#long way from done but still v proud
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Claudia interview with the vampire, i love you
#not loki#mogs art#claudia#interview with the vampire#iwtv series#rough sketch#long way from done but still v proud
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Hi! I’ve recently stumbled upon your blog and have fallen in love with it! I was wonder if you could do 141+Konig with a fem virgin s/o? HC or a little one shot- whatever you have time for! Thank you so much! 😊
Thank you SO much for your kind words!! Yes, I can absolutely do this, I've had a few requests for this one. I did a blurb/HC for this, hope it's okay!!🩷🙂
Losing Your Virginity To 141 Boys + König (F! Reader)
Warnings: p in v sex, mentions of oral (f receiving), swearing, cream pie, mentions of pain/discomfort
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Simon Ghost Riley-
So SO incredibly gentle with you
It's not often this man has sex, and he takes it very seriously, so he was quite frankly honored when you wanted your first time to be with him
Will spend as MUCH time as he feels is necessary to prep you. Not only is he quite...gifted down there...but it's also your first time and he's terrified to hurt you
Will constantly whisper praises throughout the night, telling you how beautiful you are, and how well you're doing
Treats you like an angel when you're done, will hold you close, get you a snack, whatever you want, he'll provide it
~
"Promise I'll go slow. Let me know if it hurts too much, and I'll stop." He turned your face toward him gently, his face deadly serious.
"I trust you, Si." You gave him a warm smile before leaning forward to place your lips on his.
He leaned back and cupped your cheek gently, his eyes not leaving yours as he lined himself up with your entrance and pushed himself in slowly.
You let out a silent scream, your eyes squeezing shut as the stretch from him burned at your cunt. It was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, and you knew it was also due to the fact that he was larger than average.
Simon watched you carefully as he began to pepper soft kisses all over your skin. He was a patient man and would remain still for as long as it took for you to be ready.
"Y-you can move, Si." You breathed out after a moment, as the burn started to fade.
He gave a small grunt of affirmation, as he slowly pushed himself all the way in you, eliciting a loud moan from you. Simon had to take a moment to collect himself as he was now fully sheathed inside you, your walls hugging his cock in such a way that made it nearly impossible for him to not cum instantly.
"Bloody fucking hell. This pussy was made for me." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, and his eyes flew open, landing on you. You gave a small giggle as your cheeks flushed a deep red.
"I'm all yours, Simon." You stated matter of factly, pulling his face down to latch your lips on his once more.
Unable to control himself, Simon's hands flew to your waist as he picked up his pace slightly, desperate to make the both of you cum. He watched as your face scrunched together, your mouth falling open slightly in pleasure.
"That's my pretty girl. Taking me so well." He praised, his cock now pounding in and out of your pussy desperately.
You felt a warm sensation building in your belly as your toes began to curl, and your back began to arch. "Simon, I'm.. I'm."
"Let go, sweetheart, I've got you." He cooed, dipping his head down to latch his mouth onto one of your perked nipples.
With one final jut of his hips, you were sent over the edge as your orgasm rippled through you, causing you to tremble underneath Simon.
Simon did his best to help you ride out your orgasm before focusing on his, but the way your walls were hugging at him made him lose his composure. He gave a final lazy thrust into your soaked cunt, before releasing his seed inside you. A shiver coarsed through your body, as you felt his cock pulse inside your walls.
It took a moment for the two of you to regain your composure before Simon looked down at you, a proud smile lining his face. "You were so fucking good, sweetheart. Are you feeling okay?"
You gave a firm nod, a sleepy smile making its way to your lips as you pulled Simon down onto you. "Thank you, Simon. I'm glad it was you."
Simon's heart melted at your soft spoken words as he pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek. "I'm happy it was me too, Y/N. I love you."
Johnny Soap MacTavish-
If you're really nervous about it, he'd be the type to make light-hearted jokes to lighten the mood
He has quite a bit of experience, but he will never, ever make you feel bad about not having any/minimal experience
Will take it seriously, but tries to make it fun for you
He is the BEST at foreplay. If you're new to it, he'll try nearly everything with you
Won't start anything unless he knows you're 100% sure that you want to
~
You let out a small whimper of pain as he pushed himself inside you, cringing slightly at the sound of wetness emitting from your pussy. Johnny was quick to catch on, and his brows furrowed in concern.
"I ever tell you the time I watched Simon fall down the stairs? Man was piss drunk and proceeded to curse each and every stair once he got back up." Johnny chuckled, as he whispered in your ear. "Funniest shit I've ever seen."
You let out a small giggle, Johnny successfully drawing your attention away from the pain. He was able to slip himself fully inside your walls while he placed loving kisses to your skin.
"Johnny." You moaned out, your nails digging into the skin of your lover's back.
"I know, lass. You're doing so well." He cooed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'm gonna start moving, is that okay?"
You nodded as your nails continued to dig into his skin, the burn from his cock now fading, being replaced with pure toe curling pleasure.
Letting out a loud moan, you arched your back slightly as Johnny began a slow pace, his cock slowly massaging at your walls. "S-so good Johnny."
Johnny was trying his best to focus on not cumming, but you were making it incredibly difficult for him. Between your soft moans, and the way your cunt was squeezing his member, Johnny had to pour every ounce of self control he had into making sure you were taken care of first.
His hand slipped between the two of you as his fingers latched into your clit, circling at it vigorously. "You're so beautiful you know that? Can't believe you're all mine."
You let out a guttural moan as his cock slammed into you, his fingers not relenting their assault on your clit. "A-All yours, Johnny."
"That's right, lass." He chuckled, taking in the fucked out look on your face. He picked up his pace slightly, his fingers matching the pace he set with his thrusts.
You hummed in response, your body tightening from your oncoming orgasm, as your nails started to form crescents on Johnny's skin. "So close, Johnny."
"Atta girl, cum for me then."
~
Later that night, Johnny takes you to shower with him as the two of you share in endless laughter. He makes you feel like you are the only woman on the planet for him, and makes you feel so incredibly loved.
König-
Honestly? Definitely the most gentle out of all of these guys
He's very conscious of his size so he goes extra slow with you
Like Simon, he'll prep you until he feels you're ready for him (which may take a bit)
Will ask you at least a half dozen times if you're sure, more specifically if you're sure you want it with him (he's still quite self-conscious)
Will adorably curse in German
~
"Maus..are you sure?" König cradled your face gently, as his cock teased at your soaked entrance. He'd spent the better part of 30 minutes with his head between your thighs prepping you with his tongue until he felt you were wet enough for him.
"Yes, Kö. I want this. I want this with you." You gave him a firm nod as you enveloped your arms around his neck.
He pressed a loving kiss to your lips as he slowly pushed himself into you. He let out a loud groan against your lips, as your walls hugged his thick cock in a vice-like grip. You let out a small whimper, as you tighetend your hold around his neck.
"Does..does it hurt?" He asked timidly. You hissed slightly in response, the stretch of his cock nearly being too much. König remained still, not daring to move an inch until you gave him the okay to do so.
You patted him on the back lightly, signaling to him it was okay to move. He moved painstakingly slow, pulling himself out of you completely, before pushing back into your velvety walls.
You felt like his cock was splitting you open. He was a large man in every aspect, and you felt the tip of him nearly kissing your cervix. Once König had seen that you weren't in pain any longer, he felt comfortable picking up the speed of his thrusts.
"Heilige Scheiße, you feel so good, Maus." He whimpered in your ear as he pressed soft kisses to your neck.
"Kö!" You cried out as he began to hit a spot within you that had you seeing stars. You'd never felt so full in your life.
"Are you doing okay?" He asked, moving your chin so that you faced him.
You gave him a weak nod, unable to keep your eyes open as a tired smile made its way to your face.
~
König made sure that night that you were taken care of before him. After the two of you had finished, he'd carried you to the bathroom, drawing a warm bath for you. The two of you soaked in the tub for nearly an hour, as he massaged at your flesh gently, whispering sweet nothings into your ears.
He was quite possibly the best person you ever could ask for, to be your first.
John Price-
He's gentle, but he doesn't treat you like a porcelain doll
100% will try to make it all about you
If you're comfortable with it, he'll definitely start talking dirty to you, whispering filthy things in your ear as he slowly fucks you
He's decent at aftercare, too. Will draw you a bath, help clean you up, and cuddle you afterward
It will take everything in him not to pounce on you again if he sees bruises from him littering your body. He doesn't want to push your limits
"It's going to hurt a little at first, baby girl. I promise I'll take care of you, though."
John grabbed both of your hands, interlocking them with his own above your head. He nuzzled his face into your neck, softly nipping at the flesh there as he started to ease his way into your pussy.
"Fucking hell, love. You're so tight." He gasped out, his hands squeezing at yours in a desperate attempt to ground himself. It didn't hurt as much as you'd anticipated it to, only feeling a slight sting as your lover fully sheathed his cock inside of you.
He started at a slow pace, watching your features intently. Once he saw no sign of discomfort, he began to speed up slightly as his eyes fell between the two of you. He felt a warmth spread throughout his midsection as he watched your pussy swallowing him whole, a sight he wanted to burn into his brain to keep for all of eternity.
"John!" You whined, your nails digging into his arms as he continued his pace. It felt like nothing you'd ever experienced, and you wanted more of it. "Faster, please."
John gave a dark chuckle before complying. He could never say no to you, especially not when you asked like that. He could feel your walls flutter around him, and he knew you were close.
"You going to be a good girl, and cum with me?" He asked, grabbing your jaw slightly as your legs squeezed at his sides.
You were close, and you could feel your orgasm approaching rapidly as you gave him a lazy nod. "Please."
Price gave a loud groan as your walls clamped down on him. Unable to prolong his orgasm any longer, he gave a few lazy thrusts before spilling himself inside of you.
You let out a breathy moan, still reeling from your orgasm as John placed a wet kiss to your sweaty forehead. "You were so fucking good, baby girl."
He slowly peeled himself away from you, sitting up slightly at the end of the bed. You fully were expecting him to get up off the bed to grab a towel, but what you were not expecting was him to line his face with your seeping cunt. He gave a chuckle before running his tongue along your folds, collecting the remnants of both your orgasms.
"Be a good girl, and let me clean you up, yeah?"
Kyle Gaz Garrick-
VERY romantic about it
Treats you to a fancy dinner first, gets you very comfortable in the bed before he starts anything
Will get your consent at least twice before proceeding
Keeps checking in on you to make sure you're comfortable
Will constantly whisper sweet nothings in your ear throughout the night, making you feel like the most beautiful person on the planet
The BEST at aftercare. Will get a warm towel for you to clean you up, and will cuddle you until you both fall asleep
~
"You're so beautiful, Y/N." Kyle whispered into your ear as he rubbed his cock through your sopping folds. "Are you ready?"
You swallowed thickly, nodding your head at your boyfriend. You'd heard the stories of how painful sex could be for your first time, but you trusted Kyle deeply. You clutched your hands to his shoulders as he sunk his hard cock into you.
The burn was overwhelming at first, and it felt like he was tearing you open. "Kyle."
"Are you okay?" He asked, struggling to keep his composure. You were tighter than he'd expected you to be, and it'd been a while since he'd had sex. "I can stop, baby, just gotta tell me."
"No, just... just give me a sec." You shook your head, your eyes still squeezed shut. You inadvertently clenched your walls down on him, causing him to groan out softly.
"Am I hurting you?" You asked, your eyes flying open.
"No, no, no. You just feel really good, babe." He chuckled, placing a kiss to your brow. Your cheeks burned slightly, at the clear lack of your experience in the bedroom.
"Are you okay if I move a little?" He asked, his eyes softening as they met yours.
"Yes." You breathed as your head fell backward, landing on the pillow behind you. "Please."
Kyle complied and began to jut his hips in a steady rythym. He felt his heart swell with pride at the small mewls that emitted from your parted lips, as it felt good to know he was the first, and last, that would ever make you feel this good.
~
Kyle held you a little tighter that night as the two of you slept and made sure you woke up to a homemade breakfast the next morning. You deserved nothing more than to be treated like the princess you are.
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#simon riley smut#cod imagine#mw2 imagine#simon riley imagine#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost mw2#konig x reader#konig imagine#konig mw2#john price#price x reader#price imagine#gaz imagine#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost imagine#gaz smut#soap smut#soap mctavish#soap imagine#soap x reader
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Haven’t I Been Good to You? | Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader (18+)
my masterlist
Words: 2K
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Neice!Pregnant!Reader
Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), good old fashioned targcest, p n v, overall bad writing because I haven’t properly written in so long
Note: Reader is Rhaenyra’s heir/eldest daughter and the argument takes place after the dinner scene. I tried not to use any physical descriptors but those gorgeous targaryen platinum locks so I hope thats okay and you enjoy. Literally crawling in my skin right now because I’m about to post this, existing is an embarrassment, if you see this ily thank you for reading.
part two
Aemond was anything but cooled off when he returned to his marital chambers that night. He bound into the room, his displeasure from the night clear in his body language and his labored breathing. His wife sat stoically in front of her vanity, clad in only her night dress as she combed through the length of her silky, silver curls.
Aemond stared her down in disbelief as she barely acknowledged him. How could she honestly be angry with him? It was her bastard brothers who started the disagreement, who started the rivalry to begin with, who teased him their whole childhood and took his eye that fateful night on Driftmark. And here she sat, his wife, shoulders back and proud and angry with him.
Gods, she was beautiful when she was angry. If he didn't know her so well he wouldn't be able to tell. She was so serene and regal and surprisingly calm when she was upset. He often thought of how opposite they were in that sense. He thought of how hot tempered and quick to snap he was, and how she thought everything through before it slipped from her pretty lips. He envied this about her, and yet it was what he had loved most about her as well.
Aemond couldn't help it. He broke first. "Where are the children?" He inquired, steadying himself to the best of his ability.
She hardly gave him the time of day as she answered, her eyes not leaving her own reflection. "I've settled them into bed,” she said.
The Prince furrowed his brow. "Did you not think that I would wish to bid goodnight to my sons?"
"The hour is late. They've had their fill of excitement for the day, Husband."
Husband. Not her usual 'my dearest love,' not 'my darling.' He was in trouble far more than what he had bargained for. He eyed her in disbelief. "You're truly taking their side?"
She finally turned then, vast (e/c) eyes meeting his violet one. "There is no side to be taken, Aemond,” he hated her formality when they argued, "We are a family. We're supposed to be on the same side. Did you see how pleased the poor King was to see everyone finally getting along? Our mothers finally found some common ground after all of these years and yet you ruined an otherwise pleasant night with your wounded pride."
"My wounded pride?" he spat harshly, raising his voice at her. "Did you not see the way your beloved brother laughed as they sat a roasted pig in front of me? Or have you forgotten the torment I was subject to as a child? What do you expect to me to do, (Y/N)?"
She stood then, the silk of her long night dress accentuating her rounded stomach. "You are to be the Royal Consort one day, you will be King!" she scolded him sternly, silencing him. "I expect you to be the bigger person. I expect you to act with dignity and not meet the teasing of a child with the ferocity that you did tonight!"
Aemond softened at this, turning away from her to face the burning embers of the hearth. He did not retaliate, only moving to sit in a chair placed in front of it. He gripped the arms of the seat trying to calm himself, breathing deeply.
His wife watched him carefully. "It is not fair. I know it isn't," she swallowed, her eyes glazed over as she did. "I know that it angers you that I love my family after all my brothers have done to you, after what Lucerys has taken from you and I am sorry, Aemond. I truly am."
He was silent still, eye glued to the flames before him as if they were the most important thing in the room. "I cannot keep atoning for crimes I did not commit," her voice was almost pleading as she stepped closer to him then, slowly, testing the water carefully. When he did not retaliate, she kneeled on the floor in front of him. "I know that you would not have chosen me to wed on our own, dear husband."
Her hands reached out to take his, and he allowed it, watching down the bridge of his nose as his wife gently held his hands in her small ones and brought them both to her lips, kissing them tenderly and repeatedly. "We have been honest and good to each other in these near seven years as man and wife, though," she stated, eyes wide and pleading as she rested her chin on his knee. "Have I not been a good to you?"
"You have," Aemond's voice cracked, his eyes fluttering shut at her soft inquisition. He breathed deeply, removing one of his hands from hers and carding it through her beautiful hair. “My love.”
"I have given you my body, mind, and soul. I have given you my virtue, and my fidelity. My heart has only ever belonged to you," she whispered as her husbands tensity began to dissolve between her nimble fingers and lips. Her soft kisses continuing slowly up his arm. "I have bore you two beautiful, healthy boys. Boys that will be Kings and Warriors one day, and I carry another inside me."
The air was stolen from her as Aemond halted her pecking and surged forward, lifting her swiftly from the stone floor to straddle his lap as if she weighed nothing. She gazed down at him, moving to gently remove her husbands eye patch. He hadn't minded the action for years now, as it was a bother to wear and his pretty wife had never judged his appearance or what he had lost all those years ago. She set the patch on the end table next to them, not taking her eyes off of him as her hands slid up his shoulders and found their home at his jawline. Her thumbs moved in slow circles on his face.
"I have given you power," he whimpered at this, gripping the soft meat of her thighs. "Outside the walls of this chamber you are my equal, and one day we will rule the Seven Kingdoms side by side, however we see fit to."
"Yes," he groaned hoarsely, continuing his kneading at her thighs, sitting up to press his lips to her throat, leaving hot opened mouth kisses down her neck to the swell of her breasts as he detangled the strings of her shift, baring her supple chest to him.
"You would like that wouldn't you, My King?" Aemond growled in agreement, continuing his ravishing as she slipped her fingers to the base of his neck and weaved them into his hair, gripping it tightly. "And in this room, you will rule me as you see fit."
"If that we're true then I would bound you to our bed, little wife," he sank his teeth delicately into the flesh of her breast, tongue swirling against the skin, causing her head to snap back in pleasure and a breathy moan to fall from her lips. "You would never leave these chambers. Who would be left to rule if I'm buried inside this sweet cunt for all of our lives, hmm?"
"You have many years before we are crowned for me to ride you, my dragon. And I plan to mount you morning and night,” she grinding into him, their lips meeting finally in a messy kiss. "Surely you'll tire of bedding me by then."
"Never," he pressed his forehead to hers, their breathing hot as he moved a large slender hand to cover her swollen stomach. "I enjoy no sight more than your belly swollen with our children."
She rutted her hips against his once more, her weeping cunt begging for friction. "Please, my dearest love"
"I wonder how the realm would feel if they knew the truth of their precious Princess?" he smirked as she fucked herself on his covered length. "If they knew how she begged for me each night? How wet she gets without me even having to touch her."
"Aemond, please," she wined.
"You wish to ride your dragon, my Queen?" he began hiking up her night dress to rest on her hips.
She panted at his movements, so tender, so achingly slow and teasing. "Yes," she whimpered.
He cocked his brow at her. "What's stopping you? Claim me then."
She didn't have to be told twice. Her trembling hands moved frantically to the strings of his pants, unfastening them and pulling them down to his thighs. He hissed as she took his length into her hand, stroking it sweetly before he lifted her hips and guided her to sink down on him. Her eyes screwed shut, crying out in pleasure as she adjusted to the size of him. Neither of them moved for a moment, their breathing tense and labored.
Aemond brushed a lock of hair out of his wife's face, her forehead falling to meet his as he cradled her head with his hand. "Alright?"
"Mhm," she hummed needily, bracing herself as her hands dropped to his shoulders. Aemond's free hand moved to cover the swell of her stomach, a lazy grin forming on his lips, before finding it's way to her hips once more, helping to roll them against his. Aemond cursed, his jaw going slack as his wife unraveled above him. Once she found her footing, she picked up her pace, bobbing up and down steadily, her finger nails curling into his shoulders. His hips snapped up to meet hers, and she cried out, his name tumbling from her lips like a prayer. Something came undone in him at the sound, his hands were everywhere then, cupping her full breasts, wrapped around her throat, sinking into her thighs. He was pawing at her like she would disappear if he let go for one second, grunting like a wild animal as he rutted against her.
"So good," he captured her lips in a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth clashing. "So pretty and all mine."
She babbled something nonsensical in appraisal, her heat clenching around his cock as he worshipped her, their movements becoming sloppy as they approached their peak. "I'm so close."
"Say you love me," he demanded, fingers making their way to her pearl as he toyed with it, causing her to squeak at the touch. "Tell me again that you're mine and mine alone."
"Please," she panted, whimpering as he fucked into her relentlessly, hitting her sweet spot with each thrust. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou."
Aemond's fingers were torture, slow and taunting. "Say it."
"I'm yours," she cried out. "Only yours. Please--"
"Let go," he permitted, following close behind as she toppled over the edge, back arching and eyes rolling back as she was overcome with pleasure. They were still, chests heaving and hot breath mingling as they came down from their shared orgasm. Her nimble fingers tangled into his hair, brushing it away from his sweat soaked neck. He fell back into the chair, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her.
"I would've chosen you," he broke the silence after a long moment. She lifted her head slightly to look him in the eye, confusion evident as if she had not registered what he said. "When you said that you weren't the wife I would have chosen for myself. If I had been presented with a choice, I would've chosen you."
Her gaze softened at the sincerity and raw emotion flickering in his eye. "Then choose me now. Choose our family," she gripped his shirt tightly, pleading with him. "Love me more than you hate them."
Aemond sighed deeply, covering her hands with his. "I do love you. More than anything."
"Then promise you will try."
Neither wanted to admit what they both knew, that even if he did, it was too late. The King's health dwindled more and more by the day, and the wounds cut between the Greens and the Blacks were too old and too deep for even their love to heal. The time was coming where they would have to choose. War was looming and their last chance at peace had slipped through their fingers like flowing water. So they didn't, and chose in silence to carry on pretending while they still could.
Aemond cupped her face gently, and pulled her into a soft, sweet kiss. "I promise," he whispered, the sweetest of lies, and he met her lips again in a more fervent kiss.
And she let herself hope, she let her self believe, just a little while longer.
