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

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Blue Blood and Rain [9]

King John x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Summary: You're the personal attendant to The Dowager Countess of Bowhale, who was visiting the court with her son.

The morning after.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Some angst, due to Hugo in the previous chapter, kisses, pet names, oral sex (f!receiving), p in v sex, multiple orgasms, overuse of italics, power dynamics because he's the king, I have totally made up servant/noble dynamics because I wanted to, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2829

The faint, seemingly far off sounds of the fire in the King’s rooms being lit stir you from sleep.

Your limbs are heavy, filled with a pleasant ache and you open your eyes slowly.

Darkness greets you, from the weak light you can see the curtains that surround the bed. They are closed, the intricately embroidered material depicting myths and legends. You’re not sure when they were drawn, but you are sure that it’s early morning, close to when you would normally rise, dress for the day, and start your duties.

The mattress is warm, but empty beside you. You start to sit up, sleep finally withdrawing from its hold on you.

Faintly, you can hear the rumble of the King’s voice, he’s speaking to someone. But you can’t make out the words.

Hurriedly you rub your eyes, you’d spent far too long here. You glance about for your clothing from the night before, worrying your lip between your teeth, trying to see if you can spot them without opening the curtains and exposing yourself to whichever servant was lighting the fires.

Suddenly the curtain opens and you jump back, covering yourself with the blankets.

The King chuckles, smiling warmly and closes the curtains. He is dressed in a beautifully decorated robe that he slips from his shoulders and lets pool on the floor as he climbs on the bed, revealing his nakedness.

“What are you doing awake?” He kisses your cheek as he slips under the blankets next to you, wrapping you in his arms and shifting closer. His legs are a little cold from being out of the bed’s comfort.

“Warm me up?” He kisses your shoulder as he coaxes you down to lay on your side with him snuggling into your back.

You smile. “I have to-”

“You have to lay here and go back to sleep with me. I order it.” His eyes are already closed when you turn your head to look at him, but he’s grinning as if he can picture the expression you’re giving him.

“Your Highness-”

“Yes, that's quite right, I am Your Highness, and I demand your loyalty.” He teases.

“You have that.”

“And obedience.”

“Well…” You yelp as he tickles your side and then squeezes you closer.

“Do not make the King sentence you to his cold feet.”

You giggle.

“I have arranged for your morning duties to be covered, do not fret my love.” He says sweetly and kisses your cheek. “Stay with me a while longer?”

You nod and let his embrace pull you back into slumber.

The next time you wake is much later, sunshine just peaking through the gap in the curtains. Your dreams had been filled of him, of his touch and caress, sweet words and soft sighs. The King’s arms are still around you, his breathing steady as he sleeps.

You sit up, turning to look at him. He’s so peaceful, his curls fanning over the pillow. There’s some stubble growing in the usually closely shaved gaps of his beard. It looks quite good, perhaps a full beard would suit him.

Part of you wants to reach out, to stroke his face. But you do not want to disturb his rest.

As carefully as you can, you start to slip out of the covers, just poking your foot off the bed.

“And where does my beloved think she’s going?” The King’s voice is thick, full of sleep as he sits up and nuzzles into your neck.

“I was just going to-”

“Try and escape me.” He chuckles. “Am I such a terrible host? Or do you see me as some wicked tormenter? Here holding you against your will?” He wraps his strong arms around your waist and pulls you close, pressing his chest to your back as he kisses your pulse point.

“Maybe I’m the one ensnaring you?” You tease and he groans softly.

“Yes, yes, very good. I hope so, very much.”

“You hope so?” You laugh.

“Hmm,” He kisses your cheek, then lips as you turn your head towards him.

You snort, moving fully to face him and run your fingers over his cheeks. “Your beard is growing.”

He pouts.

“I like it.” You tap his nose softly.

That makes him smile, the expression is a little surprised. “You do?”

“I think you would look very distinguished.”

“Oh?”

“Very regal.”

“I think my lady is thinking only of what it would feel like between her legs.” He grins when you laugh, resting his hands on your hips and kneading your flesh slowly.

“I think that is what, My King, is thinking of.”

“I like that.”

“What?” You put your arms around his neck, more than content to gaze at the happiness on his face.

“Your King.” He puffs out his chest. “Just for you. No one else.”

You swallow. The smallest crack in your chest, threatening to let thoughts of Hugo and the future filter into this perfect moment. You shift, breathing in to speak, and accidentally brush your thigh against the King’s heavy cock.

His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a gentle hum of satisfaction that he cuts short. “I apologise, my love, being close to you does things to me. Especially when you are naked in my bed.”

“Why are you apologising?” You ask sweetly.

“Well, I am sure you are sore and not thinking about such-”

You cut him off with a firm kiss, licking into his mouth when he happily parts his lips for you and moaning. His fingers tighten on your hips as he fights the urge to pull you into his lap.

