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smileysuh · 2 months ago

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siren's song

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “That’s the funny thing about trust, isn’t it, Pirate King?” you ask, stepping closer to him. You look up into Johnny’s eyes, and he’s blown away by your natural beauty. “You’ll only find out if the trust is solid, when you’re in a moment of need.” A moment of need… watching your lips right now, Johnny’s in a deep moment of need.

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, wing kink, multiple reader orgasms, multiple sex positions, dirty talk, praise, worship, pussy eating, slight roughness, size kink, Johnny has a massive cock, inklings of captain kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) Princess.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k

🍭 aus. Pirate au, siren au, Captain!Johnny etc…

☀️ mlist + an. so I did a Pirates of the Caribbean marathon last month, and I'm a huge One Piece fan, and I wanted to tackle a pirate au :) I'm super pleased with how it turned out, and I hope you guys can appreciate this fantasy au too!

Prologue:

When Johnny had first become a pirate, he’d been taken under the wing of the most extraordinary man he’d ever known. The Pirate King had seen something in Johnny, who at that time was just a young man of thirteen. This King set out to teach Johnny everything he knew- and despite the fact that he was being groomed for the pirate crown, something in the back of Johnny’s mind felt as if the old King would ever die.

The two of them sailed for sixteen years, and Johnny watched his brave Captain and King cheat death more times than either of them could count or keep record of in their log book.

It feels unreal for Johnny now, as he sits next to his Captain’s bed, watching the most fearsome man he knows dwindle before his very eyes.

One good slice had been all it took to do him in, a slice, and a gruesome infection that followed, taKing a toll on the old pirate’s heart in a way Johnny could never have imagined possible.

“Before I die, there’s more I must tell you,” the Pirate King insists, reaching for Johnny’s wrist, which he holds in an iron grip despite his weakened state.

Johnny doesn’t have the heart to argue, he’ll hear his adopted father’s dying remarks if it’s the last thing he ever does.

“Confidence is key, my boy,” the Pirate King insists, a shiver running through him. There’s a sheen of sweat across his prominent brow, a sign of the fever that’s been killing him for days. He takes in a ragged breath before continuing. “The secret of the sirens is that they only prey-” he coughs, “only prey on pirates and sailors who have sins and baggage. This is a secret you too must pass down to your successor one day.”

Johnny’s not sure what to think as he grabs a cup of water to hold out to the old man, helping him drink. Sure, Johnny’s heard of sirens and mermaids, but he’s never actually seen any with his own two eyes. These must just be tall tales that his Captain’s exhausted mind is clenching at in the end- looking for something mythical to soothe him before he makes the leap into the great beyond.

“Regrets can’t have a place in your life, John,” the Pirate King continues, pushing the cup of water away and sending it clanging to the wooden floor of the ship. “You can’t be King if you feel regret, tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” Johnny assures his Captain, reaching for the cup. There’s no use wiping the water up, afterall, the wooden decks of the ship are worn and speckled with the signs of years of use. It’s a ship that has been thoroughly loved, and Johnny is already considering the option of getting one of his own to note the start of his pirate reign.

“You don’t understand,” the Pirate King sighs, relaxing back against his pillows, “but that’s alright. You’ll understand soon enough.” He takes a haggard breath, and Johnny watches his old weathered hands clutch at his bedding. “There’s a rite of passage every new Pirate King must take. You’ll sail to the Forbidden Island Chain, the Selkie Islands, where you’ll find the sirens and mermaids from the old tales. You’ll have to prove yourself once you’re there, prove your lack of regrets. Only the one true Pirate King, who is confident in all of his doings, can withstand their deadly songs.”

One:

When the old Pirate King had first told Johnny of his task, he hadn’t quite believed it. However, after his passing, Doyoung, the scribe/navigator/book keeper had approached Johnny to tell him this was very much a real rite of passage, and that he’d been gifted with explicit coordinates as well as reading materials to use to complete the journey.

Johnny had been an avid reader growing up, and while he’d read the stories of mermaids and sirens with extreme interest as a lad, he’d thought of the contents as more fiction than fact. It’s interesting now, to be a man of twenty-nine, rereading the books of his youth with a newfound view of reality.

The islands they’re headed to are a no man’s land. For as long as recorded pirate lore can remember, the Selkie islands have been home to mermaids and sirens. While many don’t believe in these mythical beasts, pirates can be a superstitious lot, and any who have risked the voyage, haven’t returned to tell their story. It’s as they always say, dead men tell no tales.

Sure, sirens and mermaids have supposedly ventured away from the islands, looking for men and sailors to drown, but the reports of that have been few and far inbetween in these past years, especially since the British Royal Navy has made a larger foothold as far as pirateering is concerned.

In the last leg of their trip, Johnny calls his men to the deck of The Neo. “This is our maiden voyage,” Johnny calls above the familiar sound of the sea. “We’re a new crew, and I don’t expect to have full loyalty yet, despite my standing as the future Pirate King. Some of you must be wondering about our destination. I’m sure you’ve all heard the tales of mermaids and sirens- and for the safety of everyone, I want to make sure we go into this with a full arsenal, which means, we all must know our enemy.”

Johnny turns his attention to Doyoung, who steps forward carrying a few of Johnny’s top reading materials.

“There’s a difference between sirens and mermaids,” Johnny starts, picking the first book up, “they’re not the same thing, although, that’s been lost as common knowledge in the past years. Mermaids are the easy ones, half fish, half woman, and as alluring as anything we’ve ever seen. They will draw you to the water, whether that be the edge of the boat, or the edge of land, and when you’re close enough, they grab you and drown you.”

“Do they eat us or fuck us?” one person calls, and Johnny looks up to see Lee Donghyuck blinking up at him. “I just mean, I’ve heard both,” the youngest pirate says, defending himself as a chorus of agreed murmurs erupts through Johnny’s new crew.

“That’s a good question,” Johnny admits. “One that is undetermined, as no survivors have ever come back from being dragged under the sea, and all other opinions are just conjecture.”

“Pff, conjecture,” someone scoffs.

Johnny knows he’s a lot more well read than anyone on his crew. He spent many many voyages as a young man in the old Pirate King’s library. The Pirate King had always been grooming him for the top position, and there’s a certain amount of smarts that have to be shown in order to excel at the role. Johnny is no ordinary pirate, which is what sets him apart from all others.

“Sirens, on the other hand,” Johnny continues, “are said to have been ladies in waiting to Persephone, from the Greek myths. When she was snatched away by Hades, her mother, Demeter, gave her ladies in waiting wings to search for her. Sirens are angelic creatures, in beauty, and in voice. They lure not with good looks alone, but with songs that bewitch. If they can, they’ll steal your soul right from your own mouth.”

Johnny knows now that a siren’s power has to do with the regrets you hold, which is why he’s spend the past two months forgiving himself for any and all misdemeanors.

“In the ancient Greek texts, they tell of beeswax used in The Odyssey, shoved into ears to make you unable to hear the siren’s song, that’s what we’ll do now as we approach the final day of our journey.”

“What?” someone bellows.

“Doyoung will hand out the beeswax, and you will all hopefully be immune to death unless you decide to wander to the ship’s edge and give yourself to the sirens and mermaids.”

“What about you, Captain?” Mark Lee speaks up. God, he’s too soft to be a pirate at times, but Johnny had hand picked him for a reason. He’s more thoughtful than most- in fact, the whole crew was chosen for a variety of reasons, and Johnny wouldn’t sail with anyone else.

“Part of my trial is to face the siren’s song unprotected, to prove that I’m the one true Pirate King,” Johnny explains.

Doyoung has begun to hand out the beeswax, and one look at his unamused face tells Johnny that his faithful scribe doesn’t believe in this whole little farce. It’s more than likely that due to a lack of belief, numerous men will fall under the spell of a mermaid of siren, and that’s something Johnny had accepted before they set sail.

No, Johnny loves his crew already, but he’d be lying if he said they were anything other than exactly what they are: pirates.

Two:

There’s a flurry of commotion among the palace halls today, whispers of the death of the old Pirate King, and the rise of a new one.

This isn’t something that happens frequently, and you’re at an age where the arrival of a new Pirate King can impact you directly.

You’re a Siren Princess, and out of all of your sisters, you’re your fathers favourite. As you walk to the great hall, you’re aware that the likelihood is you’ll be chosen to sing a song to the new Pirate King, as your mother had before you.

The new ship is approaching with speed, and soon, you’re being whisked off by your ladies in waiting to get dressed the part. A silky white dress is strewn upon your form, hugging all the right curves, and accentuating all that your womanly body has to offer. The siren’s song is more than sung lyrics, it’s an entire performance, and the jewels that are set to adorn your form are part of it.

“He’s here!” one of your sisters declares as she barges into your room, a mischievous look on her face.

Everyone erupts into a fit of enthusiasm, and you’re ushered outside, where you join your father in the palace’s temple courtyard that looks down to the cove.

It’s true, there’s a large pirate ship just entering the bay, bearing the skull and crossbones symbol of pirates on it’s proudly waving flag.

Your wings waver at the notion of flight, and you lick your lips in preparation, feeling a flurry of excitement beginning to build within your breast.

“Be good, my sweet,” your father encourages you. “Test the man.”

“I will,” you promise, allowing him to squeeze your hand as one last sign of affection before you take flight.

This first contact with the new Pirate King is a solitary mission, and you feel naked as your large, strong wings carry you from the mountain top and toward the pirate vessel in the bay.

As you approach, your eagle eyes narrow in on a man waiting by the bow of the ship. He’s leaning on the rail, a grin on his face as he watches you draw near. He’s handsome, something you can’t deny as you hover just a few meters away.

He doesn’t look like a typical pirate. There’s no beard or missing eye. No, he has chiseled features, and a mischievous smile that almost threatens to take your breath away. His white tunic is open, and you sneak a glance at chiseled abs and skin that’s beautifully worn and tanned from years spent in the elements.

Despite his good looks, you have a job to do, and the man is patient as you begin your song.

You’ve been preparing for this for years, and The Sister’s Song you’ve practiced is one of loss and grief, however, there’s a haunting beauty to it too, one that even your own people find hard to resist.

You sing your heart out, watching the new Pirate King carefully.

He smiles at your song, however, he doesn’t flinch a muscle. When your words die off, he lifts his hands to clap, and with that, you know that he’s fit to be the next pirate ruler. He’s a man with no regrets, a man who lives by the beat of his own drum, and he’s earned your respect.

“That was a lovely song,” the man calls out to you.

“And what is your name, new would-be King?” you retort.

“I’m Captain John, but you can call me Johnny,” he grins. “And you?”

“I’m the Siren Princess, y/n.”

Johnny nods. “I know the past Pirate Kings have come for a song and left, however, I was hoping for more than a blessing today.”

“That’s presumptuous of you,” you note, feeling a smile work its way onto your face.

“Being presumptuous is part of being a King, I suppose,” Johnny muses. “I was hoping for a banquet. We’ve brought food and booze.”