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond imagine#Aemond Targaryen fanfic#aemond x velaryon!reader#hotd aemond#aemond x y/n#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon imagine#hotd#hotd imagine#ewan mitchell
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clicker
words: 600
warnings: 18+ only, smut, kind of pet play but it really is just the clicker, clicker training (duh), female recieving oral, p in v sex, semi public sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation
your eyes are squeezed closed, so you don’t even realize the source of the sound as your eyes blink open, body still shaking from your high as rafe is smiling between your legs, one of his hands raised, a clicker held between his long fingers.
rafe leans in, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit, making you whine when his lips make contact with your red sensitive skin.
“what is that?” you question, gesturing to the clicker, but rafe just smiles, moving to kneel between your legs, his cock rubbing over your wet folds before thrusting in.
you hear the clicker a second time that night when he makes you cum again.
--
you are trying to stifle your moans, palm pressed against your mouth, praying you won't get caught. you should have known rafe wouldn't be able to resist you in the tight dress, but you thought he could at least wait until you got home.
instead, he guided you back into the dressing room and pulled the dress up to reveal your cunt.
“r-rafe.” you whimper, eyes rolling back in your head as his cock repeatedly enters you, careful not to push all the way in and have the sound of skin slapping reveal what you are doing behind the door.
“cum for me baby, come on.” rafe whispers, moving your hand to your clit, encouraging you to touch yourself.
you rub at your clit, moving your head further into rafes shoulder, teeth gently sinking into his skin to keep you silent while he thrusts. you feel him swell inside of you and know he won’t last much longer.
you feel one of his hands leave your hip but don’t pay much attention until he releases inside of you, triggering your own orgasm, suddenly realizing that he has the clicker in his hand as he presses it at the height of your orgasm.
“oh fuck.” you whine into his skin, body shaking as you come down from your high.
“shh.” rafe smiles, shoving the clicker back into his pocket and giving you a kiss on your pouty lips.
--
“give me a number between one and ten.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head as he rushes around the living room, getting his things ready to go.
“uhh, six.” you shrug.
“thats how many times i’ll make you cum tonight then.” rafe says, wishing he could just stay with you today, but he’s been neglecting his guy friends and promised a golf outing as well as drinks at the country club.
rafe makes you cum six times once he gets home, one with just his fingers, three with his mouth, and two on his cock, each time your high peaks, he reaches over to press the clicker. you’re so exhausted and blissed out by the end of the night that you can’t even muster up the energy to ask about the clicker.
--
“come on.” rafe whines, pawing at your dress.
“no, rafe, i’m busy! give me an hour and i promise i’ll be done.” you continue to type out your essay, knowing you need to get it done. rafe is incredibly supportive of you taking online college classes, but it can be hard for him when you don’t give him your undivided attention.
rafe just frowns, leaving the room only to enter a few minutes later, this time with the clicker in hand.
“rafe, no-” you warn, but his fingers press down and your thighs clench together, a rush of wetness flooding your cunt as you let out an involuntary moan.
“wanna fuck now?” rafe asks. you glance between him and the essay open on your laptop, sighing dramatically before shutting the screen.
rafe has a proud smile plastered on his face at the success of his clicker.
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wanna bet?
quinn hughes x fem!reader
summray: you make a bet with quinn, which of you will win?
wc: 2.9K
warnings: nsfw 18+ smut, unprotected sex, p in v (practice safe sex guys!), oral fem receiving, spitting, cussing, dirty talk. there's some plot but it's mostly smut.
an: OH BOYYYYYY... i'm a little nervous to post this... GULP. it's my first time writing smut, so hopefully you guys all enjoy!! it took me like 4 hours LOL! writing smut is hard guys... thank you to all of my smut writing warriors. ALSO i tried my hand at making a header for my work, i kinda like it?? i cant tell if i ate or not..LMFAO. anyways im done yapping. like and reblog if you like, as always much love as always.
happy reading <3
“We should make a bet.” I say to Quinn as we’re getting ready for a home game between the Canucks and Winnipeg Jets.
He looks at me confusingly as he finishes tying his tie in the mirror. “What kind of bet are we talking about?” he mutters back. “I don't know, something spicy and fun '' I say, as I make my way over to him to fix his crooked tie.
“Hm..i like the sound of that” quinn says, as he rests his hands on my waist pulling me closer to his body. I chuckle at his sudden change in interest, finally fixing his tie, I rake my eyes over his face.
“I have an idea,” I say as our eyes remain locked, “and what's that baby?” Quinn says, I can feel his gaze now locked on my lips.
“If you score tonight, i'll let you do whatever you want to me.'' I say, as I slowly trace my hands around his neck to play with his hair, leaning my body further into his. “if you don't score, i get to do whatever i want to you, but you can't touch.”
I can feel quinns breath hitch in his throat, as I press myself completely against his front, planting soft kisses down his neck and across his jaw. His hands moving from my waist, to my ass, griping is hard and pulling me even tighter against him.
Quinn tips his head down to try and connect our lips together, I quickly move my head to avoid his kiss. “How do those conditions sound?” I say, looking at quinns now flushed state.
“They sound really good, baby, they would sound even better if you'd let me kiss you.” he says, slowly moving our faces closer together.
I slowly shake my head no, as I pull myself apart from him. “ I have to finish getting ready, and so do you.” I say, while looking at a wide eyed, flustered quinn.
“You actually hate me, don't you?” Quinn says, looking at me, still wide eyed. “no i don't, i just like making you suffer.'' I grin back at him.
“So are we shaking on this?” Quinn says, finally collecting himself. Without a word I held my hand out to him, waiting for him to grasp it. Our eyes are locked, as Quinn pulls his arm forward, his hand finally finding mine, pulling it into a firm handshake. “you're on Hughes,” I said to him. “No you're on, I'm scoring tonight, just for you baby '' Quinn says grinning at me like a kid in a candy store.
I step forward and press a sweet kiss on his lips, pulling away before he has the chance to deepen it, “may the best man win” i say before turning away from him, to finish getting ready.
I'm nervous, not for the game, but for tonight. My nerves are getting the best of me as I sit in the stands waiting for the puck to drop. My eyes follow Quinn as they warm up on the ice.
I'm starting to think I'm a dumbass for even betting on this. Quinn is super competitive, he's not going to let me win, but damn do I want to win.
Pushing those thoughts to the back of my head, I settle in my seat, gaze locked on ice as the first whistle signaling the game has begun goes off.
This is going to be a long game, a long night, I think to myself.
The Canucks win in a shutout, 5-0. I couldn't be more proud of them as they skate off the ice. Most importantly I couldn't be more proud of myself for finally winning a bet against quinn.
They played an incredible game tonight, with 5 amazing goals, not none of those coming from quinn. I couldn't help but secretly be happy that he didn't score.
I leave the stands and make my way towards the locker room, waiting for Quinn to finish up with getting ready and press interviews. Around 45 minutes later, I see Quinn make his way towards me. I open my arms to him, grasping him in a hug, “good game baby” I say to him as he pulls away, whispering a small “thank you” in my direction.
We start to make our way to the parking lot, silence surrounds us, it starts to make me nervous. “Any updates on Thatcher?” I ask, who went to the locker room during the second period, with an injury. “We don't know too much right now, hopefully we get some updates tomorrow morning on his status.'' Quinn says as he throws his bags in the back seat of the car, before sliding over to open the passenger door for me.
“Hopefully he’s okay, I'm sure he is. He's a tough guy, keep me updated when you get any information." I say to Quinn, as he's pulling out of the parking lot. “I will.” he says shortly. I frown at his shortness, in the conversation.
“Are you okay?” i ask him quietly, “yeah, im okay.” he replies back quickly. Not wanting to push, I decided that's a good enough answer, keeping my gaze locked on my lap the whole way home.
The car comes to a stop, signaling that we made home. I quickly got out of the car, wanting to escape the tension that was starting to suffocate me. Unlocking the door quickly, speeding my way upstairs to the bathroom, not even looking back to see if Quinn was behind me.
Closing the bathroom door quickly, I take a deep breath to regain my thoughts. Is Quinn mad at me? Is he upset over Demko? Upset that I won the bet? Upset that he didn't score? I don't want him to be upset with me, especially over this, this was supposed to be hot and cute and now i feel like it's blown up in my face. A bet that I don't even care about at this point.
5 minutes later, after I've calmed myself down. I see Quinn on the edge of the bed, when I open the bathroom door. Taking another deep breath, I start to make my way across our bedroom to the closet. As I'm beginning to pass the bed where Quinn sits, I feel him grab my leg, pulling me back towards him.
My nerves are rising again. I'm now in between Quinn's legs, looking down at my feet as I wait for him to say something. I feel his hands run up my thighs, gripping them with a slight pressure. Trailing them higher on my body, over the Hughes jersey that covers my upper half. Quinns hands, finding their home on my waist, for the second time today.
“Baby, look at me,” Quinn says, gently but with authority. I slowly lift my head up to lock my eyes to his. “I think we have a bet to take care of.” he says to me, my brain doesn't even register what he just said to me, before i start speaking. “are you mad at me? I feel like you're mad at me. We don't have to do this, it's just a bet it doesn't really matter to me Quinn. I thought this was a good idea earlier but now i dont think it's a good idea. I know you're definitely mad at-”
I'm quickly cut off by the feeling of quinns lips on mine. Taking me by surprise it takes my body a few seconds to respond. Once I do, my hands are instantly finding his hair, as Quinn pulls me down so I'm now straddling his lap, our kiss getting more intense by the second.
I began to grind myself on his bulge that I felt growing beneath me. Quinn begins painting beneath me, his mouth opening enough for me to slide my tongue into his mouth, pulling myself into him. Our mouths began to fight for dominance. Our bodies move against each other at a faster rate. Quinns hands pushed my waist hard against his, causing me to moan into his mouth.
Quinn pulls back suddenly, causing me to wine more. “Does it look like I'm upset with you baby?” he asks me as he starts to suck on my neck leaving kisses in his wake, causing me to arch my back closer into his mouth. Pulling away from my neck, looking at each other as we’re both panting. “I was acting like a sore loser” quinns says while rubbing slow circles on my thigh, eyes still locked with mine. “I don't like losing, and I really don't like not being able to have my way with you, not being able to touch you.” he breathes out at me. I'm struggling to find my words while he's looking at me like that.
“Quinn. I don't care about this stupid bet anymore, I want you now." I don't even wait for him to respond to me before I'm crushing our lips back together. The kiss is hot, with need and want. Our teeth and tongues clashing together.
I find the will to pull myself off Quinn, now standing in front of him. Without saying anything, I began to peel off my clothes. Pulling off the jersey, leaving me in a black lacy bra, and my jeans. Quickly moving my hands to my jeans, unbuttoning them quickly, pulling them down with my underwear, kicking them off my feet. Reaching behind me and unclasping my bra. Leaving me completely bare in front of Quinn.
“I want you naked, now.” I say to Quinn, who moves in supersonic speed pulling off his clothes and throwing them somewhere behind me.
“Fuck baby.'' Quinn says as he's pulling me into him again. “You look so hot right now, all for me too.” tracing his hands down my bare sides, causing my skin to erupt in goosebumps in his wake.
Leaning forward he begins to press kisses against my stomach making his way down to my pussy, my breath begins to hitch, I'm afraid my legs are going to buckle beneath me. “Can I taste you baby? I want to taste your sweet pussy, haven't in so long.” he says, as he slowly pulls my thighs apart. I can't find it within me to stop him, I don't care about the bet anymore. I need him to do something. “Yes please” I told him. He doesn't need to be told twice.
Quinn quickly throws me down on the bed, my body making a small thud as it hits the bed. Quinn immediately pulled my thighs apart so he could rest between them.
I'm knocked out of my daze, as I feel Quinn start to press kisses on the inside of my thighs, my breath is beginning to quicken again. “Look at me baby” he says, as he lifts his head to reach my eyes.
I crane my neck to meet his gaze. Getting a good look at him, pupils blown with lust, his lips swollen and red, hair a mess, seeing him in this state turns me on even more.
“Please Quinn,” I yelled out to him, shifting my body closer to his face. I need something, anything. ‘So impatient” Quinn chuckles, as he leans in closer to my pussy, so close I can feel his breath fan on my folds, causing me to slowly moan. “Keep your eyes on mine or I will stop. Got it?” he roughly says to me, nodding my head yes quickly. “Words baby” he says, “yes, yes quinn” i say urgently.
Before I know it his face is diving into my cunt, his tongue instantly finding my clit, making arch my back into him. “Fuck” i say in a strangled moan, as my hands find their way to quinns hair, pushing his face deeper in my cunt.
His tongue is lapping me up like a grown man starving, his hands are pushing my legs so hard and so far apart it almost hurts, but I can't find it inside me to care. His pace began to quicken, pushing his tongue in and out of my cunt. “Who got you this wet baby?” he mumbles into my heart. “You! Fuck right there baby” i moan out, as quinn slowly pushes 2 fingers in.
The pressure is beginning to build in my stomach, between quinn fingering me and lapping and sucking on my clit is enough to push me over the edge. “Harder, faster, fuck quinn.'' I managed to push out, his actions now becoming faster and more aggressive than before.
Before I realize, my peak is coming. My hips grinding themselves on quinns face, desperate to cum. “That's it baby, there you go.” he says, as i begin to push myself on his fingers deep inside of me. Moving his thumb to now, rub my clit at a fast rate. “fuck quinn im coming” i push my head flat against the pillow as my body archs into him. “Fuck, don't stop. Quinn please don't stop, please please” i began to blubber out as i began to cum all over his fingers. Continuing to grind myself against him, taking anything that he’ll give me.
Quinns hands keep my thighs from closing shut and he removes his fingers and replaces them with his tongue. Riding me through the last of my orgasm. My moans and pants are filling the room, my breath leaving my lungs as I finally come down from my orgasm.
Quinn slowly pulled his face away from my heat. “That was the hottest thing, ive never seen, fuck” he says before making his way on top of me, his lips finding mine.
Wrapping my arms around his neck pulling his chest to mine. Our bodies rocking together, “quinn” i say breathless, as his tongue is attacking my neck, moving his mouth lower down my body. Grasping my left nipple in his mouth, gently biting it, then releasing it into his mouth, wrapping his hot tongue around it. The action causes me to moan loudly, pushing my already close body even closer, if that's even possible.
As good as his assault on my boobs feels, I need him inside of me now. “Quinn” I say firmer this time. Pulling his face to mine, “ i need you to fuck me now, please now” i say panting in his face.
That seems to flip a switch inside of quinn, he's quickly lining up his cock, with my entrance, slowly pushing himself into me. Quinn goes as he fully enters me, our eyes locking for a quick moment before I lift my head to bring myself to his lips. This kiss is different from the others, love and passion filled, a kiss that isn't rushed. “Can I move baby?” quinn asks from above me, “yes please fuck me” i pant back into his mouth, bringing our lips back together again.
Quinns hips quickly snapping against mine, pulling out fullying before pushing himself back into me. The quick motion caused the both of us to moan loudly, “harder” I moan out to him. “You want me to fuck you harder baby?” Quinn says back to me. To answer his question I push my hips up to meet his thrusts, quinn moves one of his hands from my waist to my right leg, and pushes it above his shoulder. the new angle, hitting a depth i didn't know was even possible. Fucking me at a pace so good, that i didnt want him to stop.
The sound of groans, moans and our skin meeting and slapping together fills our room, our bodies slick with sweat. My eyes flutter open meeting quinns eyes, as he fucks me so deep and so good, my mouth is hung open but no words are coming out.
Grabbing my jaws he leans down and spits into my mouth “swallow” he orders, his eyes still locked with mine. I do as he says, swallowing every last bit.
“Fuck you’re so hot” quinn moans at me, as he continues to fuck me. “More more '' I moan loudly at him, Quinn then pushes both of my legs on his shoulders. Fucking me so deep i can feel him in my stomach.
“Im gonna cum, baby” Quinn breathes in my ear, his face dropping to my neck as he picks up his pace. I feel the familiar burn build up in my stomach again. “Don't stop, im almost there please dont stop” i wine at him urging him to go even faster.
Grabbing our headboard, using more strength to push himself harder into me. One singular snap of his hips causes me to cum. “Quinn quinn, im coming fuck fuck fuck” i moan loudly. “come for me baby fuck” quinn says as he continues to fuck me though my orgasm.
“Im cumming” he sputters out, his lips finding mine. Our bodies move together as we’re coming down from our highs.
My legs slowly come down from his shoulders, Quinn slowly pulling out of me, wincing as he does. Collapsing beside me, our chests falling and rising together, pants fill the room still. I turn my body to his hand tracing his chest and neck. Pushing his hair that's fallen in his face back. Quinns arms circled around my waist pulling me closer to him.
“So much for the bet huh?” he says while laughing, pulling me in for another kiss.
#nhl fanfiction#nhl hockey#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#nhl fic#quinn hughes smut#vancover canucks#hockey smut
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ONLY ANGEL II - CHERRY
Don't you call him baby
We're not talking lately
Don't you call him what you used to call me
part one
summary: coriolanus has at last returned to the capitol only to find you engaged to felix and he simply won't have that...and neither will you it seems
pairing: postacademy!coryo x capitol!reader
warning: MDNI!! swearing, dark themes, violence, infidelity, smut, hand-job, fingering, oral sex, orgasm denial, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spitting, mild breeding kink, v mild daddy kink, probs like a small exhibition kink, coryo probs has a cherry kink (lmao), murder, these two are sick in the head
notes: i saw a tiktok and it was a recipe video and the caption was 'baking bc murder is wrong' and i feel like reader took that personally. this took me way too long to finish and im still not in love with it but hope u find joy in it! (also let me add felix lived in the book but he did die in the movie 🤭)
"Do you hear that, Coriolanus? It's the sound of Snow falling."
His eyes quiver as water unintentionally wells staring down at his handkerchief, next to everything else that incriminated him.
He had won, he had won, who cares how he had done it. And you had been there, smiling up at him with such pride, not a single thought besides looking at Coriolanus. He had won for you.
And now he was here unable to tear his eyes away from his mistakes.
He hears your heels clipping against the hard floor behind him, but he can't look at you, he can't face you, not yet. You can't see him like this. He needs to find a way out of this first. He wants to plead with you to listen, beg you to stay by his side. You know he wants to too, he can feel it in the air, your shame towards him. You huff out a laugh, the sound ringing out like distant wedding bells in his head, then you're walking away from him without a single word your heels hitting the floor harshly with every step you take until he's left in silence.
Alone.
-
He watches the districts blur past him sitting wearily on the train dragging him away from his home, dragging him away from you. He runs a hand through his buzzed hair, the only solace in the whole ordeal, at least he didn't have his curls to be cursed by the memory of your hands in them. He knows he'll never see you again, even if he returns you'll want nothing to do with him. He glances at Sejanus across from him, the small smile on the Plinth boy's face, and his nails dig into his palm.
"President Coriolanus Snow." You had whispered up at him. Now he was just a useless ordinary peacekeeper sent to die out in the districts while you laid in Felix Ravinstill's bed.
He glares out the window. No he won't have that, not one bit. He'll find a way home to you, find a way to make you proud of him again no matter if he has to obliterate all of District 12 to do it. He'd burn it all down, burn the world down too while he's at it...for you.
One year later
He stares at you the whole entire party, watches you nurse your drink so delicately the color of it staining your lips marroon. You're wearing a similar shade satin dress, the cowl neckline draped across your breast, every curve hugged exquisitely, and your ass... Coriolanus was hard the minute his eyes found you, and it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
You never look his way once.
This party was for him, because of him. Because attending University, working under Gaul had thrown The Hunger Games to new heights, him to new heights. Everyone was celebrating another successful game, celebrating his hard work.
You wouldn't look at him.
His work wasn't done of course, he still needed to ascend further to rightfully take the Presidency. He could do it, especially with this newly found wealth and respect. He was back where he belonged; on top.
And you wouldn't look at him.
He knew it had everything to do with that giant rock on your left hand, your fiancé's nasty arm around your waist. He sneered into his own drink, Mrs. Ravinstill. It sounded horrid.
You never sought him out once he had returned to the Capitol after his...punishment. Never came to find him once your fiancé came home from University informing you Coriolanus Snow had at last returned. He knew he'd never see you there; you never intended on going, content on marrying the President. He figured as much, knew it was too far fetched to imagine opening his front door to find you there begging him to take you back. You would never beg.
He needed to speak to you, demand why you chose Felix over him, why you wouldn't come see him in his newly remodeled pent house. He needed to fuck you, be inside you, taste your sweet spit again. Nothing else had gotten him through those horrible months in 12, but the thought of getting back home to you.
And you wouldn't fucking look at him.
He knew you were deliberately ignoring him, another game you liked to play the only thing missing was that hard candy dripping from your lips. A cat playing with her food, but he was different now, a snake rather than a mouse and he had not lied and schemed and clawed his way back for you to pick Felix Ravinstill over him. He watched you peel off heading towards the bathroom, and he took his chance stalking after you. You were fixing your lipgloss when he barged in. You didn't even flinch, only glanced at him through the mirror.
Your smirked as you fixed the corner of your mouth. "Hi Coryo," His cock twitched at the old nickname.
"Marry me." He cut to the chase and you raised an eyebrow at him. He had the money now, the respect, soon the presidency, everything you had wanted him to get, he had gotten. Sure it had taken an unconventional route, but the destination would be all the same. He dug into his pocket, pulled out the red velvet box, and opened it revealing a huge diamond ring, bigger than Felix's. It was the first thing he bought when the Plinth's wealth soon became his. You eyed it and then turned back to fixing your makeup.
"No." You scoffed.
He snapped the box close and tucked it away. "Marry me." You shake your head at him smirking to yourself as you put your lip gloss away. He walks up behind you keeping some distance between the two of you, he needs to touch you but he pauses his fingers itching forward to grab onto your skin. "You never came to see me." He remembers waiting at the train station, to see you one last time. He never got to explain what had happened, how he did it all for you. He even knew if it came down to it he would have disgraced himself by begging you to wait for him, he knew if he did you would only stray from him more. But you never showed up, and soon he was being carted off to District 12.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Your hand tapped against the sink ceramic clinking with the sound of your ring, he should have known better than to expect an answer, "He proposed after graduation, at my party, you were supposed to attend." You met his gaze in the mirror as he towered behind you, the explanation plainly on your face; you had been ashamed of him. "I thought you were better than that." You didn't care that he cheated, you only cared that he got caught.
