tonight what a great effort that must have taken. It is not an easy thing to hide. And not an easy thing to confront someone about it, if you fear they have - such an illness.””

““Bloody hell,” said Alastair. “I hope James sent him packing with a flea in his ear.” “Good for James, which are words I never thought I would speak during my lifetime.” “James will understand that.””

So, James is the first of the Merry Thieves, what we know of, to be (sort of) genuinely friendly to Alastair

it’s not a friendship but James starts to respect Alastair for what he did for Cordelia all these years

in turn Alastair also respects James and actually calls him by his first name and not “Herondale” any longer

““That was the first decent thing Alastair ever did in his life. And to think I was here to see it.””

Matthew still can’t really stand Alastair but he’ll admit to Cordelia that Alastair is not always a terrible person

“Thomas cleared his throat. His hazel eyes were steady as he said, “I came to tell you that I’m sorry about you father. I really am.””

Thomas starting to think about Alastair’s feelings again ;)

“Matthew sat down with a thump. Thomas stared at Alastair with a dazed expression. Gideon looked pleased, if not a little bit baffled by every else’s stunned expressions. “Er - what?” said Christopher - speaking for them all, James felt.”

I don’t know, I just love how Alastair surprised everyone

also, Alastair protecting Thomas but I don’t think that he had platonic reasons

“Alastair kissed Cordelia’s forehead. As he did, he closed his eyes, and James felt the strange sense that he was getting a rare glimpse at the intensity of Alastair’s true feelings.”

James seeing the real Alastair :)

““I know you don’t care particularly what happens to Alastair, but I do.” She hadn’t meant she words to come out quite so pugnaciously. After a moment, James said, “Daisy, what Alastair did was quite brave. Not in the least because he did it for someone he knows dislikes him.” “it was rather selfless,” said Lucie. “Honestly, we do care what happens to Alastair.” “We do?” Christopher sighed. “I feel as if I can never quite keep up.”

So, we have James caring for Alastair’s fate

and we see that Christopher isn’t against liking Alastair but he will only do so if the others can forgive Alastair

which probably means that he has no personal grievances with Alastair (Christopher is simply perfect <3)

I tried not to include any romantic scenes between Thomas and Alastair but rather scenes with them actually speaking with each other

“Alastair looked amused. “Never before have I ever heard such a concise statement of the ludicrous philosophy with which you and your school friends go through the world, running toward danger,” he said.”

““My point,” Thomas went on, an edge to his voice, “is that I don’t think you believe the rude things you say. And I don’t understand why you say them. It doesn’t make any sense. it’s as if you want to drive everyone away.” He paused. “Why were you so awful to us in school? We never did anything to you.””

““Then you lot arrived, a bunch of boys from famous families, too well brought up to understand at first what went on far from home. Expecting the world would embrace you. That you would be treated well. As I never had been.” Alastair pushed back a lock of hair with a shaking hand. “ I suppose I hated you because you were happy.””

“But they had spoken more truthfully to each other in the last few minutes than they had in their entire lives.”

I think we can safely assume that Thomas likes Alastair and that Alastair likes Thomas after the Sanctuary

Alastair finally told one of the Merry Thieves why he did what he did and can tell Thomas that he sees his errors

Yet, I’m not sure if Thomas has actually forgiven Alastair or just tries to repress his memories of the Academy

“Alastair looked dismayed; Thomas, who was used to his uncle’s ways, shrugged. “You’ll get used to it,” he said to Alastair. “The more alarming the situation, the more frivolous my uncle’s demeanor becomes.””

Thomas talking to Alastair in a friendly way in “public”

““Do you want some seraph blades?” Thomas was about to protest that he’s already taken several when he realized Christopher wasn’t talking to him. he was talking to Alastair, who seemed to have remained at Thomas’s side.” “Alastair nodded his thanks and took the weapons. He headed to the front doors while Thomas was still fastening his jacket. Christopher followed -”

“Thomas exchanged a quick glance with the others. He had no intention of being kept back so he could stand at a window with a witch light. If the Institute was being attacked, he wanted to be out there, defending it. It was Alastair who moved first. He started down the steps, Christopher and Thomas on his heels. Thomas coughed as the air thickened around them, suffused with the rank, damp smell of salt, fish and rotting seaweed. As they reached the bottom of the steps, Thomas’s boots came down in freezing water. He could hear Christopher exclaiming about scientific impossibilities. “Well, it might be impossible,” said Alastair, rather reasonably,“ but it’s happening.””

“He sloshed farther into the courtyard, through the ankle-deep water, Christopher and Alastair nearby.”

“Christopher shouted hoarsely and ran toward his father as shilling-size drops of scarlet blood pattered down around him. Thomas scrambled to his feet and dashed after Christopher, hurling himself at the massive tentacle. He plunged his seraph blade into the rubbery treen-black flesh, over and over, dimly aware that beside him, Alastair Carstairs was doing the same.”

“Alastair clambered onto a pile of rubble, spear in hand, turning to help Thomas up after him.”

Probably one of the best parts in the book: Alastair, Thomas and Christopher fighting together

Christopher noticing that Thomas and Alastair are seemingly on good terms and immediately being friendly to him

“Thomas had taken Cordelia aside; James heard him say something about the battle, and the name Alastair, and he saw Cordelia brighten. So Alastair was alright; James realized he was relieved about it, and not just for Cordelia’s sake. Interesting.”

