Content Warnings: 18+, unprotected anal sex, references of past sexual encounters, knifeplay, blood, violent intrusive thoughts, stalking?? (kinda, I guess?? Noah is watching will sleep)
Word Count: 2k
A/N: this has been my plan since the very first part, so, forgive me. also, the last scene was a kind of a last minute decision bc I had I Know Where You Sleep by Ten56. on repeat for a little bit one day.
divider by saradika-graphics
The knife danced softly across Will's thigh, slow and languid. Noah let him have his thoughtless little moment—head tipped back and eyes closed, mouth parted with quiet, little gasps—as he just as leisurely rode him. When he wanted Will's stupid, glossed over eyes back on his, he'd just have to slice into him. A shudder paired with a filthy moan that would tempt Noah to do it again. And maybe he would, if Will looked at him pathetically hopeful enough.
But Noah didn't have to. Not yet. Will's eyes fluttered open as he rolled his hips with more determination. A breathless swear escaped his kiss bitten lips and he leaned forward, planting trembling arms and hands on Noah's sweaty chest. His unsteady gaze found Noah's and locked, mouth still parted.
Noah had the thought to slip the blade between Will's small, perfect, pretty little lips, fuck his mouth with it until crimson came in a steady flow so he could use it as lubricant to shove his cock down Will's throat and finish there instead—he almost did; he raised the knife to Will's waiting mouth, he even opened wider for Noah, but he stopped just shy. The blade rested on Will's bottom lip, begging him to do it.
"I want to fuck you up so badly." Noah rasped.
Will huffed, the corner of his mouth lifting. He wrapped a hand around his leaking cock and sighed.
"You do," Will panted. "All the time."
He bent down just close to enough to tease Noah with a feather light, barely there brushing of lips; it could hardly be called a kiss.
"It's hot."
No. That's not what Noah meant. He wanted to hurt Will. Hurt him. Bleed him. Cut him. Cut him. Cut him. Stab him. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.
Noah grabbed Will by the throat, startling a gasp out of him. He positioned the knife to his stomach.
"I want to fuck you with this," Noah corrected, voice emotionless. "So, so badly."
As gears slowly started turning in Will's head, more obscene, violent images flashed in Noah's, beyond the usual desire to carve into Will whatever he pleased. His blood was such a beautiful shade of red and delectable on his tongue. Noah wanted more of it, so much more. The initials scarred on Will's flesh, collars with his name, the—reluctant—public eye was no longer enough for him. Truthfully, it scared Noah, this sudden carnal and… borderline psychotic desire, but that was normal when you loved someone, right? To want to devour them whole, maim them and caress inside out? Outside in?
Will let out a nervous chuckle, expression faltering. "What do you mean?"
The knife's point bit into Will's flesh, not enough to cut or pierce but enough for his breath to hitch.
"I want to fucking stab you."
Steam drifted up, dancing in the air as Will stared out into the trees, thoughts racing so quickly they may as well have been still, waiting for his coffee to cool. Somewhere in the house, the cats were zooming. A blue jay landed on the railing outside. It seemed to have looked right at Will before squawking loudly and taking off. And Will continued to stare—stare, stare, stare until the tree line burned his retinas. He could see it in his cup as he took a tentative sip.
The automatic cat feeder went off and Will smiled, chuckling softly hearing his beloved furry son and daughter rush to it. He watched them devour their kibble like they've never had a meal in their entire lives. He decided he would spoil them later with wet food.
Other than the crunching of "starving felines", the house was quiet. The quietest it's been since Noah returned to LA over a month ago. The quietest since Will decided he was ending things.
Will loved Noah, so much it made his chest ache. He was so kind, thoughtful, funny, attractive, and so humble and down to earth in a way Will envied. The reservations and concerns his friends had of him and the marks inflicted mattered nothing to Will, because he knew Noah. They didn't know Will wanted Noah to hurt him.
He loved the way his hand felt around his throat, the force he could use to change the color of his face to match the bruises sucked into his skin. He loved the bright red welts on his cheeks—face and ass. Noah was so fucking good at humiliating him and he loved it. Will loved bleeding for him, being the reason he sharpened knives. He loved when Noah would cut his initials, his name into his flesh, because not even the collars were enough to brand him as his. PRETTY BOY, PROPERTY OF NOAH. That's all Will ever wanted to be.
At least, he did, up until the point Noah said he wanted to stab him. And he very nearly did.
After the confession, Noah had grabbed Will and pulled their chests flush. It happened so quick he hardly had time to think, let alone say anything. Will let out a cry, thinking he'd ben stabbed when he felt the hot edge sliding against his waist. But Noah only mimicked it, over and over, matching, mirroring thrusts with the knife and his cock inside Will. He hadn't been nearly as into it as Noah, but he allowed him to fill him with warm seed, mostly because he was scared and Will himself was already so close.
Will still donned ragged, scabbed over cuts from the excursion. Sometimes they'd crack and bleed, and Noah wasn't around to clean them.
Being followed home and held at knife point while Noah jerked him off then forcing him to his knees to blow him was merely a blip to that; insignificant.