“A banquet,” you repeat. Never before has a Pirate King dared come to your shores- this man is something different, and it intrigues you in a way you’ll never be able to express. “I accept. You can follow me to the water’s edge palace.”

“I do have one condition though.”

“And what is it that the new Pirate King suggests?” you enquire.

“Only that my men will be keeping their earplugs in. Many a pirate banquet have ended with blood in the water, but tonight, I’m hoping to be more civilized.”

“A civilized pirate,” you laugh. “That’s new.”

Three:

Johnny knows that he’s bringing his men deep into danger, but this is something that he feels will be an important stepping stone. While past Pirate Kings have had an understanding with the mermaids and sirens, none had fed the flames to keep the fire going. No, in contrast to his past predecessors, Johnny thinks it’s important to have a better connection with sirens and mermaids, perhaps even diplomatic relations.

Sure, it also helps that you’re absolutely stunning, and Johnny would be lying if he said he didn’t want to spend more time with you- but his plans for a banquet had been set in stone before he’d laid his eyes on you, so Johnny has no regrets there.

As Johnny is taken to shore and shown into the waterside palace, the new King notes the way siren’s have different wings.

While yours are white an angelic, others have more fairy like protrusions, and Johnny would bet his life that your wings are a sign of royal blood. They’re certainly the most durable, the largest, and the strongest, that he’s able to see, and when any others appear with similar wings, you’re quick to introduce them as family.

“I’m interested to meet your father. You said you’re a Siren Princess, so your father must be King,” Johnny notes as he follows you through the palace. It’s old marble, and while parts of it are eroding, Johnny can’t help but marvel at the way the structure straddles the lines of nature. There are all sorts of growing greens, as well as harmony between both earth and water elements- with streams interweaving below white marbled bridges.

In these waterways, are mermaids, who look up at him with curiosity, their hair always falling just so- protecting their modesty, if creatures such as they even possess such a thing.

“He’ll come down from the mountain palace,” you tell Johnny. “You have to understand, no Pirate King has ever dared set foot here. This is not something we are accustomed to.”

“I can see that,” Johnny nods, turning to find Donghyuck leaning over the edge of the bridge, eyes locked with a particularly gorgeous mermaid, who’s creeping closer and closer from the stream below-

Johnny grabs the younger pirate by the scruff of the neck, tearing him away from a beautifully savage fate. He pushes Donghyuck towards Yuta, and the mermaids giggle. “Keep an eye on him,” Johnny warns the feral looking pirate. “And keep an eye on yourself while you’re at it.”

You smile at the interaction, and Johnny sighs.

“You think this is funny, do you?”

“Just a show that we don’t need to be heard to be alluring, mermaids never rely on their voices, so your beeswax will do little to ward them off.”

“I guess I thought my men had more control,” Johnny admits, falling into step with you and casting a glance at the crew that follows, “although, I guess at the end of the day, they’re just pirates.”

“And you’re not?” you counter.

“I’m a pirate, it’s true,” Johnny confesses. “But I think we both know, no Pirate King is ever just a pirate.”

“I will agree with you on that,” you nod. Although you’ve not met many pirates in your life, it’s clear that this one has a better head on his shoulders than most- in more than just the looks department. “The great hall is this way,” you continue, showing him through an archway that brings you to the outdoor meeting place.

It’s a true wonder of water and earth, a courtyard exposed to the night sky above. The moonlight illuminates the space, and littered throughout are pools with glassy water, mermaids perched like poised, picturesque, marble statues along their edges. Eyes that shine in the nightly gleam watch as you draw the Pirate King’s crew deeper into the lion’s den, beautiful predators, assessing every movement.

You hope this new Pirate King knows what he’s doing.

Four:

By all accounts, the feast is going well. Roaring fires are cooking multiple boar that Johnny had brought specifically for this trip, as well as fish and other provisions they’d packed. The sirens and mermaids had provided more of the perishable items, and even though there are wooden bowls of salad littered here and there, it’s clear that everyone has a preference for the meat.

The mermaids in particular are quite savage with the way they eat, grabbing leg straight by the bone and tearing in with teeth that hadn’t looked as sharp before as they do now.

Johnny is on alert, despite his attempts to exude a calm and happy countenance.

He feels as if he’s in a den of angelic looking demons, and he’s already caught numerous crewmates wandering just a little too close to the water’s edge. Hyuck in particular has been reared back by the scruff of his neck a grand total of five times, and Johnny’s beginning to think the young man simply has a death wish… that, or his brain resides in his cock.

From the way the mermaids giggle with each close call, it’s clear to Johnny that they’re testing him as the new Pirate King. They’re testing his trust in them, his wits, and Johnny’s not quite sure what to make of it.

“Pirate King,” your voice distracts Johnny from his internal musings, and he turns to you. “Come with me,” you bid him, standing and reaching out a hand. “I have something to give you.”

Your words draw not only Johnny’s attention, but the attention of those around him, and Yuta lets out a loud wolf whistle. It’s no shock that his crew would have filthy thoughts about why you’re whisking him away, but Johnny gets the suspicion that this interaction isn’t just about getting in his pants.

You’re a Princess after all, and so far, you’ve been nothing short of a gracious host. It’s clear that the two of you share alliance goals, and Johnny had watched you take your father to the side and passionately argue the importance of a connection between pirates and sirens.

“Watch Hyuck,” Johnny warns Jaehyun as he stands, allowing you to gently guide him by the hand away from the festivities.

Mermaids watch curiously as you lead Johnny over a number of small bridges, moving farther and farther from the main courtyard until you’re back at the edge of the sea. Johnny can hardly hear the sound of loud pirate laughter anymore, and he realizes how serene this new location is as he studies your winged form in the moonlight.

“I have two gifts for you,” you tell him, reaching into your dress. Johnny hadn’t realized the fine white material had included pockets, but then again, most of the night he’s been staring at your pretty face and your angelic wings. You pull out a conch shell, handing it to Johnny. “This one is to call for mermaids, and this one,” you place a halloweed reed style whistle next to the shell, “is to call on sirens. They’re in case you need help in battle, a way to contact us, to solidify an alliance of sorts, although- I warn you not to use the shell if you have any men in the water, mermaids are not the most discerning of saviours.”

Johnny looks down at the two items. At first, he doesn’t know what to say, and his voice cracks when he finally finds the words. “Thank you.” He swallows thickly. “I appreciate these, uh… tokens.”

You let out a giggle. “No need to be so formal, Pirate King.”

“Says the woman who just used the word discerning.”

“I’m more educated than you, pirate,” you grin.

“Wouldn’t be so sure about that, Princess.”

“Touche.”

Johnny enjoys this back and forth, it feels natural, and without the eyes of countless others on the two of you right now, the Pirate King feels comfortable to just be himself. “I guess, as much as I appreciate these gifts, I’m still wondering if I can trust you, if you’ll come when I call.”

“That’s the funny thing about trust, isn’t it, Pirate King?” you ask, stepping closer to him. You look up into Johnny’s eyes, and he’s blown away by your natural beauty. “You’ll only find out if the trust is solid, when you’re in a moment of need.”

A moment of need… watching your lips right now, Johnny’s in a deep moment of need.

From the way your own gaze dips down, Johnny’s sure you reciprocate the attraction, and with one final ‘fuck it’ that he sends to the wind, Johnny cups the back of your neck with his large palm. He draws your mouth to his, kissing you gently on the edge of the sea as the moonlight bathes you both in light. The winds carry the smell of salt, a constant reminder of Johnny’s true commitments.

He’s a man with no regrets, a Pirate King, and nothing could ever make Johnny regret this shared kiss, this shared confirmation of a newly blossomed union between pirates, mermaids and sirens.

Five:

It’s been a full year since the Pirate King arrived at the Selkie Islands, a full year without hearing a whistle or the blow of a conch, and in that time, you’ve begun to worry about him.

Sure, he’d been strong, and tall, and handsome- but in your opinion, he’d lacked the savagery that had been so clearly evident in those who had come before him, not to mention excessive facial hair, bad teeth and body odor.

You’ve done your best to distract yourself with your studies, as education is important for a Princess such as yourself, and you’re in your library one afternoon when your ears pick up that distant call.

The reed you’d given the Pirate King is a magic reed, and it’s fine tuned to your ears. You’re able to hear it from a vast distance, and with your natural bird like homing abilities, there’s no way you’d miss Johnny’s location.

It’s been a year, but finally, you’re being summoned.

You’re quick to rally a small force of sirens to go with you, your Princess’ guard, which consists of your best female fighters with the strongest wings for flight. Despite your father being the King of the sirens, that’s only in the stead of your mother, who had died of an illness many moons ago. The sirens, as well as the mermaids, are naturally maternalistic societies, and when you need something done right, you send a band of females.

The journey is a long one, but with your wings, you’re able to cover vast distances. You make it to Johnny’s pirate ship and the cove it’s anchored in just as the evening sun is setting. The Neo is still alive and well, and there are hardly any new marks on it, something that reassures you as you and your small band of sirens touch down on the deck.

Pirates watch you, and your eyes find Johnny as he steps down the stairs from the helm to greet you.

“Wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admits, stopping just at the bottom step to assess you with a half grin on his face, his Captain’s hat tilted just so.

“Travel takes time, as I’m sure you know,” you retort. “What’s the emergency?”

“I’d like to speak to you, privately.”

With a nod to your companions, you follow Johnny into the Captain’s quarters, curious as to what this call is about if not an attack.

“On the island, we hold pirate council,” Johnny explains. “Seeing as you’re my new ally, I’d like for you to speak, as a Princess, as the head of the sirens- and I’d like you to have a say for the mermaids as well, although, I can call upon the mermaids too if you’d rather they have their own representative.”

“Pirate council?” you ask in shock. “I wasn’t aware pirates were so democratic.”

“I am King of something, Princess,” Johnny grins.

“I suppose that’s true,” you smile back at him slyly. “I can speak for the sirens, and the mermaids, at this council at least. When I return to the Selkie Islands, I can discuss a mermaid representative for further collaborative efforts.”

Johnny nods. “Works for me.”

“So when is this council, exactly?”

“We were waiting for you.”

Within minutes, you’re following Johnny into the largest beached pirate ship vessel you’ve ever seen. Despite it’s outside appearance, the inside is remarkably well kept- and you suppose it’s worn down exterior acts as a camouflage of sorts for the importance of what takes place inside this aged wooden skeleton of the sea.

You feel very important as you walk with Johnny, and he pays you the respect of holding you at his arm, making you equals as you enter the large council chamber.

Whispers erupt at the sight of you, and you suppose many of the pirates present have never seen a siren in the flesh.

“I told them I’d be bringing you,” Johnny whispers in your ear as he takes you to the head of the table, pulling out the seat at his right hand for you to sit in. As you get settled, he leans close, his lips just brushing your ear. “You could ensnare the souls of every person in this room if you so much as breathed a note of your siren song, don’t be scared, and speak from your heart.”