James starts to actually care about Alastair’s well-being, interesting indeed James

I’m starting to sense a new and fifth member of the Merry Thieves

““Alastair,” Matthew said.” “Stuff good terms,” said Matthew. “Alastair, Cordelia assures me that you have a heart. She says you’re different than you were at school. The boy I knew at school. The boy I knew at school wouldn’t visit my brother, just to spite me. Don’t make your sister a liar; she’s a better person than you are, and if she believes in you, you should try to be someone she can believe in. I know I do.””

Not exactly a friendly conversation but Matthew actually called him “Alastair”

Though, I’m not sure what to think of what he said after that; it’s a mix of acknowledgement that Alastair can be a good person and a threat

““Alastair!” he called, again, and Alastair turned, a look of surprise crossing his face. Alastair said something to his cousin, then beckoned to Thomas as Je mood some distance away, offering them a semblance of privacy. Alastair looked at Thomas inquiringly. Thomas, who had realized almost immediately that he had no idea what to say, shifted from one foot to another. “You’re all right?” he said eventually. “I didn’t get to ask you, after the fight.””

Thomas caring about Alastair’s well-being ;)

“We cannot pretend forever,” said Alastair. “eventually the truth must be faced. All of your friends hate me, Thomas, and with good reason.”

I wanted to end with this quote since it shows what Alastair thinks the Merry Thieves think about him

in reality: Thomas is in love with Alastair (but he definitely should face his own inner demons before starting a relationship with Alastair)

Christopher seems perfectly willing to forgive Alastair and begin a friendship with him when his friends also forgive Alastair

James cares about Alastair and respects him -> possible friendship on the horizon

So, everyone basically forgave him except Matthew

Matthew and Alastair did make progress but also not really

What did you think about this whole thing? Be free to tell me if I missed some important quote and if you would add anything to my comments!

Also, should I do something similar like this again? I was thing maybe a Gracetopher or Thomastair compilation?

@thegreatests @my-lady-of-roses @foxglove-airmid @blackasmysoul

#tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #tlh #the last hours #Chain of Iron #coi #choi #chain of iron spoilers #coi spoilers #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #james herondale #christopher lightwood #Matthew Fairchild #merry thieves

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thatesqcrush · 3 years

Text

The Nanny, Part 2

Bryan Kneef x Reader. Follow-up to part one here. Warnings: NSFW - smut, oral (male/female receiving), squirting, daddy kink), language. WC 5.3K.

It was early in the morning when you woke up. You stretched, arching your back and elongating your limbs, enjoying the way the expensive sheets felt against your naked body. You winced as you did so, realizing you were sore in the best way. You looked over and realized Bryan was not next to you. You knew he was up early most days as he had to deal with legal business overseas.

You quickly redressed and made way back to the joined apartment, where after your shower, you admired the bruises and marks that decorated your body. As your fingers traced over the love bite on your breast, your mind went back to the events of the night prior. A feeling of nervousness developed in the pit of your belly - you wondered how you would get through the day - would Bryan have regretted it? Would you still have a job? Looking at the time, you realized you didn’t have much time to ponder the what-ifs. Sandrine and Jasper would be up soon and you had to get them ready for the day.

The hustle and bustle of the morning did keep your mind otherwise preoccupied. “Turn around, let me see.” You told Sandrine as you finished doing her hair. Sandrine did so and looked up at you a toothy smile. You gave her a smile in return as you brushed her bangs from out of her eyes.

“Ms. Y/N, did you have a fun Valentine’s Day?” Sandrine asked.

“Ummm, something like that.” You murmured as you leaned to grab a hair bow to clip to her hair. You slid the purple bow and then gave her a once-over. “All set - let's go have some breakfast.”

“Did you kiss any boys?” Sandrine continued to inquire as she followed you into the kitchen. You opened your mouth to reply when you halted in your steps seeing Bryan ahead, pouring coffee.

“Morning sweetheart.” Bryan greeted, his gaze turning toward Sandrine. You tried to move discreetly past the six-year old when Bryan turned to you.

“Morning Y/N.” Bryan winked as he sipped his coffee. He was shirtless once more, and your mind flashed to how you gripped his strong, defined arms as he came inside of you not even 24 hours before.

“Hi Bryan.” You murmured, barely meeting his gaze as you walked over to where he was. Bryan watched you as he leaned against the sink, his arms crossed. You stood on your tip-toes to reach into the cabinet to get a coffee mug.

“Let me get that for you.” Bryan offered, stepping behind you as he placed his own mug down beside you. The feel of Bryan being pressed against you and the scent of his soap caused a shot of arousal to course through you. As a result, your pussy clenched involuntarily around nothing. Bryan’s breath was hot on your neck and you felt your skin prickle. Bryan reached around for his mug once more and leaned against the counter.

“Y/N, after you get back from drop-off, you and I need to talk.” Bryan announced quietly.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach and your cheeks burned. “Um… sure.” You replied, hoping Bryan would not hear the shake in your voice. “No work today?” You asked. “I thought you had to go into the office?”

“Took my calls earlier and two of my cases have continuances. I have the entire day ahead of me.”

Jasper happened to catch the tail-end of the conversation as he placed his empty cereal bowl into the sink.

“Dad, you have the day off? Can we have a movie day?” Jasper asked. Sandrine let out a squeal, hearing her brother.

“Please, daddy, please!” Sandrine begged. “With popcorn and everything!”

Bryan smiled as he leaned over to ruffle Jasper’s hair. “Of course we can - that’s if Y/N would care to join us?”