In a different universe, maybe they could work out. Maybe there was a version of Will that could willingly indulge more in Noah's growing unhinged desires. Maybe there was one where neither of them were twisted and mangled and just… existed together profoundly in love and making a life together. He's dreamed it once or thrice.
Because Will loves Noah. And it's because he loves Noah that he has to break him.
Will turned his attention to the bag sitting on the counter. Noah's flight was delayed which meant he had to wait. Will hoped he didn't lose his nerve by then.
He supposed all the reasons he loved Noah were the same why he shouldn't. Will hoped he didn't break too badly, too.
Noah closed the trunk and gave the driver a wave, sending them on their way. Suitcase rolling behind him, he walked the short distance up to Will's door. He smiled when he saw him step out, but faltered when he shut it behind him.
"Hey," Noah greeted. He attempted to kiss Will's cheek but he turned his head.
There was a bag in Will's hand and his heart picked up pace.
"What's in the bag?" He nodded towards it.
Will looked down at the inconspicuous brown bag, handles intertwined and clutched tightly in his fingers. Without a word, he handed it to Noah.
Inside were leather necklaces, some no thicker than his finger, others a few fingers. Confused, Noah pulled one out—except they weren't necklaces. The bag was filled with Will's collars. The first one he grabbed was PET—a simple black leather band with brushed nickel lettering, by far the least impressive of the collection. BOYFRIEND, the next one, was three fingers thick with the top and bottom edges adorned, bedazzled with gems and shiny, glittery gemmed silver lettering.
He held it up in question.
"I… can't do this anymore." Will's voice was firm, but Noah heard the slight pitch, the crack he tried to hide.
"Do what anymore?"
Will gestured between them. "This. Us."
"Wha—" Noah started, but stopped. He tried again, starting several sentences but failing to complete any of them. So, he settled on, "Why?"
"You almost stabbed me, Noah."
Noah looked at Will then the bag and back again. He opened his mouth but no words came out. What could he say, really? He was blindsided and also had no defense. They didn't talk about it, so Noah assumed it was fine.
"Can we go inside and talk about this?" He made a move to step around Will, but Will out a hand to his chest and gently pushed him back.
"No." Will's voice was stern, leaving no room for argument but—
"Why?" Noah wavered. His eyes flicked between Will's, desperately searching for anything that told him his mind could be changed. All he saw was pain; pain inflicted by him that wasn't pleasurable.
"If I let you in," Will started, sucking in a shaky breath. "I'll cave."
"So cave!"
The bag dropped from his hands. He gripped Will's hands; he didn't pull away, but he did look elsewhere.
"I've already decided—"
"But I haven't!" Noah interrupted. "Will, please."
Will blink rapidly and slowly plucked his hands from Noah's. "I'm sorry."
Noah watched him turn away. Just like that? That's it? Over… broken up… Just like that? Like they were nothing? Because Noah got a little intense? It was more than that, Noah knew, but it was hard to think rationally with a shattered heart.
In a final, desperate attempt before Will disappeared, Noah said, "But I love you!"
He hardly recognized the frail, broken sound of his own voice.
"I love you, too."
If that wasn't enough for the rest of his heart to break, watching the door shut in his face and hearing the lock certainly was.
Will slept peacefully; deeply. The rise and fall of his chest steady, lips parted and quiet snores escaping. In the comfort and safety of his own home, he wore only boxer briefs—and his bonnet. Hair washing day.
Slivers of moonlight peaked through half closed curtains, bathing parts of his exposed body in the radiant light. His cuts bore fresh blood, small little pinholes that would undoubtedly stain his sheet.
God, isn't he beautiful?, Noah thought.
It would be so easy to crawl in beside him, wrap their bodies together, pretend the evening never happened, and that Noah didn't sit on Will's doorstep for far too long, lingering like a stray. He knew where Will kept his knife; he could carve an apology in his unmarked skin; or Will could turn the blade on him, show him just how badly he hurt him.
Noah instead chose to just watch his beloved kitten sleep. If he woke him, he'd feel guilty.
The break up would probably hit him when he returned home, possibly even mid flight, but right now Noah was still in denial, in shock. His kitten still loved him and wanted him and would be purring for him again in no time. He just needed to sleep; Will wasn't thinking straight, that's all.
In the darkness, Noah offered a small smile as he crouched beside the bed and continued to admire Will. Unable to resist, he traced the edge of his jaw with his knuckle, feather light so he wouldn't wake him.
"I love you so much, you know that?" Noah whispered. "I know you love me too. You just had a bad day, that's all. You don't need to apologize, but I forgive you."
Will stirred and Noah froze. But he didn't wake; he adjusted slightly then sighed heavily. He looked so peaceful and content in slumber. It made Noah's chest ache. It was his turn to sigh.
"You've always been so good and obedient for me," he started, staring at Will's closed and unmoving eyes, "I guess I can be obedient for you."
Noah pressed his lips to Will's forehead, hoping he wouldn't wake him, but also not caring if he did. He waited for a reaction. When he received none, he pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.