You’d always thought of yourself as a confident Princess, but walking into this pirate’s den had shaken your foundations. Hearing Johnny’s praise of you, the facts that he’s pointed out- it helps you calm down, your shoulders falling, body relaxing.

“Today, this pirate council has been drawn, because we need to discuss the increasing threat in our waters,” Johnny’s clear Kingly voice rings out through the room. “The British Royal Navy. they’ve been imposing their laws, sinking ships, taking prisoners, and killing every man, woman, or child who has ever had anything to do with the likes of us.”

This is all news to you. You’ve heard whispers of a new type of sailor in these seas, of more regimented water crafts- but your kind generally sticks to your own islands these days, you’d had no clue that this ‘British Royal Navy’ had become such an imposing force.

You listen as Johnny continues his speech, and then he opens up the floor for other pirates to speak.

It’s a heated debate, a debate of which you’re not necessarily inclined to be a part of. There’s talk of attacking ports, jail breaking prisoners-

It’s clear to you that although they view themselves as somewhat democratic for throwing a council such as this, that many of the pirates who are here to represent their crew and fleat, are very much in it only for themselves.

It’s also evident that Johnny takes his role as Pirate King extremely seriously, and you find yourself most and more enraptured as you watch him take control and keep things peaceful. Not only does he understand what others are saying, but often, he’s able to reword concerns so that others can understand as well. He’s like a Pirate King translator, and it’s a very attractive quality.

There’s a bit of infighting between two rough looking bearded men, and when Johnny breaks it up, he sighs, turning to you. “Do you have any opinions, Princess?”

“I’d like to spend the night thinking on it. I’ve taken in a lot of information, and I’m tired from my travel.”

“That’s a good point,” Johnny nods. “I think we should all take the night to think things though and consider other perspectives, we can reconvene in the morning.”

The Pirate King stands up, not giving any time for protest, and as you rise to join him, you take a survey of the room. You can see the respect that the others have for him, and everyone stays in their seat as Johnny takes your arm and leads you back outside.

The two of you are quiet as you return to his ship. It’s clear there’s a lot on both of your minds, and you kind of enjoy the peaceful quiet that blossoms with the strong man at your side.

“Well,” Johnny says finally, “I’ll give you and your companions my cabin, and I’ll find somewhere to sleep below deck.”

“It’s alright,” you tell him. “I’m going to send my companions home, it’s clear they’re not needed here tonight, and after our council meeting tomorrow, I’ll return to the Selkie Islands as well.”

“Almost sounds like you trust me to be on my best behaviour, Princess,” Johnny grins.

“As you said before, one note of song from my lips and your entire crew could be under my spell. I have nothing to fear.”

“Not even from me?” he toys.

“Not even from the Pirate King himself.”

“Well,” Johnny licks his lips, taking in your form, “I’ll let you say your goodbyes, and then you can meet me in my quarters.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

“That’s King to you, Princess.”

You can only scoff, turning and leaving the Captain to join your ladies on the deck of the ship. You fill them in on the council meeting, and although two of them are reluctant to leave your side, you reassure them that you’ll be okay. This new strengthening of the alliance with the pirates is founded on trust, and if anything happens, the sirens alone could take out the entire pirate fleet sans Captain John himself, who’s impervious to your songs.

Soon, you’re the lone winged creature on the deck of the ship, and you can feel eyes on you as you make your way to Johnny’s Captain’s quarters.

You’d been in here earlier when Johnny had taken you aside for a private chat, but you hadn’t taken the time to fully appreciate his home.

While there are wooden accents everywhere, it’s a very lavish quarters. There are lots of red velvet- royal colours that draw your eyes. It’s a masculine space, but the full walled library betrays the erudite mind of the new Pirate King. A large table is littered with maps, and it’s clear that’s where Johnny does most of his work, however, tucked into a wall pocket by his books, is a massive bed, with the same scarlety fabric drapes to make the sleeping section more private and cozy.

Johnny’s standing by the windows that look out the back of the ship, and while the candle flames lick light at the walls, it’s the reflection of the moon that truly illuminates the space.

“And so all the pretty birds fly home for the night,” he says, watching your companions disappear into the inky sky.

“All but one,” you muse, locking the door behind you.

“And the prettiest one at that.” Johnny turns to you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to find somewhere else to sleep tonight?”

“I’ve been thinking about our last meeting for a year, Captain, I think it would be a disservice to both of us to not indulge further, after all, we’ve been good and patient, haven’t we?”

“Too patient, even for a Pirate King,” Johnny groans, moving closer.

“Even for a Princess,” you agree, wetting your lips as you stay still, allowing Johnny to be the one to close the gap.

Like that night by the water’s edge, Johnny doesn’t ask permission, you can tell that he reads your need for him as easily as he had a year ago. His large hand cups your cheek, drawing your lips to his own, and it’s such a familiar feeling-

Something about him just feels right. It feels natural. As if you’ve done this a hundred times before, even though this is only really your second kiss with the young Pirate King.

Regardless, you allow yourself to get lost in him. Your hands begin to explore him as if by muscle memory, and you push at his long dark jacket, exposing the white unbuttoned tunic below. Fucking pirates and their fashion sense- he’s too much of a slut in this fucking shirt, it’s making you feral.

“Someone is eager,” Johnny muses, breaking the kiss to look down at you with a grin.

“Someone is dressed like a whore,” you retort, flicking his hat off his head with one sharp movement.

The Pirate King lets out a whistle. “Wow, Princess, didn’t expect to hear words like that coming out of such a pretty little mouth.”

“Maybe being around you has some of your piracy rubbing off on me,” you suggest, hooking your finger in his gun holster belt to tug him closer.

“Princess, if I’d rubbed one off on you, you’d know it.”

You can only scoff, and Johnny’s smile widens. He tugs you closer, looking down at you with dark eyes that have suddenly turned serious.

“I’ve got a question for you, Princess.”

“Yeah, and what’s that, Captain?”

“I was just thinking…” he looks past you, and your wings twitch under his inspecting gaze, “are they as sensitive as they look?”

You breathe in a harsh gasp, a shiver running through you at the thought.

Johnny grins again. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

Siren wings are extremely sensitive, especially ones like yours.

“They’re just… so pretty,” Johnny continues, reaching out. “You’ll let me touch, right?”

“You can touch,” you whisper, watching him while frozen in place. All your bravado and confidence are gone, and although you’re the siren, it feels as if the Pirate King has put you under a spell of his own now.

He’s ever so gentle as he brushes his fingers against your wing, looking down at you to watch for a reaction.

You close your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing, and you can tell from the way Johnny grabs your hip with his other hand, that he enjoys the effect this is having on you.

He traces down your wing to the base, where your human skin becomes feathers, and he toys that spot with a circular motion. It feels so good- you have to bite your tongue to stifle a moan.

“It’s okay, Princess, let it out, I wanna hear you,” Johnny encourages.

“You might, but what about your crew?” you ask, looking at the door just a few meters away. If you moan- even if it’s a moan and not a purposeful siren song - it could still bewitch anyone close enough to hear it, and you’d hate to lose composure, damaging your alliance, because you’re too horny to keep it in your pants and in your mouth.

“That’s a good point,” Johnny concedes. In one motion, he’s lifting you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips as he carries you toward the bed nook. He gently puts you down, carefully of just flopping you onto the mattress and damaging a wing, then, he draws the curtains closed, clearly hoping to muffle any sounds that come out of you. “Now… where were we?”

“I think you were about to get me naked and eat me the way you ate that fucking wild boar last year.”

“I was trying to be somewhat clean that night, you know,” Johnny laughs.

“I don’t mind messy, in fact, part of me might prefer it.”

“Are you sure you’re a Princess?” Johnny asks, kissing up your calf as you adjust against the pillows, making sure your wings are in an alright position for him to eat you out.

“I’m as much of a Princess as you are a King,” you point out.

Despite you both having titles, it’s clear there’s more to you than your respective stations in life. Sure, the fact that he’s a Pirate King and you’re a Siren Princess is making this whole interaction possible, but there’s a desire to know him on a deeper level- and it’s one of the reasons you’re reluctant to refer to him as King. You’d rather see him as a Captain, a leader of men in that capacity-

Johnny’s hands push your dress up your thighs, and you let out a small exhale at the feeling of cool cabin air on your exposed skin.

As a siren, you’re somewhat of a wild being. No matter how civilized you might look, with your long flowy dresses, and monarch system- you’re still not fully human, and you hate restrictive clothing, which is why, the dress is the only piece of fabric covering your body. As Johnny pushes the fabric up, he realizes your nudity under the silk, and you watch his pupils dilate with interest.

Johnny licks his lips, looking up at you one last time, as if asking for permission. You nod to him, a smile working its way onto your face as you realize how soft he’s being with you.

He’s the big bad Pirate King, but consent is still a must- God, he’s truly an enigma, and you’d be happy to spend years figuring him out.

Johnny dives into your pussy. Two large hands grab your thighs, spreading you open for the tongue that begins to lap at your core.

“Shit-” you groan. No one’s ever eaten you out like this before. You’re not a virgin per se, but your number of sexual experiences is severely limited. As far as mythical races go, the sirens aren’t the horniest of creatures, but there’s something about this Pirate King that changes everything.

You can feel Johnny grin against your pussy, and it turns you on even more as he sucks your clit into his mouth, flicking at it repeatedly.

Your hands are grabbing at the lush bedding, trying to keep you grounded on a ship that’s gently rocking from the sea. There are so many textures, the velvety fabrics, your silky dress pushed up to your waist. The smells of the wood and sea, the sounds of The Neo and the water lapping at her sides-

You’re overwhelmed in the best possible way as sounds of desperation escape you, spurring on the Pirate King as he works you over with his mouth.

You reach down, threading your fingers through his soft hair. God, some pirates are unhygienic as fuck, but this one seems to know how to take care of himself, and that’s an attractive quality in a man.

Johnny growls against your pussy, sucking your clit even harder, and your toes curl. You can feel an orgasm rising in the pit of your stomach, and Johnny’s steady pace is drawing that release closer and closer-

His grip digs into your thighs and you throw your head back gasping-

Your eyes clench shut as your orgasm washes over you, throbbing through your entire body unlike any high you’ve ever had, even those you’ve given yourself.

You ride out the orgasm, and Johnny continues to worship your core until you’re spent and sweaty. You push him away gently, and he looks up at you. As the Pirate King rises, he licks his lips, and you enjoy the view of him getting every last drop of your taste.

“You taste as angelic as you look, Princess,” Johnny muses.

“And I feel even better,” you say lazily.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Johnny shrugs off his white tunic, baring his washboard abs and broad chest. He’s got scars, battle wounds most likely, but nothing too gnarly. No, he’s quite beautiful, for a pirate.

