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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months ago

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Full And Filling

King John x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 10: Toys

Summary: The King receives a gift.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing!

Warnings: kissing, pet names, dildo (anal - m!receiving), p in v sex, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1755

“And what’s in this one?” You ask, lightly touching the edge of the gilded box.

The King shrugs, “Some things Lord Bateman brought back from his travels.”

You smile, lightly teasing, “More gifts?”

He tuts at you, but it’s playful. “Cannot the King of the realm be bestowed with gifts from his subjects who belove him?”

You snort, giving him a look from where he’s reclining on the sofa in front of the fire. “Subjects who would like to get on your good side, you mean.”

He grins and waves his hand dismissively. “He’s already on my good side.”

“And he wants to stay that way,” you smile and gesture to the several boxes littering the table, his desk, and floor. “And this is only a fraction.”

The King shrugs, snuggling down in the seat as he smiles wickedly. “I like gifts.”

“I know you do.”

You turn back to the box, you’re not sure why this one in particular is drawing your attention. There are more beautifully and luxuriously decorated ones.

“You can open it.” John yawns, stretching. “I haven’t looked inside most of them yet.”

“Are you sure, Your Highness?”

He pouts, blinking at you. “I told you not to call me that when you’re here with me.”

“I like the expression you make.” You tease and he tries to scowl and not smile.

He sits up, leaning on his arms to watch as you open the box.

There are a few things inside. First, wrapped in silks is an ornate glass vial of a thick, clear liquid. You admire it for a moment before you put it back down.

“A drink?” The King asks.

You shake your head, “I’m not sure.” and unwrap another item. You chuckle in spite of yourself.

“What is it?” He asks, his head tilted to the side in interest.

“Lord Bateman has an interesting taste in gifts.”

He raises an eyebrow.

You turn and hold out the object to him. It’s smooth, polished wood that almost feels like glazed pottery in your hands. A perfectly carved, large, cock with a solid base at the bottom.

To your surprise, and absolute delight, a flush runs across the King’s skin, reddening his cheeks. His mouth opens a little, his eyes widening.

“Oh, is this the kind of thing you used to do with Lord Bateman?” You grin, glee bubbling in your chest as you goad him.

“I… it was not.” He doesn’t sound very convincing.

“Oh, it is.” You’re unable to stop yourself. Suddenly the liquid in the vial makes much more sense. You grab hold of it in your left hand, the phallus in your right, and step towards the King.

He watches as you move around and stand directly in front of him. You hold out the wooden sculpture, wiggling it ever so slightly.

He swallows. His eyes dark.

“It must be for you.” He says, his voice quiet, softer than usual.

You shake your head. “Oh, I don’t think so.” You smile, leaning towards him. “I think this is especially for you.”

He holds your gaze, shifting a little. “How?” He asks, knowing the answer. His mouth dry.

“Inside.” You say softly, sitting down on the edge of the sofa and leaning closer, your chest touching his.

“Inside?”

You nod. “Inside.”

He groans, biting his lip and titling his jaw up. He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you closer, using your little gasp of surprise to lick into your mouth greedily.

You kiss him back fiercely, trying your best to keep up with him. He trails his lips down to your jaw, sucking at your neck and pushing his fingers under your clothing.

You moan his name, low and needy, and he chuckles. He takes the vial and cock from your hands, throwing them to the side, as he sits up and pulls you into his lap.

It’s dizzyingly fast how quickly he pulls your clothing from you, and you're thankful for the warmth of the fire and heat from his body.

He groans as you squirm against him, nips at the spot just below your ear as he runs his fingers along your core.

“Seems you like the idea of me having things inside.” He chuckles into your skin as he spreads the wetness between your legs up to your clit.

You jump, grabbing hold of his shoulders. Your mouth open to speak. But you don’t get the chance.

He pushes two of his thick fingers inside you greedily, his mouth agape and watching you intently as you gasp and whine.

“That’s it, that’s it.” He soothes, rocking his painfully hard cock against your leg. He grins when you whine, arching into his touch. “I know, I know, feels so good, doesn’t it?”

He curls his fingers as he rubs your clit with his thumb, stroking your walls in a motion that is ingrained into his memory.

“Your Highness,” You breathe, unable to stop your voice from rising in pitch at the end.

The King moans, the air catching in his throat. “Not playing fair, my love.” He rocks against your thigh harder as he speeds up his fingers, stroking you expertly to rush you towards your pleasure.

Your legs burn and shake as you chase the rhythm of his hand. Your breathing growing louder as you tease and pulse around him.

“Wait, wait,” he says softly, his eyes dark and lidded.

You bite your lip, somehow managing to slow your hips as he pulls his fingers from your heat. You whine softly and he strokes your cheek with his free hand as he licks your slick from the other.

“One moment, my love. I promise.” He groans, his eyes rolling back at the taste.

He gently urges you off him and into the sofa before he quickly strips and takes hold of the wooden dildo and vial. He opens the bottle, pouring the liquid liberally onto the sculpted cock.

He bites back a moan when he sees you watching. “Here,” his voice is strained, weak, as he passes you the base and settles back against the sofa, one foot on the cushions the other on the floor so that he is spread wide and open to you.

“Please,” he says softly. “In here.” He slides his hand along his thigh to his opening, watching you with needy eyes.

You don’t need to be told twice.

Gently you press the tip against him, pushing gently.

He gasps, throwing his head back for a second as you tease his entrance, pressing against the tight ring of muscle. “Harder, I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can.” You tease and he gives you a wicked glare. You wait until he breathes in to speak before you push firmer, finally breaching him with the bulbous head.

He moans loudly, grabbing hold of your arm and nodding rapidly. “More.”

“Greedy.” You mutter and he nods.

“Oh, so greedy for you. For everything that you can give.” He whines at the end as the cock slides in deeper, deeper, deeper.

You watch in awe, marvelling at how it disappears into him. How his heavy cock twitches and pulses with every inch he takes.

“Oh god,” he moans, his voice musical as the base finally settles flat against him.

“How does it feel?”

“Wonderful, wonderful,” he shifts his hips a little, squeezing experimentally before he sits up slightly and urges you back into his lap. “Not as wonderful as it’s about to feel though.” He gasps as he eagerly spreads your lips with his hand while he guides his aching cock inside you.

He notches his tip at your entrance and licks his lips. “Now you were so gentle, and took your time with me, my love.” He strokes his hand up to your waist. “Too kind. But I know you can handle this much faster.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer as he rams up, grabbing you and forcing you down at the same moment.

You let out a soft cry, your eyes closing as the sensation of him filling you cracks up your spine so suddenly. You whine his name, grabbing hold of his shoulders as he bucks and fucks into you at a brutal pace.

“So, so, good, my love.” He swears, pistoning his hips, slamming up into your heat and then down onto the dildo. Pleasure sparks along his skin at the twin sensations, making him whine and shudder.

He hits so deep, his movements breaking you apart so easily, like he has etched the spot to please you into his muscles.

“That’s it, that’s it.” He groans as you pulse around him, your walls squeezing him and sucking him deeper. “My love, oh god,” he closes his eyes as they roll back, biting his lip as sweat beads on his forehead and between your bodies.

You hold onto him for dear life, unable to hold back your cries of pleasure as he keeps pushing you closer and closer with every rock and deep grind of his hips.

He pulls you in for a searing kiss, swallowing your moans like they held the secrets of the universe. “My love,” he groans, the strain of holding off his orgasm clear in his voice. “I wish for you to fill me and be filled by me every day, every moment. Need you more than air, more than anything. I-”

Your own cry cuts him off. Liquid pleasure races through your veins, alights every nerve as you pulse and sob, riding out your high on top of him before the strength is robbed from your bones by the force of your orgasm.

The King moans, trying to watch you as you tense and come all over his cock. But he’s unable to stop himself from succumbing to his own pleasure. He thrusts twice before he comes deep, keeping you both pressed as close to each other as possible as he fills you.

He lays back fully on the sofa, pulling you on top of him and fully against his chest. He kisses the top of your head and you press your lips to his skin.