Before leaving, Noah left a note and key where Will was sure to see it the next morning.
You should see about changing the locks. I love you
Jester's here, hello. Dropping "spit," "stagger," and "staunch(ly)" for Will and Noah. (The alliteration was intentional. I'm easily amused.)
A little Pretty Boy for you 🤲🏻🫀
Admittedly, going to watch them side stage was a bad idea. Under different circumstances, it would have been fine. Every one of his band mates advised against it, none more so than Austin, but Will assured him and the others it was fine. He reasoned it was better than escaping into the crowd, lest a fan see him and potentially bombard him with questions he did not want to answer truthfully.
Austin fixed him with a look and said "Don't do anything fucking stupid," and Will gave him his word. He was a sucker for a good show, and Bad Omens put on a great one.
Half the set went by before Will managed to catch it. He stayed as hidden as he could, tucked away and leaning over a box of unused equipment as he watched Noah in his element. Singing and screaming like he didn't break his heart not that long ago—or maybe he was. Will could feel more emotion than usual in his voice.
For the most part, he went unnoticed. A few people asked if he needed anything, and Nicholas' gaze snagged on him more than once. But towards the end of Dethrone, someone hurried by with a large sword and Noah quickly came to me them. He thanked them with a smile that instantly fell the second he saw Will.
Panicked, Will stood still, watching a plethora of emotions play on his face—shock first, then happiness, confusion; anger then sadness. Finally, nothing, which hurt more than Will wanted to admit.
Noah swiftly departed back to the stage, sucking the breath from Will in the process. He deflated, dropping his head in his hands and shut his eyes to steady himself. Stupid. This was fucking stupid.
He barely watched the last of the performance. He should leave; he wanted to leave, but his legs and feet kept him firmly in place.
"Stalking me?"
Will glanced up, catching sight of Noah as he spit. He looked around, seeing the hustle and bustle of stage hands and crew scurrying to dismantle and set up for the next band. His eyes fell back to Noah, who stood waiting for answer, sword still in hand. He raised a brow. Oh. He asked him something. What—oh, yeah. The question left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Uh, no." Will said. "I just wanted to come see you guys."
"Hm." Noah nodded, a smirk curving his lips. "That's sweet of you, coming to see your ex's band. Do you miss me that much?"
Any guilt he felt about the break up dissolved. Yeah. This was fucking stupid.
Will rolled his eyes, getting a genuine laugh out of Noah. It only served to irritate him more. He pushed off the equipment box and walked around it. A cable snagged his foot and he staggered, nearly falling face first—but Noah was quick to to catch him.
"Careful," Noah all but purred, "Wouldn't want you to fall for me again."
Will scoffed. "Don't worry, I won't."
Dark eyes bore into him, freezing him in place. Sweat and musk invaded his nostrils, mingling easily with memories of past excursions and attempts to drown himself in that scent.
"No? Is that why you're still wearing one of your collars?" His voice was low as he spoke, eyes falling to the silver chain—one of the few discreet day collars Will kept because it was simply just a necklace. It meant nothing in the way of being claimed by Noah now, he staunchly held that thought, but presently, Will felt it waver.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Will deflected.
Noah smiled, knowing and mischievous; Will mostly succeeded in hiding his shiver.
"Whatever you say, kitten. By the way, did you get your locks changed? It would be a real shame if someone came in unannounced, don't you think?"
Content Warnings: 18+, unprotected anal sex, references of past sexual encounters, knifeplay, blood, violent intrusive thoughts, stalking?? (kinda, I guess?? Noah is watching will sleep)
Word Count: 2k
A/N: this has been my plan since the very first part, so, forgive me. also, the last scene was a kind of a last minute decision bc I had I Know Where You Sleep by Ten56. on repeat for a little bit one day.
divider by saradika-graphics
The knife danced softly across Will's thigh, slow and languid. Noah let him have his thoughtless little moment—head tipped back and eyes closed, mouth parted with quiet, little gasps—as he just as leisurely rode him. When he wanted Will's stupid, glossed over eyes back on his, he'd just have to slice into him. A shudder paired with a filthy moan that would tempt Noah to do it again. And maybe he would, if Will looked at him pathetically hopeful enough.
But Noah didn't have to. Not yet. Will's eyes fluttered open as he rolled his hips with more determination. A breathless swear escaped his kiss bitten lips and he leaned forward, planting trembling arms and hands on Noah's sweaty chest. His unsteady gaze found Noah's and locked, mouth still parted.
Noah had the thought to slip the blade between Will's small, perfect, pretty little lips, fuck his mouth with it until crimson came in a steady flow so he could use it as lubricant to shove his cock down Will's throat and finish there instead—he almost did; he raised the knife to Will's waiting mouth, he even opened wider for Noah, but he stopped just shy. The blade rested on Will's bottom lip, begging him to do it.
"I want to fuck you up so badly." Noah rasped.
Will huffed, the corner of his mouth lifting. He wrapped a hand around his leaking cock and sighed.
"You do," Will panted. "All the time."