He takes a step forward as you slowly turn to face him your foot plants between the two of his, knee caressing his thigh fraying his nerves under warm skin. "I am." He can't help it, his knuckle strokes your cheek. "Thought you were my angel...forgive me."
You push up lightly breathing up at him; it was your version of forgiveness. "Do you like my lipgloss?" You ask the sweet fruity scent of it swirling up towards him, he knows what it would taste like.
"Cherry."
"I wore it for you." You add as you toy with his shirt moving even closer until he feels your breath on his mouth.
His bottom lip brushes against yours, breast pressing into his chest, his clothes feel too tight, "Are you gunna let me taste it?" You're too close, his body too hot, his hard cock digging into your flesh as you slip a hand between bodies to run a palm along it; absolution for his sins.
"Should I?" You ask into his open mouth and he finds his hand on your collarbone. He doesn't know why you do this to him, place yourself on the small string just out of reach for him, and it takes everything in him to not choke the air out of you for doing it, for teasing him constantly after going so long with your silence. He should leave you to rot, but he can't. He simply...can't. Your cherry venom had snuck into him, ran through his blood, thickened his arteries, and your fangs were holding on too tight.
"Everything I did was for you."
You raise an eyebrow, "You still got found out." You jutted your bottom lip out your whisper hot against his teeth, he could smell the cherry wine on your breath "Left me all alone."
He grits his teeth, wants to explain he had no control over any of it, but you didn't care. "I'm back now." His hands grab onto your waist enjoying the feel of your body under his palms once more his lips grazing against yours, "I killed anyone who was ever going to keep me from you."
"Not everyone."
Felix.
"I'll kill him too."
You snarled against his mouth, "Good."
He smashed your mouths together, and you opened right up for him. You tasted of cherry, as sweet as before as he sucked the wine from your lips, licking it off your tongue. He thought of nothing but you his whole time out in that pest filled district, he fell asleep dreaming of your mouth, your breasts, your sweet cunt waiting drenched for him back home. You bit down on his bottom lip and tugged backwards before glancing up at him.
Your hands were so far down his pants, running down the length of him, gathering precum and smearing it across to slide a soft hand around the shaft. He groans into your mouth as you grip harder, move faster. "Did you miss me Coryo?" You coo against his face. "Missed my hand, my pussy, wrapped around you so tight." You squeeze, nails grazing as you swirled around his cock. "Did you think of me often? Think of me while you had to cum down a dirty drain?"
He squeezes his eyes tight, "Yes." He pants, and he hates that it was always true. He doesn't like this, doesn't like how you're pulling this power play over him, but your fucking hand was pumping him for all his worth, and he can't find himself to care.
"I'm still your little slut Coryo." Your fingers graze his balls, tongue licking along his teeth. "Are you still mine?"
"Yes." He grunts out not able to stop the cum shooting hard into your hand all on the inside of his pants.
You grin up at him, "Someones quick off the mark."
He wants to slap you, slap that smile off your lips but instead he watches you pull your hand out to lick the cum off of it. He shoves you backwards, shoving your legs apart running a hand up your thigh meeting your bare wet pussy. His eyes flickered around your face, you knew tonight would have been his last straw, you knew he couldn't stay away any longer. He runs a knuckle through your wet folds power surging through him as he pushes two fingers inside of you.
He bites back the groan as his hand sinks into you relishing in the noise as he curls it up inside of you, savoring the moan clawing up your throat. You attach your lips to his as he begins to thrust in and out you pressing up against that soft spot that has you mewling down his throat. He presses a palm to your clit, "Coryo." You whimper out and he's moving his hand faster, fucking you with it vigorously feeling your hips tilt to meet his thrust.
Your walls spasm around his hand. He pulls off your mouth sucking down your neck, teeth digging into skin. "That's it, cum for me angel." His thumb shifts rubbing into your clit pleasure tightening your legs against his own as they try to part further, pushing his fingers deeper. He shoves down the front of your dress exposing your breast for him to knead into his palm, dipping down wrapping his mouth along your nipple rolling it around his tongue, nipping at it gently as your hands run through his hair. "Did you miss me too?"
"No."
He looks at you, takes in your smug expression and all he wants to do is slam your head back so hard the mirror cracks. "You're a fucking liar." He growls out at you, hand covering your face as he thrust hard and deep. "You touched yourself every night thinking of me." He pounds his hand into you harder your back hitting against the mirror, you're getting wetter by it, turned on by his violence the wanton moans spilling past your lips, "Thought about me fucking you since you learned I came back for you."
You let out a breathy laugh, "Fine...I missed you a little." You were never one to show your hand, so he takes what you give him.
He grabs your face between his fingers squeezing, "Don't ever fucking lie to me again."
"I promise." You moaned.
He's holding under you with one hand slamming into you the sick sound of it echoing around the bathroom, "Scream my name when you cum." He leans down close to your ear. "I want you fiancé to hear what a fucking whore you are for me."
And gods you do. You scream his glorious name out into the open air clamping down around him, cumming against his hand letting him draw slow circles around your clit until you whine for him to stop. He pulls his hand out of you and quickly sucks his fingers, swirling around his digits to drink up your nectar sweet pleasure licking up your sweat along your neck.
"Did he touch you?" He nips at your chin.
You chuckled, "I told you before I'm waiting for marriage."
"Such an angel." He kisses your open mouth.
"Your angel."
Coriolanus has his arms wrapped around your body supporting you against the sink. "You didn't come see me." He listens to your heart hammering in your chest as you catch your breath.
You run your hand through his shorter hair. "I miss your curls Coryo."
"Answer me." He finally demands staring down at you.
You sighed, "Felix wouldn't let me." You pouted trying to twist your fingers around his shorter hair but it was harder so you gave up, "So I kept my distance, watching you climb like the man I knew you always were, waiting for you." Your hands snaked around his neck smiling up at him eyes darkening, "Waiting for you to finally come take whats yours."
He searched your eyes, "Want me to steal you away in the night from that idiot of a fiancee?"
"It isn't stealing if it always belonged to you."
His eyes flicker around your face, the reassuring ownership written there. He kisses your lips one more time before stepping back watching as you straighten out your dress once again having to fix your makeup and hair. "Marry me." He asks standing behind you in the mirror.
"No." You turn your body towards him. "I can't." You take a step forward hands resting on his stomach, "What are we going to do about that?"
He wraps his hand around yours, "Whatever it takes."
You don't even hide it as you exit together, not even as you head back into the party side by side. You know as well as him that you looked better next to Coriolanus, you belonged next to him. Your arm is tucked into Coriolanus's as the pair of you approach your soon-to-be husband who's eyes flare in alarm at the sight."Where'd you go?" He asks already taking in the mark on your neck, the flushed cheeks. He wants to grab you, lock you away, but he wouldn't dare move as you had attached yourself with Coriolanus.
Coriolanus looks down your body wondering if Felix can smell his cum sticky against your fingers as you speak. "I ran into Coriolanus." You motion to him as his eyes find Felix's angry ones.
"Coriolanus." He grits out. He knew, the poor bastard knew and he wouldn't say a thing, not in public anyways.
He smirks, "Felix."
You place your ringed hand on his chest, "Coriolanus was just telling me how wonderful it has been working with Dr. Gaul." You lied fingers splaying over his muscled chest white clumps clinging to your skin.
And only because Coriolanus enjoys pissing off Felix Ravinstill he places his hand over yours stroking a finger down your wrist. "You should stop by some day, if your free." He knows you always are, he knows Felix isn't. "I haven't seen you outside classes Felix, it will be nice for all of us to catch up."
Felix opened his mouth the decline sitting there, the bottled up cuckholding rage oozing off of him, but you smiled, dripping with fake sweetness. "Oh that would be lovely, nice distraction from wedding planning." He knew you weren't doing any of that. "How sweet of you Coriolanus." You looked up at you fiancée with those big eyes anyone would fall for.
Felix swallowed, biting out the submission. "How sweet indeed."
What a weak, spineless fool.
There's a knock on his door.
He watches it for a moment before standing up to unlock it.
"Hi Coryo," You lean against his doorframe smiling up at him. He always imagined you coming here, showing up, begging him, but that wasn't your style. "Gunna let me in?" He moves to the side to allow you to walk inside his home. "This is truly gorgeous." You praised him walking through his newly refurbished home. You had never seen if before, but he was glad for it, the after was more...fitting to the lifestyle Coriolanus wanted to give you.
He wanted to ask what you were doing here, but he knew what you wanted, could smell your arousal like a feral animal. "Does Felix know you're here?" He asked locking the door behind him.
You smirk still taking in the room before turning to look at him. "I hope he does."
Would you tell him? Why you kept lying to the poor man, why you didn't just leave him? Were you waiting for Coriolanus to make the first move in this game you had set up? He moves until he's standing in front of you, glancing down at you, "I got you something."
You gazed up at him under batting eyelashes, "How kind of you."
Coriolanus went into his old room picking up the present and walking back out to you. He holds out the pretty box for you watching as your fingers traced the box along it. "Figured since you can't get anymore from your Daddy, it would only seem fitting for me to fund my favorite habit of yours."
You pull the bow loose letting it fall around your feet before pushing the lid up to reveal the glass jar inside full of cherry suckers. "Oh Coryo," The smile flickered onto your lips as you stuck your hand inside to pull one loose. He watched you unwrap it, watched you push it into your mouth. "Mhm," You moaned body heat radiating off you as you stepped closer your hand palming his cock through his pants. "Taste almost as good as you."
"Dirty girl." He gritted out as you shoved your hand below his waistband soft fingers wrapping around him. He can't look away from your face as your tongue rolls along the red ball, as you stroke his hard length. "Get on your knees."
You pop off the sucker. "Is this my second gift?"
"Do you deserve a second gift?" He ask hand stroking down your cheek.
"I do Coryo, I've been such a good girl while you were gone." You breath against his lips.
He tugs the sucker loose and shoves it into his own mouth missing the taste of it mixed with your sweet saliva. He sets the box back down as you climb down onto the floor in front of him pulling him out of his pants. You lick the tip, swirling your tongue around him before pushing him in further until he hits the back of your throat, and even then you try to keep forcing him deeper.
His hand is in your hair as he lets your hand pump the rest of him that wont fit inside your hot mouth, tongue flat against the base as he ruts against you. You gaze up at him, tears welling involuntarily as he hits the back of your throat over and over again, and you smile every-time. "Missed sucking my cock that much angel?" You nod, a moan vibrating down his dick. His other hand comes around your face feeling the spilling over spit run down your chin as you sloppily bob your mouth up and down him. He remembers having to finish into a his hand all that time away imagining this, you greedily sucking his cock. He tries to force your head to move slower, to enjoy the feel of your warm mouth wrapped around him, but he struggles as your grip tightened around him, your other hand coming up to cup his balls.
He hisses, fucking your mouth faster, letting you take what he was giving you. He wants himself stuck between your teeth as much as the sweet sugar you consumed. You want it too as you suck in your cheeks sucking him harder. "You want my cum baby girl?"
You come off him for a second mouth wide, tongue outstretched to graze the underside of him, "Always Coryo." It goes straight to his head...and his cock.
His thighs tighten and he is shoving himself back into your mouth, holding you tight against him to spill down your throat as cherry filled saliva slips down his own. "Swallow all of it." He doesn't need to tell you twice as you keep sucking and licking up his twitching cock keeping every last drop inside your mouth to slip down your throat. And even when you come off him you lick the tip clean smirking up at him.
"Even better than I remember." You tell him as he helps you to your feet. His hands come around your face as he kisses you savoring the cum and cherry sugar in your mouth. He licks it off the roof of your mouth, sucks the juice off your tongue before he pulls away letting you press a soft lasting kiss to his lips.
"What are you waiting for?" He whispers fingers tracing your puffy lips. He wants to spill his guts, describe how you roiled inside of them. You only smile up at him like you knew he would carve it all out for you, he would, and it makes him want to strangle you. "Leave him."
You reach up pulling your sucker free from his lips and pushing it back through your own. "I wish it was that easy." Your sigh was answer enough, there was no way to move forward with Felix's ring around your finger.
His hand lands at the base of your neck anger filling him. "I should leave you." He hisses out tired of watching you be with another man when you belonged with him, belonged to him.
"You wanna leave me?" His fingers dig into your jaw as a smug smile plastered onto your lips he wants to slap it off your face, he wants to fuck you unforgivably to regain his power you thought you had stolen when he was sent away, "I fucking dare you."
You know he never could, and he hates you for it, "You want me to murder all of Panem to prove myself to you?"
"Would you?"
Candy scented breaths ease out of you, no fear on your soft features, and he knows his answer immediately. Yes. He would, he'd do a lot worst to keep you looking at him.
"No... Not all." Just one more, is what you don't say. He drops his hand watching as you go to the door. You put one hand on the knob as you threw a wicked grin over your shoulder cherry sucker pushed into your cheek, "Bye Coryo."
It's no surprise after that night you began showing up to 'visit' Felix during his studies at The University. He sees you walking up the set of small stairs, a classy black tweed minidress hugging your body, the white little ribbon bouncing in your hair, candy between your teeth as you walked towards the hall littered with men.
He wished he could grab you, kiss you, fuck you in front of everyone so they know who you belonged to, who got to go home to you every night, who got to hear your pretty little moans. He wanted them to be envious of him, not that idiot Felix. It wasn't fair, and frankly it wasn't right.
You state you're there for Felix, but you never go in the direction his classes are, and you certainly never come when he's free of them. Your eyes fixate on Coriolanus, "Hi Coryo." Your voice slides down his spine like sugared ice as you stop in front of him.
"Can't stay away hmm?" He smirks down at you.
"From you?" You raise an eyebrow toying with the stick of your sucker the pout in your bottom lip. "Never. It was so hard this last year..."
His hand comes around toying with the ribbon in your hair. He tugs it lightly watching your head lean back at the movement. "Always such a slut." Because only you would be so brash about your desire for him, you truly only come here so he can fuck you in the bathroom. The ribbon slides out and into his palm, the collection of them all still stuffed away in his old peacekeeper box. He remembers gripping them between his knuckles when he had to fuck his fist in that disgusting barrack. Your tongue darts out for him, swirling around the tip of your candy, licking up the length of it. "Want my cock in your cunt that badly huh?"
"Come over for dinner," You purr up at him as a hand strokes down his shirt. "Felix works late tonight with his uncle."
He shakes his head at you as you roll the ball across your bottom lip, "Filthy fucking girl, want me to come fuck you while your fiancée is away."
You drag your tongue up the center, "You can fuck me while he's home too."
"You would let me." He watches you nod, "Let me fuck you right here against this wall too?" You gaze up at him not needing to answer, he knows you'd let him. He leans down to whisper in your ear, "Such a fucking whore, well then go on, pull your dress up. I know you're not wearing anything under it." He watches as your eyes darken, fingers actually going to the hem of your dress, and he fights the urge to shove his hand so far between your legs.
Felix calls your name and he finds his hand around your wrist holding you to his side, "Yes darling?"
You watch your fiancée walk towards the two of you worry laced on his face while Coriolanus mouth presses to the shell of your ear, "Stop calling him darling."
He pulls the sucker from your mouth to shove into his own as you smirk sidelong at him, Felix stopping in front of you. "You shouldn't have come." Felix says hand going to your waist, trying to pull you away, peering around the filled hallway, but you stay planted next to Coriolanus. Coriolanus fights the urge to burn his hands where they touch you.
Your eyes glance up to Coriolanus for a fleeting second. "I wanted to see you." He knows your words aren't meant for your fiancée
"It's a busy time. I have to get going." He eyes you, eyes Coriolanus with your sucker in his mouth. "I'll see you at home later."
Home. Coriolanus hates that, that wasn't your home, simply a prison preventing you from living with him. "Okay." You say, but make no effort to move. In fact you lean into Coriolanus's hand as it lands on the small of your back.
"Go home." Felix tries to sound demanding summoning all his strength to keep his eyes on you instead of Coriolanus.
Your smile is sinful, finding delight in whatever dominance Felix had forced himself into. "We were just catching up, you understand don't you." You don't even mention the invitation you had offered, the door you would leave open for him to come inside.
Felix's hand grips your arm yanking you towards him. "We talked about this." Felix tried to say it quietly as if Coriolanus wouldn't hear him, grinding his foot into the floor like a stubborn child. There was no hiding your wandering eye, no hiding how Coriolanus was always on the receiving end of it. Felix was now figuring out how to grow some balls to say something about it, but you didn't care. You never would.
You step forward placing the hand he held on his chest and he knows you wish you could plunge you painted claws through his sternum to rip out his heart. You pat his chest instead looking over your shoulder at Coriolanus, "Bye Coryo." You leave them standing there hips swaying as you walk away.
"Stealing the Plinth fortune wasn't enough for you?" Felix grits out eyes on your ribbon in Coriolanus's hand, your candy between his teeth.
Coriolanus's fingers toy with it watching you leave as he repeated what you told him, "It isn't stealing if it always belonged to you."
He arrived early. He knows the door is unlocked but he is still a gentleman so he knocks on the door to your and Felix's future forever home. He knew you had moved in together after the engagement, had gathered as much when he went to your old home and found it empty. You open the door wide and the air knocks out of his chest. He'll never get over you, he knew that then carted away on that train to 12, he knows that now with the blood staining his hands.
He knows you'd lick it off.
"Hi Coryo." You smile allowing him into your home closing the door behind the two of you. You lock it; he cherished the sound.
He held out the bouquet of white roses he brought, "For you."
You lean forward inhaling as you gaze up at him under dark eyelashes. He often heard Felix bragging about working with his uncle, how beneficial it was, how the position simply suits him. Well Felix could brag all he wanted, it would never do him any good.
Coriolanus looks around taking in your decorated home, the pictures of you and Felix lining the walls. They were hideous, "Where did you mother ever go off to?"
"She was so distraught after Daddy died." You frown, the perfect sadness sketched on your face, as you took the flowers setting them in a pretty vase at the center of the table. "She was overcome with grief."
Your father had died suddenly....unexpectedly.
What a tragic accident.
He remembers your fake tears, he especially remembered comforting you at the small lunch-in your mother had after the funeral, comforting you by fucking you in your parent's bed while guest downstairs mourned your father.
He was hard just thinking about it, thinking about licking those sweet crocodile tears away as he plunged himself into your hot cunt. He wanted to do it again, take you in you martial bed simply to prove a point, to prove the same point he had back then. That you belonged to him.
You sighed turning to look at him leaning back against your large dining table. "I reached out to Dr. Gaul and she was more than happy to help me." He took slow steps towards you your eyes following him until he towered over you. "She found a nice facility to...take care of her."
His hand came up snaking around your neck, thumb stroking your jaw. "You're a piece of work you know that?"
"You play your games," The well hidden wickedness flashes behind your eyes, the woven in manipulation surrounding all you touched. "I play mine."
You let his other hand grab onto your waist. "There are worse games to play."
He leans down to kiss you, your mouth so soft and warm against his, he feels you open, tongue sliding along his. He pulls your body against his, breast pushed onto his chest as his hands hold you tight. He's sick of letting you go. "Do you still want a man angel?"
"I want you," You breath into his open mouth and the hand on your hip slips between your legs.
He groans out at the feel of you, grinding his cock against your body fingers running up your drenched pussy. He wants it all, wants that sweet addiction only you can give him, and it still would never be enough to satiate him. He laid you back, spreading you open like his own personal feast and digs into your cunt.
Your moan reverberates through him as his tongue licks up your center passing over your clit in teasing strokes, nails digging into his scalp. He wants Felix to walk in, to see how Coriolanus could make his put together fiancée come so undone in his own home. And how he'll never get the chance to even try. But he wants to be inside you, so he hopes your stupid soon-to-be husband would stay away a little while longer. You sigh his name, the sound like a psalm, and he thinks he'd still fuck you even if Felix walked in right now.
Coriolanus glides his tongue along your clit two fingers pushing into you as your back arches for him. Then he moves faster, curling his fingers against that soft spot. He knows your close already, knew your body like the back of his hand, he can tell by the tightness in your legs, the pants of air you force out, so he keeps fucking you with his hand, keeps his tongue pressed against your throbbing clit.
He pulls away before you cum.
"Coryo." You whine eyes wild and offended.
Coriolanus simply smirks, "That's for not coming to see me."
His fingers begin moving again, his mouth wrapping around your clit and you relax taking it in, feeling the pleasure he was giving you. Your fingers curl, legs trying to stay spread but they're shaking too much as he brings you closer and closer again. You're right there, he can feel your walls trying to clamp down around him, feel you pushing down against his face to keep him there.
He pulls away again.
"Coriolanus!" You cry out.
He laughs watching you glare down at him. "And that's for being a fucking brat all the time."
You can't retort, can't argue as he spits down on your already soaked cunt, dipping down into you again your eyes squeezing shut the deep groan coming from your throat. He would make you suffer more, but the taste of you always sends him into a frenzy and he can't help but become drunk off your pleasure. His tongue moves side to side in quick motions as his fingers thrust in and out, curled up along your g-spot. It's too much already, too intense from failed orgasms. Every breath is a mewling whimper as you thrust your hips back downward into his face to chase your climax.
He'll play nice with you, as long as you remember who was in power.
"Who's your Daddy now angel?" He smirks against you before wrapping his mouth around your clit.
You scream his name as you come hard against his face, rivers of pleasure dripping down his chin, onto the table and floor. He keeps moving his tongue slowly against you drinking in everything not caring that it's overstimulating as you keep spasming around him, not caring as teeth graze against your clit. His tongue dips inside of you gently thrusting in and out and you're clawing at him for more, and he would, he would fuck you with his tongue, make you cum over and over again just like this, but you tug on his hair.