Your brows furrowed. ‘Maybe I am not getting canned after all.’ you thought to yourself.

“Please Ms. Y/N, please!” Both children pleaded in unison.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and smiled brightly. “Of course I can! Now, if you’re done, brush teeth and put on shoes - we have to leave in ten minutes.”

As the children ran off, you turned your attention back to Bryan, who was looking at you once more. His face was unreadable and you awkwardly gave him a small wave before following the children to help them finish getting ready.

You rapped on the door quietly, with your knuckles. “Bryan? You wanted to talk with me?” You called out.

You heard Bryan beckon you in and when you opened the door, you found him sitting at his desk. He looked up at you from his laptop and gave you a smile. “Please sit.” He extended his arm to the chair in front of his desk.

Your pulse quickened and your mouth suddenly went dry. You swallowed hard and wiped your now sweaty palms on the tops of your thighs. “So you wanted to talk?”

Bryan nodded. “About last night. It - you - I…” The normally loquacious litigator found himself at a loss for words. He cleared his throat and let out a deep exhalation. “Last night was a lot of fun, but--”

“Oh that’s never a good sign.” You interjected, nervously laughing. Bryan responded with holding a sole finger up and you instantly quieted.

“We cannot let last night happen again.” Bryan continued. “I would be remiss to say I didn’t find you attractive - and really, I should be trying to find someone to replace you as we crossed an inappropriate line. That said, you are really integral to Jasper and Sandrine’s happiness, so I will keep you on unless you want to tender your resignation - which of course, would be understandable.”

You felt your cheeks burn once more and your eyes well up. What were you expecting? A proclamation of love? That he would fall for the nanny? 'This isn’t a Harlequin romance novel.’ you chastised yourself.

You put on a brave smile. “I totally understand. I would be happy to stay on. There is no reason why we cannot go back to a strictly professional relationship.”

Bryan tapped his desk with the top of his hand. “Great. I am so relieved that we are on the same page.”

You nodded and you waited for him to continue. After a beat, Bryan gave you a pointed look and you took the hint to leave. You shut the door behind you as you left and allowed the tears to freely fall. Unbeknownst to you, Bryan had just dropped his head into his hands, defeated.

Time moved forward and the seasons changed. The freezing temperatures of winter in Chicago gave way to the blistering heat of summer. The twins birthday had arrived and turning seven was apparently a much bigger deal than when you turned seven. No expense was spared. Bryan’s home was bustling with children, caterers and party professionals.

The spectacular event (held inside a makeshift circus tent, of course) included a “trapeze” photo op, circus-themed treats like popcorn and candy, an outdoor swing, tons of colorful balloons, a “TICKETS” booth and more. Circus performers were preparing to liven up the party. Topping everything off was a truly lavish multi-tiered birthday cake with miniature versions of the children as acrobats in front of a circus tent.

Bryan had gone to pour himself a glass of water when he caught sight of you through the kitchen window. He swallowed hard as he watched you busy yourself with the children. You had dressed up for the occasion, cosplaying as Anne Wheeler. You wore a lilac sleeveless leotard with a matching short length lilac cape. White shorts were molded to your ass and thighs. Your hair was sprayed bubblegum pink.

Bryan swallowed his drink, desperately hoping the iced cold water would help cool him from the sudden warmth he was feeling. He decided to go outside and distract himself with some of the guests. The sun was beaming bright and hot, nary a cloud in the sky. The sounds of children giggling and shrieking filled the yard space. Bryan couldn’t help but keep you in his line of sight. You had taken off your cape and was now in just the leotard and shorts. As you danced with one of the kids, Bryan couldn’t help but watch your tits bounce. His mind was suddenly brought back to Valentine’s Day and how he got an up close shot of those tits bouncing as he fucked you.

A hand clasped Bryan on the shoulder and he turned, seeing it was the dad of one of Sandrine’s and Jasper’s friends. Another joined, a colleague, with beers in hand. “This is one hell of a party Kneef.” The blond in a teal polo replied - Bryan vaguely recalled his name was Bryce and was opposing counsel on an old case.

“Agreed.” The other man, Derek, replied. His gaze steered to you and he let out a low whistle as you bent over to talk to one of the kids.

“Damn Kneef, your nanny sure is something.” Derek continued. “Tell me, are you fucking her?”

“No!” Bryan denied, a bit more loudly than he intended. Derek looked at him with brows arched. Bryan shook his head. “I - I - I wouldn’t jeopardize her relationship with the twins. They really love her.” Bryan replied. “Good help is hard to come by.”

Bryce snorted before taking a swig of his beer. “If I wasn’t married, I’d be taking her home right now.”

“Hell I’m married, and I am considering taking her home.” Derek chuckled. “Lily’s away on business.”

Bryan stiffened, doing his best to swallow the urge to clock both men. He was filled with a surge of jealousy at the idea of you going off with one of them, who in his mind were just a bunch of douchebags. “Really?” he sneered, turning his attention to Derek. “You’d do that?”

“Oh fuck off Bryan. You’re one to talk. If you didn’t have the kids, this would be something you’d absolutely be doing - hell, you have done it!” Derek replied, rolling his eyes. “How many times have you been caught with your pants down and some bimbo paralegal over your desk?”

Bryan chose to not respond, as the answer was too many times to count. He was the office playboy for a number of years. The only reason he was even kept around as long as he was, was because he brought in a lot of business for the firm.

“Neither one of you are going home with my nanny.” Bryan gritted, taking another swig of his beer. “She’s…a person, not just a piece of ass.”