He bent down just close to enough to tease Noah with a feather light, barely there brushing of lips; it could hardly be called a kiss.
"It's hot."
No. That's not what Noah meant. He wanted to hurt Will. Hurt him. Bleed him. Cut him. Cut him. Cut him. Stab him. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.
Noah grabbed Will by the throat, startling a gasp out of him. He positioned the knife to his stomach.
"I want to fuck you with this," Noah corrected, voice emotionless. "So, so badly."
As gears slowly started turning in Will's head, more obscene, violent images flashed in Noah's, beyond the usual desire to carve into Will whatever he pleased. His blood was such a beautiful shade of red and delectable on his tongue. Noah wanted more of it, so much more. The initials scarred on Will's flesh, collars with his name, the—reluctant—public eye was no longer enough for him. Truthfully, it scared Noah, this sudden carnal and… borderline psychotic desire, but that was normal when you loved someone, right? To want to devour them whole, maim them and caress inside out? Outside in?
Will let out a nervous chuckle, expression faltering. "What do you mean?"
The knife's point bit into Will's flesh, not enough to cut or pierce but enough for his breath to hitch.
"I want to fucking stab you."
Steam drifted up, dancing in the air as Will stared out into the trees, thoughts racing so quickly they may as well have been still, waiting for his coffee to cool. Somewhere in the house, the cats were zooming. A blue jay landed on the railing outside. It seemed to have looked right at Will before squawking loudly and taking off. And Will continued to stare—stare, stare, stare until the tree line burned his retinas. He could see it in his cup as he took a tentative sip.
The automatic cat feeder went off and Will smiled, chuckling softly hearing his beloved furry son and daughter rush to it. He watched them devour their kibble like they've never had a meal in their entire lives. He decided he would spoil them later with wet food.
Other than the crunching of "starving felines", the house was quiet. The quietest it's been since Noah returned to LA over a month ago. The quietest since Will decided he was ending things.
Will loved Noah, so much it made his chest ache. He was so kind, thoughtful, funny, attractive, and so humble and down to earth in a way Will envied. The reservations and concerns his friends had of him and the marks inflicted mattered nothing to Will, because he knew Noah. They didn't know Will wanted Noah to hurt him.
He loved the way his hand felt around his throat, the force he could use to change the color of his face to match the bruises sucked into his skin. He loved the bright red welts on his cheeks—face and ass. Noah was so fucking good at humiliating him and he loved it. Will loved bleeding for him, being the reason he sharpened knives. He loved when Noah would cut his initials, his name into his flesh, because not even the collars were enough to brand him as his. PRETTY BOY, PROPERTY OF NOAH. That's all Will ever wanted to be.
At least, he did, up until the point Noah said he wanted to stab him. And he very nearly did.
After the confession, Noah had grabbed Will and pulled their chests flush. It happened so quick he hardly had time to think, let alone say anything. Will let out a cry, thinking he'd ben stabbed when he felt the hot edge sliding against his waist. But Noah only mimicked it, over and over, matching, mirroring thrusts with the knife and his cock inside Will. He hadn't been nearly as into it as Noah, but he allowed him to fill him with warm seed, mostly because he was scared and Will himself was already so close.
Will still donned ragged, scabbed over cuts from the excursion. Sometimes they'd crack and bleed, and Noah wasn't around to clean them.
Being followed home and held at knife point while Noah jerked him off then forcing him to his knees to blow him was merely a blip to that; insignificant.
In a different universe, maybe they could work out. Maybe there was a version of Will that could willingly indulge more in Noah's growing unhinged desires. Maybe there was one where neither of them were twisted and mangled and just… existed together profoundly in love and making a life together. He's dreamed it once or thrice.
Because Will loves Noah. And it's because he loves Noah that he has to break him.
Will turned his attention to the bag sitting on the counter. Noah's flight was delayed which meant he had to wait. Will hoped he didn't lose his nerve by then.
He supposed all the reasons he loved Noah were the same why he shouldn't. Will hoped he didn't break too badly, too.
Noah closed the trunk and gave the driver a wave, sending them on their way. Suitcase rolling behind him, he walked the short distance up to Will's door. He smiled when he saw him step out, but faltered when he shut it behind him.
"Hey," Noah greeted. He attempted to kiss Will's cheek but he turned his head.
There was a bag in Will's hand and his heart picked up pace.
"What's in the bag?" He nodded towards it.
Will looked down at the inconspicuous brown bag, handles intertwined and clutched tightly in his fingers. Without a word, he handed it to Noah.
Inside were leather necklaces, some no thicker than his finger, others a few fingers. Confused, Noah pulled one out—except they weren't necklaces. The bag was filled with Will's collars. The first one he grabbed was PET—a simple black leather band with brushed nickel lettering, by far the least impressive of the collection. BOYFRIEND, the next one, was three fingers thick with the top and bottom edges adorned, bedazzled with gems and shiny, glittery gemmed silver lettering.
He held it up in question.
"I… can't do this anymore." Will's voice was firm, but Noah heard the slight pitch, the crack he tried to hide.
"Do what anymore?"
Will gestured between them. "This. Us."