"Coryo," He loves the break in your voice as you whine for pleasure, how sweet it sounds coming from your devilish tongue. "Fuck me."
Anything for you.
He pulls away and stands up flipping you over, unbuckling his pants. He strokes a hand down your pretty hair, running over the angel cake softness of your bare skin, his hand lands on your hip. He's inside you before you can breath walls enveloping his cock, its so wet he slides in so fucking deep. His hand twist in your hair yanking it back to arch your back as he quickly starts fucking you viciously. You claw at the table moaning into the open air. "You like that hmm?" He drives himself in hard wrapping his hand around your body, slithering it up to your neck. "Like when I fuck you like the whore you are?" You did and you were, just for him. Only ever for him. He squeezes your throat a little enjoy the little gasp you give him before he limits your air supply. He's high off it, high off you, of the power you allow him to take.
You reach a hand back holding onto him as he fucks you brutally, abusing your cervix with every hard hit of his cock, your a mess because of it. He knows you're close again as he lets go listening to you gulp down more air throwing you over your peak and he adores the feeling of you clamping down around him as you do, crying out for him over and over again. He doesn't take long to finally spill himself into you with a hard tug on your hair to push himself deeper, to make sure every drop stays inside. "I hope I get you pregnant." He leans down to kiss the side of your neck.
You lean into his touch as his cock twitches one last time. Neither of you move as he drags his lips over your shoulder gently sinking his teeth in to taste your sweat. He pulls out and tucks himself away allowing you the space to turn around and face him. You just smile and shake your head playfully at him as if you didn't want the same thing.
"Here," Coriolanus digs into his pocket pulling out a small vial. You eye the cloudy liquid knowing what it was; poison. "Just a few drops into his food or water." Your smile drips in sweetness as you take it. "Not tonight, it's too suspicious." He runs a finger through your hair. "Whenever you want to come home to me."
You kiss him as you pocket the vial.
The door opens a few seconds later. "Coriolanus." Felix pauses eyes flitting between the two of you taking in the damning sight.
"Oh Felix look at the beautiful flowers Coryo has brought us." You motion to the fresh vase you had set up at the center of the table.
"What are you doing here?" Felix swallows ignoring you.
You waved him away, "Oh I figured you would be happy to be having dinner with an old friend."
"How long have you been here?" Alone. But he won't ask that.
"A while." He smirks back.
Felix, wising up, finally looks down your body at the fresh trail of cum sliding down your thigh. His eyes hold fear to a situation he has no idea how to control. "I made pie." You disappear into the kitchen leaving the two of them alone to stare at one another. Coriolanus doesn't say anything, simply walks around the table to sit at the head of it, where he belonged. Felix sits across from him when you return as you began to set the food put, finally placing a sweet scented desert near the center. "Cherry...your favorite." Coriolanus finds his palm splayed against your waist, you glance at him as you straightened it, "Darling."
You move taking the seat to the right of Coriolanus foot rubbing up against his. "My favorite is apple." Felix corrects you, hand wrapped around a butter knife.
"Oops." Your smile is saccharine as you blink innocently.
After a tense dinner in which you deferred every veiled accusation shot your way, he knew Felix was far too aware to let it keep happening under his nose. It was only fair he allow the two of you to come see where Dr. Gaul and him worked, to prove his companionship to an old friend, to make up for his impropriety with said friend's future wife.
He never said the two of you had to come at the same time.
He knows the minute you walk through the lab doors, your hair half lightly pulled back with a pretty ribbon, wearing one of your tight skirts and white mock turtle neck, cherry candy in your mouth he would have no more of this arrangement.
No more, no more fiancée, no more hiding his claim on you. No more. He doesn't care if he has to kill all of Panem to keep you, he'll do it gladly. He'd force your hand to use the poison tonight.
You kiss his cheek the scent of you, the sugary taste, pulsed around him, heightening his senses, hardening his cock. You tuck your hand in his arm letting him walk with you. You took everything in like this was a sick version of an art gallery. He showed you around knowing you were only vaguely interested in the various creations held inside their tanks, talked about future plans for future games. He followed next to you, watching you peer into the cages of those muttations, tapping on the glass to watch them squirm. You belonged next to him, you knew that now more than ever. You looked so much better with him than you ever did with that pathetic excuse of a fiancée.
You pointed to the cages filled with black birds.
"Jabberjays." He followed you as you walked towards them. "They can memorize and repeat conversations."
You poked your finger through the bar, awe in your eyes. "This was how you did it." He stared at you as you glanced back at him realizing you knew he had incriminated Sejanus, how he had sent the poor boy to the hanging tree to get back here. In the place he once felt guilt sat validation, the lust in your eyes proving what he had done was right.
"How did you..." He should have suspected you knew, you were too close to the top to not know, too woven into the group of elites, but it still surprised him.
You only smiled as you watched one flare its wings out in alarm as your finger inched closer to it. "I went to Dr. Gaul a month after you left." Your lip pulled back in disgust, "Disgraced myself by begging her to let you return."
Heat ran through him, pounded in his blood as you glanced over at him, "Show me." He needed to see it, hear you say the words you said then.
You pulled your hand away from the birds turning to face him. You took his hands, then slowly you lowered yourself to the floor onto your knees raising your palms in supplication. "Please," You bowed your head. "Please let him come home to me." You never begged for anything, but you had begged for him. He keeps his eyes on you as you slowly looked up at him, his hand comes under your chin. It must have worked. He was set to be sent to District 2, but things had changed and he had come back. You climbed to your feet hands still holding his, "She said she always planned on letting you return, but you need to learn a lesson first." He knew you agreed with her, "And then one day she called me in, played the recording for me, said you were on your way back." Your body pressed into his, his hard cock aching at the friction, your whisper a caress onto his lips. "I came so hard that night imagining it, came so hard knowing my Coryo was clawing his way back to me."
He wants to ask why you didn't come running into his arms when he stepped off the platform, but it made sense why you didn't. You had wanted to see what he would do next, if he would submit to his woes, grovel in his defeat, or would he climb, would he take what was so rightfully his.
"And what would you have done if she hadn't let me return?" He asked needing to know, needing to know you burned for him the same.
Your eyes honed in on his face, "Anything."
"My sweet villain." He strokes a thumb down your cheek. "My darling angel."
"All for you."
He kisses you softly, delicately letting his mouth slide across yours tasting the sweetness you offered like a drug. Your tongue slips through, spit exchanged in unison, swallowing each other, fingers curling around his neck as you pulled him to you.
"Stop." Felix voice cuts across the room. "Enough." You take too long to peel your mouth away from Coriolanus, too long to slyly look at your fiancé. "You're leaving with me. Now."
"She doesn't want to go anywhere with you." Coriolanus sneered.
"Look," Felix sighed, "I have let this go on for far longer than it should have, I knew you didn't want to marry me and you wanted to rebel against that, I figured you'd grow out of this phase once we left the Academy." Your eye twitched, "Enough now, you're going to leave with me, and you'll end this affair before you embarrass us both."
You don't move.
Felix takes a single step forward out of frustration. "Do you even know what I've been protecting you against? He's a murderer, did you know that? He killed a tribute in the games, killed Sejanus too." Well at least he didn't know about Highbottom, or your father. "He'll kill you too, if it came down to it, if you got in his way."
"Right now Felix," Coriolanus glares. "You're the only one in my way."
Something like fear flares for a second as he takes another step forward. "He's using you! I read all his letters he tried to write you asking you to make someone bring him back here." He wants to feel upset you never received his soft hearted words, but maybe it was for the best you never saw that side of him. He glances at your face, a mask of cool indifference, but your eyes quivered for a single moment in wake of the lost news you would never have, and resentment fills your features. You finally began moving forward towards Felix, his demeanor began to relax as you listened but your steps fell silently violent. "I figured if he was sent to 12 he would be far enough away from you, we could finally be happy."
You stilled, "You."
"I had to!" He exclaimed, "He would have never stopped coming after you! I had to tell Highbottom he cheated, had to get him away from you." Everything. It was all Felix's fault, all of it was his fault. Coriolanus's eyes flared wide with unadulterated rage, he wanted to murder Felix with his bare hands, he wanted to tie him down and force him to watch as Coriolanus took you over and over again while he could do nothing but finish in his own pants because that was the type of scum Felix was. but he clenched his jaw, no he didn't want Felix to see you, he didn't want Felix to hear only what Coriolanus could hear, that was a better punishment, to never know what it was like to truly have you, and later tonight he would die with you standing over him.
"You disgust me."
"I was trying to protect you." Felix urged again as his hands came around you. "H-He's a monster."
"I made sure of it." Your smile was laced with venom as your hands wrapped around his forearms. "You always lacked a spine Felix Ravinstill, I knew that the minute your sweaty adolescent hand grabbed mine you were nothing but a weak little boy who had everything handed to him." You sighed, disappointed. "And I wanted a man."
His eyes flickered around your face, behind him water lapped from the wake the eels made in the small circular pool. "He's a liar and a cheat. He will never amount to anything more than that."
"Neither will you." You glanced over at Coriolanus. "Yes." You finally said a weight seeming to move off his chest, "I will marry you."
Felix scoffed hiding the shake of his breath, "You can't be serious. We're already engaged you would be a fool to call this off now. You're a woman with no education, no family, you'll be ruined."
"I am not a woman, I am a god." You took one step back fingers still grazing his forearms and from afar it would have looked affectionate, "I was born to marry the President of Panem, and you know what they say..." You stood in front of him and something in Felix's eyes shifted with realization.
"Snow lands on top."
You pushed watching as his body fell backwards towards the open pool. He was too far away to fall fully in so his back hit cement roughly, something cracking in his spine as one wrapped around his shoulder yanking him the rest of the way in his screams echoing around the room. You stood there watching as they swallowed his body deeper and deeper until he was nothing, then you tugged that ugly ring off your finger tossing it in after him.
He moved around the pool, avoiding the puddles of water made when his body had hit the water, until he's standing in front of you. He admires you for one second, one second to take in the calm look on your face in the wake of murder, the glow that seemed to settle around you as eels swam around your dead fiancée. Then he's moving, connecting your mouth, tongues melding with each other as he sealed his lips around yours finding heaven in your honeyed spit. He was crushing your against him as you twisted your hands into his shirt, pulling it out of his pants as he pushed the hem of your skirt up, needy, insatiable.
"You're a monster." He tells you the very thing he knew himself to be, kissing down your neck.
"And you love me for it." He does, but he'd never let you know that, never give you that kind of power over him.
The two of you are on the ground as he cups your ass, rolling your hip against his hard cock fighting with his pants. He can feel your arousal seeping down to his skin as you unbutton his pants, freeing him from restraint. You stroke him once, twice, three times before you lift up and sink down on-top of him. You slide down excruciatingly slow, letting him stretch and fill every inch of you. He watches your head fall back, your throat bob as the moan breaks loose, until your hips are flush against his.
He's reaching a hand out to go under your shirt and cup your breast as you take a shaky breath. Then you are moving, rolling your hips along him hand gripping at his chest.
"Look at you." He can't help it falling from his lips as he watches you ride him, watches you slide up and down his cock, kneading the flesh of your breast. "My angel."
You were an angel, God's favorite angel.
You would go by a different name now too.
"Mrs. Snow."
You moaned louder as his other hand found your clit between bodies rubbing circles into it as you fucked him faster chasing your own high. He digs his hand into your bra rolling your nipple between his fingers, thrusting his hips up to meet your own hitting the deepest parts of you. Your foot plants on the ground and you tilt forward, nails digging into his shoulders. He knows your close as your sweet breath pants into his face, as your lean down and swallow his mouth with your own whining down his throat.
"Cum for me." He nips at your bottom lip. "Come on, be a good girl and cum on my cock."
He feels you clamp down around him, crying out his name as your orgasm washes over you still moving up and down his hard length in a lazy motion riding yourself out on him. He grips your hips and flips you over pushing your leg up to his shoulder spreading your other knee out to open you up.
He pounds into your wet cunt the lewd slapping sound overtaking the small wake of waves in the pool beside you. You grip his arms as he forces your body against his, thrusting roughly into you as you fall apart within his hands. You claw down his chest, completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you, and his hand finds your throat and you love how harsh he could be with you. You had both changed in your time apart, or maybe there was no point in hiding the darkness after everything you'd done for each other.
"No more games." He hisses out with each brutal snap of his hips. "You're mine now." He hooks his fingers in your bottom jaw opening it wide, and then he spits down your throat. "Fucking say it." He lets his fingers slide off as you leave your lips parted for him to spit into your mouth again moaning for it, for him.
"Yours." You nod fervently lapping up his saliva, arching your back, "I'm yours Coryo." A second orgasm hits you, squeezing around him too tightly. He slams into you one last time before cumming deep, fucking all of it into you letting your legs fall numbly around him. "It was all for you anyways." You whisper once he stills letting him brush stray hair away from your glistening flushed face. "The games...I only played them for you."
He leans down, "Well I guess that makes you a victor too." He kisses you gently feeling your arms wrap around his neck. After a few minutes, he pulls out of you tucking himself back in his pants and helping you to your feet.
You glance down at the calming waters no ounce of remorse there for not taking the quieter route of poison. He thinks a violent end was more fitting too, for all that Felix had put the two of you through. You wave your hand around, "You need to delete the footage." You're moving bending down towards one of the puddles. "Before anyone sees, we'll say he tripped or whatever." You flash a wicked grin, "Another accident darling."
You stick your hand into one of the puddles and splash it onto your face. You stand up and start screaming. "Help! Please!" You wail running towards the door. "Please he fell in! He's dying!" He was dead the second he fell in but you don't let on to that. You shoot him a look, "Go."
He's stands there in awe of you, but what else is new.
Then he's moving heading to the computer to edit the footage of you murdering your fiancée to be with Coriolanus Snow.
You move in a week later after all the funerals and arrangements were made. You came in the cover of darkness keeping a low profile regarding your new life; he didn't blame you for wanting to, best to let the dust settle to avoid looking suspicious.
He watches you in his bed, dawn's sunlight peeking through curtains as you sprawl out under rumpled sheets. You're beautiful, like a fallen angel from the heavens dropped onto his mattress just for him.
His hand runs down your spine feeling the sleepy groan rumble up your back as you turn to look at him. "My whole life all I've ever wanted was to wake up next to you." It's too soft he knows, he'll blame the lack of sleep due to fucking you through the night. He kisses your naked shoulder, fingers tracing the golden necklace that held a small 'C' on it, "I almost lost you."
"You almost did." You agree knowing you had almost turned your back on him, let him slip away to wallow in his mistakes.
"Never again," He mutters into your skin.
"I'll take that ring now." You purred into his ear.
He sits up digging into his bedside table fetching out the ring box, and opening it up for you. He plucks it out to slid onto your finger perfectly, watching you admire it with a certain sweetness he only could associate with you. "Mrs. Snow." He caresses your cheek, "First Lady of Panem."
You smile up at him, "I like the sound of that, Mr. President."
THE END
endnotes: omg hi thank you all so much for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed reading!!! i truly believe all the nice comments on part one gave me performance anxiety about this so hoping it meets everyones standards 😭😭
taglist: @ryswritingrecord , @aoi-targaryen , @urfavnoirette , @sleepysongbirdsings
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus smut#coriolanus x you#coryo x reader#fanfic#coryo snow#coryo smut#president coriolanus snow#dark fanfic#dark fanfiction#hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#smutty fanfiction#daenysthedreamersblog#coryo x you
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Never Shall We Die (3; final)
«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »»
PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader
PLAYLIST: right here!
pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)
SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool?
The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows.
Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.
GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk
WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k
Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k
@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman
masterlist
WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out
[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3
THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons.
But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased.
Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness.
Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart.
Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it.
The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first.
“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear.
“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer.
“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”
“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”
“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!”
“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.
“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”
They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him.
Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants.
But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day.
The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides.
Please be okay.
And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors.
And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure.
The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised.
When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you.
There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water.
“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand.
You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking.
The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds.
“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.”
Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had.
Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space.
He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed.
“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall.
“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”
He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him.
“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it.
His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards.
So much for leaving quietly.
The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity.
He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready.
“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”
Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself.
It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard.
Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing.
Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first.
The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water.
He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to.
“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”
The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now.
Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered.
For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew.
The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck.
The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle.
Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship.
Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck.
“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below.
“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes.
The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible.
There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows.
“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope.
Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”
“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”
So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination.
His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere.
When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck.
What he sees puts his heart in his throat.
You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them.
Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.
He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream.
His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened.
Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out.
Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.
“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up.
“She—”
Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck.
Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk.
The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife.
And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.
WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad.
You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight.
It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was.
It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading.
You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.
It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice.
Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons.
He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.
And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror.
Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment.
He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand.
Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck.
Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck.
Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray.
It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings.
You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless.
Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.
You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”
Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time.
Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.
It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side.
And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand.
Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there.
You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.
But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget.
The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.
The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence.
“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”
“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.”
“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says.
As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live.
Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”
The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger.
Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King.
“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation.
And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign.
Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod.
Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:
“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”
And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below.
THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work.
It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames.
Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water.
Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t.
Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own?
You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father.
He could find his freedom elsewhere.
And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness.
Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing.
THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.
But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to.
The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it.
Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place.
“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.
Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood.
The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits.
When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water.
Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water.
Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat.
All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck.
The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you.
“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”
Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in.
He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash.
Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own.
Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him.
And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it.
Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you.
What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea.
Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you.
He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more.
Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal.
And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.
His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could.
Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms.
With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards.
Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has.
But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything.
He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far.
Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface.
And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious.
“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”
Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them.
Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck.
The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing.
“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose.
“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”
In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue.
“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!”
The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half.
Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off.
Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you.
“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything.
Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly.
Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body.
The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out.
You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily.
“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”
Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship.
“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it.
It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain.
By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies.
“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”
“And…?” he asks in silence.
“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”
“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”
“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision.
Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.
“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”
The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.
To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.
Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious.
IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element.
Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors.
As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things���let alone as Queen.
The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died.
You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights.
Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”
“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”
“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”
Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.
“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say.
Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”
Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.
“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan.
“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”
“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.
“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.”
You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place.
“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks.
“Everything,” you sigh.
“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”
Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”
He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”
“I mean it.”
“Hm?”
“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”
“Who said I didn’t have to?”
“Our deal was done.”
“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”
“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”
His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”
“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”
“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”
“And you are…?”
“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles.
The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for.
That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal.
Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead.
“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”
You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”
He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”
“Tell me.”
“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”
He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”
“How humble,” you hum.
“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”
“Am I a survivor?” you question.
“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”
No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen.
“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”
“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid.
“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”
In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last.
And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another.
Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless.
Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet.
On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time.
Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity.
You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand.
Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment.
Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck.
That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.
“Will you stay with me?”
With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss.
The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now.
IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has.
Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table.
“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”
The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring.
“Your Majesty—”
“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”
Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”
That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after.
“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”
Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”
They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless.
“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.”
In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”
Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies.
“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”
The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men.
Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun.
Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same.
There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back.
Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit.
Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart.
Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted.
He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company.
“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents.
“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms.
“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”
There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed.
He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him.
“Stay. Please.”
True as he has always been, he does.
THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.
And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life.
Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner.
The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night.
Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion.
Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented.
“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone.
“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile.
“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”
Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”
“Disappointed?”
“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”
“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment.
“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.
Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”
“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”
Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”
At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?”
Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”
He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours.
But you don’t.
“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”
With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”
It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”
“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”
Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?
“Are you going to abandon me too?”
His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him.
“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.
“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably.
In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you.
“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”
Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”
“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”
“I don’t want someone! I want you!”
He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly.
“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”
He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.
“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”
Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him.
“I—” he stutters. “The court—”
“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”
You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer.
“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”
Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth.
It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again.
“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”
He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”
For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more.
The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath.
The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back.
“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”
As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face.
“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”
With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight.
BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely.
Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign.
But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own.
Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask.
“Has the Captain approached?”
“No, your Majesty.”
You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.”
Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body.
Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep.
That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss.
Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out.
Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock.
“Your guards mortify me.”
“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”
“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”
Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.
“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”
“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”
It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”
He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”
Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway.
Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it.
If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle.
From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.
He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving.
Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.
With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him.
Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed.
“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”
“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute.
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”
Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”
“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”
He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much.
Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether.
Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing.
By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed.
He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable.
Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound.
You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound.
On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist.
The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air.
Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up.
“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh.
The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard.
“Soonyoung!”
Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced.
Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs.
Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach.
Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.
“What…What’re you doing?”
Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question.
It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—
Ah.
If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him.
Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know.
The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive.
Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten.
“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?”
Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him.
“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”
It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his.
Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly.
The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white.
With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers.
You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.
Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused.
All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were.
You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue.
He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit.
“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder.
When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt.
It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further.
And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system.
It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree.
“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible.
Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were.
Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”
Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath.
“I need words, my love.”
Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”
The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you.
You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him.
You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence.
Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks.
His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling.
Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth.
Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you.
In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before.
Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up.
And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”
He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?”
It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”
You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”
Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear.
“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”
His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions.
The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth.
“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”
Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”
“You weren’t?”
He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”
Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.”
Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.”
You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”
Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”
The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you.
And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you.
“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest.
“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again.
Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before.
“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely.
“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud.
Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own.
But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open.
“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely.
Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay.
He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake.
Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern.
It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—
Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you.
“Oh, Soonyoung.”
Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched.
All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed.
He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure.
One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast.
It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.
And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again.
“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”
You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further.
He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop.
“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”
Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you.
It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made.
He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs.
You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed.
“Hi,” he grins.
“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face.
He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could.
You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth.
“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest.
You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping.
He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face.
“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek.
“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.
“I’d let you, but…”
“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine.
He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”
“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark.
Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart.
“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”
BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens.
It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.
The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace.
Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this.
The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same.
“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”
He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”
“Soonyoung—”
“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”
Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.”
“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name.
“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly.
“I love you.”
“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”
You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.”
It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes.
Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers.
Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers.
He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone.
And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly.
Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”
Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens.
You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow.
You could get used to this. And you will.
THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace.