Both men didn’t reply, instead just looking away. Bryan let out an audible sigh before walking over to another group of friends and colleagues. “Come on, the game should be on and I have some Cubans that need to be smoked.”

At one point the adults and kids changed and it became a pool party. You sipped on a lemonade and watched as Bryan climbed out of the pool. His body was soaking and was more toned than from even the last time you saw him naked. ‘What is he doing? Pull-ups on the scaffolding?’ You wondered as he wrapped a large towel around Sandrine and Jasper.

Your pussy clenched, remembering how you clawed his back desperately as you came all over him repeatedly, with his cock, mouth, and hands. Arousal coursed through you and you let out an irritated sigh, knowing you’d need to rely on your battery operated boyfriend some more if you were going to survive this job.

Hours later, the festivities were over. You and Bryan each carried an exhausted twin and set them in their room, each likely down for the night. You followed Bryan out and shut the door behind you with a gentle click before making way to the kitchen. You found an empty tiered cupcake carrier and began to pack away some of the leftover cupcakes.

“You don’t need to clean up.” Bryan commented as he opened another beer. “I hired a clean up crew for that reason.”

“I don’t mind.” You shrugged, turning to him. Bryan’s gaze fell to your breasts again, and it was apparent you weren’t wearing any bra as he could see the outline of your hardened nipples.

“Idle hands are the devil's workshop.” you continued. Some frosting got on your fingers and you sucked your finger clean, while meeting Bryan’s eyes, which were blown with lust.

“I can find something to do with your hands.” Bryan retorted, stepping towards you and closing the gap. One arm wrapped around your waist while the other brushed some hair out of your face. You gazed at Bryan’s lips, pink, soft and plush and you licked your own lips in anticipation. His mouth began to drop to yours when the sound of a voice clearing caused the two of you to jump back in response.

It was mommy dearest herself, lips pursed in a thin line, arms crossed. “Am I interrupting?”

“Constance.” Bryan greeted coolly, turning away from you. “What are you doing here? Party finished two hours ago.”

“I was hoping that I could be with the kids on their birthdays and give them a present.” Constance replied, her eyes still locked on you. You dropped your head and choked out an ‘excuse me’ before dashing off to your apartment. Bryan watched as your form disappeared before turning back to his ex-wife.

“Connie - we have a custody arrangement in place for a reason. You cannot just show up unannounced.” Bryan gritted as he took the gift bags from her and placed them on the breakfast bar.

“I know, I know.” Constance stated. As she walked towards Bryan, the echoing sound of her heels against the marbled tile filled the room. She clasped her hands together, her bracelets jangling together. “I was just hoping we could make an exception for today, after all I am their mother.”

“You left us. You were never part of their lives. You may be Sandrine’s and Jasper’s mother on paper, but that’s all you are. You are lucky I was considerate enough to entertain the amount of visitation you have in place right now.” Bryan spat.

“Bryan, don’t be like that. I was young, I had a burgeoning model career that got derailed when two pink lines showed up on the test. I have more than made up for it.” Constance argued.

Bryan pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a deep breath in exasperation, wanting nothing more than for his ex-wife to leave. “Connie, the kids are asleep. Please just go - you have the kids next weekend. I’ll make sure they get your gifts.”

“Fine.” Constance looked at Bryan, her brow arched perfectly in judgment. “Before I go, just tell me since when did you start fucking the help?”

Bryan spat out his beer. “What you saw--”

“Please, I am not an idiot. Just wait til I let my lawyer know.” Connie threatened.

Bryan’s blood pressure shot through the roof. A fresh swell of rage rose inside. He clenched his fists, his guts churning in turmoil.

“Don’t you fucking threaten me. Get the fuck out.” Bryan growled. And when Constance didn’t move, he burst in anger. “Now! Go home Connie!”

***

You watched from your window as Constance climbed into her Mercedes and drove off. You climbed into your bed and stared at the ceiling as you contemplated everything from the last few months. ‘What were you doing? Sleeping with your boss - then the near kiss! You are such an idiot! How did you think that was going to end?’

‘But there is something more’ the voice in your head said. 'Isn’t there?’ that same voice continued. ‘Or were you both just so good at pretending it was real?’

There was a knock on your door and you shuffled your way to the door. The knocking continued followed by the sound of Bryan’s voice.

When you opened the door, the sight of Bryan standing there, kicked your libido up fifteen or so notches. His form was stiff, with set shoulders.

“Hey.” You greeted, stepping aside. “Come in.” There was already an awkward tension and the two of you hadn’t even spoken yet. You took a deep breath as you shut the door and followed him into the living room.

“Can I get you anything?” You asked nervously. “I can make some co--”

“Why’d you run out?” Bryan asked, interrupting you. His expression had hardened.

Looking away, you sighed before sitting down. Your shoulders sagged and you rubbed your face, smearing some of the glitter on your face. “It was awkward! We said we weren’t going to do anything… and then it felt like we were. And then of all people to show up, it was your ex-wife! What else was I supposed to do?”

“Not run out.” Bryan gritted. “We could have talked about this.”

“Well isn’t that what we’re doing now?” You asked, crossing your arms. You hadn’t changed and you were still in cosplay. Your breasts were pushed up under your arms and Bryan felt his cock twitch in his pants. Bryan looked around your apartment for something to distract him and his eyes settled on a picture of you and the twins at the park. He let out his own deep breath.