After a few moments you lift your head, a cheeky smile on your face. “May I ask a question, Your Highness?”

He frowns a little, knowing you are up to something. “Yes.”

“Is the carved cock perhaps modelled after Lord Bateman’s-”

He growls and you squeal as he wraps one arm around you tight and tickles your side with the other.

Thank you for reading!

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#king john #robin hood #robin hood 2010 #king john x reader #x reader #king john x you #x you #king john x female reader #x female reader #king john x f!reader #x f!reader #king john x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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pygmi-cygni · 1 month ago

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Spilled Milk

summary: you realize your husband might be a little spoiled.

I don't think you guys realize how tempted I was to use the king john gif from the animated robin hood because lmao.

cw: john being an annoying brat, free use? but not smut, mentions of sex, imma put this at a spicy rating because nothing that sexy happens, just a bit of touching and kissing.

"John, would you- stop it, I'm in the middle of something," you scolded, dropping a quill as you felt a familiar pair of hands shove under your dressing gown. The warm, sleepy mound of a man ignored you and continued his mission, slumping over you once he was fully groping your soft form. You rolled your eyes and patted his hair affectionately.

"Want," he mumbled, nipping a little too hard under your ear. You sighed.

"Maybe a please, dear?"

"No."

He tugged at the laces of your dress, grumbling when they got stuck. You swatted his hands away, ignoring his scowl.

It was barely morning and you'd just gotten dressed. The chambers were roasting - John couldn't sleep if it felt less than mid-July and you hated the heat. Deciding to do your writing in the library, you basked in the cool air of downstairs.

Clearly, this had not satisfied all parties.

John had dragged a quilt around himself with nothing else, the nerve and waltzed downstairs, groaning loud enough to wake the staff.

"If you vowed to love me till death, why are you betraying me?" He groused, resolving to press as close to your back as possible. The dramatics were in full force this morning, apparently.

"I'm not betraying you, John, it's seven in the morning. Get dressed, dearest."

Again at breakfast, he got up from his end of the table and walked over, planting a big wet kiss on your mouth. You were halfway through chewing. Yelping, you pushed his face away and coughed delicately into your napkin.

"Wh-"

Reclaiming his prize, John not-very-subtly reached his hand to your thigh, stroking as he kissed your jaw. The waitstaff looked politely away. Once his craving had been sated and your reputation sufficiently tarnished, John returned to his seat and finished his meal.

"John Lackland," you sputtered, utensils limp in your hands. He looked up from his bowl and paused, taking in your furiously disheveled appearance. A moment of tense silence.

"Do not ever-"

"I do like it when you say my name, darling." With that piece de resistance, he pushed away from the table and strode off, airily announcing he had a hunting date with a lord in Loxley.

One of the senior maids eyeballed you as she cleaned up. You sat, jaw clenched in tense focus, before smiling politely and walking briskly to your chambers.

John would be gone the rest of the day, thankfully leaving you to enjoy your day without interruption.

Good. You had things to do.

He'd found you hours later, reading in the garden. You heard his loud, strong strides crunching along the path and continued to read, counting the seconds until your cloak was pulled of your shoulders.

"Hello, flower," he purred, diving his sweaty head of curls into your neck. Christ alive, he was filthy.

"Have you bathed?" you asked chidingly, tugging a leaf out of his curls. He mumbled noncommittally and kissed you regardless. It was a sweet, pleasant kiss that warmed the tips of your fingers. A chilly breeze blew through the vale, rustling the rosebushes.

"I'm cold," he complained, "why are you reading outside?"

"I like the fresh air."

"But I can't kiss you outside." His dark blue eyes were pinched and frustrated with your resilience.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm cold," he enunciated. You scoffed and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Go bathe, John, I'll be inside soon."

He stood, dumfounded by your lack of affection. Of course you wanted to hold him and kiss him, but it was the afternoon, and you had things to do, and he could wait a damn second. And, his expression was funnier than any jester you'd invited for a gala.

You raised your eyebrow and pinched his cheek. "Run along, the water won't be getting any warmer."

While he strode off grumpily to clean up, you hurried to the bedroom. You had some things to prepare.

You sat on the bed, back to the door, a knowing smile on your face. John always took his baths in the evening, because he liked to take a 'nightcap' right after. Obviously, this would ruin the cleanliness, forcing him to take a bath in the morning, prompting another session, which...well, you get the idea.

A great yawn came from the adjoining washroom, and John waltzed up to the bed, bare naked and grinning like a coyote. His warm, damp cheek nestled against yours, and you felt the hard planes of his chest against your shoulders while he played with your hair.

"I've finished my bath," he announced, chin held high. Snorting, you put aside your embroidery and scratched his chin.

"Yes, how noble of you. Did you wash behind your ears?"

He sent you a sour look, prompting another giggle.

"Don't mother me," he groused, hands worming under your nightgown. He sighed contentedly, palms cupped warmly over your breasts. You inhaled sharply and shivered at the pleasant feeling. John's rough hands smoothed appreciatively over your waist, and you could feel his lips sucking at your neck.

You let him have his fun, then abruptly pulled away. A slight twinge of regret at the loss of his warm body, but his affronted expression made up for it.

"John, it's evening. You need to dress for bed," you said gently, adjusting your nightgown.

He blinked, confused.

"John-"

"Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?" His eyes were narrowed and he folded his brawny arms over his chest. The sight of his golden skin made you falter momentarily, eyes skating downwards.

You sat further away, pushing a smile from your cheeks. When he reached for you and you retreated, his lip curled, slightly amused.

"Are you playing games, flower? Well, my legs are longer and-"

"If you don't dress for bed, I'll never touch you again for as long as I live."

He gasped, eyes burning in an offended scowl. You wished to take it back, the bewildered hurt in his eyes was endearing. John stood, naked and scolded, for a moment, until he complied. Stomping to the dresser, he threw open the doors and yanked out a linen shirt. You watched with baffled amazement as he dressed in record time, slamming drawers and dropping obscenities.

Huffing, he stood at the foot of your bed, face twisted in a pout. You bit your lip, unable to resist.

"Your buttons are wrong, my love."

"Oh, damn it all to-aaagh," he fussed, fumbling for his neckline and wrenching the buttons closed. You grinned primly from under the coverlet, eyes glittering in the candlelight. John, finally righted, stomped over and shoved himself under the covers. He hesitated, then turned completely away from you.

You watched his still-wet curls soak the pillowcase. After a moment of silence, you began to worry. Inching closer, you rested a hand on his forearm.

"John?" Your voice was light, caring. He huffed and scooted away, nearly hanging off the bed.

"You'll fall off, silly thing, come here," you tugged him backwards. He held strong for a moment, but relented when you stroked his hair. A terrific sigh blew up his bangs, and he cast you with a dramatic eye roll.

"Why am I being persecuted?" He asked, voice petulant. Ah yes, what a reasonable man. Persecuted, he says.

"I'm not mad at you, John," you started, ruffling his curls fondly. His scowl melted a bit as you spoke gently. "There's just some...things we need to work out."

He pursed his lips, suspicious, but let you continue.

"You have a habit, dear. A very...tactile habit, and one that usually I enjoy-" he smirked- "but really, John? At breakfast?"

Realizing you were genuinely trying to convince him of something, he begrudgingly straightened up, curls matted and sticking up. You paused in your attention for a second, letting him ponder over the idea.

"All that to say," you continued, gauging his blank stare, "if you could contain your attention to this room, that would be just fine. But you've gotten a bit greedy in the out-of-doors, and people talk." You kissed his cheek softly and smiled at the flush across his nose.

John scowled.

"But love," he whined, "am I to just look at you all other hours of the day?"

You shrugged, nestling back under the covers. "You'll piece it together, dearest. Now turn over, I'm tired."

He was quiet then, the subtle muttering of his crossness just noticeable over the crickets outside.

You felt something warm and distinctly damp shove itself under your nightgown. Shrieking, your eyes shot open and you pushed his face away from your chest.