The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses.
The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer.
And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks.
You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship.
There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow.
His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take.
Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago.
By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.
“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern.
“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom.
It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?”
“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”
His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”
By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you.
“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”
Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.”
There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s.
“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands.
You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port.
“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at.
He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace.
“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”
“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light.
One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder.
He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back.
As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon.
There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend.
For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings.
That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you.
Always.
[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3
#svthub#hoshi fluff#hoshi smut#hoshi angst#hoshi fic#hoshi imagines#hoshi x reader#hoshi#soonyoung smut#soonyoung fluff#soonyoung scenarios#soonyoung imagines#soonyoung x reader#seventeen#soonyoung#seventeen flluff#seventeen smut#seventeen angst#seventeen fic recs#svt#svt smut#svt fluff#svt imagines#svt scenarios#svt x reader#em.writes
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no one has to know what we do
chapter 2 • series masterlist
pairing: Dave York x f!reader
summary: Try as you might, Dave and you can’t stay away from each other.
word count: 4.4k
tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that Dave pulls, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, sooooo many pussy slaps (don’t look at us), pet names, let me know if anything is missing!
a/n: co-written with my love @joelscurls, who unfortunately couldn’t write this entire chapter the way we had originally planned, so you’re stuck with me again. if you notice that some parts are better written than others, those are most likely hers haha <3 this is lowkey my favorite thing that i’ve ever put out, and i hope you like it as much as i do 🤍
follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)
dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍
The phone feels like a paperweight in your hand. It’s late — you should be sleeping, but you know it’s useless to even attempt shutting your eyes. It’s too loud in your head right now — that promise of just one time blaring: a warning. Still, you can’t help but consider ignoring it, texting David and begging to see him again.
It’s probably a bit pathetic, yearning for a man who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you beyond a one night stand. Daydreaming about the timbre of his voice, the stretch of his cock. Getting his phone number from your father, who’s none the wiser. Your father, who is asleep in his own room just down the hall. Being home for the summer has never felt like such a burden.
Guilt eats at you as your fingers hover over the screen, David’s contact front and center. It would be so easy to send him a text right now, let him know you’re thinking about him. About the other night. But your conscience reins you in. Your father’s face flashes behind your eyes — rage and disappointment painting his features scarlet, and you drop the phone beside you on the mattress with a huff.
It’s difficult to even imagine the inevitable severity of his reaction if he ever found out. He’d probably cut you off, the revelation of you whoring around with his friend — and the possibility of this news getting out, tarnishing your family’s pure reputation — more than enough for him to disown you.
You hate him sometimes. Hate the life he’s forced onto you. You’re not even interested in studying law — not really. You never had a choice, though. It was determined before you even graduated high school that you’d follow in your dad’s footsteps. And as long as he’s funding your studies, your future, you have no right to complain. This is the life you should want. The life everyone wants. He reminds you of that fact regularly. Him, and his countless snooty club buddies.
But David — David is refreshing.
He doesn’t come from old money. He doesn’t pinch your cheeks and talk around you rather than to you, declarations of you must be so proud aimed at your father as you stand awkwardly to the side. You’re pretty sure he’s the first person outside of your professors to really look at you, take interest in anything you have to say in… god knows how long.
You can still feel his eyes boring into you. The subtle but tactful brush of his leg against yours under the table. The exhilaration that had thrummed in your veins. He’d made you feel something. You’d almost forgotten you could feel anything apart from stress and agitation. And as you lay in bed, mind swimming with arousal and impending remorse, you fear you may not be able to control yourself much longer, consequences be damned.
He’s not expecting you to reach out.
Why would you? You’d mutually agreed on that night in his car being a one time thing — just a hookup; something he would’ve done before meeting Carol. Something he should probably be doing more often now. Except you’ve somehow sunk your teeth in him, injected him with a sort of venom.
Because all he can think about is seeing you again.
It’s wrong — beyond wrong. You’re so young; still in college, for christ sake. He never met you before the other night, but he’d been stationed overseas with your father when your mother was pregnant with you. He still remembers reading the letters she’d sent in care packages over his shoulder, the ones detailing her symptoms, what foods she was craving.
Strawberries. She always wanted strawberries. Maybe that’s why you’re so sweet.
He’s never been with a woman like you; never had someone trust him with so much vigor. Your needy little pleas, your vehement obedience, your desperation to take all of him in the driver’s seat of his car — you are nothing short of intoxicating.
Still, he tells himself you’re off limits. Trudges through the days that follow with the thought of you bouncing in his lap fogging his head. Struggles to focus at work and recovers in an increasingly poor manner when called on in meetings.
And then, late on a Friday night, you text him.
He only knows it’s you because you tell him so — your full name flashing across the screen followed by an apology for messaging him so late. You say you’re out with friends, and he’d probably have guessed anyway by the typos littering your sentences.
Seconds after the first, another text comes through:
[1:23am] csnt stop thinking about u. pls see me again i promise i won’t twll anyone
Fuck. Fuck.
His muscles tense; his cock twitches in his boxers. And before he does something stupid, like responds, he sets the phone face down on his bedside table. Stalks off to the bathroom with the intention of taking an icy-cold shower, detoxing himself best he can.
He hasn’t even closed the door yet when he hears it ring.
The rhythmic jingle drones through his studio apartment, and he all but leaps at the noise. Sure enough, it's you, calling him drunk in the middle of the night.
His head swims. He presses ‘answer’ anyway.
“David?” Your voice sounds so sugary-sweet, cloying with innocence. He can hear people in the background, maybe your friends, talking about getting another round of drinks.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks first. You tell him yes; say you're waiting on a rideshare.
He exhales. And even though hearing you is making him dizzy with a fucked up sort of desire, echoes of your pleasured sounds ringing in his ears, he manages to maintain composure when you say, “can I please come over?”
“Don't think that's the best idea,” he mutters. The lack of conviction in his words would likely be painfully obvious if you weren't intoxicated. But you are, and you whine through the receiver at his rejection.
Dave fights to ignore the increasing stiffness in his boxers.
“Please,” you beg. Fuck, he loves the way you sound when you beg. “I just got off the phone with my dad…he doesn't want me coming home so drunk; said he's working on a case and I’ll be a nuisance.”
His heart breaks for you. For the girl who just wants a father who loves her, who sees her as a person with feelings. Dave can't imagine ever treating his daughters this way. Would never dream of it.
“C-can I?” your voice sounds through the speaker again — softer, less sure. Like you've prepared yourself already for the blow of him rejecting you too.
“Can't– can’t you stay with one of your friends?”
You sigh, defeated. “I want to stay with you.”
It’s not that he doesn’t want to. God, it would be so easy to say yes. To go and pick you up from the bar himself, bring you back to his place. Help you sober up a bit and fuck you until you can't take it anymore. But he can’t; he shouldn't even be speaking to you right now. He needs to cut this off. Needs to make it clear to you that you can't reach out to him again.
“You– we can’t.” He’s stern, direct. It pains him. “The other night shouldn’t have happened.” True, though he doesn’t regret it. Not one bit.
You’re quiet on the other end of the line for a second too long. When you finally do speak again, your voice breaks.
“You don’t like me?”
He’s going to tell you that of course that’s not it, that he’s been thinking about you constantly, that he wishes he could get you out of his fucking head. But he doesn’t get the chance. Because your friends are laughing boisterously around you, then, sounds growing more and more muffled through the speaker, and you’re telling him rather unceremoniously that you have to go.
The call disconnects with a beep.
You wake the following morning with a dizzying headache, daylight burning a hole between your eyes. With your friend still soundly asleep, you slip out of her room and then her apartment; find yourself home just as your father is getting ready to leave for work.
His travel mug sits on the entrance table as he pulls his shoes on, and you're immediately met with the smells of coffee and his leathery cologne.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” he mutters as he grabs his briefcase. You don't dare look him in the eyes, lest you be met with their disapproving stare.
“Hi,” you reply, small and non confrontational. When he doesn't answer, you continue past him, begin your ascent up the stairs toward your room.
“Not very appropriate for a young professional, going out and getting wasted. Your future employer could've been there. Could've seen you acting like an imbecile.”
Annoyance furls behind your temples; makes the pounding in your head grow tenfold.
“Well then they probably won't be my future employer,” you snip.
“Probably not.”
You hear the front door close behind you and, with an agitated sigh, drag your feet the rest of the way up the stairs. You fall onto the covers of your bed, well aware that you should probably shower, but your body feels too heavy, in no way ready to move again just yet.
When you pull out your phone, ready for some mindless scrolling to numb your thoughts for a while, you’re met with a notification that sends your heart racing.
Have fun last night?
From David, sent five minutes ago.
You hastily scroll up, reading your own texts from last night, full of typos and barely coherent. csnt stop thinking about u. Your head falls back with a groan. You had gone out to forget about him, not to drunkenly confess your feelings to him in the middle of the night.
Now that you’re thinking about it, you also vaguely recall speaking to him. You tap on your call log and sure enough, there’s his name, only minutes after you texted him. You have no idea what you might have said to him, only a blurry memory of being upset about something. Great, this is great.
Sighing deeply, you go back to messages.
i was very drunk. sorry for bothering you
His reply comes almost instantly.
Who said you bothered me?
You’ve only met him once, and yet you can picture his smirk as if you’ve seen it a thousand times.
Dave is sipping his coffee, black, no sugar, and listens to Jim going over his plans for the both of them going golfing next weekend, humming occasionally.
It pains him, looking at the man in front of him, while your voice from last night is still ringing through his head. How hurt you sounded, looking for a place to stay, not being welcome in your own home.
When Jim stands up to leave for work, he remains seated, gesturing towards his half eaten bagel, but assuring the other man that he doesn’t have to wait for him.
You still haven’t left his thoughts. If anything, the longing he feels for you has gotten worse since you told him how much you want to see him again. And he’s so tired of denying himself the one thing he really wants.
He’s patient, chipping away at the bagel until he sees your father’s gray Dodge peel out of the parking lot. And then he gives it another 10 minutes, just to be safe.
Come join me for coffee? I’m downtown at Roasted Beans.
You respond moments later — such an obedient little thing, you are — letting him know you’ll be there shortly. He finishes off his drink, discards the cup along with the bagel wrapper, and orders two fresh coffees.
He sees you before you see him. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly, you look so cute as you scan the cafe. You’re wearing a sundress, the blue fabric dancing around your thighs with every turn of your body, and Dave finds himself entranced by you.
You smile when you finally catch sight of him, your entire face lighting up and he smiles back without a second thought.
You shouldn’t meet him again. You really, really shouldn’t. But the conversation with your father this morning keeps replaying in your head, the disapproval weighing heavy on you, the feeling of being unable to do anything right.
You long for someone to look at you without judgment, for the sound of good girl against your skin. You long for David.
After last night and the fact that he obviously didn’t invite you over, you had thought that for him, maybe it really had been a just one time thing. Like you both had agreed on multiple times.
But then he’d texted you again, asking you to meet him. It’s almost embarrassing, how quickly you got ready, eager to see him again, despite knowing better.
On the drive over, you run through countless discussions in your head, trying to decide what you’re going to say to him. You have to be reasonable. There’s too much at stake. David is a mistake that you wouldn’t be able to come back from. You’re just going to meet him because he asked you to, because that’s the nice thing to do. It’ll just be coffee, nothing more.
Your resolve crumbles as soon as you see him. His eyes are already on you, their expression so full of want that it makes you ache. You walk over, feigning confidence as you slide onto the chair next to his, a quiet greeting on your lips. The deep, smooth sound of his voice when he returns it is enough to make you melt.
He has already ordered for you. It’s a small thing, rationally, but it’s once again more care, more attention than you’re used to. Warmth is spreading through your chest, but you try steeling yourself, forcing out the words that you’ve prepared to say.
“Listen, I want to apologize about last night. I shouldn’t have– I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m sorry for bothering–”
“Hey, sweetheart.” He interrupts your nervous stuttering, his hand gently wrapping around yours on the table. “I already told you that you didn’t bother me. If anything–” He sighs, his grip tightening. “I’m the one who’s sorry, you were looking for somewhere to stay, I shouldn’t have turned you down like that.”
It breaks Dave’s heart, seeing how you’re making yourself smaller, how ready you seem for him to scold you. Your quiet You don’t like me? still echoes in his mind. How your own father didn’t care where his daughter spent the night, as long as she didn’t come home. Didn’t bother him.
He clocked the way your eyes widened in surprise at the coffee that he got you, how you huff a relieved breath when he assures you again that he’s not annoyed with you. You’re so sweet, so deserving of being loved and cared for, and he so desperately wants to be the person who does that for you.
He felt the same pull from that night towards you as soon as he laid eyes on you again, and it’s only gotten worse, now that you’re right next to him, now that he’s touching the soft surface of your hand. He vividly remembers how your skin felt under his fingertips, how you writhed against him.
The urge to get just a taste of that again becomes overwhelming. He holds your gaze as his fingers start gliding over your thighs under the table, inching towards the hem of your dress. Your lips part, the softest whimper escaping your throat at his touch.
He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t be touching you like this, shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. Can’t stop thinking about you. I want to stay with you. How is he supposed to keep away, to stop himself, when you come to him so willingly, so desperate to be wanted?
“David?” Fuck, he loves that you call him that. “Will you take me home with you? Please?”
He can tell that you’re scared to ask, bracing yourself to be rejected again. He’s not nearly as strong as you think he is.
“Yes. Come on.”
He pulls you to your feet and out of the door before either of you have the chance to change your minds.
He’s a bad man, shouldn’t be getting off on having total control over you like this. He’s probably sick; should see that shrink Carol recommended a couple months ago after the divorce was officially finalized. But the way you’re looking at him — with the same big-eyed, doleful stare you’d given him that first night — tells him you want this. Need this, even. You long to relinquish control to someone other than your hawkish father.
So pliant in his lap, limbs all gooey and relaxed under his touch, it’s clear that you trust him. Maybe more than he trusts himself.
You’re spread out on his couch, clothes hastily discarded as soon as the both of you stumbled over the threshold, already entangled in each other. He’s led you to the living room, the thought of fucking you in his bed, of your presence lingering there, your scent permeating his sheets, the last invisible line that he’s determined not to cross.
He has been toying with your body, collected your wrists in a hold over your head and told you to keep them there while he flicked and tugged on your nipples, sucked marks into your skin while you writhed underneath him.
He’s taking it slow, now that you’re here with him, now that he has the time to thoroughly break you down and put you back together again.
You’re already soaked when he sinks a finger into you, your tight walls clenching around him immediately. You coo up at him — a needy little noise that has his resolve disintegrating in seconds flat — and you look relieved when his hand loosely wraps around your throat.
“Please,” you whisper then, and he tuts.
“You want me to take care of you?”
You nod.
“Then you take what I give you. No begging. Do I make myself clear?”
Another noise — this one smaller, stuck in your throat — and he’s pulling his finger out of you again, lips curling into a cruel smile.
He doesn’t give you any time to prepare before the first slap lands on your already-throbbing clit. You can’t help but shriek. In response, he tightens the grip on your throat slightly. Gives three more stinging smacks in quick succession. Dave almost doesn’t notice when your eyes begin to roll back. He does notice, however, when your hips begin to roll upward, your body chasing his hand.
“Oh, such a good girl you are,” he praises.
Slap.
“You love this, don’t you?”
“Mhm,” you moan, garbled and a little breathless.
Slap.
“Pathetic little girl. Bet you could come just from this, you’re so desperate. Couldn’t you?”
You gasp.
Slap.
“Answer me,” Dave demands. “Or I’ll stop.”
It’s almost comical how quickly you sputter the word yes, eyes desperately pleading with him to keep going. And he’s almost shocked just how badly you needed this. In this moment, any guilt he’d been feeling is replaced with the desperate desire to give you exactly what you crave.
He slaps you again, a little harder this time, and you wail. Your legs are trembling, but you make no move to close them, keeping yourself spread wide open and accessible for him.
He’s throbbing, fighting the urge to sink his cock into your tight heat, but he wants, needs to know how far he can push you. How far you’ll go for him.
You’re dripping onto his cushions and he collects some of your slick with his fingers, rubs them against your clit. Your skin is burning under his fingertips. He teases the oversensitive nub with gentle touches, relishes in the way your eyes are glued to his face, the way your lips are trembling as you’re silently pleading with him.
No words are escaping you, and you’re so good, making him so proud with how you’re following his commands.
He slaps your clit again, and again, and again, until you’re a babbling mess, your throat constricting against his grip and your back arching as you come with a cry. Wetness floods out of you and you’re shuddering in his hold, broken whimpers of his name falling from your lips.
He watches with sick fascination, almost unable to believe that he drove you to this point. How much you enjoy being treated like this. That you’re just as twisted as he is.
When you come down, your arms weakly reach for him and he scoops you up, pulls you into his lap until your face is nuzzled into his neck.
“Good girl,” he coos, gently stroking your hair, “you did so good.”
He gives you a few moments to rest, tracing shapes across your back, until his fingers dip deeper, gliding over your ass and between your spread legs, where you’re still so fucking wet.
You squirm under his touch, needy little sounds traveling up to his ears once more. “Please,” you whisper.
One hand grabs into your hair, pulling your head back until he can see your face. You look wrecked. Pupils blown wide, your eyes wet with tears, but what really gets him is the way you look at him. He had worried, for a second, that he might have been too rough, but there’s only pure trust and longing in your eyes.
“I thought I told you no begging.”
You bite your lip, furrow your brow in that adorable way of yours. “I’m sorry. It just– it all feels so good.”
He presses his thumb down on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.
“I know it does, sweetheart. You need more?”
You nod quietly, your eyes wide and pleading.
“Alright then.” He turns you over so quickly that you gasp, scrambling for a second to get your bearings. You’re on all fours, your legs still spread, your ass on display for him.
He had wanted to prepare you a little more, to give you several of his fingers first before he stretches you out on his cock, but he can’t possibly hold back any longer. Judging from the loud moan that you let out, he thinks that you like the sting of him sinking into you unprepared.
It’s even better than he remembers, your slick walls engulfing him so tightly. He starts pounding into you, the depth of his thrusts jolting your body forward and forcing more sounds from you.
He wants you to still feel him tomorrow, wants you to remember him, wants to stake a claim that he knows he doesn’t have. He groans your name, his fingers digging into your hips, greedy for every part of you that he can reach.
Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect, giving yourself to him like this.
“Come on,” he growls, reaching down to find your clit again, rubbing in tight circles. “Give me another one.”
You cry out, pushing back against him. So fucking eager. He lands two quick slaps on your ass and you fall apart, trembling wildly as your walls pulse around him and you scream out his name.
He can’t hold himself back any more and follows you over the edge, pumping into you once more and holding your hips pressed against his.
You both collapse down onto his couch, a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs and quick breaths. You curl your body into his and he presses kisses against your cheeks, your temples, your lips.
Slowly, as he’s coming back to his senses, the guilt settles in.
He lets go of you much too quickly, stands up and starts getting dressed quietly. You watch him for a moment, wracking your mind for something to say, before he looks at you.
“Get dressed. I’ll drive you home.”
He sounds cold, distant. So different from the man who just took you to heights that you didn’t know existed until now. You suppress a shiver and get up hastily. Suddenly, being naked around him feels much too exposed, too vulnerable for your liking.
You pull your dress over your head and slide your shoes back on, but one crucial item is missing.
“Did– did you see my underwear?” you force yourself to ask. He shakes his head, not gracing you with a verbal answer.
Eventually, you give up the search and follow him down the stairs and into his car. The silence grows, until its weight is pressing down, almost suffocating you. You steal glances at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road, staring straight ahead, never wavering. A muscle in his jaw is ticking.
The mix of his spend and yours is pooling between your legs, but it makes you feel dirty now. You force down the lump that’s building in your throat.
When he stops in front of your house, you scramble out of the car without a word. You don’t know what would be worse, if he said goodbye like nothing was wrong or if he remained silent. You don’t want to find out.
It’s late in the evening, you’re lying on your bed, eyelids squeezed shut, willing sleep to finally overtake you. Thoughts keep spiraling through your head, so many questions that you have no answers to.
He asked you to meet up, for fuck’s sake. You don’t understand why he’s treating you like this, but you’re determined to not let it happen again. Just two times, you think with a bitter scoff.
Your phone vibrates on your bedside table, indicating a new message.
[11:55pm] I can’t stop thinking about you either.
Attached is a photo. A photo of a familiar lacy scrap of fabric, grasped in his hand and covered in milky white cum.
It’s filthy, and wrong, and you feel yourself getting obscenely wet at the thought of him touching himself with your missing panties clutched between his fingers.
Maybe just one more time.
thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!
#janas fics#fic: wildest dreams#dave york x reader#dave york#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#dave york fanfiction#dave york smut#dave york x you#dave york x female reader#dave york x f!reader#pedrostories
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Worship You
Pairing: Frank Castle x AFAB Reader
Main Masterlist
GIF Source: Papa-Evershed @papa-evershed
Summary: You’re feeling a little nervous and insecure about your postpartum body, Frank just wants to show you how much he loves you.
Warnings: SMUT/18+ (don’t interact if your age is not in your bio). Mentions of pregnancy, birth, and postpartum AFAB body. New mom insecurities and fears. Lactation kink, oral (F receiving), fingering, protected P in V, use of lube. Pet names (baby, sweetheart, mama)
WC: 2600
*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*
Four and a half months, that’s how long it had been since you’d given birth to the precious angel that was your daughter. It was the best day of your life and changed so many things so quickly.
Particularly, your body. You were so proud of it; growing and carrying a life for 9 months, enduring 14 hours of labor and delivery, producing daily nutrition to feed this tiny human you loved so dearly. You lamented all the times in your youth when you would pick and pull at your skin, over analyzing the ways your body could “improve” and wishing to abide more by the over photoshopped standards you saw in magazines. How foolish you were.
Now you loved your body. She was a warrior. A Goddess.