“You don’t need to worry about Constance. She’s just bitter - she is the type of person who shouldn’t have become a parent.” Bryan replied, taking a seat next to you. He cocked his head. “Admittedly, I was that type too.”

You turned to Bryan. “What do you mean?”

“I won’t sugarcoat it; I had more than my fair share of partners. I met Constance at a rough time in my life and she helped settle me down. We did the whole wedding thing and she got pregnant. After the kids were born, she just had a hard time giving up her old life - it was probably some kind of post-partum thing but I was too busy prioritizing my work otherwise to notice the signs. One day she was just gone. Left me a ‘dear John’ letter and that was that.” Bryan explained.

“But the kids see her. How did that happen?” You inquired.

“She showed up around when they were older. Showed interest. Wanted to make amends. For the sake of the kids, we negotiated visitation. I have primary custody and there’s a schedule. She wasn’t supposed to come today.”

Bryan continued, now pacing the length of the room. “I was cut off guard when I saw her. With her, I always feel like another shoe is about to drop.”

You walked in front of him, pausing him in mid-stride. “Oh Bryan.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked up at him. Bryan watched as you licked your lips and as he saw the pink of your tongue dart out, he had made his decision. He leaned down to kiss you and you met him the rest of the way. You sighed into the kiss, molding into the heat of his embrace. You felt him harden against your belly and you dropped your hand to rub him gently through his pants.

“I thought we wouldn’t do this again. The rules.” You panted in between kisses.

Bryan broke the kiss. “Fuck the rules. Let me make sure the cleaning crew is done and then we’ll pick up where we left off.” His voice was gravelly, the tone lustful.

“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed; a shiver went up your spine and your heart quickened in anticipation of what was to come. “I’ll freshen up and meet you there.”

You let out a moan as Bryan’s lips found purchase on your neck. His hands cupped your tits from behind, squeezing your flesh. You pushed your hair to the side to allow him greater access. A hand slipped down in front of the leotard you wearing. “No bra? Naughty girl.” He murmured as his thumb and forefinger tugged and rolled your nipple, until it was at attention. You turned around and cupped his face, tugging on his beard as you drew him in for another kiss. His tongue pressed at the seam of your lips, requesting access and you opened your mouth in response. His tongue slid into your mouth, exploring and rolling against yours. Bryan’s hands cupped your ass, squeezing them through your shorts.

Bryan broke the kiss. “You in those tiny shorts - all I wanted to do was haul you off and fuck you.”

“You should have.” You purred as you took his arms and led him to the bed. “And then you could have told the guys that you had filled me up and that my panties were dripping with your load.” You nipped his ear, causing Bryan to growl.

“You knew we were talking about you?” His green eyes were blown with lust and searched yours.

“Of course, I did. I have eyes you know.” You rolled your eyes. “I saw how you were all staring.”

“But now we can make up for lost time.” Bryan remarked, kissing you once more. You smiled against his kiss as you dropped his hands and walked a few steps ahead. You made a big show of removing your clothes. “See, no panties either.” You shimmied the leotard down your hips and thighs letting the material pool around your feet.

Bryan’s eyes darkened with lust as he watched you and made his own removal of his clothes. His cock sprang to attention as he pulled down his boxers and without a word exchanged, you dropped to your knees. You took the hair elastic that was around your wrist and you scooped your still-very pink hair into a ponytail.

Bryan’s cock was painfully hard and aching, with a bead of pre-cum weeping from the head. Bryan chuckled darkly and gripped his cock, pumping it a few times before dragging it back and forth along your lips. “You want this?” He asked, as he now tapped it on your face.

You looked up at Bryan and opened your mouth wide, extending your tongue over your bottom lip. Bryan let out another chuckle as he fed you his cock. “That’s it, take daddy’s cock.”

You relaxed your throat as Bryan continued to press his cock into your mouth. Once he had hit the back of your throat, he holds you in place, causing you to gag, and spit to start dripping from your mouth. He released himself and before you could get another deep inhalation of air, he slammed his cock into your mouth all the way again. He again held you in place and your eyes began to water as you gagged; more saliva dripped over your chin and onto the floor. Bryan withdrew again and this time you used your hand to pump him. You gathered some saliva and spit on his cock for lubrication. You gave him a few more pumps and then you took his length into your mouth once more.

Bryan threw his head back as you closed your mouth around him, using your tongue to go over every ridge and vein. The weight of his thick cock against your tongue caused your pussy to ache with need. Bryan focused his gaze back on you, watching as his length disappeared in and out of your mouth.

Bryan grunted and groaned, moaning your name in encouragement as you worshipped his cock. You flattened your tongue and ran it along his length before sucking on the sensitive crown, flicking your tongue against the tip. Bryan reached for your ponytail and wrapped your hair in his grip, guiding you along again. You let him set the pace and soon he was fucking your throat, the only sounds in the room being wet, slurping sounds and the obscene moans you were making from around his cock.

“Fucking love your mouth but I love coming in that pussy more.” Bryan grunted. You let out a whine and Bryan removed himself from your mouth. With your hair still gripped in his hand, he tilted your head up. “Is that what my girl wants?”

You nodded, desperately. “Yes daddy, come in my pussy! Please.”

Bryan helped you rise to your feet. He gripped your chin, and took in the sight of you. Chin messy with saliva, streaks of mascara down your cheeks. His cock twitched once more - you never looked more beautiful. “Bed - now. I want to feast on that pussy.”