"John-"

"We are in this room, are we not?" His eyes sparkled mischievously and he winked. "And I haven't had my dessert."

You rolled your eyes, smiling in defeat. "I suppose."

A barrage of tickling kisses was pressed to your ribs, cascading the both of you in laughter.

tags!! comment to join xox ty for reading

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

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#robin hood 2010 #king john x reader #fanfiction #x reader #fluff #banter #fem reader #prince john #oscar isaac characters #fanfic

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ivystoryweaver · 9 months ago

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pick your character oscar poll

I'm out of options! "All of the above" is boringgggg. If you have someone more creative, or different answer for each pic, just hit a button for fun and tell me in the tags! (Such as "Outcome 3 lives!" which might be my fave)

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac polls #oscar isaac characters #duke leto atreides #poe dameron #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #jonathan levy #rydal keener #santiago garcia #anselm vogelweide #king john #abel morales #richard muñoz #polls

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my-secret-shame · 5 months ago

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#king john #king john edit #robin hood #robin hood edit #robin hood 2010 #prince john #prince john edit #oscar isaac #oscar isaac edit #q #has this been done before? i don't know if i have new thoughts anymore of it they are just recycled #my stupid edit #(affectionate)

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casinocarpediem · 7 months ago

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I just want him to sit on my face is that so much to ask😭😭😭😞😞 #oscarisaacmalnourishment

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boredzillenial · 1 year ago

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Day 3: of @flightlessangelwings fawktober!

King John upholds his scandalous reputation and takes what he wants.

Themes: DEAD DOVE - DNE, degradation through Exhibitionism, hurt no comfort, Dub-con/non-con, power imbalance, mentions of blushing, f!reader servant, pinv, creampie, oral f!receiving, cuckholding if you squint

A.N: I do not condone any of this - this is a safe place to explore kink and erotica as writers and readers, not beta read, cranked out in a couple hours when struck by inspiration, exhibitionism is not my usual thing so lemme know what y’all think!

Word count: 1267

You knew as you headed into the castle the reputation of your new master. That his beauty was the only thing to rival his cruelty.

You had hoped that keeping your head down, keeping quiet, and keeping out of the way would save you from his wicked nature. Your hopes were dashed on your first meeting.

He lay sprawled in bed, a concubine beside him and his cock laying limply across his stomach.

He sat up to watch you as you moved about the room, his length springing to life as he watched your figure move silently about the chamber.

You managed to get about halfway through your morning tasks before he slipped out of bed and came up behind you, rutting against the curve of your ass as you bent over. Your panic sent you reeling forward away from him as a wicked grin spread across his face.

“You’re a quiet one…” he observed, stepping closer. You shimmied out of the way and ran out of his chambers, catching your breath in the hall.

The next day you found his chambers empty, sighing with relief for a moment as you go about your chores. As you emptied a basin of water out of the window you felt him come up behind you again, pinning you against the stone windowsill.

You felt him lean forward, his breath fanning across the back of your neck as he murmured, “quiet girl, I’m gonna make you scream.”

He threw your skirts up around your waist and rutted against you, your body betraying you and soaking against the pressure of him sliding into you. He moved slowly at first, drawing out his movements to pull anything out of your throat more than a soft whimper.

He huffed and began to move faster after a few moments of failing to make you so much as groan. The sound of him slapping against you echoing in the stone chamber as you got your hand up to your mouth to stifle your cries.

“No!” He huffed as he yanked your arms behind you, using them as added leverage as he slammed harder. “Nothing still?” He growled and you grit your teeth together and swallowed as much noise as you could.

“I love a challenge.” He growled and kicked your feet apart. Adjusting his grip he held both your hands in one and with the other he snaked around finding your clit and circling roughly. You couldn’t fight your body’s urge to arch back as you cried out, the sound echoing in the street below. “That’s it!” He he laughed cruelly as he continued to pound into you, sending you reeling and your knees nearly buckling as he ripped your orgasm from you and planted his own deep in your channel.

By the time he was finished you clung to the windowsill and managed to keep your shaky legs under you. You glanced out of the window as you adjusted your skirts, seeing a couple of weary guards looking around for the source of the cries they’d just heard. Shame peppered your face pink as you ducked out of his chambers and continued about your day, his hot spend and your slick slowly trickling down your thighs.

You made yourself scarce the rest of the day, breathing a sigh of relief as you saw him ride out with most of his knights the following morning.

In the weeks he was gone, you grew close to a young knight he had left behind, well mannered, strong but soft spoken, and he had even made his intentions known to start courting you. You thought your luck had changed until one chilly morning you heard the distant thrum of hoofbeats. The King had returned…

You nervously helped carry food to the long ornate breakfast table. Praying that keeping with the cooks and his long travels would have him too tired to try anything.

You flinched and backed away as the doors to the hall slammed open. The King threw his helmet down as he stamped inside, grime and sweat from the road caked his armor as anger etched the contours of his face. “Out! All of you!” He shouted.

You courtesied and moved to leave with the other maidservants till you felt his grip on your wrist. “Not you.” He growled, pointing at the seat beside him.

You felt as if your heart was going to leap out of your throat as you sat beside him. He began tearing into the food laid before him. Taking a bite then throwing whatever he was holding aside. “No. No. No!” He threw his plate aside, “What the hell has happened to the cooks since I’ve been away.” He grumbled, his lips tilted in a wicked grin as he looked over to you. “Now, there’s a meal...”

You gulped as you tucked your legs tighter against one another. In one swift motion he hoisted you out if your chair onto the table. Pulling your legs apart and shoving your chest hard enough to press your back into the wood. He yanked you roughly toward him and locked his arms around your legs as he dove his face under your skirts. Nibbling and licking like a man starved, up your thighs to your center.

He licked and sunk his tongue deep into your cunt, drawing out the slickness and relishing in it. His low rumble and moans of pleasure vibrated through you and sent your mind into a haze. He truly was eating you for his own pleasure but you couldn’t help reaching the edge after many a night with only your own touch that left you unsatisfied.

“Your grace.” You heard someone’s voice clear as you looked to see some of his knights standing awkwardly in the doorway. Shame rushed through you like wildfire as you lay locked in the king’s grip.

He pulled his head out from under your skirts, eyes half lidded with lust and face soaked from your wetness. He drew a hand over his mouth and wiped some of your slickness on the ornate cloth lining the table. “Can’t you see I’m eating?” His tone a warning to the men awkwardly watching your horrified expression unfold.

You locked eyes with the knight you had been courting, cheeks blazing as you saw his hand reach for the pommel of his sword.

“And what, pray tell, do you think you’re doing.” John spat at the young knight. “Best you leave before I make you stay and watch me take what’s mine. And leave the door open on your way out!” He dove back under your skirts, this time biting up your supple thighs. Drawing yelps and cries from you to make his point known.

The young knight released his sword and stormed out along with the others. Leaving you sprawled across the table at John’s mercy. Weary eyes peaked in through the open doorway as the king had his fill of his choice of breakfast. Shuffling away quickly but their expressions would be plastered in your minds eye for weeks to come.

You had never come so hard or so many times as that morning, and John reinvigorated his cruel reputation as your overstimulation turned you into a twitching babbling mess sprawled across the table. Never stopping despite your pleas till he was fully satisfied. Once he was done he stood slowly, smiling down at the mess he’d made of you and glancing at the open door. “Be sure I start every morning like this.” He cooed as he leaned over you and wiped his face on your skirts.

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Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @lunar-ghoulie @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#fawktober2023 #oscar isaac characters #Robin Hood king John #totally had his name as John the whole time #king john

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the-oscar-isaac-collective · 4 months ago

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Hello everyone!!

We're looking for bonus contributors to join us in finishing this project!

If you missed the initial deadline back in February and wished you'd joined, now is your chance! There are plenty of characters to work on for both artists AND writers.

Just send us a message here before September 1st if you're interested! As long as you're 18+ and have an interest in Oscar Isaac then you can join!