"Wha—" Noah started, but stopped. He tried again, starting several sentences but failing to complete any of them. So, he settled on, "Why?"
"You almost stabbed me, Noah."
Noah looked at Will then the bag and back again. He opened his mouth but no words came out. What could he say, really? He was blindsided and also had no defense. They didn't talk about it, so Noah assumed it was fine.
"Can we go inside and talk about this?" He made a move to step around Will, but Will out a hand to his chest and gently pushed him back.
"No." Will's voice was stern, leaving no room for argument but—
"Why?" Noah wavered. His eyes flicked between Will's, desperately searching for anything that told him his mind could be changed. All he saw was pain; pain inflicted by him that wasn't pleasurable.
"If I let you in," Will started, sucking in a shaky breath. "I'll cave."
"So cave!"
The bag dropped from his hands. He gripped Will's hands; he didn't pull away, but he did look elsewhere.
"I've already decided—"
"But I haven't!" Noah interrupted. "Will, please."
Will blink rapidly and slowly plucked his hands from Noah's. "I'm sorry."
Noah watched him turn away. Just like that? That's it? Over… broken up… Just like that? Like they were nothing? Because Noah got a little intense? It was more than that, Noah knew, but it was hard to think rationally with a shattered heart.
In a final, desperate attempt before Will disappeared, Noah said, "But I love you!"
He hardly recognized the frail, broken sound of his own voice.
"I love you, too."
If that wasn't enough for the rest of his heart to break, watching the door shut in his face and hearing the lock certainly was.
Will slept peacefully; deeply. The rise and fall of his chest steady, lips parted and quiet snores escaping. In the comfort and safety of his own home, he wore only boxer briefs—and his bonnet. Hair washing day.
Slivers of moonlight peaked through half closed curtains, bathing parts of his exposed body in the radiant light. His cuts bore fresh blood, small little pinholes that would undoubtedly stain his sheet.
God, isn't he beautiful?, Noah thought.
It would be so easy to crawl in beside him, wrap their bodies together, pretend the evening never happened, and that Noah didn't sit on Will's doorstep for far too long, lingering like a stray. He knew where Will kept his knife; he could carve an apology in his unmarked skin; or Will could turn the blade on him, show him just how badly he hurt him.
Noah instead chose to just watch his beloved kitten sleep. If he woke him, he'd feel guilty.
The break up would probably hit him when he returned home, possibly even mid flight, but right now Noah was still in denial, in shock. His kitten still loved him and wanted him and would be purring for him again in no time. He just needed to sleep; Will wasn't thinking straight, that's all.
In the darkness, Noah offered a small smile as he crouched beside the bed and continued to admire Will. Unable to resist, he traced the edge of his jaw with his knuckle, feather light so he wouldn't wake him.
"I love you so much, you know that?" Noah whispered. "I know you love me too. You just had a bad day, that's all. You don't need to apologize, but I forgive you."
Will stirred and Noah froze. But he didn't wake; he adjusted slightly then sighed heavily. He looked so peaceful and content in slumber. It made Noah's chest ache. It was his turn to sigh.
"You've always been so good and obedient for me," he started, staring at Will's closed and unmoving eyes, "I guess I can be obedient for you."
Noah pressed his lips to Will's forehead, hoping he wouldn't wake him, but also not caring if he did. He waited for a reaction. When he received none, he pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.
Before leaving, Noah left a note and key where Will was sure to see it the next morning.
You should see about changing the locks. I love you
Jester's here, hello. Dropping "spit," "stagger," and "staunch(ly)" for Will and Noah. (The alliteration was intentional. I'm easily amused.)
A little Pretty Boy for you 🤲🏻🫀
Admittedly, going to watch them side stage was a bad idea. Under different circumstances, it would have been fine. Every one of his band mates advised against it, none more so than Austin, but Will assured him and the others it was fine. He reasoned it was better than escaping into the crowd, lest a fan see him and potentially bombard him with questions he did not want to answer truthfully.
Austin fixed him with a look and said "Don't do anything fucking stupid," and Will gave him his word. He was a sucker for a good show, and Bad Omens put on a great one.
Half the set went by before Will managed to catch it. He stayed as hidden as he could, tucked away and leaning over a box of unused equipment as he watched Noah in his element. Singing and screaming like he didn't break his heart not that long ago—or maybe he was. Will could feel more emotion than usual in his voice.
For the most part, he went unnoticed. A few people asked if he needed anything, and Nicholas' gaze snagged on him more than once. But towards the end of Dethrone, someone hurried by with a large sword and Noah quickly came to me them. He thanked them with a smile that instantly fell the second he saw Will.
Panicked, Will stood still, watching a plethora of emotions play on his face—shock first, then happiness, confusion; anger then sadness. Finally, nothing, which hurt more than Will wanted to admit.
Noah swiftly departed back to the stage, sucking the breath from Will in the process. He deflated, dropping his head in his hands and shut his eyes to steady himself. Stupid. This was fucking stupid.
He barely watched the last of the performance. He should leave; he wanted to leave, but his legs and feet kept him firmly in place.