You turned to climb onto the bed and Bryan gave you a smack on your ass, causing you to squeal. You flopped onto your back and spread your legs wide. Reaching down with your hand, you spread your folds apart, giving Bryan an ample look at your arousal.

“Have I told you that you have such a pretty pussy?” Bryan murmured against your skin. He used his fingers to spread your lips more, revealing your flesh. He stroked your pussy teasingly, gathering your arousal on his fingertips but never sinking them into where you wanted it most. As he continued to stroke your lips, he pressed kisses along your inner thighs. You reveled in the feel of his wiry beard along your skin. You recalled how Bryan liked a bare pussy and you were happy to endure repeated Brazilians in hopes of anything would come about in the future... and now it had.

His breath was hot on your aching cunt. You cried out as he wrecked your pussy with his tongue, burying his face inside of you, sucking and licking and devouring your slick folds.. To Bryan you were like a juicy peach, with your arousal dripping into his mouth. You were delicious and he couldn’t get enough of you. He licked you with big, broad strokes, before targeting your swollen, sensitive clit, taking it between his lips, trapping it so he could torment it with his tongue, scraping just slightly with his teeth. He reached up to grab at your tits, his large hand gripping one tightly. You cried out from the sensation of how his tongue massaged your clit furiously before dipping inside you, mimicking what was to come.

You ground against his mouth, riding against his face, as pleasure coursed through you. Bryan lifted his mouth from you and you whined at the loss. It was short lived, as he sucked two of his fingers and then slid them into your tight cunt, knuckles deep. As he massaged your walls with his fingers, he used his free hand to rub your clit.

“Gonna come for me Y/N? Gonna make a mess for daddy?” Bryan rasped as he curled his fingers, pumping them into you faster.

“Yes, fuck, yes!” You cried out, throwing your head back. Your thighs began to shake and Bryan began to rub your clitoris roughly and haphazardly. You shouted Bryan’s name as you clenched around his fingers, squirting and soaking him in the process. You began to push away from him, overstimulated but Bryan threw his large arm over you, keeping you in place.

“Oh no, no.” Bryan darkly commanded. “Daddy wants more.” He slipped his fingers back into, this time, adding one more into your fluttering cunt and began jackhammering them. He rubbed your clitoris roughly again, the squelching wet sounds filled up the room. You cried out again, feeling the pressure inside you burst, as you squirted again. Bryan lapped you, cleaning you with his tongue, enjoying your flavor.

You barely had a chance to recover, as Bryan slid his body over yours and slid his cock easily into you. You groaned as he filled you, the slight burn sensation mixing with pleasure as you accommodated his girth. He gripped your wrists and placed your arms overhead.

“Hold onto the rails sweetheart.” You looked back and gripped the wrought iron rails, which elongated the length of your body. Bryan covered your mouth with his as he began to drive into you with long, deep strokes. He pounded into you, and you could feel his balls slap against your pussy.

“Yes, oh fuck, yes, yes, fuck me!” You cried out. Bryan leaned up, so he was sitting on his haunches and took both your legs and hooked them over his shoulder. Bryan continued to thrust into you and you let out a wrecked moan as the angle changed, causing his cock to hit your sensitive spot. A sheen of sweat coated both of your bodies as you fucked each other. You released your grips on the rails and began to play to play with your tits, pushing them together and tugging on your nipples.

“Yes…” Bryan grunted. “Play with those titties.”

You moaned, and continued to do so, encouraged by his words. Bryan slowed his thrusting, rotating his hips, teasing you. You let out a choked sob as he did so, and he reached down to rub your clit. “Come for me.” Your legs trembled as you felt yet another orgasm begin to build.

“Oh fuck daddy, oh yes!” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut as you began to tighten around his cock. Bryan paused his movements and withdrew, tapping his cock against your clit furiously. A gush of your come squirted out, covering him and soaking the bed below. You had barely caught your breath when Bryan pulled you up and flopped you onto your stomach. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as you took his length into your mouth again, bobbing on him enthusiastically. You could taste yourself on his cock.

“My dirty slut.” Bryan cooed, as he stroked your now sweaty hair. He wrapped some of it in his fist, guiding you along. You squealed as he reached over and began to lay spanks on your ass.

You released him from your mouth, gasping more. “Yes, daddy, spank me. I have been such a bad girl.”

“Bad girls get punished.” Bryan growled. You looked up at him and nodded eagerly.

“Mmmm, punish me daddy!”

He pulled you up roughly and crushed his mouth against yours - the kiss was all teeth and tongue. He broke the kiss and lightly smacked you on the face and then gripped your chin.

“Is that what daddy's girl wants? To be punished for being such a dirty fucking slut?”

You nodded again. “Yes. Please.” You begged desperately. Bryan repeated the slap and then reached down to grab your tits before also slapping them. You let out a whimper, as the pain mixed with pleasure. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him back down onto the bed. He rolled so you were on top. You leaned forward, rising slightly and reached down for his cock, lining it up along with your entrance.

You both groaned at the sensation. Bryan’s grip on your hips were tight and you were certain there would be marks on your hips in the morning. The room smelled of sex and sweat and the only sound were moans and groans as well as the sound of skin slapping on skin.

You wanted one more - just one more to lessen the ache that only Bryan seemed to create. You reached down and rubbed your clit, closing your eyes as you let this final orgasm crash over you. You slumped forward, dropping your head by his ear as Bryan planted his feet up onto the bed and hammered into you, now chasing his own release. You mewled and whimpered in his ear, begging sweetly for his cum. Bryan stifferned, gripping your hips tightly as he let out an animalistic groan as he spilled his release into you. His release dripped out of you, pooling where you were connected.