Back to Mod and Contributor Masterlist

Coffee & Cream Masterpost

The Oscar Isaac Collective Masterpost

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flawless-v1ctory · 1 year ago

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Oscar Isaac in Robin Hood (2010) dir. Ridley Scott

#oscar isaac #king john #robin hood #gifs #moviegifs

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fearcanbeagift · 3 months ago

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having both blue eyes AND visible abs makes you evil. just look at prince john in robin hood (2010)

#oscar isaac #prince john #king john #robin hood 2010 #op

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year ago

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He's so pathetic and awful, I love him.

FEN Why is he the most bitchy ass loser with the biggest cock in England and no matter how much he sounds like a pussy I'd still be on my damn knees for him PLEASE!

Just wait until you see what @xbellaxcarolinax and I are cooking up hehe 😈😜

#it's gonna be good hehe #melody answers #fen tag #caro tag #king john #king john robin hood #oscar isaac king john #oscar isaac #robin hood

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soft-persephone · 5 months ago

Text

I Will Be Your End pt. 2

Vampire!Abel Morales x Vampire!F!Reader x Vampire!Fontaine x reader

Oscar Isaac x Reader x John Boyega

MDNI // Part One // Explicit // warnings: descriptions of blood l, gore, mention of abuse, fantastical non con but no R word or SA // masterlist

“I think you’ve made up your mind.” Shante said sadly.

“I think I have.” You added with finality.

At that moment Abel and Ghezo walked in.

Abel was still upset, but his anger had subsided.

You rushed over to him. Cupping his face and looking into his eyes.

“I’m fine.” He sighed and patted your hand on his cheek before slowly lowering it, not letting go. He clasped your hands tighter together as they fell by your sides.

“I think it’s time we made our leave.”

Leto nodded, and you both left. Hand in hand.

The crowd had died down, but the music was still thumping. The bass booming as you got your coats at the door.

Abel skipped the vallet and you both walked. Where you were going you didn’t know. You couldn’t bring yourself to care either.

The moon was a crescent. A small sliver of white and silver, the air unforgivably cold. Abel let you clasp your arm in his as you both faced the night together.

“You’re planning to kill him?” He asked calmly. Like he wanted to know what you wanted for dinner.

“I am.”

He nodded, bouncing his head from side to side, weighing the pros and cons in his head.

“If you kill him, I can’t have you stay with me.”

He stopped walking, and so did you.

You looked into his eyes. What once brought you warmth was now chilling you to the bone. The moon is a far away thing. The sun may give it a glow, but it’s just dark rock far away in space for no one to see, but even then did it have an even colder, darker side.

“I guess that’s how it will be then.”

Abel’s jaw clenched. Closing his eyes, he turned away from you for just a moment.

When he opened them, he also opened his mouth to reply, but then he froze.

“Wh—“

“— they’re still on your neck?”

You scrunch your eyes in confusion. “What are you—“

“— why are they still on your neck?” Abel raised his voice. “The- where he bit you! Why are the holes still on your neck? Every other wound, scar, or bruise will heal as soon as you want it to, but you hold on to these?” He seethes at you, grabbing your arm.

You paused.

“Oh.”

“Answer me!” He hissed. His eyes were glowing, frantic and crazed as he looked at you.

You wanted to run your hands through his hair.

“I was thinking about looking at them in the mirror. I didn’t know I could control whether they stayed or not.”

He bristled, not exactly calming down, but he didn’t get angrier either.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking this whole time?”

You shook your head. Not wanting to interrupt him.

“I can’t get the image of you and another vampire out of my mind. How you looked at him and how he looked at you! How you let his hands touch every inch of you and how you clearly wanted to touch every inch of him. His mouth on your skin!”

He threw his hands up. Taking a step away from you before whirling to face you once more.

“As soon as we stepped outside I wanted to drag you into that alley!”

“Abel—“

“Shut up!” He pushed you Into the wall of whatever building you two were in front of.

“I wanted to bite over whatever holes you wouldn’t let go of until they were ripped and raw. I wanted to compel you to not let them heal, so I could watch the ripped holes of your flesh bleed out and out. The tender meat of your neck and collar mangled by my mouth and my mouth alone.”

He was panting now. His voice softer.

“I wanted to erase him from you and claim you as my own. . . But you’d hate me for it. You would have never forgiven me, and vowed to kill me just like you do this other vampire called Fontaine.”

You watched his eyes frantically search your face as his chest heaved up and down.

“You’re right.” You swallowed. “I would have.”

You slowly raised your hand to his cheek and he nuzzled into your hand, briefly touching it with his lips. Tentatively, you brought it to his hair.

With a smile you sighed.

His hair was so soft. It was softer than anything you could have imagined. He closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair over and over again, savoring the feeling.

“Thank you.” You whispered softly.

He opened his eyes. Much calmer now.

“Anytime.” The cold air made his breath visible as it fawned into the air over your face.

“I’m not going to stop you. I just want to make sure you really know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I know.” You sighed.

He nodded, stepping away from the building and off of you. He let out a hand to keep you from stumbling back into the sidewalk.

“Let’s go home where it’s warm.”

“She said that?” Fontaine swallowed and sat down.

Slick was wincing as he stood, waiting for Fontaine to throw something.

“She did.” Yoyo fiddled with her hands in front of her.

“But did you not hear the other shit I said. About the doppelganger's and prophecy?”

“Now let’s not put the horses first before the carriage just yet. We don’t know for sure if it’s a prophecy.”

“Like hell we don’t!”

“Shut, the fuck, up.” Fontaine glared at them one by one.

“Either way, I think it’s time I go over there and find her before she finds me.”

Yo-yo started talking about what he should and shouldn’t do, and He was sure that as Slick opened his mouth to agree with whatever Yo-yo was saying, but

Fontaine waved them both off and with a hand walked out the door without saying a word.

Looking at the sky he sighed.

He might have five more hours left of moonlight before he needed to get inside somewhere. That was plenty of time for a heed start.

Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, he started heading out.

Every other person gave him some sort of smile or greeting. Not aware that he was going to be gone for some time.

Was it this time of night when you left him?

It’s only been a few hours since your tie to the clan was gone. There wasn't a big boom or some large wave of energy. Just a small trickle of something going away, forever.

He can’t let it go out like that.

Everyone demanded to know why.

Who is this girl Fontaine? Why did you bring her here? Why did you turn her?

He wanted to explain, he tried to, but even Yo-yo didn’t understand, so he just stopped explaining. He stopped talking about it.

He wished he could explain the way his mind was screaming at him, or maybe it was his soul burning, eating him alive from the inside out until he turned you.

An explainable force, or maybe his own selfishness was just that strong,

Fontaine shook his head and sighed.

No point in focusing on the past.

Reaching into his mind he looked over the memories Yo-yo had showed him a week ago of when she followed your path to New York and the trail of bodies you left.

It’s not possible for you to be stronger than him. You had only been turned ten years ago, and you fought the process so hard.

He tugged his jacket a little harder as the chill of the night started to settle further into his bones. His thoughts drifted to the first time he met you.

He remembered seeing you at that party around your friends. A literal light seemed to shine out of you, making you stand out amongst every person.

He couldn't help but stare at you as you bounded to and fro.

Even talking to you felt like a song in his ears. Like you were some witch putting him under a spell. Outside of your own aura, you made him feel seen. Truly and utterly seen.

When he turned he didn’t know what to do, and everything was so hectic and chaotic.

He was turned and had no idea. He remembered how he suffered. How scared and painful it was, but only for one day. He quickly made his way.

But stumbling around town one night, no one missed him. No one asked about him or wondered where he was. His so-called friends only acted as if he’d been shut in his house, keeping to himself for no reason at all.

Only the homeless old man outside the liquor store seemed to notice.

He pushed away the thoughts of everything that came next.

He hated thinking about finding out his life was a lie. That everyone had been turned and compelled to forget, so they can be observed like a big colony of fucking lab rats.

In a large field of grass, there were stray lines of paint and stray pieces of yellow tape.

Yo-yo had pulled up an article saying it was an animal attack. They all knew it was something else.

You were here.