Your dress has a low back, the type that you step into so your wings aren’t damaged or put in any awkward positions, so as Johnny strips himself, you tug the silky fabric of your own clothing down your body.

You love the feeling of the velvety bedding against your exposed skin, and you spread your legs for Johnny, an invite.

He drops his pants to the ground, and his heavy belt acts like as a weight, creating a loud thumping sound against the worn wooden floor.

Fuck. The Pirate King is packing. You’d noticed his affinity for a pistol over a sword, but you suppose that’s only because he has a sword sized cock inside his breeches.

Johnny reads your expression, and he lets out a chuckle. “Don’t worry, Princess, I’ll go slow with you.”

“You better. Being fatally impaled by the Pirate King was not in my nightly plan.”

“Just… pleasantly impaled by the Pirate King, right?” Johnny jokes, getting onto the bed with you, his large biceps bulging as he holds his weight overtop of your body.

God, he’s so handsome, and playful for a Pirate King too. There’s something to unique about this Captain John, and it takes your breath away. The familiarity makes you uncomfortable in some form, so instead of responding, you grab the back of his neck, drawing his lips to yours.

Johnny immediately kisses you, rolling his hips so his cock can drag against your pussy while you wrap your legs tight around him. His mouth is so distracting, but you simply can’t take your mind off of the massive length that’s toying by your clit with each rut of his hips.

How are you even going to fit this man inside of you?

To your surprise, Johnny is true to his word about not rushing anything. He simply makes out with you, rutting gently, working you up until you’re a gasping mess. You can feel your pussy practically crying onto his cock now, can feel how wet you’ve made his length with each pass of it through your pussy lips.

“Okay, I’m ready,” you tell him, adjusting slightly against his pillows, one wing stretching out to steady yourself a little.

“You sure about that?” Johnny taunts, bringing his lips to your throat, where he teases past your skin.

You moan desperately, tightening your grip on his hips, urging him to just fuck you-

Johnny’s nose grazes up your neck, and he pulls your ear lobe into his mouth, suckling on it gently.

“Please,” you whimper, all composure lost.

Johnny pulls away, looking down at you with an expression very much like concern while you grab at his broad shoulders. “Did you just say… please?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

The Pirate King grabs your jaw, forcing your eyes to his again. “That actually sounded really cute coming from you, Princess.”

“If you don’t want to fuck me, then don’t fuck me,” you snap, getting irritated in your impatient lust fueled state.

“Does it feel like I don’t want to fuck you?” Johnny counters, rutting his hips so you can feel his massive cock, all enlarged and throbbing- “I just don’t want to hurt you, Princess. Remember, I have to be a man without regrets, and if I hurt you, then I’d have something to regret, and I couldn’t effectively be King of the pirates.”

Your heart melts for him, and it’s the best explanation he could have possibly given. You smash your lips to his, moaning into the kiss as desperation continues to take over your entire body.

Johnny adjusts his cock, pressing just the tip to your aching hole. He’s as gentle as ever as he slowly pushes it in, waiting patiently as you get used to the stretch.

The Pirate King continues to kiss you, distracting you from the feeling until it becomes pleasurable, then, he pushes deeper into you, repeating the slow build up. He takes his time, and it’s as if he knows your body inside and out, as if he’s reading every little reaction to make it the best possible experience for you.

Johnny is now completely inside of you, and you gasp at how deep it feels. You’re shocked he’s flush to your body, your chests heaving, foreheads pressed together, lips parted, staring into each others eyes.

God, this connection feels unlike anything else you’ve ever experienced.

It’s as if he’s staring into your soul, which is an uncanny feeling given the fact that siren’ are the soul collectors of the mortal world. You feel so bare for him, so susceptible and weaponless- but there’s no fear with this knowledge. You trust the young Pirate King, you’re not sure why, but you do. It’s this deep knowing- one that you can’t put into words.

“You ready?” Johnny asks, swallowing thickly.

You nod, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m ready.”

Johnny leans down, gently pressing his lips to yours as he begins to move his hips, slowly rutting into you, allowing your body to get used to his size with each motion.

You moan desperately against his mouth, kissing him harder, gripping his strong shoulders desperately as his pace builds-

One shift has your wing caught under you uncomfortably, and you break the kiss. “Can I be on top? My wing-”

Before you can even finish your explanation, Johnny is grabbing the small of your back, keeping you tucked to his chest, and rolling you so you’re now in the dominant position. He looks up at you, and you stretch your wings out. Your hands fall flat on his chest, your head thrown back as you enjoy the feeling of freedom now that you’re on top.

“God, you’re so pretty,” Johnny breathes.

“You and your wing kink, mister Pirate King,” you laugh, looking down at him.

“There are worse kinks to have,” he suggests, stroking your hip.

You don’t bother to agree with him, you simply start to move, rubbing back and forth a little, getting used to how deep his cock is inside your core now that you’re in the power position.

“The way you’re taking me is fucking heaven,” Johnny groans, pressing his thumb to your clit to rub gentle circles that set your skin on fire.

“Maybe we were made for each other,” you offer breathlessly, intending it to be a lighthearted joke of sorts, but the growl Johnny releases at your words tells you he takes them seriously.

“Maybe we were,” Johnny agrees, rubbing your clit even harder. His other hand finds your hip, and he begins to half bounce you up and down on his cock, leveraging the bed so he can make his own shallow thrusts, coming up to meet you with each motion.

The thought of the two of you being weird, two sides of the same coin soulmates has your stomach twisting into knots, or maybe that’s just the massive cock rearranging your guts, you’re not quite sure.

God, he looks so pretty like this too- a thin layer of sweat on his broad chest, his pouty bottom lip caught between his sexy teeth, brow furrowed in concentration. The scars on his tanned skin truly don’t bug you, in fact, the intricate lines are almost a type of art all of their own. You could spend hours tracing them-

Your toes curl as Johnny’s thumb works your clit, combining with his cock in your tight hole, working you closer and closer to the edge again.

“Come on, Princess,” Johnny groans, “almost there, and then I can flip you over and fuck you stupid.”

You’re pretty sure he’s already fucking you stupid, and you’re not quite sure why he’s encouraging you when he’s doing practically all the work- so you close your eyes, focusing on the feeling that’s building- getting to the edge in record speed is the one thing you can control right now.

Each breath feels almost like a type of meditation now, your body thrumming with an eclectic energy that you know is almost ready to explode-

“That’s it, cum on my cock.”

His words are the trigger that has you short circuiting, your body jolting as your orgasm slams into you. You cry out, eyes clenching shut as your pussy clamps down on his cock, your clit pulsing deliciously.

Johnny doesn’t let up, he continues to gently rub the sensitive nub, fucking up into you to prolong your high-

Soon, you can’t take it anymore, and you collapse down against his chest, breathing deeply.

Johnny cradles you for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re gonna let me cum too, right, Princess?” he asks.

“Yeah, cum in me-” you whisper, too delirious to even think straight.

Johnny helps you off of him, adjusting you onto your stomach. He gets behind you, grabbing your hips and pulling you up into doggy position. “This view is amazing,” he tells you, gently stroking one of your wings and making a shock of pleasure run through your body. “If it’s too much, just tell me to stop.”

You can only nod, bracing yourself as he lines his cock up with your soaked hole, pushing into you as easy as ever.

His hands find your hips, and he begins to rail into you. Gone is the gentleness from before, but you don’t mind it. No, there’s an enjoyment in this raw, animalistic savagery- or maybe you should classify it as pirate-like in nature. Regardless of specification, it feels fucking good, and each smack of Johnny’s hips against your ass has you clawing at his bedding.

Then, one of Johnny’s hands is smoothing up your back, and you let out a strangled squeal when he grips the base of your wing, using it as a type of leverage as he fucks you.

There are no words to truly describe the feeling of having your wings being touched, and there are even fewer metaphors to encapsulate the ecstasy that comes from having Johnny utilize your wings to fuck you absolutely stupid. All you can do is take what he gives you, muffling your sounds with his pillow as he draws you closer and closer to the edge yet again, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“These are sensitive, huh, Princess?” Johnny asks, stroking his pointer finger up the section of wing in his grasp. “Almost feels like you’re gonna cum again.”

“Fuck, I am- I will, just- don’t stop!” you beg.

“If that’s what my Princess commands.” In fact, Johnny fucks you even harder, fingers digging into your hip with each rough motion.

He draws circles on the base of your wing with his thumb, and your body begins to twitch-

“I want us to cum together,” Johnny breathes heavily. “You’ll cum with me, right?”

“Yes, yes-”

“Almost there,” the Pirate King warns you.

Your own high is balancing on the edge of the knife, and as Johnny releases a raw grunt of satisfaction, the sound sends you toppling into the pleasure abyss.

You can feel him filling you up with cum as your pussy milks him for every single drop that the Pirate King is worth. All you can do is lay there, face buried in the pillows while wave upon wave of ecstasy washes over you like an all consuming, destructive, sea tempest.

Despite how powerful and intense it is, there’s never been anything as good as this before either.

Soon, Johnny’s slowing down, breathing heavily against your back. Your wings twitch at the feeling of his exhales, and he releases the base of your appendage, stroking his fingers down your spine gently.

“Give me a second, then I’ll get you cleaned up.”

You can only whimper, in a daze from three hard orgasms.

Johnny is true to his word, slipping out of you a minute later and returning with a cloth. He cleans you up, and then, he wraps you in his arms, drawing you under the blankets so you can cuddle even closer.

The two of you fall asleep like this, a Siren Princess, and a Pirate King, two beings without an ounce of regret.

Six:

Johnny’s happy with how things are going with council. He’d thought long and hard about not incurring an all out war with the navy, while also not leaving a single pirate behind. Prison breaks with the purpose of salvation over bloodshed, that had been his primary goal, and while many of his fellow pirates had seemed a little less than enthusiastic about the idea, he’d gotten them to agree.

He can’t govern them at all times, it was clear to him that sooner or later, pirates would begin their own brand of revolutionary vigilantism, but without any specific boundaries prohibiting the excessive use of force and weapons, things would turn into an all out war faster than Johnny would have ever been able to manage.

No, the agreement to tone down the violence is a good one, and as all the pirates begrudgingly agree, Johnny turns his attention to you. “What do you think, Princess?”

You release a sigh, one large wing twitching behind you. “Unfortunately, unlike the rest of you, who are a fact of the seas, my kind isn’t as well known, especially not to this new British Royal Navy. To be part of this encroaching threat would only put my people in danger. I can’t actively condone or participate a war, even on a small scale like this. I think as pirates you should do what you’d like, but my people will keep to our Islands and hopefully remain unnoticed by the Navy.”

Johnny nods. “I understand your concerns,” and with that, he leaves you be. He’d wanted you to be part of this council, but he’d known there would be times where the topic at hand wasn’t something that would affect you. He’s just happy to have your voice here, to have his alliance with you be glaringly obvious to all those who might oppose him or question his legitimacy as the new Pirate King.

The council completes its dues, and soon, Johnny is walking back with you toward his ship.