You both stayed there for awhile, catching your breaths. Bryan stroked your back as you nuzzled against him. Finally, you rolled off of Bryan and curled into him, stroking his chest hair.

“You certainly know how to keep me young.” Bryan murmured, causing you to laugh. Bryan rolled onto his side, turning to face you. He pushed back the hair from your face. He observed a pink strand. “I like it - you should keep it.”

You smiled. “We’ll see.” Bryan hummed and pulled you to him, where you both fell asleep from the little party you had with one another.

FIN.

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#bryan kneef x reader #bryan kneef smut #bryan kneef imagine #bryan kneef and reader #bryan kneef x you

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charlieliqueur · 3 years

Text

Mark X Camper!Reader (Unus Annus)

Camp Days - Part Two

Note: Sorry it took so long! :/

---

Your eyes boldly locked onto the tent door. You heard it begin to open, and you frantically hid the journal and any other suspicious material under your pillows and sleeping bags. The door opened to reveal Mark.

"Heeey camper," he greeted politely, entering the tent without stopping to ask if it was okay. Didn't matter, you felt like even if you said no, he'd do it anyways. "Y/n right?" He asked. You nodded. "What are ya doing in here all alone?" He asks, giving you a confused look. "Uh, sitting. I don't like mosquitoes..." you said.

"Well, I don't think anyone likes mosquitoes. I was gonna teach some of the other spunky little campers to play a song or two on guitar. You wanna join me?"

"I, um, already know guitar," you spoke, not sure if he'd believe it or not. Was it a lie? You couldn't remember. You had faint memories of maybe playing an instrument, but they were like remembering a childhood dream. Faint and fuzzy.

"Perfect! You can help me!" He said, eagerly and not quite gracefully getting up off the tent floor.

"No, that's not what I-"

"Come on, what else are you gonna do, we're only in camp for another six days!"

"Six days?"

"Yeah! A week of camp Unus Annus, yesterday was the first say, pfft, obviously. Introductions and all..."

"Six days, you're sure?"

"Uh. Duh."

Thoughts went through your head. It wouldn't be hard to keep track of six days. Hell, you could record every minute if you had to.

"I dunno...."

"I'll get Thicc Water to apologize for pelting you and Gerald."

Your blood ran cold. You looked into Counselor Mark's dark, dark eyes. His smile was warm, but... empty. Like it used to hold some semblance of emotion that had long since left him.

"How did you-"

"Oh, y/n, nothing happens in Camp Unus Annus without me knowing. Now come on!"

He unzipped the tent and waited for you to leave as well. You did so, not wanting any hostility. You were hesitant on leaving the journal and everything behind, but you didn't want Counselor Mark to see them, obviously.

It wasn't quite midday, but it wasn't early morning. Maybe 11:00 am or so. Mark had a group of campers around a pit, a box was on the ground nearby, full of Tazer Fire bandanas, almost every other camper had one. You grabbed one awkwardly and began folding in diagonally. Mark sat down on a log with his guitar and started strumming. The other campers watched him with awe.

Then he looked at you. "Come here y/n," he said, beckoning you over. You awkwardly sat down next to him, you didn't feel comfortable in his presence. He looked to you and grinned passing the guitar. For a moment your vision fogged with images of two men in black and white suits. A swirling abyss. You exhaled and took it. "Play us a tune, eh?" He asked, giving a look around the rest, who watched expectantly. Including Gerald.

You managed to set it in your lap correctly, but before you had a chance to play, either well or awfully, suddenly another voice boomed "HEEEY HEEEY MARK!"

All of the campers and the head counselor looked to see a skinny guy with dark hair and a black camp shirt. Counselor Ethan, and his campers. "Day two of camp already!" He said, wrapping an arm around Mark and smiling, but his eyes settled on you a moment. But Mark began talking to him, before Ethan could get a good look at you. "Oh yeah. What are you doing all the way over here, buddy?"

"Oh, y'know, interested in some team building activities. Tug of war, egg races, three legged race, the good ones!"

"Sounds great! Am I right??"

All the campers cheered, except you...

You felt like you were the only sober person left at a weird party.

Counselors Ethan and Mark began leading their campers away from Camp Tazer Fire, and towards a grassy clearing. A few rocks and sticks littered the area, but other than that it was just grass. "Alright everyone, partner up!" Shouted Mark.

You looked around, confused. "Gerald? Gerald??" You shouted, slightly panicked. You'd just seen him at camp, hadn't you? You looked through the crowds of campers, but his face was nowhere. "No buddy? Y/n you know the rules..." said Mark giving you a strange smile and shaking his pointer finger at you. "I know! I'll be your buddy! Just for the rest of camp," he said, looking proud of himself and his idea.

You looked at Mark for a moment, your heart dropping. "The rest of camp? What about Ethan? Isn't he your-"

"Certain rules can be bent in strange circumstances... now come on! Tug of war!"

- - -

You were tired, nervous, hot and sweaty. You were sitting on a rock as, drinking water from an unmarked bottle, as the sun began to set. Hours and hours of games had been played. Being stuck right next to Mark. You'd constantly catch him staring at you, or standing just too close for comfort. This whole time a light, overly electric feeling had been around you. Not the good kind, the kind of electric that you feel before a scary test, or a vaccine shot, or anything dangerous that doesn't excite, that only makes you anxious.

An excess of energy.

Weird energy.