Finding a tree with more than enough shade, he stumbled down underneath it and out his back to the trunk. Looking up, he watched the wind rustle the leaves.

Daylight would come soon.

He closed his eyes, continuing to think of you.

He wished he could take it back. The pain that is.

When he saw you and you talked to him, something in him started screaming.

He knew if he didn’t turn you, the screaming wouldn't stop. The buzzing underneath his skin would grow and grow and drive him crazy until he found you again.

He had to turn you. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew he was supposed to.

As soon as his lips touched your skin, he came to terms with the idea of you hating him. You’d hate him, but you’d still be with him. He could find a way to gain your trust, somehow make amends with you and beg for some type of forgiveness later, but at least he’d have you.

But once he turned you and took you somewhere safe to transition. Before he could even get the chance to make yours less painful and lovely as his, you fought every step of the process. You ended up in a coma, rejecting every little change to your body.

Everyone expected you to die.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t lose hope, he had to hope.

Because accepting a world where he killed you forever to be lost, is not one he could have accepted, so he’d hope.

But now. . .

He sighed.

He’d make it right. He didn’t know how, but by everything on this raft he’d find a way to make it right. There was nothing else to live for. There was no purpose. Everyone in the Glenn was free to do whatever they wanted to do.

So he’d focus his eternity of death, to begging for your forgiveness. . . . On you.

On quiet moments like this, if he’d closed his eyes and concentrated on you, he could hear your voice. He could feel your energy.

You thought of him sometimes. He could feel the anger and pain, your fury. But it would pitter out into nothing and then you’d be gone.

“Is he still alive?” Fontaine didn’t know that voice.

“Yes.” You huffed, closing a book and tossing it to the end of the bed.

“You don’t sound disappointed.”

Fontaine scrunched his brow and frowned.

He wasn’t in the woods anymore. He was in a bed, lying on top of plush cream sheets.

He opened his eyes and saw you.

Your large natural hair and how it fanned across your features and shaped your face. Your big brown eyes and how they seemed to grow bigger with adoration and fondness for the man on the other side of you.

“I won’t say anything to convince you, but you already know how I feel.”

There was another man on the other side of you. Tan skin and a dark head of hair. He looked rich. This bedroom looked like it belonged to a man that could buy the whole Glenn if he wanted.

Someone who doesn’t know they even exist and would probably never give a fuck about them either.

“What would you say to him,” you almost got up, but Abel put a hand on your shoulder, “I’m not telling you to actually do it. I’m just creating a hypothetical question.”

You sighed, and settled back down to the bed, snuggling closer to the strange rich man’s side.

Away from him.

He swallowed and momentarily licked his lips.

“If he was here right now,” Fontaine looked over to him and met his eyes. Briefly flashing an old yellow gold. Fontaine kept the same face, puffing his chest and clenching his jaw a bit, “what would you say to him.”

The had you had comfortably placed on his chest started to grab and squeeze at the fabric of his shirt.

“Why?” You huffed out a breath and sucked it back in a little too quickly, causing your voice to crack and Fontaine’s heart to break. “Why me? Why this way?”

“Fuck you!” You sobbed now, burying your face into his chest. “Fuck you for doing this to me! For taking me away from my family, for ruining my life!”

Fontaine woke up with a start. The air was hot.

The sun glaring just a few feet away from him outside the shade of the tree.

He closed his eyes and pushed away the feelings that were starting to rise within him. Ignoring that he had no idea how to make this right.

Fontaine’s eyes snapped open at the smell of blood. The chill of his own power coursed through his veins. The cold tendrils of his magic was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to.

But it was fitting.

Before he ever had an ounce of magic, when he didn’t know his entire existence was a lie, he was often accused of icing people out, that he was too cold and rigid, never letting anyone in, that he was standoffish and rigid in his anger and retaliation. . . But that wasn’t true.

He felt a fire growing within him from the moment he saw you.

He’s been chasing the warmth of your glow that basked over him on your first night together. The heat of your skin burning his, reaching far down in his pores and burning his insides.

He was a moth and you were his flame.

As he followed the scent of blood the magic in his veins caused his pulse to race faster and he started running.

He didn’t know how. He couldn’t prove or explain it, but he knew you’d be near it. That when he got to the source of the blood, he’d see you.

He just needed to see you.

The trees were getting thicker, and the smell was stronger. He slowed down, stepping carefully in case you decided to run if you saw him. . . Or worse.

The man from the vision thing was there. He was wearing a long wool coat and suit. He rolled his eyes as he remembered the useless details about his wardrobe that Slick went on and on about.

A cigarette loose in between his fingers, he bit into the neck of a young light skinned man. Full figured and thick hair. He could see his face clearly despite how far he was standing. He had his vampire instinct magic bullshit to thank for that.

His heart swelled as he watched you standing to the side. Despite the situation, he smiled.

You were wearing baggy jorts and an oversized Nike shirt, he knew you paid way too much for. If he remembered correctly that was one of your dream pieces of clothing and from the off white cream sneakers you wore, you got your dream pair of shoes to match. You told him you were too scared of baggy clothing. You feared it made you look bigger then you actually were or sloppy or some shit like that.

This man though, this other man you been with had some typa money.

He smacked his teeth.

He could have copped all that and more for you if you let him.

“Wait,” the man held out a hand as you leaned in too close to him and the boy, well boy might too harsh, but Fontaine wasn’t exactly thrilled about your relationship with this stranger and whatever the fuck you were getting up to without him, “take a step back.”

You smacked your teeth and then groaned into the air. The gold in your mouth twinkling underneath the moonlight.

His heart stopped.

You kept them.

The air around Fontaine grew chilly, frost starting to form in the grass and leaves underneath his feet, and it’s not because it was in the middle of winter on the east coast.

“Pleaaase, hurry up Abel.” You begged. “You said I could start feeding again.

Fontaine didn’t know too much about being a vampire, but he knew the signs of overeating. And you had more than enough over the last few months. It’s not too soon to start eating again, but with a strict schedule and guidance, it might not.

Who the fuck does this guy think he is?

Abel paused, taking a step back from the human and gave you a hard look.

“It’s not too late to go home and call it a night.” Taking one last drag from the cigarette in his hand, he put it out on the human’s skin, but instead of protesting or crying out in pain he sounded like he. . . enjoyed it.

Fontaine wanted to be here a little less now.

What kind of freaky messed up shit was this? Did you like this? Are you even into this kinda shit?

“Abel, please.” Your eyes were wide now, pupils so large and black Fontaine swore he could see the moon reflecting off of them. Your lips pouting as your wide button nose scrunched up from the cold.

“You aren’t some fucking wild animal with instincts and a dumb fucking brain. You are a vampire,” Abel growled at you with bared fangs, “act like it.”

He sighed. Balling his fist. “Reach deep down within you, that fucking hunger, that urge to just devour,” he looked into your eyes, hard.

You nodded. Mouth closed.

“Control it. Fight it.”

He bit into the boys next.

The sound of Abel's teeth breaking into his skin sounded like a grape snapping, when he chomped his jaw and sucked the sounds of flesh mushing and wrangling outside of its natural state were the only sounds they could hear, amplified with their supernatural hearing abilities.

He moaned as Abel began to suck the blood from his body, one, two to three seconds before he licked at some of the blood that was rapidly falling out of the gaping gash on his neck.

You licked your lips and swallowed.

“You're doing so well Jay.”

Jay kept his eyes closed. “Really?” He asked meekly, probably unaware of just how much blood was leaving his body.

You have a pointed look at Abel and he gave you one to match. Fontaine had no idea what was goin on because neither one of you we’re saying anything.

Abel took a few steps over to a tree. Keeping his eyes on you and Jay.

“Wait.” Was all he said.

As the silence stretched in the clearing of the forest, snow began to fall. Decorating the crimson in a backdrop of white.

Abel nodded and you were on Jay in an instant.

Not even thinking of removing your grill, you dove right in. Placing your mouth over the mangled ripped marks on his neck that Abel had left. There was no need for you to have to bite him, but Jay seemed just as satisfied.