"Stalking me?"
Will glanced up, catching sight of Noah as he spit. He looked around, seeing the hustle and bustle of stage hands and crew scurrying to dismantle and set up for the next band. His eyes fell back to Noah, who stood waiting for answer, sword still in hand. He raised a brow. Oh. He asked him something. What—oh, yeah. The question left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Uh, no." Will said. "I just wanted to come see you guys."
"Hm." Noah nodded, a smirk curving his lips. "That's sweet of you, coming to see your ex's band. Do you miss me that much?"
Any guilt he felt about the break up dissolved. Yeah. This was fucking stupid.
Will rolled his eyes, getting a genuine laugh out of Noah. It only served to irritate him more. He pushed off the equipment box and walked around it. A cable snagged his foot and he staggered, nearly falling face first—but Noah was quick to to catch him.
"Careful," Noah all but purred, "Wouldn't want you to fall for me again."
Will scoffed. "Don't worry, I won't."
Dark eyes bore into him, freezing him in place. Sweat and musk invaded his nostrils, mingling easily with memories of past excursions and attempts to drown himself in that scent.
"No? Is that why you're still wearing one of your collars?" His voice was low as he spoke, eyes falling to the silver chain—one of the few discreet day collars Will kept because it was simply just a necklace. It meant nothing in the way of being claimed by Noah now, he staunchly held that thought, but presently, Will felt it waver.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Will deflected.
Noah smiled, knowing and mischievous; Will mostly succeeded in hiding his shiver.
"Whatever you say, kitten. By the way, did you get your locks changed? It would be a real shame if someone came in unannounced, don't you think?"
Jester's here, hello. Dropping "spit," "stagger," and "staunch(ly)" for Will and Noah. (The alliteration was intentional. I'm easily amused.)
A little Pretty Boy for you 🤲🏻🫀
Admittedly, going to watch them side stage was a bad idea. Under different circumstances, it would have been fine. Every one of his band mates advised against it, none more so than Austin, but Will assured him and the others it was fine. He reasoned it was better than escaping into the crowd, lest a fan see him and potentially bombard him with questions he did not want to answer truthfully.
Austin fixed him with a look and said "Don't do anything fucking stupid," and Will gave him his word. He was a sucker for a good show, and Bad Omens put on a great one.
Half the set went by before Will managed to catch it. He stayed as hidden as he could, tucked away and leaning over a box of unused equipment as he watched Noah in his element. Singing and screaming like he didn't break his heart not that long ago—or maybe he was. Will could feel more emotion than usual in his voice.
For the most part, he went unnoticed. A few people asked if he needed anything, and Nicholas' gaze snagged on him more than once. But towards the end of Dethrone, someone hurried by with a large sword and Noah quickly came to me them. He thanked them with a smile that instantly fell the second he saw Will.
Panicked, Will stood still, watching a plethora of emotions play on his face—shock first, then happiness, confusion; anger then sadness. Finally, nothing, which hurt more than Will wanted to admit.
Noah swiftly departed back to the stage, sucking the breath from Will in the process. He deflated, dropping his head in his hands and shut his eyes to steady himself. Stupid. This was fucking stupid.
He barely watched the last of the performance. He should leave; he wanted to leave, but his legs and feet kept him firmly in place.
"Stalking me?"
Will glanced up, catching sight of Noah as he spit. He looked around, seeing the hustle and bustle of stage hands and crew scurrying to dismantle and set up for the next band. His eyes fell back to Noah, who stood waiting for answer, sword still in hand. He raised a brow. Oh. He asked him something. What—oh, yeah. The question left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Uh, no." Will said. "I just wanted to come see you guys."
"Hm." Noah nodded, a smirk curving his lips. "That's sweet of you, coming to see your ex's band. Do you miss me that much?"
Any guilt he felt about the break up dissolved. Yeah. This was fucking stupid.
Will rolled his eyes, getting a genuine laugh out of Noah. It only served to irritate him more. He pushed off the equipment box and walked around it. A cable snagged his foot and he staggered, nearly falling face first—but Noah was quick to to catch him.
"Careful," Noah all but purred, "Wouldn't want you to fall for me again."
Will scoffed. "Don't worry, I won't."
Dark eyes bore into him, freezing him in place. Sweat and musk invaded his nostrils, mingling easily with memories of past excursions and attempts to drown himself in that scent.
"No? Is that why you're still wearing one of your collars?" His voice was low as he spoke, eyes falling to the silver chain—one of the few discreet day collars Will kept because it was simply just a necklace. It meant nothing in the way of being claimed by Noah now, he staunchly held that thought, but presently, Will felt it waver.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Will deflected.
Noah smiled, knowing and mischievous; Will mostly succeeded in hiding his shiver.
"Whatever you say, kitten. By the way, did you get your locks changed? It would be a real shame if someone came in unannounced, don't you think?"
Jester's here, hello. Dropping "spit," "stagger," and "staunch(ly)" for Will and Noah. (The alliteration was intentional. I'm easily amused.)