His men get scarce, something that he doubts is a coincidence, and Johnny leads you to the bow of the ship. The Neo’s large winged figurehead looks out at the sea, and the pirate Captain gazes as well, noting the oncoming storm that’s brewing in the distance.

“I guess I should be going home,” you sigh.

“Those clouds don’t look very friendly,” Johnny points out. “You can stay another night if you’d like.”

“Storms don’t phase me, Captain,” you tease. “Although, before I go, I have something to give you.”

Johnny turns to watch you pull a small reed from your pocket. It’s like the one you’d given him a year ago, but more dainty in a way.

“This reed is different from the other one,” you explain. “This one is a frequency just for me, so you can call when you need anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” you confirm with a sly smile. “If you play these three notes,” you demonstrate, “it will alert me that it’s not a life or death situation.”

“I’ll be sure to call for you if you’re needed,” Johnny muses, accepting the reed and playing the three note tune as easily as anything.

“And if I’m not needed, then I’m not needed,” you shrug.

Johnny likes this. He likes that you’re not trying to control him. No, you have an understanding that he is who he is. He’s a Pirate King, a man who more than anyone else, belongs to the sea. You’re not going to hold him down, and he’s pretty sure neither of you would enjoy it if you tried.

The flip side of that, is that you’re your own elusive being. You’re a Siren Princess, and he’s confident that you have your own things to do. He’s not sure what your life consists of, but he’s never going to be the man to get in the way of that and endeavor to cage the prettiest bird he’s ever seen.

The two of you have an understanding, and at the end of the day, that’s the best the young Pirate King could have ever hoped for.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I had so much fun writing this!

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🔮 preview. There are all sorts of milestones he wants to have with you, but he supposes at the end of the day, the main thing he wants is tangible progress.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, breast worship, body worship, fingering, grinding against Johnny’s hand, big dick Johnny, size kink, pussy stretching, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, wing kink, etc… I petnames. (hers) Princess.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 215

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

When Johnny had first begun to see you, it had been every couple of months. It was a no strings attached, easy sort of connection- but somehow, he’s not sure when, it began to blossom into something more.

Every couple of months became once a month, and now, in the time between seeing you, Johnny struggles. He has your special reed in his hand, and many nights are spent with him fighting the urge to call you to his side.

It’s not just the sex anymore- although, the sex is great. No, it’s an inner peace that comes when you’re near, a comfort that gives him the best sleep of his life and the clearest mind. You simply make him better, and it’s a fact that is getting harder and harder for the Pirate King to ignore.

As much as he hates to admit it to himself… it’s beginning to feel an awful lot like the Pirate King is starting to have regrets.

He’s beginning to regret his commitment to the sea, to the ship, to the crew that follows his every word. He’s starting to imagine what a life less free would look like-

If there was ever a woman who could tie him down, it would be you, and he knows it.

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girlokwhatever · 8 months ago

Note

Emily engstler x passenger princess!reader go on a road trip

can be one shot/headcannon

emily engstler x passenger princess!gf hcs

˚ · .·˚ ༘*ೃ༄ʬ꩜ emily engstler and passenger princess gf on a roadtrip,,

— it’s……. so chaotic

— she’s trying to body slam all of your bags into the trunk while you sit and watch

- you always ask if she wants help but she says no.

— once the two of you finally get on the road she’s a little more relaxed

— her hand is immediately on some part of your body

- hand, shoulder, back of your neck, thighs, anywhere she can reach tbh

— you guys listen to sapphic music together!!

- she’s always giving you the aux 🤗

— if the roadtrip is late at night she gets really sappy for some reason

- always giving some love-drunk confession

- “i can’t wait to marry you.”

- “i always felt like green was your color baby.”

- “i love it when you hum.”

— “can i have a kiss?”

- “but you’re driving?”

- “doesn’t matter.”

— she ALWAYS insists on driving

— she also always tries to pack you snacks for the road and a blanket so you can be cozy

— “oh my god that fast food is making my car stink so bad.”

- “no im pretty sure that’s your attitude stinking it up in here.”

— you need to use the bathroom every hour…..

— windows down on summer days >>>>

— “you look so pretty right now.”

— if you brought a book to read she’ll ask if you can read it out loud

— “i’m so hungry i’m gonna eat you emily.”

- “i wouldn’t mind.”

— “baby don’t put your feet on the dash, that’s dangerous.”

— even though she packs you snacks you always end up getting something at the gas station or some fast food restaurant

— you always get out of the car with her at the gas station because you just want to hold and kiss her

- it’s been awhile and you miss her

— “can i get a chip please?”

- you feed it to her 🤗

— you guys play stupid games together to help the time pass

- “ok.. lemme think. oh! ok ok i got one. she’s a ten buuuuttttt she never brushes her teeth.”

- “ew what?! gross. zero. she’s a zero.”

— you’re always taking scenic photos

— sometimes you like to video the roadtrip just for cute memories

— “babe there’s something in the road..”

- “OH SHIT”

- “OH MY GOD OH MY FUCK! DONT SWERVE LIKE THAT EM.”

— “i forgot my water so im gonna drink some of yours.”

— she tries to keep you awake as long as possible but you falling asleep is just inevitable

- will talk your ear off anyway

— emily likes to take pictures of you when you fall asleep

- when she shows you said pictures you get mad because,

- “why are you on your phone if you’re driving.”

— “you look really cozy over there…”

- “i am. thanks for noticing.”

- gives you the most diabolical side-eye

— lets not talk about that time you teased her though……. iykyk

— she likes holding your hand and kissing your knuckles

- says it helps her focus

— you like holding her hand and playing with her fingers or tracing her tattoos

— “are we almost there?!”

— you always wear fluffy socks 🤗🤗🤗

— you guys always scream song lyrics together LMAO

— “that sign says tennessee but babe.. you’re the only ten i see.”

- “please never speak again.”

— you always lean the seat all the way back

- it pisses emily off LOL

— “babe i think you need to put your shoes back on.. somethings stinks..”

-……….

- “OW! babe i was just joking.”

˚ · .·˚ ༘*ೃ༄ʬ꩜

enjoy!!!

i had to make this twice cause i accidentally swiped out right as i finished it…….. 👹

#emily engstler i love you #rea loves em #emily engstler fic #emily engstler smut #emily engstler imagine #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler blurb #emily engstler #emily engstler headcannons #wlw slay #wlw imagine #wlw post #masc lesbian #lesbian imagine #lesbian #queer #bisexual #lgbtq #lgbtqia

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beiasluv · 6 months ago

Text

lil ginger | op81

— shifter!osc, angst, lovie dovey ending?? that’s all 👹

What would you do if you see a poor lil ginger cat following on your heels? A, be a meanie and leave him alone. B, take him back.

Obviously you had to choose B.

Never being a cat person, grown up with doggos all your life, you just really don’t know how to interact with one. Sure, you’d give them little pats and all—and clicking your tongue discreetly to see how far you can get it to follow. But this one was just…different.

“Hi—” you cooed. “Are you hurt, baby?”

The ginger and cream colored cat let out a friendly-meowing squeak, seeing that it had successfully gotten your attention. He skipped up to you, and sat down at your feet, tilting his head a set of large brown eyes staring back to you.

Adorable.

So you ended up kneeling on the concrete floor, getting weird looks from passersby. Only for them to realize it was a cat, then it was socially acceptable.

“Poor you,” you cooed as you nervously plucked the twigs and dust away, not really sure how to interact with a cat without getting a scratch.

“Fuck—I am not a cat person,” you mumbled to yourself. “Can I pick you up, little guy?”

Soon enough you did manage to get ahold of the ginger in your hands, realizing it’s a boy. His little ears pinned themselves down, resting his forehead on your chest, and a loud, soft, almost-purring-like meow came from him.

He wasn’t hurt, just a little filthy.

And if he had to guess, he would assume you weren’t a cat person, with the way you were holding him. But he’d appreciate the cuddles every now and then.

There was no collar, no tags to be found. But he was fairly too clean for a stray. And maybe just a little too well behaved.

After a moment of quiet cuddling with the ginger baby, you figured his owner would be looking for him soon enough. Or maybe his mother would come and get the youngster soon.

But would you be so mean and leave him alone?

“Look, if you come with me…I’ll…um…post you somewhere so they can get you back?” He was settled back down on the hard concrete floor, only wanting to see if he would even follow you home.

It also would be cruel to take him back without a little cat-consent…right?

The cat sat himself down, and looked at you, considering your offer. He let his tail flick around the floor, smacking the ground a few times as he thought about your words.

He padded after you, and jumped back up, stretching his bean paws against your leg, as if asking you to pick him back up again.

He wanted up. He wanted attention. He was a needy little bastard.

—

“Make yourself at home…well— no scratching my couch—” you warned as you set the feline down, taking off your coat.

The cat followed a few steps behind you, but when you went into the kitchen—he started to explore.

He climbed up your couch and sniffed around, as cats do, finding your throw pillow a little too inciting. He promised he wasn’t going to do anything to mess up your place, but he was just a cat.

And cats do sniff.

Just when you set out a bowl out of water in the floor, he hopped down from the couch and started to drink, almost desperately lapping the water up— almost like a man parched in the desert.

Watching the ginger feline was almost entertaining, lying yourself on the floor— getting the same eye-level as the cat.

“Okay, your name…” you tapped your chin.

The cat stopped drinking, and looked over at you. His brown eyes followed you as you laid back on the ground, watching you almost curiously. Figuring you out.

He meowed at your words, as if asking you to ‘go on.’

“How is…Daniel? Lucas?”

The cat sat back on his haunches, and tipped his head to the side. Judging you for the names you’d chosen. He let out a soft but slightly rude sounding noise, clearly disagreeing with your choices.

“Okay, that’s a ‘no’…what about…er��Pumpkin?”

He made the same noise, but this time it was louder. Definitely didn’t like the sound of that one. He gave you a displeased look, as if telling you to pick something ‘cooler.’

“Well? I can’t read your mind, mister,” you scoffed lightheartedly. “Ginger?”

Another huff from the cat and a tail smack on the floor.

At this point, you might just well give up.

—

“Here’s the bathroom…for…your business—”

So there you were, touring the cat around, hoping you weren’t going crazy. Not with the way the cat seemed to act/look/respond like it understood what you’ve said.

“And— you, only the foot of the bed is allowed.”

You explained, crawling under the covers. Followed by ‘Ginger’ as he jumped up onto your bed. He sat at your feet, and curled up against them, watching you as you got comfy.

A very polite little guy.

He’d let out a soft, almost human sounding sigh, and seemed to settle down. Kneading the bedding once or twice just to get comfy. And occasionally would be peeking his eyes open— just to mak sure you were still there. Only to be seeing you patting the space next to your waist.

“Fine— just here. No more.”

His eyes widened as you patted at the empty space in the middle of the bed. The cat waited a moment, as if he was expecting some kind of trap. Then quickly started to make his way up the foot of the bed.