“That’s enough.” Abel’s voice was barely above a whisper, but you immediately pulled off of Jay and stopped.

You froze, waiting.

Nothing.

You looked up to Abel with a smile.

“I did it!”

“I told you, you could do it.” He smiled softly, letting out a breath of relief through his nose.

He walked over to you, his footsteps crunching in the snow, and placed a hand on either side of your face, smiling from ear to ear.

You gave him a smile too match and his face faltered for a second.

Then he kissed you.

Fontaine's heart stopped cold as he watched him nudge your mouth open with his as his hands slid up your sides to the back of your neck as his tongue slipped into yours. Hating, how you two seemed to be sharing the taste of Jay’s blood off of one another.

“Wait,” Abel stopped breathlessly, biting his wrist he shoved it a little too quickly and strongly into Jay’s mouth, almost knocking him over. Jay cried out a little but took one suck and shoved his wrist away. “You're alright, son.” Abel patted him on the back as he dry heaved over the snow.

“It’s always so gross!” He sucked in a large breath of air, “every time!”

Fishing his hand into his pocket he gave you a small smile before presenting a large wad of cash towards you.

“T-t-thank you.” He looked at Abel who only stared at him. He wasn’t glaring, but he had a certain way of holding himself that put people off of him. This strange air of polite superiority that intimated in ways people were unfamiliar with.

“I.. better go.” He gave you one more timid smile before waving and stuffing his hands in his now ripped hoodie pockets, trailing away in the snow.

“Are we like, hookers or something? Did he just give us money like in a sex worker way?”

“No,” Abel raised an eyebrow, “he gave you money like a sex worker or hooker.”

You slapped him, biting your cheek to keep from smiling. “We should have taken him home.” Was all you said.

“Hell be fine.” Abel huffed softly, the cold air making his breath form a small white cloud in your face, making you smile even wider.

“Maybe—“

“You been a good bitch for your new master?” Fontaine gave you a crooked cruel smile.

It was one thing to see another man kiss you, but the way you were smiling at him? The way you looked at this other man like he was the world? That you trusted him with everything? When you looked at him as if he was your safe place? That. He could not take.

He was about to yell out how this new man was your new pimp, but he was unprepared with how fast you flung your entire body at him.

He was unprepared for your hands to almost ring around his neck and pop it off his shoulders, but he already had your hands in front of him in an iron grip as he moved to the side and let you grab his arm.

“Huh,” he laughed bitterly in your face, “you really do wanna kill me, huh?”

“And I fucking can too.”

Fontaine wanted to keep fighting you, for you to keep yelling at him because if he couldn’t get you to love him, he’d be happy to have you hate him. Pain or pleasure, happy or sad, at least he was around you.

Your hand hurled toward his face faster than his eyes could naturally perceive so he pulled from his own magic to counterattack, preparing to move just as fast as you, but as time slowed around you two, he could only focus on your face.

Your eyes.

From the corners of your irises, tendrils of purple were swarming the dark natural brown of your eyes, and he froze.

“You’re. . . Purple.”

His words made you miss and stumble.

“What the fuc—“

In a blink, you were gone.

The man in a coat . . . Abel, was the only person left standing in front of him. His chest heaving up and down as he breathed out his mouth. He clenched his jaw before closing his mouth. His gaze was hard and steady.

Fontaine squared his shoulders, but otherwise didn’t move.

“This ain’t about you,” Fontaine fought the urge to bare his teeth, “what we have is between us.”

“Well it becomes about me when a vampire you recently turned comes into my territory claiming it happened without their consent.”

“Aye man. I don’t know wha—“

Abel was on him in an instant. Shoving Fontaine back into the nearest tree, making him cough up blood.

“You’re weak,” Abel spoke through his teeth. Fontaine opened his mouth to say something but Abel only bounced his head off the tree. “I’m not talking about how old you are. I’m talking about how you had one chance to own up to your mistakes and lay everything out on the table with her, but you decided to use pretty fucking words instead.”

He looked into Fontaine's eyes, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, he pushed off of him.

“You’re a childish coward.”

“And you’re better?” Fontaine balled his fist when Abel didn’t reply.

“Just because you’re the first fucking thing she ran into while she was running away doesn’t make you better.”

“I don’t know anything about you to hate you. I can barely determine if I even have the energy to think about you.”

“I could say the same thing about you, moutherfucka.”

Abel leveled Fontaine with a look. He was standing rigid and he could tell he was getting on his fucking nerves but he wouldn’t fight him. Most vampires, witches, or whatever else magic bullshit was out there would have tried to hurt him by now.

“I’m sure we both are more than strong enough to snap one another’s necks, but,” Abel’s eyes flashed an old yellow, “I need you. . . She needs you.”

“That’s not what she said last night.” Fontaine shook his head and sat on the snow.

“And I gave you more than enough time to try and fix that, but you’d rather stumble around throwing petty insults with your tail between your legs.”

“Then how. . . “ Fontaine held up his hands out in front of him before sighing, “how do you know she needs me?”

Abel pulled his coat to the side to put his hands into his suit pockets, the cold starting to get to him.

“It’s a prophecy,” Fontaine’s head snapped up and Abel needed to look into the sky, “I’m not good with this magic shit, but I know rules and regulations when I see them.”

“Fucking magic. . .” Fontaine muttered.

“Yeah,” Abel smiled weakly before continuing, “there’s three older vampires who look exactly like us, I think you know one.”

“I’m not talking about it.” Fontaine let his legs fall out straight and he stuffed his hands into his jacket.

“Well, we’re destined to be together, any lifetime, any circumstance, and usually as vampires. We apparently can’t live without one another.”

Fontaine nodded.

“And she wants to kill me.”

“She wants to kill you.”

Fontaine and Abel let the silence stretch between them. Watching the snow fall and cover everything in sight. The moon was large and white and it shined down and gave the forest a picturesque glow.

“Her eyes were purple.”

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 4 months ago

Text

Blue Blood and Rain [3]

King John X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info •ko-fi•

Summary: You go to the King's chambers as requested.

Series Masterlist

A/N: A huge, huge, huge thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for betaing and helping me out with this one! <3

Warnings: Kissing, dry humping, coming in pants, reader is a virgin, overuse of italics, power dynamics because he's the king, I have totally made up servant/noble dynamics because I wanted to, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2859

You'd expected a little more difficulty to get here. A complication. Something.

But it had all been too easy.

Lady Bowhale had excused you from your duties early as she was meeting up with another noble. No one even noticed you as you made your way to the side of the castle that held the King's private chambers, why would they?

The guards didn't even question you when you approached them, you'd hardly even held up the pendant the King had given you before they had already nodded and escorted you down the corridor.

You wondered how many times they'd done this, how many times someone had been invited to his room for…for whatever was going to happen.

The guards leave you when you reach a door, returning to their post without a word.

You shift your weight from foot to foot, nausea building in your throat as anxiety worms and twists in your stomach. You breathe deeply and knock quickly before you completely lose your nerve.

“Come.” The King’s voice is firm and politely disinterested.

Maybe you had misunderstood. Maybe this was a terrible, terrible idea.

You bite your lips together before you push open the heavy wooden door and step inside.

You keep your eyes to the floor as you move, turning quickly to close the door behind you and then stand with your hands clasped too tightly in front of you.

You miss the smile that spreads across the King’s face when he looks up from his desk and sees you. But you hear as he stands and walks towards you, the grind of his chair as he pushes it from the table, the faint rustle of his clothes.

You keep your eyes cast down when he stops directly in front of you, barely a hand width away.

“Now, now,” he gently places his forefinger under your chin and tilts your head upwards to meet his gaze, “is this any way to greet your King?”

Dread flushes through your veins despite the tease in his voice. “I, Your Highness -Your Majesty- I’m-”

A smile pulls at his lips as you fumble with your words, but it doesn’t last long as he leans forward, pressing his mouth to yours and swallowing your distress.

He pushes you lightly up against the door, pressing his chest flush to yours as he deepens the kiss. One hand grips your hip while the other strokes down your cheek, your neck, squeezing lightly at your shoulder.