Instead, you push him back against the mattress and quickly climb on top of him, resting your legs either side of his.

He kisses you hungrily, groaning as you move but pulling back at the last moment. “My love, do not worry about me, let me put my mouth on you and soothe your ache.”

You shake your head. “I want to feel you inside.” You raise yourself up and take hold of his thick length, lightly stroking him a few times to savour the velvet heat of his skin under your palm.

He groans, his hips jolting as he fights back the urge to buck.

“I’ve been dreaming of you,” you mutter against his lip as you press his swollen head against your entrance.

He sighs desperately, his lidded eyes widening when he feels the arousal between your legs.

“You are so wet, my love.” He mutters, his voice soft and reverent, hypotonic almost. “Pray tell, how have you been dreaming of me?” He sits up, chest to chest.

“Of all the ways I could have you,” you whisper and kiss him roughly. He moans, grabbing hold of your sides as you slide your hand into his hair.

At first, there is a slight resistance as you press down against him, a slight burn of stretched muscle. But the tip of his cock quickly breaches you, stretching you wide as you sink down onto him.

You bite your lip, gasping.

“My love,” he swallows, trying to keep the desperate whine out of his voice, to keep the moans at bay. “Please do not if it hurts, if you are sore or in pain.”

You shake your head. “I’m alright, it’s not unpleasant.” You breathe in, and rock your hips slightly, easing further and further.

He moans louder, pressing his face into your neck but keeping his lower body still. The tension of his muscles radiates into you, how hard he is trying not to move and let you take what you want.

You swallow when you finally settle against him, his entire length sheathed fully inside. He presses deep, splitting you in two and piercing your very heart.

“Are you alright?” He whispers, pulling back to gaze upon your face with his large, soft eyes.

You nod and shift your hips a little to adjust and he gulps audibly.

“Sorry,” You smile bashfully.

“Do not be,” He groans softly and squeezes you a fraction tighter. “I am the one that is the deviant here.” He teases.

You giggle and lick into his mouth eagerly when he leans forward and kisses you hungrily. Slowly he drags his right hand down to lightly stroke your clit with his thumb.

Your breathing hitches as he rubs soft circles and your hips buck instinctively.

He hums against your lips, “Ah, that’s it, my love,” his voice is thick and syrupy, “please take your pleasure from me.”

You squeeze his shoulders, arching your back ever so slightly so that you can roll your hips experimentally. He watches you move, his eyes lidded and thumb never faltering. Spikes of pleasure jolt up your spine, piercing into your nerves as he strokes you. Your movements start to grow, your body demanding that you chase your pleasure as you adjust completely to his size.

He presses his forehead to yours, breathing in your oxygen as you bounce on him. Slowly he starts to shallowly thrust upwards, the smallest movement of his hips and revels when you gasp, your eyes widening.

“There?” He mutters, so caught up in the feel of you, how you squeeze and soak his cock, how you cling to him so tightly.

You nod, hardly able to form words as he brushes the head of his cock against the same spot again.

The King moans softly, the wanton sound trickling into your ears and electrifying your bones. His thumb presses harder against your swollen clit and you can’t stop yourself, can’t hold back. Not when he’s looking at you like that and holding you so close.

You come with a sob, the sensation paralysing you for one long moment as pleasure spreads across your body. It’s gentle and slow, like a drawn out shiver running over your skin.

He keeps stroking as you shake in his arms, stilling only when you relax.

It's safe as he holds you, contentment bubbling in your chest as he kisses your sweaty temple. You’re quite sure it would truly be heaven just to stay like this with him forever.

Lightly you scratch your nails across his beard and he chuckles, moving back and kissing your cheek.

“I think…” he pauses, biting back a cheeky smile. “You have one more in you, yes?”

You can’t help but giggle at his expression, it’s playful but soft. Inviting your rejection if that is what you wish to give him.

“Yes, your Highness.” You stroke his neck, playing with the curls that brush against his nape.

He groans, squeezing your thigh as he kisses you messily. “You could get me to do anything you wanted by calling me that.”

“Could I?” You grin.

He nods. “I mean it, absolutely anything.” He kisses you again, softer and slower. But there’s pent up heat simmering underneath, threatening to break through at any given moment.

“I would give you anything.” You whisper as he sucks a love bite against your pulse point.

“You already have, my love.” He trails his lips lower, littering your chest with kisses before he laps at your nipples and moans in satisfaction as they pebble under his tongue.

His cock pulses in you, practically in time with the beating of his heart. He can’t help but rock slightly, just to take the edge off as he lavishes your chest with attention.

You moan as you cling onto him, moving your hips in a slow figure eight, deepening the shallow movements he’s making.

He gasps loudly, breaking the seal his lips have on your skin to let out the most sinful noises.