You looked from the sunset towards the rest of the campers, distracted by the sound of footsteps. Mark had made his way over. He smiled, and waved you close to him saying "Come on, let's go."

You raised an eyebrow, and suddenly Ethan shouts "Back to camp, Campers!! A good rest after a good day! Remember the buddy system!" You stood and cautiously walked over to Mark. But Ethan was approaching. Then he extended a hand. Mark seemed hesitant on letting him.

You shook it. It was cold. Ice cold. Dreadfully icy cold. You pulled your hand away immediately after. "Ethan, and you're y/n?" He made short eye contact with Mark, who tried to manage a quick discreet nod. You looked between them a moment. "What's going-"

"Back to camp, eh? Enjoy your time with us Mo- ER y/n!" Said Ethan, awkwardly rushing away. You stared in shock and confusion as he left. Then Mark slipped an arm around your shoulder and said "Like he said, back to camp." And he gave you a slight shake, as you gazed into the distance, confused and scared.

- - -

"Because I'd like some privacy while changing please," you said shakily, trying to convince Mark to stay out of the tent for even just a few minutes. "Alright, alright," he agreed. You exhaled a sigh of relief, softly. You dug the journal out from under your pillow and turned to whatever you thought was the page you were on. It wasn't, but you decided to read whatever you could anyways.

Mori.... momento mori. Remember Death. They say it all the time. What death? With them, death isn't an ending, it's the beginning. Or the middle. Or the constant state of being. Or a being itself. Almost like they're looking for it. Looking for death...

"Almost ready?" Mark interrupted.

"Just a few moments!" You replied. You threw the book closed and stuffed it under the pillow, and quickly changed into clean camp clothes. Then you said "All done." The zipper rustled and the door opened. "Thanks, worried I might get eaten by a bear, or a deer..."

Mark laid down, seemingly relaxed. You sat on your side of the tent, trying to clear your mind. Trying to think. Everything you've learned so far swimming in your mind.

How old the camp sites are, how Mark and Ethan are seemingly immortal. How campers seem to vanish, how GERALD vanished! And now Ethan calling you Mo... was he gonna say mori? Death? What did that even mean? Was it an accident? You didn't think anything was an accident here. Not when you randomly show up at some spooky summer camp out of nowhere with hardly any memories.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Asks Mark.

"Um, how we lost at tug of war..." you lied.

"Yeah, that sucked... but we killed it at the three legged race, am I right??"

You laughed softly, but you weren't amused. You looked around the tent for a few seconds before laying down. You sighed deeply, but quiet enough not for him to hear. "I think it's time to sleep," you said. "You know, good rest and all..."

"Of course, of course. Goodnight y/n..." said Mark, rolling over. He was still laying down, stiff, outside of his sleeping bag. You curled up in yours, wanting some feeling of safety. "Y'know y/n," started Mark, "you always seem so tense. Try to enjoy camp. It is only a week, and you can make friendships that last... forever..."

Mark sounded sad... distant and somber, like remembering something. You could tell something was off. You didn't reply, you didn't want to.

After what felt like an eternity, with Mark still in the same position after hours of laying down, you remember your eyes closing finally and falling asleep.

And then you awoke.

You weren't sure how much later. You just remember waking up to the door opening. You looked, and saw it open, and saw Mark gone. A cool breeze rustled the open tent flap. You sat up, heart beginning to race. You heard leaves rustling and wind howling. Like before a storm, but without the rain. You climbed onto your feet and cautiously peeked outside, your whole torso outside the tent.

Then you saw them. A man in a white suit, a man in a black one, in the distance at the edge of the forest, chatting it seemed. You ducked back into the tent a moment, looking around more cautiously, barely peeked out.

All the other tents were dark, oddly so. And closed and quiet. Like a silence fell over the camp site. Like they all... were in a dead sleep...

You climbed out of the tent, the site being dark enough for you to sneak around in. You hid behind other tents, and rocks, and anything you could.

You were about to go around another tent, when you caught a glimpse of a white pant leg, and you immediately hid behind the tent again, holding your breath. They were right there, talking.

"We've only got five days," said a voice that sounded like Counselor Ethan. But, different... more serious...

"Yes but we have her this time," said a voice, oddly similar to Counselor Mark.

"These hosts will not last forever."

"They've lasted this long."

"And if we cannot.... if we fail before they leave...."

"We won't, my friend. We will find peace again... I promise."

"Yes, peace... momento mori?"

"Momento mori, unus... annus..."

Then you watched them begin to walk towards your tent. What the fuck? Peace? Hosts?? You saw the man in the black suit approach a different tent, as the white suited one headed back to yours. They also looked like Ethan and Mark, but for some reason you didn't want to believe that to be true... The black suited one opened a tent, and pulled out a sleeping camper, and then laid the kid on the rocky ground. What was he....? He wrapped his hands around the kid's throat, and suddenly you realized what was happening.

"Don't-!" You burst out without realizing it.

He looked up, seeing you there. "Mori... can it be...?"

He stood, and turned to you, and you saw the man in the white suit begin to approach as well.

You panicked, turned, and ran, straight into the dark, windy, silent woods.

- - -

To be continued! Sooooo it took a million years to get part two, I know I know. But its here now, right? Sorry guys. A lot happened, and I know many are still hurting after the channel ended. But, here this is, for who ever is still waiting for it.

#markiplier x reader #markiplier #mark fischbach #ethan nestor #amy nelson #camp unus annus fic #camp unus annus #unus annus #unus #annus #annus x reader

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