You could only guess how much comfort a few inches difference can make of a spot. But, hey, he was just a polite little fella.

You grunted as you got out the bed, fetching him a small blanket you kept in your closet.

“If you get cold.”

He looked down at the offered blanket—inspecting it closely—before pushing his head under it, and starting to burrow. He didn’t seem too cold, but he liked it.

His head poked back out from under the blanket. From under the soft material, his eyes darted up to you, waiting to see if you’d get comfortable again.

—

You woke up, feeling something heavy on your stomach. Figured it was Ginger that moved during the night, so you reached down to pet it. Expecting to feel a layer of hair, but instead you felt what felt fleshy.

When you glanced down, instead of a small cat, you saw a man’s hand resting on your stomach, attached to a muscular arm.

This was not Ginger.

“What the fuck?” You groaned, pushing yourself further to the edge of the bed— rubbing your eyes like it would help you wake up from this dream.

The hand on your stomach shifted, letting out a soft groan at his swollen lips. “…What?”

You had to shift away from him, crawling off the bed. Pressing your back against the wall behind.

“Who are you?—no—How did you get into my room?”

The owner of the hand sat up, and pushed himself into an upright position. He had quite obvious bedhead— mussed up hair sticking in several directions.

And Oh. My. God. This guy was kinda ripped.

“I...” he said, rubbing a hand over his face, still trying to shake off his drowsiness. “I…” he was at a loss for words, as he looked around dumbfounded, trying to process what just happened.

“You what?—What did you do to Ginger?”

“I am Ginger.” He defended himself, his voice going high with a hint of an Australian accent. Squinting his eyes as he saw that you didn’t believe it.

“No? You’re clearly not a cat—I am calling the cops—”

“No! Wait—!” He put his pale, strong hand out to stop you from doing so. Running his hand through his head as the seconds ticked by quickly, trying to find the right way to explain.

“Ok, look—I know it’s a lot, but let me explain first, I just need you to calm down, yeah?”

“I have a fucking man in my bed—one that I don’t know— how am I supposed to know that you won’t jump and kill me. Also.” You breathed.

“You’re claiming that you’re a cat.”

“Look, just—” he began, as he ran his hand through his mussed up bed hair, trying to flatten it down. “I am a shifter—”

Oh.

“Right..” You should’ve known.

“I’m sorry—fuck. I should’ve just left you there— I’m so sorry–”

—

“Can it be permanent?”

The doctor gave Oscar a sympathetic look, his eyebrows raising at the question.

He had seen a lot of cat shifters before, lots of hopeless cases—some of them, and Oscar’s question wasn’t the first time he had heard the same phrase.

“You want to remain in a human body permanently, Mr. Piastri?” He repeated, humming softly as he went over the patient’s history.

The Australian nodded.

“Well…I must tell you. Some shifters have had success in taking medication to help them remain in their human form longer…” He started, seeing the youngster was willing to try. “We can work on a dose and let’s see if it gets you any results,” he added, writing down on the prescription.

“Yeah, I’ll try it—”

—

“You forgot this at my place?”

That snapped Oscar back into reality. Right. He had a casual dinner planned with you at his place. After his surprisingly pleasant interaction with you that morning, he was stuck.

Sure, it was full of you investigating him with all of the shifters’ fun facts and myths. But he handled it professionally. Yes, he’s somewhat conscious in the cat body. No, he can’t really help but to give into the cat instincts.

He needed to climb things, and meow, and rub his face against you, and what not. And, no, his parents are not shifters. Was that all of the questions?

Oscar would often found himself at your place, then vice versa. Just enjoying each other’s company, really.

Not to mention that one time you visited at the ‘wrong’ moment, greeting you in his all-glorious feline state. Even that. You were still nice enough to stick around with a fussy cat.

Oh, and you brought him a lot of cat treats.

Right, the dinner.

“What?”

“I think it’s yours,” you repeated, pushing a pill bottle prescribed with his name across the counter:

Shifting Suppressants Suppress transformation into animal form. Take twice a day.

He quickly reached out for it. “Oh, right, thanks–”

“Why?” You stopped him.

Sure, you weren’t in the place to talk about what medication he should be taking, but can’t a friend look out for each other? It was painfully obvious that he had gone from ‘pale’ to almost a ‘twilight-pale’ this past month, and don’t make you get started on his under eyes.

“Osc…I don’t wanna be pushy, but…I don’t think it’s good for you.”

You can see his face turning just a touch of guilty. And he would argue that the pills were helping with lessening his shifting.

“…I just wanna stay like this, Yn.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, he didn’t want to be like this because he preferred it.

He wanted this so he could feel normal. Just being able to be there and do something for you— not a helpless ginger cat. He had spent a good portion of his life transforming but— he was afraid you wouldn’t even want a cat around for the rest of your life.

“I want to be a human when you’re around— it makes me happy this way—”

“Oh, Osc–”

You frowned admiringly, rounding the kitchen counter to capture his hand. “I like you as a cat, I like you as a human. I don’t care— You’re still…you to me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean—I don’t want to kiss a cat, but I still want to cuddle and spend time— even if you can’t talk.

But I’d still like to kiss a human, for sure.”

“…You mean it?”

“Fuck, yes, I do—”

“That’s good to know,” he smiled softly.

The next thing you knew, he was finding the courage to tug on your laced hands, closing the gap between your lips. His hand traced your jaw in all the perfect places, tugging your chin closer so he can pepper soft kisses all over your lips.

Pulling away with a cheeky smile.

“You make me want to overdose, y’know?”

Hey people, long time no see. 👹👹 HOW ARE YALL doinggg

Anyways, interacting anyway would be appreciated and, as always, today’s a good day to take care of yaself. xoxo’s

@namgification @jsjcue @c-losur3 @evie-119

#oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 #imagines #f1 imagines #f1 smau #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri one shot

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cherrythepuppet · 5 months ago

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THE ONLY ART I HAVE OF CINNAMON X TRE IS OLD AND UGLY SO IM JUST SENDING CINNAMON'S REF IM SORRY IM IN THE MIDDLE OF CLASS

YOUU ALLLLL

GIMME YOUR RAMSHACKLE SHIPPS IM GONNA DRAW THEM 🫵🗿

#ramshackle #ramshackle oc #ramshackle shipps #💝#👹#YAAAAA #Okay but my Coffespice brain rotation has not been going well #Djsntjsbtja #Exploding #TAKE YOUR TIME PLEASE #DRINK WATER #TAKE NAPS #TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF OR I WILL POP UP UNDER YO BED AND BEAT YO ASS/j

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vivwritesfics · 9 months ago

Note

Charles,ax and lando ( I have no clue how to spell the ship name lol)

After care maybe some extra about their dynamics in their relationship and in bed 👹🫶🫶🫶

LOVE YOH

Warnings: smut, dom/sub dynamics, foursome

You never really expect to have three partners, right?

Max certainly didn't

Charles certainly didn't

She and lando couldn't say they were surprised

How had it happened?

Well, that's a tough question to answer

She and Lando were together

But they both wanted dominating

It was something they couldn't provide each other with, so it had them opening up their relationship

It was unclear whether they expected it to be a one time thing

Buy they both knew that they liked the feeling of Max abd Charles, their touch, their kisses. They couldn't get enough of it

So, when it happened again, there were no complaints

The way Charles had her bouncing on his cock while Max endlessly teased Charles

The two older drivers (even though they weren't older by much) fully expected to be invited back to hers and Landos hotel room

Maybe that was why Max kissed Charles

Maybe that was why Charles kissed him back

When they were invited to the couples bed the third time, they decided that they didn't want to leave

Even after they'd pulled multiple orgasms out of the couple

Even after they'd cleaned them up, gently moving soapy loofahs over their skin, forced them to drink a glass and a half of water each, they didn't want to leave

They got the two into bed, cuddled them between them

She and lando clung onto each other, legs entwined as they snored lightly

Max played with her hair as she laid against his arm

He looked at Charles who slept behind Lando

Yeah, they weren't going anywhere

Thing's pretty easily fell into place

From the moment they woke up the next morning, they established communication

It was the only way this was going to work

At first she stayed by Lando's side constantly

Needed an extra push before she found the same sorta comfort in Max and Charles

She remembered the first time she kissed the two of them

The first time she threaded her fingers through Charles's hair

The first time she climbed into Maxs lap

It was new territories and she had her first love there to navigate it with her

The sex only got better as the four of them opened up to each other more

She and lando fell into a more submissive role in the relationship

Lando loved it

He loved being able to let someone take control

Holding her hands, kissing her slowly as Max and Charles fucked them

Aftercare though

It was their favourite

Their collective favourite

Max and Charles loved how plyable their bodies were

How easy it was to carry them to the tub

To sit them down together as they cuddled up, Charles washing their sensitive bodies while Max made the bed and got them something to drink

Once they were clean and dried, they got dressed into loose pyjamas (that Lando would definitely discard in the night) and climbed into bed

As Max and Charles showered, she and lando watched a movie,but they weren't much paying attention

Holding each other

Playing with each others hair and fingers

Coming back down

But nothing sated them more than having Max and Charles in the bed with them

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minimarvelh · 8 months ago

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Avengers: *sitting on the couch and watching film*

Peter: *got out of his room and goes into the kitchen to drink water*

Tony: hey kid, do you wanna play monopoly with us?

Peter: sure, why not

*five minutes after*

Peter, buying 10th house: you know why you’re so weak? Because you lack a killer instinct👹🔪

Steve:* carefully crawls away from Peter *

Peter: You don’t have it..you’re not a killer..you need to not only be able to kill, but..but enjoy it😈

Clint: *throws everything he got and runs*

source: tiktok moschinodorito

#Tony tearing up: that’s my kid (stabs Steve with a plastic knife) jokingly #irondad and spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #spiderman #irondad spiderson #mcu marvel avengers #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel #avengers

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mrsmangi · 9 days ago

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omg red carnation 😫

the morning after - luigi mangione

♡ flower prompt: red carnation - a moment of yearning - meaning: pale red carnations often symbolize admiration and feelings of longing for someone–often used to convey the message of ”my heart aches for you.” ♡ w.c.: 1.7k ♡ a/n: god, i love me some ANGST. 👹 listen to hozier's cover of "do i wanna know?" by the arctic monkeys as you read because that's all i listened to writing this piece. it is HEAVILY inspired by it. i love YEARNING, anon. thank you for this!! enjoy!

♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested

The mug that rests in Luigi’s hands feels unfamiliar and wrong to hold in his grasp. The ceramic is smooth and cool beneath his fingers, but the nicked rim catches slightly against his thumb. It’s a minuscule imperfection, but one that makes his chest tighten.

It’s just a mug, he thinks to himself, but the weight of it feels out of proportion. He sets it down carefully on the counter to avoid spilling the transparent golden liquid within. His thumb drifts over the rim in slow, absent circles, memorizing the curve of it and where its damage lays. It had been yours–a small, chipped thing you’d brought over to his place when you first started staying over. You always liked it.