You can’t help yourself, you lean back a fraction so that you can watch him. Sliding one hand up his chest, you tilt his chin towards you, making him bare his neck.

He whines beautifully, gasping and bucking weakly, trying to hold himself back. You graze your teeth up his neck and he rewards you with a whimper, his air catching in his throat. His fingers squeeze your skin.

“You’re going to make me come if you keep doing that, my love,” he swallows his voice practically pleading. And you repeat the movement.

He groans loudly, the sound going straight to your core as you start to move more fiercely, more frantically.

A ball of tension is tightening in your belly, demanding control over your actions as pleasure spikes along your veins.

The King gasps, his balls drawing up. He presses his hand between your bodies and rubs your clit until you’re lightheaded and on the very edge.

He kisses you messily, warm and wet as he moves with you, pushing you closer and closer until you tense.

You swear, moaning in his embrace as your second orgasm washes over you. It keeps you in place as he thrusts up into you eagerly, his cries of pleasure harmonising with your own.

“God- my love,” He whines, swallowing down air as he quickly grabs your hips. “I’m sorry, I can’t-” He just manages to get enough space between your bodies to pull his cock out of you before he comes, spurting hot and thick over both of your stomachs. He groans loudly, pulling you closer so that he can smear his spend against yours and his skin.

Part of you laments it, in that moment. Selfishly wanting him to come in you. At least then you could pretend when Hugo… you could pretend your first child was the King’s instead.

The King hugs you fiercely, kissing your neck and soothing your tired and aching muscles. He coaxes you into laying down on your back while he wipes you both clean and then buries his face between your legs, making you shiver and shake and come one more time against his tongue.

He laments having to leave for the after ball breakfast, pouting a little until you giggle and playfully push his face away.

You help him to dress, kissing his cheeks when he tries to pull you into a more passionate embrace.

“You’ll be late, your Highness.”

“A King can’t be late.” He grins and you snort.

“Still.”

He hugs you closer, “Will you check on Guinevere for me?” He asks softly. The request surprises you a little, surely the King’s servants were taking good care of one of his treasured horses. But you nod, touched by the ask.

“Of course.”

“You are too good to me.” He kisses you again, and helps you to dress in the clothes you were wearing the night before. He keeps your hand in his as you leave his rooms until you have to part, he heads to the right, while you to the left.

You push all other thoughts out of your mind. Let them stay at the edge, knowing that they will haunt you later.

You’re barely at the stables, when the King’s head servant, Wymare, approaches you. It is strange to see him far from the King’s side. He bows formally, which only further confuses you, “Your help is needed in the dining hall.”

“Oh, I… Yes, of course.”

You follow him quickly as he escorts you, not giving you a second to think or explain where you were headed. You would check on Guinevere the moment you were finished.

He doesn’t lead you to the kitchen, as you expect, or even to the servants' entrance. Instead down a corridor you haven’t been before, and stops before a side door.

At first, it reminds you of the King’s personal entrance, but you must be mistaken.

“Here,” He opens an ornate side cupboard, in the weak light you can’t fully see what he is getting out. He places it around your shoulders, guiding your arms through. It’s a long, sleeveless waistcoat. He moves so quickly you don’t even get a chance to inspect it and assume it is some sort of formal hall attire all the servants are expected to wear.

He gives you a quick smile and another bow. “My lady.”

You pause, shocked. But don’t even have time to question him before he opens the door and lightly pushes you out.

The entire hall is watching you as you come out of the King’s private entrance. They are seated along the long table, the King at the head and closest to you.

For a second you catch Hugo’s gaze, he is sitting with his mother about halfway down the table. He gives you a quizzical expression and you quickly look away. Though, their position halfway down the table must sting a little. Before he and his mother had been seated much, much closer to the King, closer to his favour.

“Ah,” the King grins at you, the expression blinding as he stands, forcing all the nobles to quickly abandon their food and scrabble to their feet. “There you are, my beloved.” He holds out his hand to you and quirks an eyebrow. An undeniably cheeky expression plastered all over his face.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist 1:

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @steven-grants-world @blushingrn @to-be-a-sunshine

@angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin

@reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr

@spxctorsslxt @novarosewood @hammerhead96 @emma23 @arcanechariot

@sub-aro @killerdollz @maplemind @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist

@dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious @homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop

@oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus @lounilu @avengersinitiative2012

@pigeonmama @marcsb1tch @iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan

@faretheeoscar @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @twwcs @ingoldthewizard

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#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

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euon111a · 8 months ago

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Thinking about the Oscar Isaac as Prince/King John in RobinHood.

#robin hood #2010s movies #oscar isaac #oscar issac characters #prince john #king john #i need him #he’s in my head #feeling slutty #that poor nun bro #im starvin

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the-oscar-isaac-collective · 10 days ago

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Hello everyone!