When he pulls back a fraction to break the kiss it leaves you breathless. “Just as sweet as I remember.” He mutters, moving his hand up from your hip to your waist, while he caresses your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

Heat runs along your skin. You bite your lip as you stare at him.

“Uh uh,” he tuts and presses his thumb against your bottom lip, gently easing it from between your teeth. “I am the only one allowed to do that.” His voice is low, heavy with lust as he dips forward again to kiss you. His tongue swipes along your lip before he nips lightly, using your gasp of surprise as an advantage to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You pull lightly at his shirt, urging him closer, and when he presses his knee between your legs you open them without thinking. So eager to be utterly caught up in the heat of his kiss.

You breathe hard as he trails his lips along your jaw, sucking lightly just below your ear.

He grinds against you languidly, pressing his hardening cock to your centre and groaning when you instinctively buck. “So eager for me,” he mutters between kisses, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

He takes hold of your thigh, hooking his hand under your knee and spreading you wider as he places your leg over his hip.

A splash of panic settles along your nerves, overriding any pleasure his mouth brings.

He’s obviously experienced, used to others who can at least keep up with him. It wasn’t as if you were completely naive, but you were certainly lacking in practical experience.

“I, erm, Your Highness, I,” you fumble your words, letting your anxiety overtake you. You would be a disappointment.

To your surprise he stops his onslaught on your skin, pulling back ever so slightly to look into your eyes while staying close. He smiles softly, stroking your cheek once more like he is calming a wild animal. “What is it sweet thing?” He lightly kisses your lips. “You can tell your King.”

You swallow, breathing deeply as dread settles in your veins. This was foolish, you were being foolish.

“You’re shaking.” He whispers, his voice sweet and gentle, as he takes hold of your left hand. He kisses your palm, your fingers, before he presses it to his cheek. “You need not be afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Your Highness,” You say softly, but you’re not sure if you’re being completely honest. “I, I’m, just…”

He listens intently for a moment, but when you don’t continue he presses his lips to your wrist and takes a step back, carefully lowering your leg to the ground.

Your chest hurts. A deep widespread pain that all but robs the breath from you. You’d displeased him, you’d-

“Here,” he keeps hold of your hand, kissing your knuckles and gently guiding you further into the room. “Come, sit with me.”

He gives you a reassuring smile as he leads you to a lush seat by the fire. It’s only now that you look around and truly take in the beauty of the room, the fine tapestries covering the walls, the dark wood furniture.

He gestures for you to sit first, bowing his head ever so slightly as if you were some Lady he was trying to court and not… you didn’t want to think about it.

He sits next to you, angling his body so that he’s facing towards you, his thigh brushing against yours. Far too close to be innocent.

You swallow and bite your bottom lip.

The King grins. “What did I tell you about that?” He teases. “Behave or I’ll kiss you senseless.”

“What if I want you to?” You retort, speaking before thinking.

His smile widens, “That’s better,” and leans towards you again.

“Your Highness, I am not,” you blurt out and he pauses. Inwardly you curse yourself. “I am not… experienced in these matters.” You keep your eyes closed as you speak, it was easier than meeting his fierce gaze, from being distracted by his beautiful eyes.

“I am… I will be a disappointment to you.” You finally finish. “I’m sorry…”

He is quiet for a long moment. And it is only when you finally find the strength to open your eyes that you see him beaming.

“Is that what you were so nervous about?” His amusement is clear in his voice.

You nod, practically wanting to bury your head in your hands.

“Aww, my sweet.” He kisses your cheek, nuzzling against you and heat flows over your skin. He runs his fingers along your jaw as he leans back to watch you. “You’re nervous?”

You nod.

He pauses, taking his time with his words. “I know I ordered you to be here but… tell me honestly, with no repercussions for you on my part, do you wish to be here with me?”

You meet his gaze quickly and nod.

His grin returns at your eagerness. “Good, but I want to assure you that, at any moment when we are in my chambers together you can leave without repercussions. You can say stop, and I’ll stop, understand?”

You nod again but he can see the worry written across your face.

“I am not interested in doing things that you do not want,” he leans closer, “that you do not enjoy.” He lightly presses his lips against your throat and your breath hitches. “My pleasure comes from yours.” He whispers, kissing just below your ear.

You shiver, instinctively moving to press yourself closer to him.

“You are not, and never will, disappoint me,” his breath is warm on your cheek as he guides your mouth to his once more. Kissing you like you're his only source of oxygen.

“Though,” he mutters against your lips, “I am interested in what ‘not experienced’ means to you.” There’s a tease in his voice that sets your blood on fire. Part of you wants to hide your face, dissuade him from making you answer. But you can tell by the look on his face that he isn’t going to let this go so easily.

“I…” you squirm a little under his watchful eye as he strokes your cheek softly, obviously enjoying your discomfort.

But he seems to take pity on you, lending forward and placing a light kiss to your lips. “Alright, let me make this easier for you, yes?”

You watch him a little suspicious of his smile, certain he’s trying to lead you into some sort of trap.

“Am I your first kiss?” He asks, licking at his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.

You shake your head and his grin widens.

“I didn’t think so,” he brushes his thumb lower, stroking your jaw.

“You didn’t think so?” You put a little mock outrage into your voice and he laughs.

“Your kisses are too sweet to be completely innocent.”

“I am going to take that as an insult.” You jab lightly and his eyes gleam.

“Oh dear,” he runs his fingers softly over your collarbone. “I best try to make it up to you then, do my best to get back into your good graces.” He kisses you gently, sliding his hand around to the back of your neck to urge you closer. Not that it was needed, you’d moved instinctively closer, craving more of his touch.

He licks along your bottom lip before groaning as he slips inside. He licks into your mouth, stroking your tongue with his own before he kisses your cheek, chin, leaving soft, sweet impressions along your jaw until he reaches the point just below your ear.

You moan weakly, your breath hitching as he lightly sucks, his fingers stroking gently across your skin.

“Is that nice?” He coos, already knowing the answer and seeming far too pleased with himself.

You nod unthinkingly, shivering as he kisses the same spot again, dragging his teeth across the faint love bite he left.

You grab hold of his bicep, sinking your fingers into the soft material of his shirt and tugging him close without realising.

Another small moan leaves your throat as he pulls back once more and chuckles. For a moment he only rubs the top of his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply before he speaks. “Am I the first to kiss your neck?” He asks, silky smooth, the hint of his smile in his voice.

You shake your head.

“No?” He teases, pretending to pout.

“No but…” you swallow, feeling almost lightheaded. “But it didn’t feel like that.”

“Really?” He presses another light kiss to your throat and you shiver.

“Really.”

He chuckles, “what did it feel like?”

“Hmm?”

“When the other kissed your neck, what did it feel like?”

You pause, trying to find the right words and not wanting to lie to him. “Wet.”

He snorts, utterly amused. “Wet?”

You nod.

He chuckles. “Surely this is wet too, is it not?” He nips at your skin purposefully, dragging his tongue over your jugular and squeezing your hip when you sigh and shiver, pushing closer to him wantonly.

“Yes,” you bite back the sounds in your throat, “but it’s…”

“It’s…?” He raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“It feels different, it feels good.”

“You didn’t enjoy it before?” There’s a light sadness in his tone that’s catches you off guard.

“It was fine.”

“Well, that will not do,” he smiles and leans back a little so he can look at your face, “fine is not exquisite is it?”

You shake your head.

His smile widens, “you deserve to feel wonderful,” he cups your cheek, gently urging you back to his warm mouth and soft lips.

You comply eagerly, melting into the kiss and sighing.

Gently he slips his hands down to your waist and hips, silently urging you to move and climb into his lap.

At first, you hesitate despite your body screaming for you to comply.

He nips at your bottom lip softly, licking into your mouth teasingly for a second, “please.” He asks softly stroking your cheek once more, peppering kisses over your skin. “Please.” He urges again, gently pleading with you

A happy sigh leaves him when you finally climb into his lap, your legs on either side of his. At first, you rest gingerly, not wanting to put any of your weight on him. But he carefully persuades you to settle, his hands warm as they trace patterns on your sides through your dress.