A little Pretty Boy for you 🤲🏻🫀
Admittedly, going to watch them side stage was a bad idea. Under different circumstances, it would have been fine. Every one of his band mates advised against it, none more so than Austin, but Will assured him and the others it was fine. He reasoned it was better than escaping into the crowd, lest a fan see him and potentially bombard him with questions he did not want to answer truthfully.
Austin fixed him with a look and said "Don't do anything fucking stupid," and Will gave him his word. He was a sucker for a good show, and Bad Omens put on a great one.
Half the set went by before Will managed to catch it. He stayed as hidden as he could, tucked away and leaning over a box of unused equipment as he watched Noah in his element. Singing and screaming like he didn't break his heart not that long ago—or maybe he was. Will could feel more emotion than usual in his voice.
For the most part, he went unnoticed. A few people asked if he needed anything, and Nicholas' gaze snagged on him more than once. But towards the end of Dethrone, someone hurried by with a large sword and Noah quickly came to me them. He thanked them with a smile that instantly fell the second he saw Will.
Panicked, Will stood still, watching a plethora of emotions play on his face—shock first, then happiness, confusion; anger then sadness. Finally, nothing, which hurt more than Will wanted to admit.
Noah swiftly departed back to the stage, sucking the breath from Will in the process. He deflated, dropping his head in his hands and shut his eyes to steady himself. Stupid. This was fucking stupid.
He barely watched the last of the performance. He should leave; he wanted to leave, but his legs and feet kept him firmly in place.
"Stalking me?"
Will glanced up, catching sight of Noah as he spit. He looked around, seeing the hustle and bustle of stage hands and crew scurrying to dismantle and set up for the next band. His eyes fell back to Noah, who stood waiting for answer, sword still in hand. He raised a brow. Oh. He asked him something. What—oh, yeah. The question left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Uh, no." Will said. "I just wanted to come see you guys."
"Hm." Noah nodded, a smirk curving his lips. "That's sweet of you, coming to see your ex's band. Do you miss me that much?"
Any guilt he felt about the break up dissolved. Yeah. This was fucking stupid.
Will rolled his eyes, getting a genuine laugh out of Noah. It only served to irritate him more. He pushed off the equipment box and walked around it. A cable snagged his foot and he staggered, nearly falling face first—but Noah was quick to to catch him.
"Careful," Noah all but purred, "Wouldn't want you to fall for me again."
Will scoffed. "Don't worry, I won't."
Dark eyes bore into him, freezing him in place. Sweat and musk invaded his nostrils, mingling easily with memories of past excursions and attempts to drown himself in that scent.
"No? Is that why you're still wearing one of your collars?" His voice was low as he spoke, eyes falling to the silver chain—one of the few discreet day collars Will kept because it was simply just a necklace. It meant nothing in the way of being claimed by Noah now, he staunchly held that thought, but presently, Will felt it waver.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Will deflected.
Noah smiled, knowing and mischievous; Will mostly succeeded in hiding his shiver.
"Whatever you say, kitten. By the way, did you get your locks changed? It would be a real shame if someone came in unannounced, don't you think?"
warnings: mentions of war and fighting, unprotected intercourse
word count: 3.2k
notes: This is set in a highly fictionalised 15th/16th century ish world. There is very little historical accuracy to any of this I just wanted a prince and his knight to kiss. Also pls clap this wip is about 2 years old and I've finally managed to finish it.
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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Nicholas doesn't like secrecy.
More precisely he doesn't like keeping secrets from Noah, his most trusted friend and advisor. What secret can be so dangerous that he cannot entrust it to him, the man who has sworn his life to protect his? Whatever the matter of his council meeting is must be of utmost importance.
He paces along the windows lining the council chamber until doors finally fly open. The five who make up his council file into the room, and the solemn looks that are painted across their faces tell him that whatever they have to say will not please him. He has become quite good at reading their expressions by now. Nicholas had sat with his father whenever he held council for as long as he could remember. Many faces had changed, but a few core members had remained trusted and loyal. Since his father had left for the northern border the throne - and with that the council - had been his duty.
Being the eldest and only son of the King had come with many advantages, but the duties he had never imagined he'd have to shoulder are starting to wear on him. And only the company of his most trusted companion has made the last few years bearable. He can't remember how many years have passed by now. The winters come and go and with every season that passes the war looks more troublesome and his companions bed becomes more inviting. He knows that the council judges him - not for engaging with another man - but for the fact that it is his royal guard out of all men.
He had hoped and prayed that his affections would pass to another, but none of it had helped. And really who is he to stand in the way of fate?
Who is he to argue against what has been the easiest decision he has made in years?
Between the terrible things he had to decide in recent years, this had been a pleasant distraction. Knowing that when the doors to his knights chambers close he is nothing but a man had probably saved his life. Behind those doors he does not have to think about the countless men he sent into certain death, or the widows and orphans they leave behind. No - here he is just Nicholas, and he is loved not by thousands but only by one. One who waits for him now behind those closed doors.
His attention returns to the present and the council before him when one of the members clears their throat.
"Yes?" he asks, hoping that they haven't noticed his mental absence.