Thanks for allowing myself and the other mods to take a little break following the Coffee & Cream Fanzine! I'm still so proud of that project and we're looking forward to the next big one.

In the meantime, we're putting on a little pride event! We're still ironing out some details, but here's what you should prepare for...

Both artists and writers are welcome!

Submissions for the event officially open June 1st. However, you can start working on your pieces any time between May 12, 2025 and the end of June.

Rules and guidelines for the event be posted on May 12, 2025.

This event is not another zine. Participants can publish their own works on their own pages. As long as your piece follows the guidelines we outline (the guidelines will be announced next week), we'll add your piece to our event masterlist.

One of Oscar Isaac's many characters needs to be the primary subject of the piece, however you can add any other canon, oc, or reader characters you like.

Any submissions have to involve LGBTQ+ themes.

Smut is optional (but always encouraged).

The event will go from June 1 - June 30, anything posted following June 30th will not be added to the masterpost.

Myself and the mods of this event will be putting together a list of prompts, tropes and themes for you to choose from and use in your piece.

Sorry I updated the poll to have better questions. If you voted already please vote again! Haha

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ivystoryweaver · 1 year 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 · 3 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 · 1 year 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 · 2 years 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.

—————————

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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flawless-v1ctory · 2 years 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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oddballwriter · 2 months ago

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Blue Blood and Rain by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction’s finale was just John going

“Here’s the noble lady that I’ve been courting this whole time! Yup. Definitely IS a noble and has been this whole time. Anyone who says anything else like how she was a chambermaid for another noble lady is clearly lying and or lost their mind because she’s been a noble lady this whole time. Yup. Totally. Everyone say hi to my noble lady girlfriend! Who is a noble lady. And nothing else! Never been anything else! Uh huh. Yup. Definitely. Okay bye! Let’s go my love, who’s been a noble lady this whole time and totally wasn’t a chambermaid less than 24 hours ago until I just decided she’s not anymore!”

#oscar isaac characters #king john #robin hood 2010 #king john x reader

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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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emma23 · 16 days ago

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Royal exceptions :

king John x reader

The sun was barely rising over the horizon, casting a pale light across the lavish chamber you found yourself in. You stirred under the silk sheets, half-asleep, your head still foggy from the events of the previous night. You didn’t want to admit it, but the room was much too comfortable for someone of your simple background, a stark contrast to the life you'd once known.

"Miss Y/N!" a loud knock came at the door, followed by an insistent voice. "Please wake up! You must wake up before our king! It’s a rule!"

Your eyes shot open. The panic was immediate—rules, expectations, and the constant pressure that came with being in the presence of royalty. You were about to push the blankets away and scramble out of bed when a soft chuckle interrupted your thoughts. Warm hands pulled you back down into the bed, and you felt the unmistakable weight of someone else’s body beside you.

"Shhh, don’t worry," a familiar voice whispered against your ear, low and amused. "The rules don’t apply to my future wife."

You turned your head slowly, your heart skipping a beat as you found yourself face to face with none other than King John himself. His expression was a mixture of smugness and mischief, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. His arm draped over your waist as he pulled you closer, making it impossible to escape his hold.

"Future wife?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "You’re joking, right?"

John laughed softly, his hand trailing up your arm lazily. "I never joke about matters of the throne. Or marriage."

You groaned internally. How had you even gotten yourself into this situation? Sure, John was arrogant, manipulative, and probably one of the worst rulers England had ever seen—but he was also infuriatingly charming, in a twisted way. It wasn’t hard to see how you’d fallen into his orbit, especially considering your knack for making bad decisions.

Still, this was a new level of bad decision-making. Sleeping with the king? That was one thing. But becoming his wife? You hadn’t exactly signed up for that.

"John, you can’t just—"

"Oh, but I can," he interrupted, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. "I’m the king. I can do whatever I want."

"That’s not how it works," you replied, trying to sound firm, though it was hard to argue when his hand was inching up your side in a way that was very distracting.

"Isn’t it?" he teased, leaning closer until his lips were barely brushing against your neck. "Why else would you be here, in my bed, if not for the inevitable?"

You squirmed, trying to pull away, but his grip only tightened. "Maybe because you’re insufferable and I make bad decisions."

John laughed again, his breath warm against your skin. "Insufferable? That’s a bit harsh. I prefer ‘irresistible.’"

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto your lips. "Oh please, your ego doesn’t need any more feeding."

He grinned wickedly. "You’re probably right. But, as your future king—and husband—might I remind you that my ego comes with certain... advantages?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. "Oh? And what exactly are those advantages?"

Without missing a beat, John flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a predatory glint in his eyes. "You’ll see soon enough," he whispered, his lips trailing dangerously close to yours.

Your heart pounded in your chest as his lips brushed against your neck, moving lower as he pinned you beneath him. His touch was deliberate, confident, as if he knew exactly what effect he had on you—and the worst part was, he did. King John was many things, but oblivious was not one of them.