But still, even with your new found appreciation for her, it was difficult some days to not feel like a stranger in your own skin. You knew pregnancy and birth would bring about irreversible changes to your body. But nothing could have prepared you for the emotional wave of grief and confusion that came with all the new feelings and quirks that come with life after pregnancy.
Which was probably why you had been avoiding having sex.
Sure sex had been uncomfortable towards the end of your pregnancy, you and Frank inventing the most insane positions just to find a comfortable way to do it. Your body had already changed so much then, but even more so now. Would he still love you like he used to? Would the things you used to enjoy still feel good? Would there be any pain?
You’d been cleared at your 8 week postpartum appointment to move forward with all sexual activity, but still had put it off.
Frank, of course, never pushed the issue. In fact he never brought it up at all, too tired and busy doting on your daughter and making sure your recovery went smoothly. Daily, you got to witness the strength and determination he showed to welcome this second chance despite the demons of his past. He was the epitome of a perfect father and partner, which only turned you on and made you love him even more.
“Ithinkweshouldhavesextonight” you finally blurted out one morning, need for intimate connection and relief outweighing the anxiety.
Frank had just gotten your daughter down for a nap and was at the kitchen sink washing out your pumping equipment.
He turned around so casually to face you and leaned against the counter, as if you had just asked him what the weather was. God, did he have to look so sexy when he was just existing?
He looked you up and down and with an eyebrow corked replied softly “Yeah? That somethin’ you’re ready for?”
You were still reeling from the shock of actually saying it out loud and stuttered out “I… I think so.”
Frank nodded calmly.
“Okay.”
And then he was back to his task without another word.
He didn’t bring it up for the rest of the day, going through the evening routine of dinner, diaper changes, and bathtime with your daughter as he normally would.
Meanwhile, your nerves were on edge, half with anxiety, half with anticipation.
The last feeding of the night was done and your daughter drifted to sleep in your arms as you rocked her. You gingerly set her down in her bassinet, careful not to wake her and have to start the whole routine again.
It was typical to find Frank leaning in the door frame of the nursery, happily observing the site of his family. So you weren’t surprised when you turned around and found him standing there with a grin plastered across his face.
“Hey beautiful.”
“Hey big guy.”
“You still feeling up to…” he asked
“Yeah,” You nodded. “C’mon let's go to the bedroom.”
You reached for his hand, but he pulled it away.
“I got somethin’ for you first.”
The bathtub was to the brim with bubbles. Based on the aroma in the air, you could tell it was the good kind you liked to buy at cute little boutiques in Brooklyn and not the Johnson and Johnson brand you used for your daughter’s baths.
Frank pressed his chest to your back and placed a gentle kiss to your crown.
“Gotta get you relaxed first.”
Docile fingers danced under the hem of the shirt you wore; a dingy, grey henley that once belonged to him, as he slowly began to undress you.
You silently cursed at yourself for not putting on something sexier earlier. Not that any of your old lingerie fit you, but anything more put together than this would have been better.
“Where’s that brain of yours goin’ now?”
Goddamnit how could he read you so well?
“Just wishing I put a little more effort in to seducing you.”
“Eh, you know you don’t need nothin’ fancy to do that.”
The kisses he peppered to your now exposed shoulder sent a shiver up your spine as he continued.
“My woman’s so goddamn pretty, it’s been torture keeping my hands to myself.”
Frank’s plan worked wonders as you found yourself emerging from a half-hour in the scented warm water feeling relaxed and floaty.
He was waiting for you in the bedroom, wearing nothing but clean grey sweatpants that rode low to tease and tantalize you. Good to know he still remembered just what you liked.
He eyed you up and down as you walked towards him, closing the gap between you and pulling you flush to him.
A gentle hand ran down your cheek as you lovingly gazed into each other's eyes.
“Okay, here’s how this is gonna go,” he said “I’m gonna go nice and slow,”
You let out a huff, which caused Frank’s eyebrows shoot up.
“And you’re not gonna whine about it.”
“Fine.” you conceded
“If at any point, anything hurts or makes you uncomfortable, even a little, you tell me and we stop. You got that?”
You nodded your head gently, leaning into the hand he still had resting where your jaw and neck meet.
“Atta girl.”
His lips were soft when they met yours, gentle but not hesitant. He took care to guide you backwards and sit you down on the bed gingerly.
It always fascinated you how hands that inflicted so much violence and death could show you such tenderness and love, could provide so much pleasure. Even moreso now seeing how docile he was with your newborn.
The tie of your robe undid easily and the soft fabric fell off your shoulders and pooled in your lap, exposing you to him.
His eyes were full of reverence as he once again stared at you, admiring with a boyish grin before he dove in and covered your skin in the sweetest of kisses. Each meeting of his lips to your shoulders, your neck, your chest was the rising sun of spring, reigniting your body from hibernation.
His nimble fingers gently grabbed at your breast as he continued tracing his lips across you, giving it a small squeeze before twirling your nipple under his thumb.
It was just enough stimulation to release a few small drips of milk, followed by a tiny stream.
You pushed at his shoulder to get him off and attempted to stop the liquid with a bit of your robe.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I thought about pumping before we got started, but I was hoping maybe she had enough before bed that it’d be alright.”
“It’s okay baby.” Frank practically whispered, swiping at the opaque fluid with his thumb.
“They sore?” he asked
“A little.”
“Can I help?”
You practically felt a flood rush between your legs at his request and nodded eagerly.
Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees before you. His breath was hot against your skin as he licked all the way up from your ribcage to your nipple, gathering the warm nectar on his tongue.
He hummed in satisfaction as he took your nipple fully into his mouth. The divine mix of building pleasure and sweet relief filled your body as he began to suckle, soft pouty lips encompassing your breast.
Big hands wrapped around your lower back, pressing indents into your skin with his calloused fingers as he held you close to him, his eyes now squeezed shut as he continued to nurse.
You threw your head back, groaning at the borderline overwhelm of feelings that ripped through your body.
Frank laid you down slowly, upper lips dragging along your skin as he released your breast and began to kiss down, allowing a spurt of milk to fly into the air.
As he moved down, your hands instinctively flew to cover the loose skin of your stomach, still laden with lighter stripes from where your daughter stretched your flesh as she grew in utero.
His thick fingers grabbed at your wrists to stop you.
“No.” he commanded and instinctually you groaned in rebuttal, trying to free your hands from his grip.
“Ain’t no hiding from me baby. C’mon.”
The low roughness of his voice always made you want to obey whatever he requested. You looked at him with pleading eyes.
“Look, I know you’re still gettin used to all of it, but you’re still my woman and I love you. Shit, you’re even more my woman now that you’ve had my kid. You think I ain’t gonna worship every bit of you? This beautiful body that gave me my daughter, that gave me a second chance I don’t deserve. You think I ain’t gonna love every inch of you just as much as before?”
You couldn’t help but grin at his praise and nodded, leaving your hands at your side and permitting him to continue his work.
Done with taking his time, but still a certain gingerness to his movements, he finally kissed his way to between your legs. You were practically squirming with need as he teased his hot breath against your core.
The sweet relief when he finally ran his tongue through your folds had you practically jumping off the mattress with how calico-like your back arched. You were sensitive, having had no stimulation there in months. You hadn’t even dared to touch yourself in any way that wasn’t medically related, afraid to even test the waters.
Once he was satisfied with the amount he slicked up your petals with his tongue, he went back to being slow and careful, experimenting with your limits by tickling your entrance with the tip of his finger.
Another nod from you and he pushed in just to the first knuckle, then the second. All you could do was whimper with the pleasure of finally feeling him again, bucking your hips to encourage him to go further.
He massaged your walls a little before adding a second finger and you were in heaven.
It was so familiar the way he worked you over with his fingers and mouth. More and more of your fears dissipated with every movement, the luminous pleasure building inside took them over.
Your orgasm crashed into you unexpectedly, taking not much at all to get you there. It made you feel normal and human and real again.
Tenderly, he kissed at your thighs as you worked to steady your breathing.
“How you feeling, sweetheart?”
Another nod. Usually it was Frank who was mostly silent and you doing all the talking. But not tonight.
“That good, huh?”
A giggle escaped you.
“Talk to me pretty girl, what you need now?”
“You Frank, wanna feel you inside me.”
“Okay. How? Gotta do whatever’s gonna be most comfortable for you.”
“I think I should be on top. Have the most control that way.”
“You got it.”
Frank rummaged around the nightstand and pulled out a condom and the bottle of lube. He shed his sweatpants and made his way back to you.
Spreading your legs, he applied a generous amount of lube, using his fingers to push it inside you a little. Satisfied with that preparation, he layed down beside you and put the condom on. You tossed your robe to the floor and crawled to him, maneuvering to hover over his length.
He held you in place with one strong hand and ran the back of his finger down your cheek with the other.
“Remember baby, anything hurts, we stop.”
You nodded, then reached down to guide him to your entrance.
It was a delicious stretch as you slowly sank down, relaxing away the last of your fears about pain. It felt good. It felt different. But it felt good.
The sigh of relief once he was fully seated inside you echoed around the room. You sat there for a moment, enjoying the pleasure. It felt like coming home after being away for too long.
You gave a rock of your hips, steady and easy, feeling the drag of his cock against your velvet walls.
Again. And again.
Until you found a comfortable rhythm and lost yourself to the pleasure.
Meanwhile, Frank’s hands continued to explore, reveling in the feel of your skin under his touch after missing it for so long. Observing the way pleasure twisted and contorted on your face as you rode him, he couldn’t take his gaze off of you.
Temptation won him over, he raised his hand to paw at your other breast. Just a few pinches to your tender nipple and the leak began.
Rising to his elbows, he once again took your breast in his mouth. The warmth of his soft lips latching and sucking sent a wave of goosebumps across your skin as you continued to thrust against him.
Carding your fingers through his cropped hair, you held his head to you, encouraging him to continue.
His fingers found the other breast, squeezing so the stream of milk began once more, flowing down the curve of your tit.
“Frank, I’m so close.” you said, punctuated by the slap of skin.
He moved to bury his face between your boobs and kissed your breast bone, husking out “That’s it baby, let me feel you. Atta girl”
Every dial in your body was cranked up to maximum capacity and it wasn’t long before you erupted, white hot pleasure coursing from head to toe as you rhythmically clenched around him.
You grabbed at his shoulders in an attempt to not fall over and he shushed at the whimpers you released with every spasm of your walls.
Frank wasn’t far behind, cradling your face as he pulled you to press your forehead to his.
A grunt escaped him as he thrusted up into you a final time. His gaze bore into yours as he released, attempting to say a million words he couldn’t form right now.
Cautiously, he tipped sideways and laid you down beside him on the bed, pulling you to lay on his glistening chest.
“You feeling good?”
“Yeah, Frank that was perfect.”
“Good baby, I’m glad we…”
But his words were cut off, the siren cry coming from down the hall stopped both of you in your tracks.
You moved to get up but Frank pushed at your shoulder.
“Shh shh shh I got her mama. You stay put.”
You closed your eyes as you listened to him coo her back to sleep from down the hall, content to live in this little bubble of joy forever.
For you @itwasthereaminuteago
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This Week in BL - Taiwan has one show, but that's all they need
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
April 2024 Wk 1
Ongoing Series - Thai
Two Worlds (Thurs IQIYI) ep 4 of 10 - I don’t say this often but I LOVE this love triangle. The longing gazes = chef's kiss. I like that we are finally getting flashbacks to Tai’s side of the love affaire. This show remains highly engaging. So pleased for MaxNat.
Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 5 of 8 - More lesbians! Yay! Meanwhile, when our leads make up they make out! (Yes I’m proud of myself.) I think this might be BLs first rooftop sex scene. We’ve reached new heights, BLabies. (Yes I’m proud of that too.) Anygay, basically a soap opera at this point, I'm not thrilled but I don’t mind.
"Do you apologize for being straight?"
City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - It was lovely. Very well done celebrity leaving the closet ep. Nice ensemble work too. Next week is doom! As expected.
Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 1 of 12 - New main couple for GMMTV in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. It’s fine but overly very pulp feeling for something from GMMTV. I'm a little concerned.
1000 Years Old (Thurs iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - meh.
To Be Continued (Sat C3 Thailand grey) ep 7 of 8 - Never turned up on my usual sites. So will have to wait until next week.
Ongoing Series - Not Thai
Unknown (Taiwan Tues YouTube & Viki) ep 7 of 11 - Qian was, indeed, the one who couldn’t let go. This show is fucking fantastic. It's the best thing I'm watching right now by a mile.
Jazz for Two (Korea Gaga/grey) eps 3-8fin - The bully and the blue-haired drummer side pairing were great. I hated the father. Hated him so much. Our main tsundere seme was a bit too tsundere for me. I was v annoyed by the time he finally softened. I'm amused by all the ways they finagled boys kissin-but-not-kissing in the first half of this show. 2024's "pan around the back of the head" has now become a "dipping of the brolly." We did, however, eventually get an okay kiss.
Honestly?
This was basically what I wanted from Given and didn’t get. So I’m pleased. The music still wasn't great, but you can skip those bits. A solid enemies to lovers BL, where the sins of brothers' past haunts the present. Great optics, decent chemistry, and a tidy script even if tsundere characterization went a bit extreme in some cases. 8/10 RECOMMENDED trigger for suicide
Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 6 - We got the past betrayal in detail and it was decently bad. Bitterness understood. Too soon to live together! The BL U-Haul strikes again. I do like their weird curry passive aggressive argument. This is an interesting show. Do I LOVE it? No. But I think I like it.
On a not-really-related note: adoption, including adult adoption, is actually pretty common in Japan (comparatively). It's often tied to business scionism.
My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 8fin - It all turned out to be a tragic GL in the end. Not BL = not my problem. No rating. I will forget its existence right about… now.
Love is like a Cat (Korea Mon Viki) eps 1-2 of 12 - Okay, weirdly kinky with the head scratching. Not much has happened and I’m not wild about what has.
It's done, ready to binge, but I suck
What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps
It's airing but...
We Are (Weds GMMTV iQIYI) ep 1 of 16 - University ensemble BL featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawinPoon - basically the good kind of messy gay friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is queer. I'm IN but I need my other computer and I'm traveling as usual. So I'll get caught up next week and probably won't regularly be able to watch this one.
Graduation Countdown (Taiwan YouTube) - It's too much for me to keep up with 2 minute verticals, I don't have that kind of TikTok endurance training.
A Secretly Love (Thai Sat WeTV grey) 10 eps - Completed. Worth watching?
Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.
Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) 6 eps - It’s so boring DNFed at 2.
Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Weds iQIYI) 6 - The problem with situational comedy BL is it must be situational, comedic and a BL. This show gets 1 of 3 claims correct. 33% is not a passing grade. Dropped at 3.
In the news
Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari is getting the undeserved honor of Furritsubs. Follow them for details. Tip 'em if you like 'em. (Will I watch it? Oh, probably. Damn it.)
Then Next Prince turned out to be a trailer only. Word on the webs is we will be lucky if we get it this year. It’s BL Princess Diaries. Jimmy has a new pairing (that boy from Night Dream) which is... interesting. All in all, this show does not look good. Pretty but not good.
Next Week Looks Like This:
4/11 Gray Shelter AKA Gray Currents (Korea ????) 4 eps - SooHyuk is only just surviving and reunites with YoonDae, an old friend. They end up living together. One of the leads is played by Choco of Choco Milk Shake.
4/12 Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - Kindly Ryota goes off to uni only to find his new roommate is his childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend and Ryota tries to help him figure out why, they fall in love along the way. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake.
Still to Come in April
4/18 At 25:00, in Alaska AKA 25 Ji, Akasaka de (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - Yuki lands his first starring role in a BL drama alongside superstar Asami (previously his senior at uni). Said superstar suggests they form a sham relationship until filming concludes. As they actually begin to fall in love, the spotlight begins to burn. I think I've seen this before (joke) and also the trailer doesn't inspire confidence.
4/26 My Stand-In (Thai iQIYI) 12 eps - adaptation of Chinese novel "Professional Body Double" by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KP (not a recommendation IMHO - my biggest criticism of that show was the clashing directing styles). This one looks well complicated, lemme try: Joe is a stuntman for famous actor Tong. Joe falls in love with Ming but Ming sees Joe as nothing more than a Tong-replacement. After learning this horrible truth, Joe dies. Joe then wakes up in the body of another man also named Joe. He manages to rebuild the same life as before—with the same people eventually re-meeting Ming. Ming wants Joe back but Joe doesn't understand why. But Ming seems to know what's going on and wants to give him some kind of explanation.
I'm exhausted just trying to describe the plot.
Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous partner) and Best, news here.
Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
NOTE: It looks like one of my personal favorites of last year Unintentional Love Story is getting a spin off!
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
See City of Stars & Unknown.
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire
If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.
#Jazz for Two review#Jazz for Two#this week in BL#BL updates#Two Worlds the series#To Be Continued the series#Deep Night the series#City of Stars#Unknown the series#only boo#Love is Better the Second Time Around#Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto#1000 Years Old#BL series review#upcoming BL#BL news#BL reviews#BL gossip#Thai BL#Japanese BL#live action yaoi#Taiwanese BL#Koren BL#BL starting soon#BL coming soon
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LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE - JOEL MILLER
ft. joel miller x puppy hybrid!reader
a/n: i'm actually very proud of this fic ngl to you guys. been wanting to write for tlou for the LONGEST time and... you know i had to make my debut w joel :3 first time trying to dive into writing more than just smut, so lemme know what you think !! rbs and feedback always appreciated !! thank you @ama-szn for betaing x
cw: 18+ content, brief mention of sarah and guilt, grinding, p in v, creampie, grinding, slight cockwarming, praise, puppy gets used a lot... joel being snappy and a mild asshole at times, tail play???
word count: 4.1k words
Now, Joel isn't always the smartest guy around. He has a tendency to get a little blunt, to put it nicely, and he isn't the type to do charity work. Being nice has never done him any favours, so he sees no point in acting all buddy-buddy just for the hell of it.
In saying that, he's starting to think he has a problem collecting strays. It started with Ellie, and now he's starting to see a habit forming when he comes across you. By all accounts, he should have left you in the corner of that beat up store. You'd been a good enough distraction to the Clickers with your incessant whining that Joel could have snuck by undetected.
Well, like he said, he's got a stray problem — and it's hardly good manners to leave a girl in trouble when he can help out. He aims his pistol, frowns as you flinch at the sounds of the shots as he takes them down. Lucky for the both of you, there's only two of them, but he still uses way more ammo than he'd like.
Joel has to double take when he gets a good look at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he crouches in front of you. He has half a mind to put a bullet through your skull, but something about the way you look has him hesitating. You're a cute enough girl, a little scruffy looking, maybe, but cute nonetheless. That isn't what has him staring at you like you're some kind of exhibit, though.
"You got... are those fuckin' ears, kid?" He tries to keep his voice low, not only 'cause you're shaking so hard you're practically vibrating, but he doesn't want to find out if those Clickers had any buddies nearby. He tenses up slightly when he notices movement behind you, his brows furrowing as he squints to get a closer look. "Don't tell me that's a tail you're hidin' back there."
Your ears perk up slightly at the sound of his voice, your eyes flicking over his face as your whines die down. You lift the tail, showing off the dirt-ridden, matted fur before letting it flop to the floor once again, tilting your head to the side.
"I'll be damned... Now I'm seein' things." Joel is almost sure that you're a hallucination, or maybe he's finally snapped. He reaches out, pokes the tip of your right ear. It's hard for him to stop himself from frowning when the fur is soft and warm underneath his fingertips, the thing twitching under his touch. They sure don't seem fake. He isn't seeing things, you're real and you're sitting right in front of him. "Can you talk, girl? I'm startin' to feel like a crazy old man, here.”
You blink at him slowly for a moment, like you have to think hard about his words. You nod your head softly, your eyes not straying from him. Your voice is quiet when you reply, breathless and shaky. “Y-yeah… I can talk.”
"Well. That's somethin’.” Joel lets out a breath he didn’t realize he'd been holding in. There's a moment of relief that washes over him in a wave. At least he isn't going completely insane, unless he's hallucinating your voice, too. "We gotta get movin', girl. The gunshots would've gotten every infected for miles gatherin' round, we don't have much time before they come sniffin' around here to see what's goin’ on.”
You nod once again, pushing yourself to your feet. He can see your features a little better now, and he tries not to let his eyes linger on that tail of yours for too long.
You don't seem like much of a talker, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. At least you won't go yapping at him when he's gotta concentrate. It wouldn't do either of you any good if he went and got killed because you couldn't keep your trap shut. You're probably the quietest stray he's managed to pick up. Ellie can talk for hours when she gets going, which...is most of the time, if he's being honest. You're more cautious than she ever was, though, watching him carefully as he stands and takes a look around the room to gather supplies.
Joel checks back on you, not missing the way you're shivering. He frowns, taking off his jacket before holding it out to you. "Here, put this on.”
You don't take the jacket, or so much as answer him. His frown deepens, and he lets out a frustrated sigh, pulling the jacker over your shoulders. “It's just a damn jacket. It won't kill ya.”
The way you stare at him is starting to get unnerving, so he turns away from you to continue throwing anything of use into his backpack. Store's already been raided, though, so he seems to be left with the scraps. Just his luck — scraps and strays. All he ever seems to get.
“Thanks.” You end up saying softly after a moment, and when Joel looks back at you again, that little tail is wagging and you're wearing his jacket properly. He catches himself smiling, so he's quick to turn away, grabbing the map from his backpack before zipping it up. He's always had a thing for pretty girls in his clothes, but he's not gonna admit that.
“Don't mention it, kid.”
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
It's been about a week since Joel first saw you, and he's doing his best to keep his distance. You seem to settle in fairly nicely in Jackson — or, at the very lease, you fit in well enough with Ellie. Joel's having more than enough conflicting feelings around you to last a lifetime, and you're just a pup. You're already having to adjust to a new environment, you don't need someone like him confusing things.
That doesn't mean he can't watch you from afar, though. He's not sure he'd be able to stop himself if he tried. He can't help but watch as you and Ellie play together, noting how much brighter and happier you look since that day he saved you. Your tail wags so fast it's a blur behind you, your fur soft and fluffy now that it's been washed and brushed out.