He watches you intently the whole time, a small smile teasing at his lips when your centre finally brushes against his.

You gasp, your thighs tense at the touch. Instinctively you move back like you’ve been burnt, but he presses you closer, one hand flat on your back until your chests are touching.

His clothed length presses hot and hard against you.

You squirm, breathing deeply as heat rises to your skin.

“What about this?”

“Your Highness?”

He grins, chuckling kindly. “What about this?” He rocks his hips up as he holds your waist, perfectly massaging his cock against your clit.

You whine, closing your eyes fiercely and grabbing hold of his shoulders, unsure whether you should push him away and or pull him closer.

“Have you done this before?” He asks in that silky sweet tone as if he was speaking about trying a new meal.

You shake your head, still not opening your eyes, “No,” you manage to gasp out, swallowing, “No I haven’t.”

“Oh,” he teases, “what a shame. So you’re telling me that no one has ever gotten to see these sweet little faces you're making?”

Embarrassment scratches along your nerves. “No.”

“Good.” He growls lowly, grinning wickedly, pulling you closer and mouthing at your neck until you are breathless and gasping, hanging onto him for dear life.

He controls the steady pace, not wanting to overwhelm you any more than he already is.

You shake above him, your body starting to move on autopilot as you chase the pleasure he’s giving you.

He watches you intently through hazy eyes, his breathing growing ragged as you begin to rock against him on your own.

“I can feel how warm you are, my sweet thing.” He says in hushed tones as he slides one hand from your hip to your thigh. He groans as you mewl, picking up the pace of his hips slightly as he presses against you. He strokes against a spot that makes you sob and focuses all his attention on making you do it again.

“I can only imagine what it feels like to be deep inside you.” He groans, breathless, pulling you closer again so he can once more slip his tongue past your lips.

But before he gets a chance you flick your tongue into his mouth and he moans wantonly, his hips bucking as he eagerly accepts you.

Your back arches as wetness builds between your legs, your body aching for him. He squeezes your right breast, pinching at the pebbling nipple until you squirm and whine and sink your fingers into his dark curls.

You tug lightly, unintentionally at first, but it seems to set him off; has him groaning louder into your mouth as you eagerly drink down the sweet sounds. He rubs and ruts against you, moving you so you stroke against him exactly how he carves.

The pleasure starts to amp up from its slow build, seizing your limbs as it gains momentum. You manage to pull your mouth back from his a fraction, your high pitched wrecked cries echoing around the room. “I…” You gasp, trying to form words.

“Oh god,” he groans, truly rutting against you like a buck in heat. “That’s it, that’s it, let it overtake you, let it, let me see you come.”

Your orgasm cracks up your spine like electricity, robbing you of thought. You press yourself as close to him as you physically can, your forehead against his as pleasure rocks through your body like a tidal wave.

He gasps, moving frantically, trying to prolong your pleasure and the beautiful look on your face when his own orgasm catches up on him.

He comes hard, spilling in his trousers and shaking in the aftermath.

You both breathe heavily, still pressed close to each other. Sweat beads on your skin and when you open your eyes the King is looking up at you with soft eyes.

“You are the first person to ever make me come without taking my trousers off, my sweet.” He smiles at you, the expression widening when you laugh and bury your face into his chest.

Thank you for reading!

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my-secret-shame · 5 months ago

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emma23 · 17 days ago

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A fragile crown:

John x reader

————————————————————————

In the dimly lit hall of Nottingham Castle, the air buzzed with laughter and the clinking of goblets. King John, dressed in finery, strode through the throng of guests, his mind a whirlpool of thoughts. He had been preparing for this evening, an extravagant celebration of his power, yet all he could think about was his wife, Y/N. Where had she gone?

As he pushed past a group of nobles, he caught sight of her, her silhouette half-hidden in a shadowed alcove. His heart sank when he approached, realizing she was crying, tears shimmering in the flickering candlelight.

"How could you do this to me? Why do you hate me so much?" Her voice trembled, cutting through the din of the party.

"I don't hate you, Y/N." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Tell me what happened, love." His heart raced, the concern etched on his face.

She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Why did you bring him here, John?"

"What do you mean?" he asked softly, confusion lacing his words.

"Why would you bring him to your party? The man who raped me?"

John froze, the color draining from his face. "What?" His voice was barely above a whisper, the weight of her words crashing down upon him like a tidal wave.

Y/N stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself as if to shield her heart. "You invited him, John. I thought you had changed, that you understood…"

"Who? I didn’t know, I swear! Please, just tell me everything." His voice cracked, his previous arrogance replaced by desperation.

She shook her head, pain etched on her features. "I thought we could have a life together, that we could be happy. But you keep surrounding yourself with people who hurt me. How am I supposed to feel safe here?"

"Y/N, I never meant to put you in danger. I thought—" He reached for her, his hand gently grasping her shoulder.

She flinched at his touch but didn’t pull away. "You thought what? That I would just forget? That it wouldn’t matter?" Her voice rose, a mix of anger and hurt.

"Please, just listen." He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. "I need you to believe me. I would never intentionally harm you. I only want your happiness."

"You think I can be happy in a place where the past haunts me?" she said, her voice softening, but the hurt was still there. "Every time I see him, it brings back the memories, the pain…"

His heart ached as he watched the woman he loved crumble before him. He hated himself for having invited the monster who had taken so much from her. "Let me protect you, Y/N. I’ll banish him from my court. I promise."

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she searched his face for the truth. "You can’t just make the past disappear."

"No, I can’t," he admitted, voice heavy with sorrow. "But I can try to make a future where you feel safe. I’ll do whatever it takes."

As the party continued around them, John leaned closer, his breath warm against her skin. "Just let me hold you. Let me remind you that you are safe with me."

Y/N hesitated, her heart racing as she felt his warmth envelop her. Finally, she nodded, letting him draw her into his arms. He wrapped her tightly, their bodies fitting together as if they were made for each other.

"I'm sorry for all the pain," he whispered against her hair. "I can’t change what happened, but I want to make it right. I want to be the king you deserve."

She pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, searching for sincerity. "Do you truly mean it?"

"More than anything. You're my heart, Y/N. I can't bear the thought of losing you." He kissed her forehead, a gesture filled with tenderness.

She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his words. "I just want to feel safe."

"You are safe with me." John brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb, then cupped her face, leaning in for a kiss that was soft and tentative at first. It quickly deepened, the emotions swirling between them—desire, regret, and hope.

As they broke apart, both breathless, he whispered, "Let’s leave this place behind, just for tonight. Let me show you that I can be the man you need."

With a small smile breaking through her tears, Y/N nodded. "Take me away from this party."

Hand in hand, they slipped through the crowded hall, seeking the solitude of their chambers. Once inside, John closed the door behind them, leaning against it as he pulled her closer.

"I want you to know," he said, his voice low and husky, "that every moment with you is precious. I don’t want to lose any more time." He leaned down, capturing her lips again in a passionate kiss, filled with the longing they both shared.

As the kiss deepened, John guided her towards the bed, their bodies pressing together as he laid her down gently. He hovered above her, eyes searching hers. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she breathed, the uncertainty fading away as she felt safe in his embrace. Their connection sparked something within her, a warmth that chased away the darkness of her past.

He kissed her again, this time with urgency, as if he were trying to erase every painful memory. Their bodies intertwined, passion igniting the room as they explored each other with fervor and tenderness.

The world outside faded away, and for that moment, all that mattered was their love, their desire to be together. With every whispered word, every soft caress, John showed Y/N that he would protect her, that he would fight for her heart.

When the night finally drew to a close, they lay entwined, hearts still racing. John brushed a lock of hair from Y/N's face, looking into her eyes. "I will always choose you, no matter the cost."

Her smile warmed him more than the flickering firelight. "And I will always choose to love you, John."

Together, they had faced the darkness, and together, they would find their light.

#prince john x reader #king john #king John x reader #prince john #robin hood #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac #oscar isaac character

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