"John," you managed to gasp as his hands began to explore, his mouth trailing heated kisses along your collarbone. "This... this isn’t exactly... proper."

"Proper?" He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his lips curling into a devious smile. "We’re well past proper, my love."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and despite every logical part of your brain screaming at you to stop, to get out of this bed and run as far from this arrogant man as possible, you didn’t move.

Instead, you kissed him.

It wasn’t slow or hesitant. It was hungry, filled with the frustration and tension that had been building between you two for weeks. His hands tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss, and you found yourself pulling him closer, your bodies pressed together with no room for doubt or hesitation.

"You see?" John murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "I told you—rules don’t apply to us."

You rolled your eyes, even as you kissed him again. "You’re impossible."

"And you love it," he shot back, his grin widening as he pulled you even closer, the heat between you both undeniable now.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of tangled sheets and stolen kisses. John’s arrogance had never been more apparent, nor more appealing in the twisted dynamic you’d found yourselves in. As much as you hated to admit it, there was something intoxicating about being wanted by a king—especially one as reckless and charming as John.

Hours later, the room was filled with the lazy warmth of the afternoon sun. You lay beside him, both of you catching your breath, the once-pristine bed now a chaotic mess.

"I can’t believe I’m saying this," you muttered, glancing over at John, who looked far too pleased with himself, "but that was... not entirely terrible."

John’s laugh was full of triumph as he turned to you, propping himself up on one elbow. "Not entirely terrible? That’s the best compliment I’ve gotten all day."

You smirked, shaking your head. "Don’t get used to it."

He grinned wickedly, leaning down to press a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. "Too late. I’m the king, remember? I’m used to getting exactly what I want."

You snorted, shoving him lightly. "You’re insufferable."

"And yet," he said with a smirk, "you can’t seem to stay away."

You were about to retort when the door creaked open slightly, and the servant’s voice called again from the hallway. "Miss Y/N! The king requests your presence at court!"

John groaned, pulling you closer and burying his face in your neck. "Tell them I’m busy."

You stifled a laugh, shaking your head. "John, you can’t just—"

"I can," he mumbled against your skin. "And I will. Besides..." He pulled back just enough to flash you a wicked grin. "I’d much rather stay here with my future wife."

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, John added with a smirk, "Besides, if they insist on dragging me to court, I’ll just tell them the rules don’t apply to us. You are going to be queen, after all."

"And what makes you so sure of that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

His grin widened as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against yours once more. "Because, my love, I always get what I want.

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

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 month ago

Text

Blue Blood and Rain [11] - Bonus

King John x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Summary: Set a few months after the main story. The King comforts you when you're on your period.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Kisses, pet names, period sex, p in v sex, cream pie, fingering, overuse of italics, power dynamics because he's the king, I have totally made up servant/noble dynamics because I wanted to, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 3405

You lay crouched up on your side in bed, your face buried into your pillow. Isabella had kindly warmed a metal bar in boiling water before wrapping it many times in fabric for you to press against your stomach, as well as bringing you a bitter tasting tea that she said helped with period pains.

You weren’t sure if it really did, but you’d take any help that you could at this point. You bite back a groan as a cramp pushes its blade deep into your belly.

The door opens, the sound far away in your hazy pain half sleep state.

“My love?” The King’s hand is soothing as he strokes your arm, his voice soft. He kisses your temple when you murmur a reply.

You had told him this morning to go about his duties as normal, practically begged him while you said that there was no cause for alarm or worry.

He had promptly ignored you and fetched the medicine women who were currently housed in the castle. It had amused you the first time you had found out that the King was wary of doctors. He had nearly died as a child, recalling how the continuous blood lettings and leeches had only made him weaker and weaker. How their sneering faces still leered at him in his nightmares.

It had been a medicine woman, brought to the castle as a last ditch attempt by his mother, who had given him herbs and poultice that finally broke the fever. It was now customary for several medicine women to be at the castle at once, training others and visiting villages up and down the country.

They had talked to the King gently, reassuring him that you were not at death’s door.

“You should be at your meetings.” You say quietly, half mumbling.

He walks around to climb onto the bed next to you, wrapping his arm over your side to cover your hand and helping to press the heat against your stomach as he hugs you. He kisses the back of your neck.

“I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“I do not like to see you in pain.”

“I’m sorry.”

He scoffs. “Do not be. This is not your fault.”

“It is… a little. It is my body, is it not?”

He tuts, shaking his head and kissing your shoulder. “Do not say such foolish things.”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “I don’t want to disrupt your day, Your Highness.”

“A King can do what he wants, and what I want is to lay with you.” He gives you a light squeeze. “If you’ll allow it.”

You smile weakly. “I allow it.”