Now, sitting at his kitchen table, Luigi feels like it may be the only tangible connection to you he has in the vast quietness of his apartment. He pushes it away, cautiously–like one wrong move might shatter the last piece of you he has left.

The morning sunlight creeps in through his blinds in sharp, golden slats, illuminating the sink, the stove, and the bare spot on the counter where your favorite jar of honey once sat. The honey you always claimed would make every tea he drank better. Now it’s gone–tossed into the trash in a fit of frustration last night, when he felt like he couldn’t bear the sight of it mocking him anymore. It’s absence doesn’t bring him the closure he thought it would. It feels more like theft, like he’s stolen something from himself that he can no longer get back.

The eggs on his plate are cold now. His toast has grown hard, the butter dried to a faint sheen. He can’t find it in himself to eat, but the ritual of cooking has felt like the only thing to keep him tied to reality. With a great sigh, he pushes himself up from the table, grabs his plate and tosses it in the trash. He moves to the sink.

His breath catches in throat when he stares into it, water dripping from the faucet. Rhythmic, almost hypnotic, but not enough to drown out the loud noise in his head.

He wonders if you’ve eaten yet. It’s nearly 11am. You always skipped breakfast unless he made it for you, claiming that coffee was enough to get you through the day–at least, until the time a late lunch or an early dinner rolls around.

Are you drinking coffee now sitting in a different kitchen? Are there ghosts that haunt you as you poke at a half-assed prepared frozen meal you’ve warmed up in the microwave? Or are you still in bed, with your face pressed into the pillow just like he was less than an hour ago? The image comes to him so vividly, he can hardly breathe.

The curve of your shoulder peeking out from beneath the blanket, hair wildly tangled and soft against your pillowcase.

Luigi wonders if you’re thinking about him like he’s thinking about you. If you’ve already poured yourself a cup of coffee this morning and let your mind wander to the weight of the mug in your hand. Are you recalling how he always scolded you for your caffeine addiction? What about the way he chided you for using both creamer and sugar, not one or the other? Maybe you’re aching for his presence just as much as he’s aching for yours, closing your eyes and trying to push it away. Maybe you’re relieved now without him–free of the weight of everything you two built and tried so hard to hold together, before it inevitably fell apart.

Luigi turns on the sink and lets the cold water run through his fingers. He stares down at the porcelain plate in his hand like it may hold the answers to all the questions he has. But it doesn’t. Nothing does, and he’s not sure anything ever will. Not knowing is worse than anything else.

Even so, Luigi continues to hope. Hope for the idea that maybe, just maybe, you’re sitting there now at your table, holding your mug, staring out at nothing, and wondering the same things about him. Hoping that no matter how far you’ve strayed from him, you still feel the weight of him lingering in the space between breaths.

The thought of you always circles back to him, no matter how hard he tries to shove it to the back of his mind. Does his name cross your name the way yours has refused to leave his? He glances over his shoulder back to the table.

His phone sits on it, heavy with dread and danger. He’s spent the entire morning thinking about picking it up, dialing your number, just to hear your voice one more time. Maybe if Luigi hears you laugh or even just say his name, the ache will dull itself, but he knows better.

The urge to call you after a few drinks last night was unbearable. He sat there on the couch in his living room with his phone in his hand, thumb hovering over your contact, trying to justify it. Maybe you were thinking about him too, after you decided to leave. Maybe you were lying awake, staring at the ceiling like he had, missing him too.

Temptation scorched him, yearning burned through him. It grew hotter and more insistent with every passing second away from you.

He had shoved his phone into his nightstand drawer and stared at it like it might leap back into his hand on its own. What a betrayal–not to you, but to himself. It felt like admitting he’d never really stopped being yours, even after everything, even after you walked out of his life.

Now, the clarity is no kinder. The thought haunts him.

If he called, would you pick up? Would you let it ring–let the silence between you stretch wider and deeper, until it becomes something unbridgeable? Fear twists in his gut, but it’s nothing compared to the longing. He tries to imagine what he’d even tell you. Something casual, maybe?

“I miss you.” Too raw.

“I’m sorry.” Too desperate.

“I love you.” Too…much.

He turns toward the table where the phone lies face down. It hasn’t buzzed. Luigi knows for a fact that it hasn’t, but his heart lurches with false hope anyway. He shuffles toward it and picks it up. It feels like tearing open a wound just to see if it will still bleed. There’s no texts from you. No missed calls. He stares at the empty screen before setting it back down with trembling hands.

He becomes hyper aware of the oppressive silence looming over his apartment, but he’s too afraid to break it. He can’t even stand to hear the sound of his own voice now. His gaze drifts to the small, framed photo in the center of the table–the one of you at the beach.

Your face is lit up with laughter because he had tried and failed to keep the wind from blowing your hair into your mouth. It had stuck to your lipgloss slightly, but he still thought you looked gorgeous. He had taken the photo on a whim, snapping it just as you turned toward him, mid-laugh, eyes sparkling. It’s his favorite picture of you by far, even now, when just looking at it feels like a knife is being driven straight through his stomach.

He picks it up, fingers brushing over the glass. Luigi can hear your laughter now, the feeling of sand beneath his feet, and the warmth of your hands in his as you pull him to the water. Now, the picture just feels like a cruel joke. A snapshot of a moment that no longer exists, a version of you he doesn’t recognize anymore. He sets it back down, face down this time.

He wonders if you’ve called your friends by now. Are they comforting you, reassuring you that you’ve made the right choice, that you’ll feel better soon? Are they already making jokes about your next “better” guy, encouraging you to move on?

The thought twists something inside of him, sharp and painful, but he knows how this goes. Luigi has been through his fair share of breakups, though none of them have ever left him feeling quite like this. Friends will tell you to keep busy, to distract yourself, to swipe right on someone new or focus on hobbies or dive into your work. Anything to keep from drowning in your sorrow. Hell, they could be doing that now.

Maybe they’re telling you you’ll find someone more stable, more exciting, less flawed. And maybe, worst of all, you’re listening to them, nodding along and pretending you’re not in pain. Are you laughing at their jokes, even if you don’t find them funny at all? His jaw tightens.

He can see it now: someone sitting across from you at breakfast, breaking their back just to try to make you laugh. Someone else taking your photo at the beach, someone else bringing you coffee and getting your order wrong because they could never know you like he does.

The idea of someone else feels impossible to Luigi. Laughable, even. He’s too caught in the moment, too tangled in the remnants of you, to even think about moving on. He doesn’t want to. The thought of someone else sitting in your chair at his kitchen table, filling the space you used to fill, feels wrong. As if the idea of trying to replace you is enough to make him completely irreparable.

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. Maybe you’re as stuck as he is, too busy being his to fall for someone new. Are you thinking of picking up your phone after having a few? He always does.

Luigi takes a seat at his table and rests his head against the cool surface of the wood. The sun is higher now, past the blockage of his blinds, casting longer shadows across the floor. He closes his eyes, letting your memory wash over him, even though the thought of you hurts impossibly so. He can still see you, hear you, feel the ghost of your touch against his skin. It’s torture, but he doesn’t want it to go away just yet.

Luigi’s ache, as unbearable as it is, is all he has left of you, pulling him back in a desperate way he can’t comprehend. He can’t unlearn crawling–inevitably, slowly, and helplessly–back to the only place his heart knows to go: you.

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beatheturtleandearthling · 3 months ago

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right, so the athena p server encouraged me to write a bit more of horrible reality and more of the new fic for the fall weight AU

The horrible reality teaser:

Narrator: The mansion is all ready for the people to live in, and they’re arriving today-and meeting each other.

Ugg(carrying a spear, in a deep, manly voice): New cave.

Susan (carrying her suitcase, notices Ugg): Oh hi! You’re vibe is so groovy man!

Ugg: *scared caveman noises* (starts running away from Susan)

Susan: “Wait, man! I didn’t mean to scare you! (chases after Ugg)

Georgiana: (looking at her servants) UGH HURRY UP, YOU HORRID, SMELLY PEASANTS!

Javez: (looks at Georgiana, appreciation, admiration and love in his eyes)

Georgiana: (looks at Javez looking at her) What are you looking at, peasant?

Javez (looking at Georgiana in love): “I-um…um… (he would turn around and run the other way)

Matilda (holding Beorthnoth’s hand): “Y’e ready Beorthnoth?”

Beorthnoth (holding Matilda’s hand) Re’dy!”

Matilda (dragging Beirthnoth, running) Le’s Go!

and a teaser for the nisaac fic:

The cool, crisp, evening November air helped the apartment become cooler than it really was. Isaac was approaching the end of his first trimester of pregnancy at 13 weeks and. Isaac and Nigel were eating supper in their small apartment and discussing baby names.

“If the baby’s a girl,” Nigel began, using his fork to scrape some extra bits of fried rice off his plate, “We name her Isabella.”

“And if it’s a boy?” Isaac asked Nigel, fixing some plain noodles onto his plate.

“Jack.” Nigel answered Isaac’s question.

“Not liking the first one,” Isaac began, eating some of his noodles, muffling the next part of his response, “But Jack is an option.”

“Oh come on!” Nigel complained about Isaac’s response to the first one, “Like you could do better?”

“Well,” Isaac accepted the challenge, “I have Melody.” Isaac tasted another bite of his noodles, tasting something was off.

“Say,” Isaac began to change the topic, “do the noodles taste funny to you?”

Nigel tasted some of the noodles. “Yes,” he agreed with Isaac, “the noodles are starting to taste funny.”

Isaac stopped eating his noodles, and put his hands on his pregnant stomach, “That’s okay.” He began, putting his two hands on his pregnant stomach and rubbing it, “I was starting to feel full anyways.”

Nigel stopped eating his rice and went to Isaac’s side and knelt by Isaac, putting a hand on Isaac’s stomach. “Full?” He asked Isaac, gently patting Isaac’s stomach, “I never thought you got full!”

Isaac chuckled, “You’ve seen me full!” He told Nigel, remembering Thanksgiving, “You remember when I ate all that turkey?”

Nigel chucked, rubbing Isaac’s pregnant stomach, “Oh do I?” he began, “You legit looked like you were 4 months pregnant after!”

Isaac laughed, “And I felt like it too,” Isaac added, “I was so bloated-and oh my god indigestion was legit torturing me. I’m so sorry for making you put up with that”

“It was worth every minute of it,” Nigel told Isaac, “you having nothing to be sorry for.”