Joel likes you more than he'd care to admit. He's already got enough people to worry about, between Tommy and Ellie, and everyone else in the damn community. He doesn't need to add you to that list.
Problem is, Ellie's gotten to know Joel, and she still hasn't grown out of being a little shit. As soon as she catches him sitting a little ways away from where she's playing with you, she decides it'd be real funny to throw the stick right at him. Joel barely has the time to catch the thing before you're on him, practically tackling in an attempt to get it from him.
“Alright… alright.” His tone comes out a little harsher than intended, and he can't help but feel bad as you shrink back, those fluffy ears pressing down against your head. Your tail stopped wagging, too, and you're giving him that kicked dog look. Makes him feel like a monster.
“Shit, I didn't mean-” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose after he sets the stick down, patting his lap for you to come closer again. He reaches out, scratching the base of one of your ears with a small smile. “You're alright, girl. Just… easy, yeah? No need to jump all over me.”
That seems to placate you enough, and all seems to be forgiven. You nod and lean into his touch, that cute tail of yours picking up tenfold. There's something oddly soothing about petting you, so he decides to indulge you a little, leaning back against the porch railings as he sits on the steps.
It isn't until he notices your droopy eyes and the way you're slowly inching closer to him, practically curled up on his lap, that he realizes the sun is setting, and he wasted most of the day with you. He can't bring himself to mind.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
What is it they say about stray dogs? You feed them once, and they're yours? Joel can't recall, but he's sure he's somehow managed to adopt a little pup with how you cling to him. He tried locking you out of his room one night, and he couldn't sleep with the way you clawed at the door, whining and whimpering to be let in.
You sleep with him now, and he can't say he dislikes the warmth your body brings when he curls up with you every night.
He's got his arm curled around your waist, that fluffy tail of yours resting between his legs and still somehow wagging as he spoons you. He can't help but rub little circles into your stomach with his thumb, his nose pressed against the nape of your neck. For a moment, he finds himself wondering how receptive you'd be if he started kissing the skin there, letting his breath ghost the spot where your baby hairs rest.
That's a dangerous line of thinking, one that he quickly snaps out of. He lets out a sigh, closing his eyes to try and get some rest. You must sense that he's tense, cause you start wriggling around in his arms until you're facing him.
“Joel?” You breathe out, nuzzling his neck with your nose. He can feel your breath on him, and he grits his teeth not to make an audible sound as you lick at him. It's supposed to be a comforting gesture, but it has him squirming for a whole number of reasons.
“I can feel you worryin’, pup. You ain't gotta stress about me.” He murmurs, gripping your hair gently to pull your face away from his neck. He can't focus with your tongue on him like that.
“You look sad.” You whine, pulling against the grip of his hair to keep licking at him. He knows you're just trying to cheer him up, but it's really not helping the way his dick is starting to swell. It's not your fault, you don't know what you're doing to him, but he feels sick letting himself get turned on by your innocent actions.
“Just - go to fuckin’ bed, alright?” He snaps, tugging you away hard enough he knows it probably stung a little. His mouth grows dry, an apology on the tip of his tongue as he watches you retreat, eyes shining with unshed tears.
“C'mon, girl. I didn't mean that, I just…” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, his features etching into a frown. “Look, just… c’mere, alright? I'm sorry.”
He shifts so he's lying on his back, doing his best to make sure you don't press up against him when he's in this state. He holds an arm out, and you come rushing forward, tucking yourself against his side. You really are like a dog, always running back to him. He doesn't like how it makes him feel.
His jaw tenses as he shuts his eyes, trying to block out the guilt festering in him as he feels wet tears against the front of his shirt. He can hear your quiet sniffles, but he has no idea how to comfort you, so he doesn't.
Joel does what he does best — pretends the issue isn't there. He scratches behind your ears until you drift off, but sleep doesn't come for him that night. He spends the rest of his time staring at the ceiling, waiting for the morning sun to come through the widows before he carefully removes himself from your slumbering form.
He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, tucking the covers around your body before he leaves the room. What he needs right now is a cold shower and a little hunting trip with Tommy to keep his mind off of things.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
The first thing he's greeted with after returning from his supply run is a sobbing pup. He didn't expect to see you so worked up — barely giving him enough time to dismount his horse before you were clinging to him, ears pulled back on your head and tail limp as you cried into his chest.
“Hey… hey, now. What's the matter, girl?” He whispers, dropping his bag to the floor so he can hug you back, one hand sliding down your back to scratch the base of your fluffy tail. “C'mon, now. I wasn't gone for that long, was I?”
“You didn't say bye.” Your words are muffled against his chest, that whiny tone still in your voice, but he can see the way your tail starts moving at his touch. Makes him feel a bit better about leaving you so suddenly. “You always say bye…”
“I didn't do it on purpose, sweetheart. You were sleepin’.” He says with a chuckle, unable to hide his amusement as you pressed against him. Felt like you were trying to become a part of him with how desperately you attempted to get closer.
“But… you were gone, and… I didn't know where you went.” You whisper, hands gripping onto his shirt tight enough that the fabric stays wrinkled when you let go in favor of hugging him.
“Doesn't mean I was leavin’ you. Just had to get some supplies.” He replies, even if it's technically a lie. It can never hurt getting some more stuff, but a group only went patrolling the day before he left. He did need the time away from you, to clear his head. He just couldn't let you know that.
“And, hey. I was thinkin’ of you the whole time. I even got you a lil’ somethin’.” He says after a moment, grabbing your shoulders to pry you off of him. He ignores the ache in his heart at your little whine in favor of unzipping his bag, holding something up and squeaking it.
Your eyes light up at the sound, and he really can't help the smile that spreads across his face at the sight. He throws the squeaky ball and watches you chase after it, laughing when you return with it in your mouth, biting down over and over to hear the noise.
“There we are. That's my girl.” He murmurs, ruffling your hair before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, squeezing you against his side. “C'mon, let's go and find Ellie. We got some catchin’ up to do, don't we?”
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
Joel must be getting soft with old age. That's really the only explanation for what's going on. He's letting you sit on him like you're a damn lapdog all because you looked like you wanted a cuddle.
You look so damn cute, too. That tail of yours is going to be the death of him. Joel's heart does not flutter when you smile all prettily at him, nor does it flutter when you rub your face against his neck like you're trying to get his scent all over you.
No. Joel's heart is as cold as ice. He doesn't get warm, fuzzy feelings from cute puppy hybrids, and he certainly doesn't clear his throat to stop himself from saying something unbelievably sappy and embarrassing.
“You comfy there, darlin’? Like havin’ me take care of ya?” He murmurs, not missing the way his breath catches in his throat when you hum in agreement, licking at his skin. You don't seem to notice, so he doesn't mention it. Small mercies.
Maybe it's the whiskey, or maybe it's the way your warmth seeps into him and makes his heart race that has his brain malfunctioning, but he can't stop himself from saying what's been on his mind the past few weeks.
“You're such a pretty girl…” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against your hairline before pressing a gentle kiss there. His hands slide down to your waist, giving you a little squeeze. “So fuckin’ pretty. My pretty pup, ain't ya, sweetheart?”
That tail picks up again and he chuckles, sliding a hand down your back to scratch the base of your tail, tuning in to the steady thump, thump, thump of it slapping against his thighs. He gives your tail a little squeeze, stroking his hand over the fur.
“Ain't no hidin’ how you really feel with a tail like that.” He says with a small laugh, eyes locked onto the way your tail moves as he leans forward, pressing kisses down the side of your throat. He grins against your skin as your tail starts wagging faster, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh.
“Yeah? Y’like that, puppy?” He coos, the hand on your tail shifting to grab your ass, giving the plump flesh a little squeeze. The feeling of it has him groaning, his cock already starting to fill out. It's been a long, long time since he's gotten laid, and he'd be lying if he said he hasn't been having some conflicting feelings surrounding you as of late.
All he gets is a whine in response, your body shifting just a little closer to him. Joel grabs your hips, pushing you down against his lap so he can grind up against you, a grunt spilling past his lips. He glances back at your tail, rutting against you with more force when he sees the steady wag, the sight of it making his cock twitch with interest.
“God. Good fuckin’ girl.” He breathes out, rocking you against him for another minute before it gets too much for him. He can feel you soaking the fabric of your shorts, and he’s starting to get a little dizzy with all the blood in his body rushing south. He’s so hard it hurts, and he can’t help himself as he tugs off your shorts and underwear in one tug, unbuttoning his jeans and yanking his boxers down just enough so he can free his length from the constricting fabric.
You’re so wet he can sink into you in one thrust, holding you steady as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting softly as he takes a moment to catch his bearings. He presses his lips to the skin there, trailing kisses along the column of your throat. You’re so wet and tight and warm, and it's a struggle for Joel not to blow his load early with how much you’re squeezing around him.
”Pretty, pretty girl. You’re doin’ so well.” He murmurs as he starts to thrust up into you, the sounds of your little gasps and moans making his head spin. His grip on your hips tightens so he can guide you up and down his length, helping you move with every drag of his cock. The room fills with slick sounds as he fucks up into you, his head tilting back as he lets out a breathy moan.
He leans forward to kiss you, swallowing your whimpers as he slides his tongue into your mouth. The taste of smoke and whiskey lingers between the two of you, his teeth biting down on your bottom lip to give it a little tug before he pulls away, running his tongue over his teeth. He starts to bounce you on his cock, grunting as your walls flutter around him as he pounds into you. He reaches around to grip your tail, tugging on it to encourage you to keep riding him. His fingers play with the fur there, the upper half of your tail continuing to wag where it’s free from his hold.
”Makin’ such a mess, sweetheart. Soakin’ my jeans.” He huffs, grinding his tip against your sweet spot before he pulls you up by the tail, leaving only the tip of his cock in before yanking you back down with a groan. You’re so wet you’re dripping all down his shaft, soaking his balls and making the fabric bunched up beneath them wet with arousal.
”Gonna make you cum for me, pup. Then I’m gonna fill you up. You want that, girl?” He grits out between thrusts, brows pinching together as he watches you nod eagerly. He has to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning too loudly as his words make your cunt clench around him, trying to milk him dry.
”Alright, alright. I got you, doll.” He lets go of your tail, grabbing your hips to bury himself to the hilt inside of you. He adjusts the both of you a little so he can make you grind against his pelvis while keeping him nice and deep. He rocks your hips, making you grind your clit against his happy trail, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment at the friction the movement brings.
”Shit-“ He hisses as he feels you tensing around him, your orgasm sending him over the edge right after you. His jaw clenches as he shoots ropes of cum deep inside of you, his body slumping against the couch when he’s left spent and twitching inside your needy cunt.
”Just…” He starts after a moment, hands moving to rub up and down your back gently, coaxing you to lean against him. “Stay like this for me, yeah? You did good, pup. Such a good girl.”
He relaxes when you snuggle up to him, his softening cock nestled deep inside of you. There’s something oddly comforting about it, and it’s not long before he’s got his face buried in the crook of your neck, slowly dozing off as he runs his fingers through the fur on your tail. He thinks he could get used to this. He’s really starting to like having you around.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
Joel's gotten into the habit of leaving you with Ellie when he has to go on those long patrols. He's never sure if he's gonna make it back, and there's no one in the world he trusts with you more than Ellie. He knows if something went wrong, the two of you would look after eachother, and that's enough to lessen the gnawing anxiety building in his chest whenever he has to leave.
Last thing he expects to see when he pushes open the door to his room is you and Ellie sleeping all curled up on his bed. It catches him off guard for a moment, but it's not long before a small smile breaks its way onto his face. He brushes some hair out of Ellie's eyes and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, giving you a small scratch behind the ears.
He sneaks his way out of the room, settling himself on the couch. He knows his back’s gonna be protesting the sleeping arrangement, especially after slumming in the past few days on the ground, but he can't find it in himself to care. He curls up awkwardly, letting out a grunt when his too-big frame can't fit fully on the couch.
Despite his discomfort, he feels content for the first time in a long while. He hasn't felt this kind of happiness since Sarah. For once, the thought that he could be happy without her, no matter how much he mourns her, doesn't fill him with dread. The guilt is still there, the thoughts of 'what if', but he lets himself feel them. He knows they're never gonna leave him, and there's no point trying to force them away.
He never wants to forget Sarah, to replace her. There's always gonna be a massive space in his heart that's taken up by her, and there's no one that's gonna change that. But for once, he thinks he's happy with the little family he's got. The strays he's collected. He knows he can honor her memory by doing his best to survive, act like a dad she could've been real proud of.
Joel isn't a very religious man, but he knows he'll see his daughter again, one day. He cries himself to sleep that night, but for once the sobs that rack his body aren't filled with dread. It isn't him giving up, sitting around feeling sorry for himself.
They're tears of exhaustion, yes. But also relief. Hope. He can start again, live his life how he should've been these past few years. Really live, instead of just forcing himself to keep pushing through. Not just for you, but for Ellie. Tommy, too.
His family.
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Fuse
Prompt: Sleepy & Lazy, Daddy Kink from @myaimlessuniverse (x) Thank you so much for sending the prompt in. Sorry its taken so long.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader
Word Count: Approx. 600
Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, praise kink, probably some dd/lg vibes (I don't know! maybe!), p in v sex, Sy POV
Authors Note: Hi... Been a while... Probably not what you expected, but I swear I'm working on the Brotherhood, but I also have quite a few of these left so I thought I'd knock one out as a warm up for the smut I'm trying to write in the Brotherhood (the Brotherhood won't have daddy kink in it fyi) I'm not feeling Daddy kink like I used to and so I tried to write this a little different from what I had done before. Fingers crossed! As always I need to thank my amazing mate and reader @nashibirne , your thoughtful and honest comments are always appreciated. I also need to thank @augustsprincess for her reading and suggestions.
It was edited by me, on the fly, there will be errors
Dividers by me.
Masterlist
Celebration Masterlist
Sy tightens his jaw and he breathes out a ragged curse through his teeth as he slips past your slick, velvet folds and into your silken heat. He watches, enthralled by the utterly carnal vision of himself disappearing inside your impossibly tight core.
“Stop,” you gasp and he peers up at you perched precariously above him.
Your thighs tremble beneath his hands and it takes everything he has to stop himself from grabbing your hips and sliding your blossoming core all the way down his cock.
“You’re doing so well, babygirl,” he says, dropping his gaze back to the explicit view between your legs.
You’ve only taken the tip of him inside yourself and already he feels that tingle brewing in the base of his spine. He’s waited so long for you, longer than he ever thought he’d wait for anyone and he could barely stand it.
“Just a little more, I know you can do it.”
“Daddy,” you whimper. “You’re too big.”
He groans as sweat breaks out over his forehead. “Fuck, baby. You’re killin’ me here.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say, in a voice that quivers as much as your pouty bottom lip.
Sy’s heart breaks and he sits up drawing you to his chest. “Hush. You did so good for me baby. Daddy’s proud of you for tryin’.”
With the tip of his cock still trapped within your snug pussy, he rocks you slowly, murmuring his sweet praise in your ear as he strokes your hair. His thumb caresses your cheek and he smiles when he feels your soft lips against his pad. His cock pulses inside of you as your plush tongue curls around him and you begin to suck. It doesn’t take long for him to feel your quivering body relax against him. He closes his eyes, content as he feels you hum happily within his arms.
He doesn’t really notice at first, he thinks the soft warmth enveloping his cock must be his imagination. Then he hears you moan.
“Babygirl?” he murmurs, softly.
“Hmm?”
He looks at your pretty head resting on his shoulder. You look almost asleep, your eyes seem to have trouble focussing and you’re still sucking hard on his thumb. But then you sigh and nuzzle into his neck while you roll your hips and there’s no doubt about it, you’re slowly sinking lower onto his cock.
“That’s my girl,” he growls into your ear. “That my good fuckin’ girl.”
Sy clenches his jaw to keep himself in check, each moment you rock your hips and take more of him into you is the most exquisite torture he’s ever had.
“Am I doing good, Daddy?” you ask, hesitantly, dropping his thumb from your mouth.
He’s trembling as much as you were earlier. He has no idea how you can’t see how much you’re affecting him, that you can’t see that in this moment he’d give you everything, anything, just for a little bit more of your sweet pussy.
“So good baby,” he groans. “But don’t stop, Daddy needs more.”
He has to lay down, he has to see his thickness stretch you open. He holds your hips firmly, keeping you in place as he falls back to the bed. His mouth falls open as he watches the last of his cock vanish and your bodies completely fuse.
He can’t hold it back, that orgasm that threatened from the start tore through his spine and his hips bucked up from the mattress. His eyes force themselves shut as hot pulses surge through him and even though he can’t see anymore, the image of your bodies finally together is burned into his psyche.
#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fan fiction#captain syverson#captain sy#captain syverson fanfiction#captain syverson fanfic#captain sy x reader#captain sy fanfiction#syverson#captain syverson x reader#syverson x you#syverson x reader
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@jegulus-microfic // march 26 // prompt: transfiguration // words: 1100 // cw: some blood and a minor wound (but it's v cute + fluffy)
“How did this happen again?” Sirius asks as he dabs at the cut along the palm of Regulus’ hand. The cloth stings, despite Sirius’ best attempts to be gentle.
“Just got a strong grip,” Regulus mumbles. His eyes flit around the room, catching on the gaudy red drapery and the mess of clothes scattered on every spare surface.
“Uhu, sure.” Sirius doesn’t look away from what he’s doing, carefully cleaning the wound. “But really?”
It’s not the first time something like this has happened. It has actually been a pretty common occurrence this past year. Summer had done James good and Regulus had a hard time not noticing it.
A few weeks ago, during Transfiguration, Regulus had accidentally made the windows explode when James walked in to drop off a note for professor McGonagall.
He’d sent Regulus a small smile on his way out and it immediately made Regulus' heart trip and the windows burst. James had been so brave about it too, sheltering Regulus’ body with his own to keep any shards from falling on him. He still remembers the warmth of his cloak and the scent of his shampoo.
Not too long after that, James had passed him in the courtyard when he was messing around with Barty and Evan. A cheery call of “Hey, Regulus!” and his spell had slipped out of his control, hitting a few people with a relatively harmless stinging hex.
Today, Regulus had been sitting next to Sirius in the Grand Hall, not aware he was actually in James’ spot. When James slid onto the bench next to him, thighs pressing against each other and the heat of his body seeping though the fabric of is clothes, Regulus had accidentally made the cups of pumpkin juice shatter.
Unfortunately, he had been holding his own, which is why he is currently perched on the edge of Sirius’ bed as Sirius tries to heal the small cut on the palm of his hand.
“I keep…” Regulus puffs up his cheeks, considering his words. “I keep messing things up. When J— this guy walks into the room.”
“You have a crush?” Sirius asks, finally looking up from the task at hand to meet Regulus’ eye.
“Don’t say it out loud,” he hisses. Regulus has to resist the urge to clap his hand over Sirius’ mouth, never mind the fact that they’re alone in his dorm right now.
“Why?”
“It’s embarrassing!”
“It’s not embarrassing! I think it’s sweet! My little brother, all grown up.”
Sirius sounds fond. Proud. Warmth sparks behind Regulus’ ribs.
“M not little,” he huffs, but it lacks any real heat. He knows he’ll always be Sirius’ little brother.
Good thing it’s his favorite thing about himself.
The blood has been cleared away enough for Sirius to see the cut. It’s not deep, thankfully, so a simple mending spell should do the trick.
The feeling of the spell is pleasant on his skin, like dipping his hand into warm water, relief rushing over him.
As luck would have it, James chooses that exact moment to walk into the room. Regulus counts to ten in his head, an attempt to quell the magic that is coursing through his veins and desperate to burst from his fingertips.
James looks handsome like this, hair a bit messy from where he has been running his hand through it, glasses low on his nose. Regulus itches to push it back into place. His tie is a bit too loose to be acceptable, but he seems to get away with it every time. The golden details of his uniform compliment the hazel of his eyes and Regulus is at risk of swimming in them if he doesn’t look away.
“Reg, hey, are you okay?” He sounds breathless, like he ran up the stairs to get here. Regulus tries not to get his hopes up.
He coughs, just to make sure his voice is still there. “Yeah, just a cut. Sirius is fixing it.”
Neither Sirius nor Regulus mentions that they are used to patching each other up. More familiar with each other’s healing magic than they’d like to admit. They had spent long nights with books they’d borrowed from the Black family library, learning simple healing spells.
“Why not go see Pomfrey?”
Regulus ignores the indignant hey from Sirius and says, “She had her hands full already. But it’s fine. Sirius can—”
“Here, let me,” James says, nudging Sirius out of the way.
Sirius is about to protest when he catches sight of Regulus’ face, a slow blush crawling up his neck and blooming on his cheeks. Understanding sparks in Sirius’ eyes and a shit-eating grin forms on his face.
“Yeah, Prongs can take care of this. I have to head out anyway.”
Regulus tries to communicate to Sirius that he should absolutely not leave or Regulus might end up accidentally setting his bed on fire. Or on purpose. He’s not sure yet. But Sirius elects to ignore his warnings and shuts the door behind him with a wink.
James’ hands are warm. His palms are calloused from all those hours practicing Quidditch, but no less gentle in their prodding.
“Strong grip, huh?” James murmurs as he pokes at the tender skin on Regulus’ hand. There isn’t much to mend anymore, Sirius was basically done, but neither of them mentions it.
“Yeah, apparently.”
Regulus is thankful his voice doesn’t crack, but the heat in his face is persistent, straying up to the tips of his ears.
“Mh, maybe you should try out for the Slythering Quidditch team. I’d like to have some real competition on the pitch.”
“Maybe.”
“Then again, maybe you’ll be distracted enough to let me sneak by, or to set your team’s brooms on fire.”
Red blooms in Regulus’ face, almost brighter than the red on the walls. His embarrassment is short-lived though, because James is laughing fondly, hands still cradling Regulus’ own.
“You did it on purpose!” He accuses.