You drift off into a weak, feverish sleep for a short while until you are rudely awakened by another tight grind of pain. You flinch, screwing up your face.

The King tightens his arm, curling his body closer to you as if he can shield you from your own body.

“Are you alright?” He asks gently.

You nod. “I am.”

He swallows, propping himself up a little so that he can see your face. “The wise women spoke with me about ways to help ease your discomfort.” He strokes your arm. “Later, or when you feel ready, a warm bath and some poppy tea?”

You turn onto your back so that you can look at him.

He strokes your cheek lovingly, his eyes soft.

“You’re too kind to me, Your Highness.”

He tuts again, but it’s good natured. “I wish I could rid you of this pain instantly.” Gently, as if you were so easily breakable, he leans down and kisses the tip of your nose before nuzzling against it with his own.

You grin, wrapping one arm around his neck and pull him to your lips. He kisses you lazily, licking into your mouth with a syrupy slowness that has you inching closer.

His hand slides to your hip, squeezing lightly as you urge him nearer, eagerly stroking his tongue with your own.

He hums happily, his warm breath from his nose hitting your cheek, and groaning when you nibble on his bottom lip.

“Hmm, my love.” He sighs, his eyes closed, his eyelashes fluttering and kissing his cheeks. He kisses you again, slow and desperate.

You can’t help but shift closer, moving your legs apart a little. Part of you wants him between them, to grind against him wantonly. Your cunt twitches, throbbing lightly at the thought as a spark of arousal settles in your bones.

He groans softly as you kiss him fiercely, settling on top of you.

You tug a little on his shirt. Maybe he could, could just rub against you. You shake your head slightly, he wouldn’t want that, you shouldn't want… Despite the ache of pain in your lower stomach, the thought is nonetheless inviting. Soothing almost.

The semi hard outline of his cock brushes against your thigh and he moans before cutting himself off and pulling back from your lips.

“I’m sorry, my love.” He breathes hard, his lips flushed and eyes still closed. “I do not mean to force my wants onto you-”

“Please?” You widen your legs, tug lightly on his shoulders, your body begging for him before you even have a chance to get a hold of yourself.

He opens his eyes wide, and you mistake his look of surprise for one of outrage.

“I’m sorry,” Your blurt out, your words running together. “I don’t mean-”

Without warning his lips are back on yours, kissing greedily as he runs his hands down your slides and gently kneads your inner thighs. He urges you wider, truly settling between your legs. He grinds his erection against your core, experimentally at first, his movements soft and light but quickly becoming harder when you groan against his lip and buck up to meet him.

“My love, my love,” He mutters into your mouth, drinking down your responses and sighs. “Let me… let me make love to you.” He moans, his voice dark and desperate. The richness of it runs along your veins, setting your skin alight.

“You want that?” You manage to breathe as he kisses your jaw and neck, pressing his lips and tongue to the fading love bites that litter your skin.

He growls, a shiver running through him. “So, so much. But only if you want it.”

You nod hazily, gasping as he palms your breast and flicks his thumb over your pebbling nipple. “I want it.”

“Fuck.” He kisses you again, robbing the air from your lungs. “The wise women told me sometimes it helps to ease monthly pain,” he tries to sit up, fighting his own body’s urge to stay as close to you as possible, as he pulls off his shirt. “And since then, I must confess, the thought has not left my mind.”

You run your hands along his chest, and he preens, arching into your touch. His skin is on fire under your fingers, begging for the soothing touch of your caress.

“Not that I came here to force you to-”

“You do not force me to do anything, Your Highness. I want you.”

He groans, his eyes rolling back when you scrape your thumbnails across his chest, catching his nipples. He shivers, letting out the smallest sound.

“It will be messy.” You say, uncertainly.

“God, I hope so.” He kisses you again eagerly, his tongue pillaging your mouth. He pulls up your nightdress, raking it up around your waist.

“Have you ever… before, with someone at this time?” You look up at him hesitantly, a small growing knot of worry in your chest is starting to outshine your arousal. What if he hates it? What if-

He shakes his head. “Never.” The look he gives you makes you weak. How his lips are parted, how dilated his eyes are. It’s like you're staring at the sun.

“We can stop at any time, my love. You say the word.”

“You as well.” You say firmly. “You want to stop, you say.” He smiles, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it. “I will, I promise.” He kisses your wrist, pressing his lips to the soft skin along your arm. His beard scrapes pleasantly, the sensation zinging along your nerves.

He helps you out of your nightdress slowly, easing it off you and groaning with each inch of skin that is revealed to him, as if he hadn’t seen you bare countless times before.

The look in his eyes is greedy, so needy, and it makes you light headed, almost dizzy to be wanted that badly. But he takes his time, urging you back onto the mattress and lightly kissing your throat, your collarbone, inching his lips down to your breasts as he settles between your legs.