#cbs ghosts #horrible histories #isaac higgintoot #nigel chessum #ghosts cbs #ghosts us #nisaac #horrible histories animated characters #horrible histories fanfic #horrible reality teasers #horrible reality #yeah im taking fanfic requests #DRINK WATER👹👹👹

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tightjeansjavi · 9 months ago

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The Rite of Movement | drabble

“Daddy’s not bluffing, baby love”

A/N: you know you’re super dedicated when you find yourself at home ✨practicing✨ just so that the smut makes sense and is easy to visualize 👹 and just when I thought that Joel and baby love couldn’t get any nastier…😮‍💨 oh, and just in case anyone gets confused with the addition of Ellie, this is after she’s adopted (spoilers, but not really bc she’s Joel’s kid in every universe let’s be real)

~word count: 2.0k~

Summary: Ellie is away at Dina’s for the weekend leaving you and Joel with the house completely to yourselves

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: smut, established relationship. reader and Joel are pornstars, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her 30’s, big ole fat daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv, big dom energy from Joel, baby love is acting like brat, sexual punishment, spanking, degrading language but it’s hot, okay?, use of slut, brat, etc, semi-public sex, voyerism (Tommy), language, mentions of alcohol, Ellie exists in this universe!!, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is baby love, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

Ellie was away for the weekend with Dina and her family leaving you and Joel with the house completely to yourselves…which was a rare occurrence these days.

You and Joel have since then moved the home studio back to the Miller-Co office. You aren’t doing much filming these days, anyway. This was a mutual decision, and this also gave Tommy the opportunity to show Joel that he could handle the business on his own come the day that you and Joel would eventually retire. But with Ellie gone for the weekend, you and Joel had the time to relax and that’s how you found yourselves spending the morning by the pool.

Joel was comfortably laying poolside, cheaters perched on his nose that was buried in the book he was reading that Ellie had recommended to him. Artemis was laying by his feet, bathing in the sun while you were lounging in the pool. You had discarded your bikini top to the pool's edge to avoid any tan lines while you were lounging on your stomach along one of the extremely comfortable, and extra durable inflatables.

Artemis had grown curious of the water as she watched you float by, and before Joel could stop her, she hopped down from the chair and trotted over to the pool's edge. She was an agile little thing, having no problem jumping right onto your bare back and curling up against your warm, sunbathed skin.

Joel shook his head, muttering under his breath as he reached for his phone so he could take a picture while you reached one hand behind your back to give her a few gentle pets.

He posted the photo to his instagram with the caption: my two sun babies 🌞💓

Ellie had texted the family group chat immediately when she saw the photo:

I hope you’re disinfecting the pool before I get home 🙄

Joel: shouldn’t you be off your phone and paying attention to Dina, kiddo? 🤔

Ellie: u text like an old man lol

Baby Love: lol. He does

Tommy: where was my invite?

Joel: I do not text like an old man 😡

-to Tommy: inappropriate

Ellie: do too 🤭

Tommy: inappropriate that I wanna come over and swim?? Get ur head out of the gutter lol

Joel: do not

Baby Love: you’re not gonna win this one, baby.

Ellie: see, even mom agrees!

Joel: there’s too many gals in this household 🙄

Ellie: yea, man! Ur outnumbered lol

Joel: don’t I know it

Tommy: I’m coming over

Joel: no you’re not

Baby Love: can you bring a case of Modelo’s?

Ellie: I don’t think Tommy knows what those are lol

Joel: how would you know what those are? 👀

Ellie: did I say something?

Tommy: why can’t u just be normal and drink Coors Lite lol

Joel: don’t start gaslighting me young lady

Baby Love: because unlike u, I have taste

Ellie: ooooh burn

Tommy: ouch 😓 I thought we were friends!

Joel: 😒

Ellie: I’m more of a Modelo gal myself

Joel: ELLIE

Baby Love: that’s my girl!

-to Tommy: we are friends 🩷 you just have shit taste in beer

Joel: where are u getting beer from

Ellie: that’s none of your beeswax

Joel: Ellie Miller, I will ground your ass so fast the second you get home

Baby Love: it was me. I’m the culprit

Tommy: I don’t forgive u

Ellie: don’t punish mom! She said I can drink as long as I’m safe 😇

Tommy: lol I’m not coming over, I changed my mind!

Baby Love: but my Modelos :(

Joel to Baby Love in a private chat:

“Who the fuck do you think you’re callin’ a pussy?!” He growled from the chair, completely sitting up now with his legs swung over the side just as you quickly tucked your phone underneath your left boob and looked over your shoulder at him with a faux innocent expression on your face.

“I am, pussy.”

“Wanna say that a third time?” He challenged you, standing up with his hands planted on his hips as he approached the edge of the pool. Even Artemis sensed the tension rise so she quickly hopped off your back as soon as the raft was close to the pool's ledge.

“Artie.” You frowned, “come back. Daddy’s only messing! He’s not actually gonna do anything!” You grabbed your phone from under your boob and carefully placed it on the pools ledge so it wouldn’t get wet, and just as you were about to push the raft back to the middle of the pool to float away, Joel hand crouched down and grabbed ahold of the corner of the raft, yanking you towards him.

“I said, wanna say that a third time?” He snipped.

Oh he’s mad now, alright.

You let out a huff, rolling over onto your back so your bare tits were on full display with your arms languidly crossed behind your head as you peered up at him through your sunglasses, smirk plastered on your pretty lips, “daddy’s a pussy and he’s not gonna do anything about it.” You chimed.

“Fuckin’ little brat.” He muttered as he pushed your raft away from the ledge before he dove in underneath it.

You quickly flipped over onto your stomach, pathetically attempting to paddle away just as he resurfaced with his face inches away from your dangling ankles. You let out a playful squeal when he nibbles on your calf as his big hands and broad arms easily slide up your thighs, thumbs looping through the flimsy strings that are barely holding your bikini bottoms together. Even in the deep end of the pool, Joel is standing, more like…looming over the raft and casting a dark shadow over your bare back.

“Don’t think ya heard me the first time, baby love.” He rasps, yanking your bikini bottoms down swiftly over your ass and thighs, “said that you had ‘bout five seconds to take these flimsy ass bikini bottoms off before I did it for you.” He tuts, grasping the outside of your thighs as he pulls you further down the length of the raft as if you’re just a measly rag doll. “And then what do ya do?” He asks, not needing a response.

“You call me a fuckin’ pussy.” He bends over, harshly biting at your left cheek, leaving visible indentations in your skin from his canines, “slutty little brat my girl is, hmm?” He teases, biting down on the right cheek as you let out a squeal.

He pulls back, marveling at his work before he brings the palm of his hand down against the meatiest part of your left cheek hard enough to send your back arching in surprise. He watches your plush skin recoil before he does it again, and then the same to the right cheek.

“I’m—I’m sorry, daddy! You aren’t a pussy! Not even close to being one!”

“You ain't sorry, baby love. Cus’ this is what you wanted all along, right? Wanted your daddy to come in here and teach his bratty little slut a lesson? Well, your wish is comin’ true!” He chuckles, using his thumbs to spread your cheeks apart before he spits a glob of saliva between them, watching it drool and drip between your ass and thighs. “Show me your fuckin’ pussy, baby love. Be a good girl now for daddy.”

“Yes, daddy.” You mewled, “you got me. It was my plan all along.” you suppress a giggle, lifting yourself up on your elbows as you spread your thighs apart, arching your back further so he had a clear and direct view of your pussy. “You gonna give my pussy a kiss daddy? I’m really sorry.” He doesn’t need to see your face to know that you’re pouting.

He scoffs, dropping his hands down from your ass to spread you open further. He intently watches the way your little hole pulses under his harsh stare, begging for any form of stimulation. “You think I’m gonna give your pussy a kiss, baby love? Think you deserve that?” He snickers, leaning in to drag his nose right through your slick folds, inhaling deeply before he pulls back, “think you oughta just take whatever daddy fuckin’ gives ya, sweet girl.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, dropping your head between your shoulders, “Daddy, please. I’m so sorry for calling you a pussy! I’ll—I’ll never do it again, I swear!”

“Hush up, baby love. Quit your whinin’ and take what daddy fuckin’ gives you.” He growled. It was a miracle that even with his added weight to the float, the damn thing didn’t pop from the pressure as he wasted no time to slip two of his thick fingers inside of your pussy till they were knuckle deep with his palm pressing flat between the apex of your thighs. You felt the weight of his chest and shoulders pressing into your back while his fingers shallowly thrusted inside of you at a merciless pace, scissoring you open with each thrust, creating ripples in the water below the raft.

O—oh—oh fuck! Fuck! Fuccck!” You cried out, lurching forward as his fingers pistoned inside of you, “daddy, please! Please! I’m sorry!” Your eyes rolled back in your skull when he crooks his fingers, curling them against the spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing spots of stars cloud your vision.

He’s leaned over you completely now in a possessive manner. His lips at your ear, teeth nipping and biting anywhere they can, “if you’re a good fuckin’ slut for daddy, maybe he’ll reward you with his cock, because you and I both know that’s what my girl wants is her daddy’s thick cock splittin’ her in fuckin’ half. Ain’t that right, baby love?”

“YES!” You yelled, voice strained and on the verge of cracking as you started to roll your hips back against his hand, meeting the harsh thrusts of his fingers just as the back gate opened—

“Hey! I brought the Modelos—OH FUCK!” Tommy yelled in surprise, nearly dropping the case of beer in his arms at the sight of you coming undone around Joel’s fingers.

“GOD DAMMIT, TOMMY! I FUCKIN’ SAID YOU COULDN’T COME OVER!” Joel snapped, thrusting his fingers faster as he briefly glanced over his shoulder at his brother, “can’t ya damn well see I’m a little busy punishin’ my girl for bein’ a fuckin’ brat?!”

You weakly waved in Tommy’s direction, before completely giving into the pleasure with a blissed out look plastered on your face, “pass me one of those when we’re done! I’m parched!”

“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ parched alright.” Joel growled against your ear.

“Some things never change, ain’t that right Artie?” Tommy snickered as he attempted to crouch down and pet her, but she hissed and swatted at his hand.

“TOMMY!” Joel snapped, using his freehand to push his swim trunks over his hips so that he could replace his fingers with his cock. “Make yourself useful and gimme one of those beers, would ya!” He spit into his palm as his cock sprang free and slapped up against his stomach. He gave the base of his cock a few quick pumps before he slipped his fingers out of you, your pussy made a wet squelching noise as he slowly fed you his cock, inch by inch, stretching you open till he was bottomed out with his hips firmly pressed against your ass. The float had deflated considerably, but man, it was a trooper.

Tommy walked over, beer in hand, doing his best to not smirk at the scene unfolding before him as he held the beer out in Joel’s direction. “What did she do this time?” He mused.

Joel snatched the beer from his hand, twisting the cap off with his teeth before he took a swig, bringing his freehand down against your ass.

“I called him—fuck.” You moaned deeply, lip harshly taken between your teeth when he stretched you open. God, did you love your man’s cock.

“She called me a fuckin’ pussy.” Joel snapped his hips forward with his hand acting as an anchor around your hip. He took another swig from the bottle, blunt fingernails digging into your skin, “now fuck yourself on daddy’s cock like the good little slut that you are, baby love.”

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