“Not on purpose, per se. I just wanted to test a theory,” he muses. A thumb strokes over the back of Regulus’ hand and goosebumps erupt on his skin. James hums, content. “I’m sorry, though. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
Regulus huffs in annoyance, but it’s a show and they both know it.
“I really am sorry,” James says again, ducking his head so he can meet Regulus’ eye. One of his hands comes up to push a dark curl away from Regulus’ forehead. Then, it settles on the side of his face. In the quiet space between them, he murmurs “Let me kiss it better.”
#regulus has an obvious crush and accidental magic#a recipe for disaster#regulus black#james potter#jegulus#jegulus microfic#mil's microfics#mil's writing
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Crude Timeline/Breakdown of my goofy Cult of the Lamb drawings if you’re interested:
The whole premise for this i guess au? Started during my first run, I already knew the game was about kill god become god, but Did Not know you could Marry the god youd betray??? Or indoctrinate him???. Like I didn't even choose the Marriage Doctrine cuz I'm like boo r u kidding me I'm choosing violent Battle Pit always. Which Lambert wouldn't know any of this in the beginning either but the big deciding factor is:
Lamb is going into it with the mindset of Kill All Gods for what they've done to the sheep (sorry my benefactor, ur included <3) Kratos style lets go, none spared.
That being said, they have a lot of devotion towards Death, I like to think the Sheep folk prayed to The One Below for quick passings knowing they're a huge sacrificial species, and because sheep with their huge herd mentality, the worship flowed heavily which is a threat therefore that plus prophecy equals Slaughter.
So with TOWW, they play along and genuinely mean they're serving death because they worshiped Death as a concept, a divine entity. They believe when they “kill” TOWW they'll still be “together” because Death is unkillable right (and the lamb would never have to be alone again right). Something new will be written thats the both of us as one.
So in between crusading Lamb and TOWW get closer (i am going to take your throne but that doesn't mean we can't have fun banter or that i don't really really enjoy ur compliments and attention ((because I love kittys…))) and that's when the comic about tanking happens.
But oh no! Through their journey Lamb discovers that TOWW is actually a Bishop, chained for a petty family squabble??? Has a name and it’s Narinder????
The revelation kinda breaks something in their head. it upsettingly humanizes the Bishops, trivializes the death of their people, and takes TOWW off the pedestal they'd placed him on. Uh ohhhh how does this change things i mean I'm still gonna kill all the gods but what does it mean to be a god is it just a crown whats going to happen to Narinder is it actually Narinder I like ?? (And i had a comic for this time planned but idk if ill get to it)
Meanwhile Narinders opinion on the Lamb has so far just been Wow im so proud, I chose good yay I'm gonna be free (why do I feel like I could be free from their devotion alone?) (why are they just like me fr?)
When Narinder is defeated and they have the choice, the lamb feels they betray both their people for not keeping their promise to kill all gods, but also their Faith and Narinder, v conflicting.
After indoctrination, Narinder does his typical Isolation, depression, and Lamb mourns what they'd had. In their loneliness, they stop allowing their cultists to die for long. They do all Narinders quests, and when it comes to the resurrection he's like Haha I remember why I liked you. But also he can exploit this. That's the time of the Resurrection comic.
He tries to micromanage from there, if he can't be the god being worshiped rn he's going to control the god. Starts off with whispering insecurities of Your cultists will find a way to leave you, be firmer. Gods should do this, have this, they'll leave if you don't. Lamb knows what he's doing and mostly humors him to keep him around but over time they've just both started to build a proper relationship again. He successfully ironically becomes their right hand.
This goes on for a sec before Mystic Seller knocks on da door like Hello do your joobbbb. And thats a kick enough to get Lamb out of their misery shit to really consider their original plan of killing gods and what exactly they want Death to Mean. (Comes to a conclusion that death is a peace that has to be earned. Through living.)
Bringing Leshy back brings a rift and arguments between Narinder and Lamb. That's when the Narinder Confessional comic happens and he lets out just how hurt he was by Lambs betrayal (cuz that seems to be all anyone ever does to him lol except for his sons)
So as a sort of reconciliation! Lamb brings back Aym and Baal. Yay! That's that comic, where Narinder tries to say it doesn't affect him so Lamb forces them to be together. Aym and Ball stay in the cult for a good while as Lamb works to free Heket, but Narinder is still super giving Lamb the cold shoulder. When Heket is indoctrinated Narinder gets angry again that he has no say on the matter.
Lamb starts sneaking off to sit in the confessional booth at night and it gets Narinders attention. He follows them in and hears them speak about essentially their motivations and beliefs described earlier. I have a half finished comic of this to partner with Narinder’s confessional, with Lamb’s being more down to earth and kinda just explanatory of the whole timeline but who knows if ill finish it tbh
Narinder reassesses his feelings for Lamb after that.
Right after Lamb's confessional would be when the Baal and AYm comic happens, and Narinder asks for his last request of going on a mission, fully committing to living a life.
Cue big ambiguous gap of time where Lamb gets the other siblings, yada yada healing and dealing. Shamura in the pillory comic happens, the bishops are Not happy about it, but Shamura's only locked up for a night.
Probably takes a hundred or two years for the siblings being comfortable enough around each other and theres a lot less venom being spat out. Idk gods grudges be lasting forever sometimes. Eventually They can start having family game nights, cue that comic. Everyones tired of the shit Lamb and Narinders got going on.
Lamb still thinks Narinder doesnt have romantic feelings for them. Best friends til the end me and my god, never mind the tense flirting. Lamb does that with everyone. (cursed with flirty asexual disease) For Narinder its that he shouldnt have to say anything everyone should just know that the Lamb is his. Straight up if Lamb asked him, do you love me hed say yes in every sense, but though he is aware of how he feels and would be honest on approach, an immortal relationship/marriage?? It is a lot to ask of the lamb, that has to be a decision they make. Hes content as is.
but No Way could Lamb ask that without a safety net. So when Lamb realizes Oh its like. romantic jealousy? Interesting lets see how far i can push it, announces they will be choosing a spouse (due to a wager lost they reason, depending on who asks) (the siblings who know of Shamura’s deal, watch in mild amusement at how absolutely wired this gets their brother. No one helps him.) fine for narinder If they get married thats up to them but hes gonna make sure theyre worthy of his vessel first. Marriage is just a title compared to what he and the Lamb have.
Cue comic i have planned that is Such a funny idea to me but im not liking how its turning out so who knows. But they get married yay!
Some years later kudaai has offered to make the lamb their own weapon. They go on a little trip to the spot they were sacrificed, now very overgrown and forgotten, and find their chains to make their weapons.
far future comic
many many many years later Lamb death comic.
that’s it for now. I’ll add more if ideas come but this is context if you’d like. Feel free to ask questions, I’m rotating these fellas in my head
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HEAVEN KNOWS I AIN'T GETTING OVER YOU || Joakim Karlsson x fem!Reader
picture found on pinterest
PAIRING: ex-husband!Jolly x fem!reader
SUMMARY: When Jolly visits you unannounced on a Tuesday night, you have no idea what it leads to.
WARNINGS: SMUT [oral sex, female receiving; unprotected p in v], possessive!jolly, ANGST, jolly and reader have a daughter together (y/d/n), MDNI, 18+
TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @jilliemiw86 @justeli6 (If you wanna be added to the story's taglist or to my taglist in general, leave a comment or message me privately!)
A/N: i wrote this in one sitting and i'm so proud of it that i can't hide it for one second longer. i hope you like it! also this isn't proofread, im very sorry ._.
MASTERLIST
[y/d/n = your daughter’s name]
You thought the hardest thing you had ever done in your entire life was the process of deciding to file for divorce from your ex-husband Jolly, but he had proven you wrong. It was that he had signed the papers without an argument or fight. He had just done it.
It had stung, how he came back from a long tour, saw the papers laying on the kitchen counter and just signed them. It hurt but you also knew it was for the best. That he didn’t fight with you was hard, but it also made it in some ironic way easier.
Since you had a daughter together, he came over only on the weekends when he was home from touring and normally, he’d only pick up your daughter and leave again; not really much conversation going on between you except the necessary small talk. He was a good father and human after all, and you were glad for that.
After some time, routine came back and somewhat everything began to feel normal again. You began to date again, and Jolly seemed to live his life to the fullest. You were happy for him.
That changed when your doorbell rang on a Tuesday evening. You were sitting on the couch watching TV when you heard the sound and for the first couple of seconds you thought about not opening the door. After all, it was almost 8 PM and you were kind of scared there would be someone trying to break in or hurt you, but when it rang again you became curious.
“Joakim?” You asked surprised when you saw him standing there.
“Is it true?” He just asked and looked you dead in the eye.
“What?” You answered him confused. He looked like he hadn’t slept properly since he brought back your daughter two days ago.
“On the weekend, y/d/n said you were seeing someone.” He asked, his tone careful, yet you could sense some sort of hurt in his voice.
“Do you maybe wanna come in before you confront me about stuff that hasn’t got anything to do with you?” You grumbled at him in a sarcastic tone, which he ignored while stepping into the place you once called home together.
He walked into the living room, followed by you. There he crossed his arms in front of your chest and looked at you, disappointed.
“What do you want to here, Joakim? I don’t remember that we agreed to be abstinent for the rest of our lives.” You snarled at him and mirrored is gesture.
“Don’t you think it still hurts that I hear that from our daughter instead of you?” He responded in the same tone.
“I don’t know why you suddenly seemed to care.” You grumbled. “Since you didn’t show any interest in me for… how long is it now? One and a half years?”
“You didn’t even let me explain myself and threw the divorce papers at me. How do you think I feel?” He angrily expressed.
“I don’t even need to tell you this, but there is no other guy. I went on two dates. TWO dates, Jolly.” You answered him while ignoring how his statement stung. You knew it had been egoistic of you, but the months before the divorce, he either wasn’t at home or when he was, he didn’t even look at you. You felt unimportant, unloved, neglected. And now he was throwing around these statements. You wished he had done it earlier. You wished he would have opened up to you. The fact that he only did it because he saw the potential danger of another person in your life, hurt you so much.
Jolly took a deep breath. “I feel like we never even talked about this whole separation.”
“You were the one who didn’t ask when I handed you the papers, Joakim.” You said, your tone a lot calmer than it had been before but you still were angry. You were glad that your daughter was having a sleepover at a friend's house that night, otherwise she would have already been downstairs.
When Jolly didn’t say anything for another solid minute, you sighed.
“Don’t you think it is a bit too late to talk now?” You mumbled defeated and ran a hand through your hair. “I hope you know that I didn’t do that to hurt you. We both know it would have ended way uglier if we dragged it out longer than it already had been.”
You saw how Jolly swallowed hard.
“You know I still love you?” He almost whispered and let his hands fall to his sides. When you looked at him like that, he almost looked broken… defeated. For the first time since what felt like ages, you felt like he let his guard down. Like he wasn’t trying to hide his feelings away.
“I know, Jolly.” You answered him. “And I also know that a part of me still loves you and always will, but we both know that this isn’t going to work. At least not like this.”
He slowly took a step towards you, carefully watching your reaction. When you didn’t look reluctant or took a step back, he reached for your hand and grabbed it.
“I am so sorry that all of this happened. I thought about everything that had happened. Long before the divorce. I know how cruel I was to leave you in the dark. To not talk to you when I needed nothing but your comfort. I thought that I would get through everything by myself.” He told you with honesty in his voice.
“You didn’t have to go through everything alone. That is what a marriage is for, Jolly. I would have been more than happy to help you. I still am if you need me.” You whispered out and looked into the eyes of the man you had and still loved so dearly, and you felt how your heart hurt.
“I always need you, y/n. I need you so bad.” Jolly responded and you saw how his eyes became glossy. Without even thinking you wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him tightly. You felt how tears started to form in your eyes and it broke your heart when you heard him sniffle for a second.
When you leaned back to look at him, there was this foolish hope in your heart. The hope that you would be able to find back to each other. But your brain knew, even if you did eventually manage to do that, now was not the right time for it.
“Can I kiss you?” Jolly asked and you felt warmth form in your stomach. You knew you should have said no. You knew you should have been strong, but you still nodded.
Your lips met with a ferocity born from years of unspoken words and yearning. The taste of his mouth a bittersweet reminder of everything you had lost.
It felt like you kissed for an eternity and still, when you pulled away, it felt like it wasn’t long enough. You missed him. You missed everything about him, from his small jokes to the way it felt when you fell asleep next to him. He was what made this house a home.
“We shouldn’t.” You whispered against his lips, and he nodded. Before he could even think about letting you go, you pressed your lips against his for a second kiss. This one being much more eager than the previous one.
Slowly but surely, you stumbled towards the couch and soon you were laying under him, lips still connected as if life depended on it. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss.
It didn’t take long until his fingers curled into the waistband of your shorts and panties. For a second, he leaned back to look for consent in your eyes. When you eagerly nodded, he tugged them down your legs.
He kissed you deeply before lowering himself down your body. You shivered when you felt his breath against your core and not even a second later you felt his warm tongue sliding through your folds. He drew skillful circles around your clit. A wave of warmth washed over you as you moaned out his name and it felt so wrong and so right at the same time. You had missed him so much.
Your hand reached for his and he was quick to intertwine your fingers. Your nails pressed into the skin on his hand as your back arched in pleasure.
“Tell me you’re mine.” He pleaded as he raised his head for a second to look at you through his lashed and you felt like you could come on the spot.
“I’m yours, Joakim. I always will be.” You whimpered out and it was all he needed to hear as his head lowered again.
It didn’t take long for you to feel the waves of your orgasm washing over you, as you screamed out his name. Your vision blurred for a second as you came on his tongue. He kissed the inside of your thighs until you slowly came down from your high, before he came up to look at you again.
You grabbed his face and kissed him with such force, he feared to collapsed right on the spot. You could taste yourself on his tongue and the feeling of the fabric of his jeans against your naked cunt made you shiver in overstimulation.
In a swift motion, he turned you on your stomach and you heard how he unzipped his pants. The next thing you felt was hot kisses pressed to the back of your neck and you sighed in need. You needed to feel him, even if it was the last time.
“Do you have a condom?” He groaned into your ear.
“You don’t need one, Joakim. I’m clean and on the pill.” – “Got it.”
You clenched your fists into the fabric of the couch as you felt him enter you. A delicate burn formed inside of you as he stretched your walls. He was gentle but still you let out a small yelp as he bottomed out in one stroke. The small groan that escaped from Jolly’s lips, let you clench around him for a moment.
“God.” He moaned. “I wish I could stay inside of you forever.”
You moaned as a response.
“I’ll make you mine, even if it’s the last time.” He groaned as he slung an arm around your torso, making you slightly sit on him as he thrusted into you.
“I’ll be yours.” You whimpered and reached behind you to grab onto his hair. You moved in a rhythm as you felt the knot tighten in your stomach for a second time. One of Jolly’s hands travelled between your thighs and began to rub small circles on your wet clit.
“God, Jolly. I’m gonna come.” You almost screamed out.
“I’ve got you.” He breathed out as you felt the intense sensation of your second orgasm rolling over you. You felt how your body slowly lost strength, but you held yourself together for him.
You fell forward, leaning on your elbows as his hands grabbed your hips. Shortly after that you felt how he was twitching inside of you and he let out a loud groan as he finished inside of you, his cum filling you up until it began to drip. He grabbed the armrest of the couch in front of you to not let his weight drop on you as he mumbled out small love confessions.
For a couple of moments, neither of you dared to move. He peppered your shoulder with small kisses while you both tried to tame your breaths. Even though, you both didn’t want to, he eventually pulled out of you and got up, as you slowly laid down on your back.
After a minute or so he reappeared with a washcloth and gently cleaned you up, before helping you up from the couch and to the bathroom to go to the toilet.
After you finished and came back to the living room, he handed you your clothes and you both got fully dressed again, before looking at each other in awkward silence.
You knew what he was going to say, before he could even finish.
“Maybe, I should-…” – “Stay.”
He blinked a couple of times as his eyes lit up.
“Y/d/n isn’t coming back until tomorrow after school. You can stay.” You almost whispered and hoped he wouldn’t leave you in that state. “I want you to stay.”
“Okay.” He muttered and nodded slightly. “I will.”
As the two of you sat down on the couch, a wave of guilt washed over you. This was a forbidden taste of the past that only solidified the painful truth. You were bound by a love that could never be, at least not now…
dividers by @saradika-graphics
#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fanfic#bad omens fic#bad omens rpf#jolly karlsson smut#joakim jolly karlsson fanfic#jolly karlsson fic#jolly karlsson x reader#bad omens smut#smut#collapsedglasshouseswrites
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Silver Lining
18+. MDNI
Terzo x F! Reader. bj, p in v, dirty talk, the big o, messy aftermath.
Terzo’s legs curl around your shoulders, heels digging into your back. His forehead is slick with sweat, black hair pushed back and wet from the shower you so deviously interrupted in your endeavor to have him below you.
You lie pretty between his legs, eyes closed and focused as you take his cock deeply into your mouth. You pull back ever so slowly, running your tongue along the shaft until your lips wrap around and suck at the tip, swallowing that perfect bead of cum which pearls at his slit. You pull away, to the frustration of your lover by the way his thighs tighten around your head, and you watch in fascination as another drop forms and descends. You follow its path with your tongue, licking a long stripe up his cock and back to the head. Terzo’s hips jump and he growls, a sound deep in his throat. His fingers rope through your hair and tugs, urging you to keep sucking him as you were before - deep and unyielding.
He keeps a hold of you, guiding your bobbing head. “Look at you,” he coos, his voice breathless and deep. “That mouth has never looked better than impaled on my cock.”
You moan softly, the vibration ripping a hiss from him, and he grins, pushing his hips upward to nearly choke you with the length of him. You sputter and pull back, and Terzo sits up, encasing your head with his hands and urging your face into his lap. “You have no idea how deeply I will fuck you,” he whispers, sliding a hand down the length of your back as you set your own pace once more. “You love your Papa, hm? Si, I know. Ah, fuck, keep going. I know. The only one. You would have been Mama. You should have been. Mmmf. Yes, amore. Let them gnash their teeth in fury when they see you in my colors.”
You pull away and try to sit up, but Terzo’s hands hold you fast. “Terzo,” you try, your voice thick with concern. He chuckles softly, brushing your hair from your face, and grasping your chin to press a kiss to your lips.
“You know I am a talker, eh? It is okay,” he says. You push upward and he allows it this time, his hands falling to your arms when you face him, slowly sliding them up and down. His heavy cock juts upward between you, slick with spit and cum, and momentarily forgotten.
“I loved you then, and I love you now, and I will love you forever and ever and even after,” you whisper to him, your gaze unwavering from the mismatched gaze which looked almost glassy with memory. There would be time to talk, time to unpack what the Clergy has done, but in this moment…in this moment the only thing you want to do is love him.
Terzo’s gaze clears and he smiles very gently, his fingers brushing against your cheek. He draws you in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and then your nose, and finally your lips. “Va bene, patata. Ti amo.” Terzo grabs at your waist, urging you forward. “Now come here.”
You slip into his lap and his hand grips beneath your thigh, lifting you in order to drag his cockhead back and forth between your slick folds. The sensation makes you both groan. “Soaked,” Terzo huffs, sounding pleased, proud. His cock finds your entrance and you make a noise, startled and needy all at once, and Terzo kneads your ass cheek with his other hand, reaching lower to spread you and accommodate the stretch.
His cock draws deeper, dragging against your walls, licking them with fire that shoots straight into your lower belly, urging a high pitched keen from your lips. He bottoms out in one swift movement that takes your breath away and you sit still against him for a moment, face buried in the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you in a deep embrace, cradling you against his chest, his lips dotting kisses to your cheek, or any part of your skin he can reach.
“That is my girl,” he whispers his devotion. “You did it. Took it so well. You always do.” He adjusts you with careful movements, his cock encased in your heat, and you feel him jerk, hips stuttering, the smallest thrust driving the two of you to madness. Your hands grip his shoulders, and his hands grip your waist, and you begin to rock.
You’re not entirely sure who’s doing the most movement, in perfect synchronicity with one another as his cock claims your swollen pussy, the slick back and forth a delicious symphony of sex. Terzo doesn’t hold back with you, he never has, curses and moans, frantic gasps and whimpers falling from him at a rapid pace. One hand leaves your waist to cradle your jaw, keeping your gaze locked on his. You’re sure your expression must match his, entirely debauched, flushed, thoroughly fucked. He brings you forward, sweat soaked foreheads pressing together, his hand reaching under you to press you harder against his cock, your pace becoming frenzied in its intensity.
“Terzo…!” You cry, your voice urgent with your swiftly approaching orgasm. He flashes another grin, fingers clawing your inner thigh as his thumb makes quick circles of your clit. You think you scream as blinding white hot pleasure rips through your body, your hips moving in time with each throb of your clenching pussy. Terzo’s head falls forward and his mouth opens, no noise escaping except chocked air as his cock kicks and spills inside of you, and then finally he shouts, thighs shaking with the effort.
There’s a beat of quiet, the space full of your labored breathing until he falls backward and pulls you with him. The motion slips his sensitive cock from you, and you revel in the feeling of his cum coating your lips and dripping downward. You close your eyes, head pillowed on Terzo’s chest, his heart beating quickly against your ear. Terzo hums and pulls at your arms, and you begrudgingly move your spent body in a position more to his liking, a position where he can see your face and kiss it. His finger draws senseless patterns against your cheek, and he kisses the bridge of your nose.
“I am thinking I am not so upset anymore,” he murmurs. You glance up at him with curiosity and he smiles. “I can be Papa of one. For what sweet music she makes in her worship.”
You snicker and swat at his chest, and Terzo pulls you closer with a laugh, playfully biting your neck with a growl. You squeal and try to move away, but his hand captures your chin and silences you with a kiss. It is tender and sweet, gentle and unhurried, and when you part, you see the happiness in his eyes. Because he is. Finally. Terzo is happy.
#the band ghost#papa emeritus iii#papa emeritus terzo#terzo emeritus#papa iii x female reader#terzo x female reader#the band ghost fanfiction#mdni
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