His weight is comforting, familiar and secure and exciting. A thrill you still relish each chance you get.

Lightly, he presses his face to your chest, reaching up to palm your breast as he kisses your sternum softly. He nuzzles the side of your right breast, groaning as he trails his tongue over your skin and then laps at your nipple.

Without thinking, you sink your hand into his hair, pulling lightly at his curls, just how you know he likes. He smiles against you, flicking his tongue and then sucking eagerly.

You gasp, wriggling under him and pressing yourself closer to the sweet heat of his mouth. He groans louder, looking up at you with dark, lust blown eyes as he sucks gently, being careful not to overstimulate you in your sensitive state.

“Your Highness,” You whine, bucking up weakly against him, and he moans loudly, gulping as he closes his eyes to get a hold of himself.

He slips his right hand down your stomach slowly to press at your core through your undergarments firmly.

You swallow, your body jolting slightly as he brushes against your clit, the sensation sparking up your spine despite the layers of cloth that should dull it.

“May I take these off?” He asks, trying to keep his voice light and sweet despite how his cock throbs between his legs.

You nod, a little shly and he groans again, pressing his forehead into your breast for a moment.

“My love, please, you will make me come untouched with that look.”

You giggle and stroke his hair. “What look?”

He tuts playfully, lifting his head just enough to give you a glare. “You know which one.”

“I do not.” You try to suppress your laughter fruitlessly.

“Lies.” He pokes out his tongue and then kisses your chest repeatedly. “You look too sweet, you look too wanton, you look too delicious.”

You snort.

“You doubt your King?”

“I do.”

He fake gasps and sits up on his knees. “This outrage, I will not stand for it.”

“No?”

“No.” He shakes his head dramatically, trying and failing to hide his smile. “You simply must make it up to me.”

You grin. “With my mouth on you?”

He gives you a soft look, but shakes his head. “No, my sweetest thing,” he slowly pulls down your undergarments, lifting your hips and then your legs gently, “By coming for me.”

He swallows, running his warm hands up your legs and squeezing your inner thighs deliciously.

You moan softly, your back instinctively arching. Lightly, he urges your legs further apart, groaning low in his chest when he sees arousal mixed with your blood.

Oh so gently, he traces your outer lips with his fingers, barely skimming over your skin. He ghosts around your clit, pressing close but never quite where you need before rubbing your thighs again.

You swallow, the sound painfully loud as you try to control your rapid breathing.

He smiles, but does not tear his eyes away from your core. Slightly firmer this time, he caresses just around your clit. His touch is sure, precise, and your body bucks a little no matter how you try to stop it.

He never quite touches where you need, a fraction away from the source of your ache. It burns under your skin, building and growing, as wetness seeps out of you.

“Your Highness,” you start, unable to take anymore, but he grins wickedly, his eyes darting up to meet yours as he sinks two fingers inside agonisingly slowly at the same moment he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit.

Your gasp, a small whine breaking past your lips as he stretches you so wonderfully, as his thumb rocks against you in a maddening, alternating pressure that has you grabbing the bedsheets for dear life.

“There we are.” He groans, grinning and biting his lip as he moves his hand painfully slowly, revelling in how your breathing hitches and how your pussy clutches hold of him and tries to drag him deeper. “How does it feel?”

“Good.” You sob, pressing your head back against the pillow. “So good.”

He hums in satisfaction, stroking in and out. He watches your face eagerly as he kneels between your legs, glancing down to see your slick and blood smeared across his fingers as he pleasures you. The slight makes him groan, makes his cock throb even more for attention.

“I want you to feel good every second of every day,” he mutters, his voice thick. “It’s my duty to fight any pain that dares to touch you.”

Part of you hears him, but most of you is too lost in the feeling of his thick fingers. How he pushes and glides, the stretch burning away the dull ache of your cycle, the pressure on your clit making your blood sing and shiver.

“Please,” you whimper, but you’re not sure what you’re begging for.

He leans closer, bending forward on his knees to watch you with lidded eyes. “Anything, everything. All for you.”

“I want, I want you to…” You swallow, grinding down onto him and mewling when he presses firmly, your thighs shaking.

“Anything.” He repeats, gazing at you with the most love sick expression.

“Please, I want you to be completely inside,” you moan as he strokes perfectly, the pleasure almost agonising. “I want to feel you…”

“You want my cock?”

“I need your cock.” You sob and he groans, grinning.

“As my Lady needs.” He moves swiftly, putting his fingers from you with a practically obscene sound. He undoes his trousers quickly with his left hand, groaning when the pressure of the material finally eases off his aching cock.

He pumps himself twice with his right hand, smearing your blood and slick along his length before he lines himself up with your trance.

“Ready?” He raises an eyebrow at you teasingly.

You pull at his curls with one hand and his shoulder with the other, “Your Highness.” You say sternly and he chuckles.

“Of course, my love, of course.” He kisses you sweetly as he pushes inside, a low moan rumbling through his chest as your pussy flutters and squeezes the tip of his cock.

You gasp into his mouth, widening your legs and angling your hips to help him sink deeper.

The stretch is wonderful, soothing and overshadowing the ache of your pain.

The King groans your name, pressing his forehead against yours as he bottoms out. “God, you're holding me so tight,” he rocks gently, barely pulling out but rolling his hips hypnotically as he watches your face intently.

The dark patch of curls between his legs rubs against your clit and you whine, your body trembling.

He grins, his eyes lighting up. With every buck he adjusts the angle slightly, stroking the tip of his cock against your fluttering walls until your steady moan becomes a gasp and your grasp on his biceps tighten.

He hums, satisfied, focusing utterly on caressing the same spot again and again.

You shake, almost trying to squirm away from the deep current of pleasure that’s building and pulsing at the heart of you. Your breath catches in your throat, your cries growing in pitch as he utterly destroys you, taking you apart piece by piece.

“That’s it…” He breathes heavily, groaning with each roll and thrust. He can feel his end fast approaching, the sensation building and building in his lower spine, and so ready to explode at any given moment. “That’s it, my love.”

He swallows hard as he fights and loses against the urge to pick up the pace, to fuck you harder. This is meant to be for your pleasure, to help you. But he just can’t help himself, his body betraying him as he loses himself in the feel of you.

You’re so close, the sweetness of it is already on your tongue. You rock up to meet his thrusts, holding onto him for dear life.

He can’t help but glance down to where you’re both connected, his eyes rolling back at the sight. The sound that rumbles through his chest is primal, animalistic as he watches your arousal and blood coat his cock as he bullies it in and out of you.

“You take me so well,” he gasps, one hand squeezing your thigh, spreading you wider. “You- You’re too good for me.” He swallows, his stomach tightening. “I’m, I’m,” he bites his lip, trying in vain to hold back from the pleasure that is draining his will. “God, please, let me come in you.” He closes his eyes, a high pitched whine leaving his lips.

You moan loudly, his words pushing you over the edge. You come hard on his cock, pulsing and writhing under him as you sob his name. Your hands squeeze his arms, your left leg hooking around his hips to keep him inside.

He gasps, his thrust stuttering as he swears loudly and comes inside you hot and thick, moaning and whimpering as your walls flutter and pulse and suck him so deep.

He doesn’t mean to collapse against you, practically pinning you to the bed, but all his energy seems to leave him in an instant.

A half mumbled apology leaves his lips, but you cut him off, kissing his temple and wrapping your arms around him, keeping him close.

You breathe hard, your heartbeat slowly returning to normal.

“I’m sure we’ve made such a mess.” You mutter, but you’re too exhausted to do anything about it at the moment.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbles into your neck. “I’ll get up in a moment, ask for a bath to be run for us both to enjoy while the bed is changed.”

“I should-”

“You should do nothing but relax.” He raises his head a fraction to give you a soft look and smile. “Obey your King.”

You giggle. “Yes, Your Highness.”

He groans softly, his cock twitching in your heat. “Maybe give me a few minutes, and we can continue once more before the bath?”

You laugh louder at the purposefully cheeky look he gives you.

“Is that an order?” You smile.

But he shakes his head instantly, despite the playful expression on his face. “Never.”

“Well, I agree to it anyway.”

Gently, he strokes your cheek before he kisses you lightly. “How are you feeling?”

You nod. “Better.”

“Good.”

“Though, I fear I might have to have the King’s cock in me all week to help ease the pain.”

“Ahh, what a chore.” He puts his hand to his head dramatically. “Needs must, I suppose.” His grin widens when you giggle again.

“Is it…” He pauses, “I hope you did not feel like you had to…”

“Had to?”

“Had to let me,” he pauses and takes a deep breath. “I did not talk with you beforehand about coming inside, I’m sorry, I became caught up and-”

You kiss him quickly to cut off his words, only breaking away to rub your nose soothingly against his. “You asked, I wanted it too.”

“Hmm,” he smiles. “You did?”

You nod, and he puffs his chest out a little.

“I know it is normally safe to do so during this time…” He strokes your neck absentmindedly, tracing your collarbone lightly. “But it is not… foolproof…”

“I have no objections either way.” You say a little shyly, but the blindingly soft look he gives you washes any worry away.

“You do not?”

You shake your head, and he beams. “I love you so much,” softly, he licks into your mouth. “So very, very much.”

Thank you for reading!

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soft-persephone · 11 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 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.

He . . . Walked.

To where, he wasn’t sure. He just walked.

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 head start.

Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, he kept walking.

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 had 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 earth 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. . . . 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 even know they 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 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 gave 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 petty 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 avoided his gaze, looking unit he 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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