"Are you well, your highness?" the master of coin asks, her eyebrow quirked suspiciously.
"Of course. The last report still weighs heavily on me." he replies vaguely.
She eyes him for a moment longer before she eventually nods, seemingly accepting his excuse.
The council discusses the usual points. The same litanies of fallen knights, officers and soldiers, the same awfully high numbers of civilians that have suffered in the path of the fighting. To his surprise, there have been more casualties on the enemies side than on theirs. Knowing that more people have passed because of this terrible conflict still makes his chest feels so very tight.
It feels terrible to be happy that more men of the enemies side have perished. But for once they have the upper hand, for once this war does not feel like a constant uphill battle.
"This victory has given us an opening. Our best strategists have devised a plan that could turn the tide in our favour for good." the master of war explains.
Nicholas feels himself perk up at that.
"A covert operation that will take a small group of our best behind enemy lines. A precise strike into their very heart. If it is even half as successful as we have planned -" the old man's words trail off, but they all know what he's trying to tell them.
Perhaps Nicholas should question this plan more, but if they can end the fighting now so many unnecessary deaths could be prevented. He can barely fathom the total number of dead anymore. The numbers that reach him are mostly the members of either sides military. He does not want to imagine how many civilians have already given their lives.
"What do you need?" he asks.
"Everything has been arranged already. You just have to sign the order." the war master continues, "If you wish to read over the plans I can arrange for them to be brought to your chambers before nightfall."
Nicholas nods, "Make it so. I wish to know which poor souls we are condemning."
A surprisingly positive sounding murmur races through the room.
"Very well. I will send a messenger."
The meeting concludes only a while later.
As soon as Nicholas' presences is not required anymore, he makes his way through the castle towards the chambers of his beloved.
He needs the reprieve his embrace gives him now more than ever.
The stairs feel endless today. He can't climb them fast enough.
His heart pounds in his chest by the time he finally reaches the doors to his chambers. For once, he knocks on the heavy wooden door.
Despite the thickness of it, he can hear shuffling and rustling behind it. Perhaps his beloved knight had rested for some time.
The door opens a few moments later.
Noah's hair is unkempt, strewn all over his head. He's a vision like this with his still sleepy eyes and soft features.
"My prince." he says with a soft smile, "You've returned to me."
Nicholas feels his chest warm pleasantly, "Of course. I said I would come as soon as the council is done."
Noah's lips curl into a smile, "I know. It just feels like I've been waiting for hours."
"I'm sorry." Nicholas says softly, bringing his hand towards the knights cheek, "Let me make it up to you?"
Noah leans into his touch, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He draws in a deep breath before he sighs. Nicholas feels the warmth of his breath spread across his skin. If they linger here too long everyone will be witness to their union.
He steps forward, quietly urging Noah into the privacy of the room behind him.
As soon as they're somewhat out of sight, Noah's hand comes to rest at the small of his back. The door falls shut behind them and as soon as it does, Nicholas allows himself to relax.
His title does not matter here.
When he's with Noah he is just Nicholas.
He feels awfully overdressed with Noah standing in front of him in nothing but his linen shirt and breeches. The ties that keep the neckline in place had been undone a while ago. If anyone else were present he'd be thoroughly indecent.
Nicholas feels his hand dancing along his side, a careful attempt to keep him here in the present moment.
"Was the council meeting so terrible, dear?" Noah asks softly.
He shakes his head, "There have been some big decisions. If they work out - the war may be over before the end of the year."
Noah's face lights up, "Really?"
"We may have peace by spring."
"More importantly." Noah adds quickly, "We may be free to do whatever we want by spring."
He pulls Nicholas closer against him, effortlessly bringing his lips to the edge of his jaw.
"When your father returns, and you don't have to deal with all of these politics anymore we can finally make our escape into the country."
They've both dreamt of this day for so long. Nicholas almost doesn't want to believe that it's finally within his reach. This dream of a quiet life far away from the court and its politics had kept him upright at times. To think that he may soon be able to leave all of this behind feels too much like fantasy.
"I have dug through the properties the crown has access to. There's a little estate near the mountains. Nothing but fields around it. The village is within walking distance." Noah continues, "Perhaps you should stage a visit soon to inspect it."
"Of course I will need my royal guard to accompany me." Nicholas adds softly, brining his own hand towards Noah's waist, "I trust your judgement, love."
"And my judgement says we should take our time to inspect the property. Make sure that it really is fit to be the home of a prince."
Nicholas lets out a breathy sort of laugh, "Whatever would I do without you. I think you may be the most devoted knight out of all of them."
"I would hope that I am the one who is most devoted to you." Noah replies so softly, "Will you let me prove my dedication to you?"
His voice is barely above a whisper now. The volume weighed down by the clearly evident desire on his face. It always burns so brightly in his chest. Noah has never been afraid to show his affections and desires - unlike Nicholas who had needed time and patient dedication to understand that the things he felt were good and wanted.
"Let me show you that not just my oath binds me to you." Noah whispers then, and Nicholas swears that he can feel the insides of his chest melt.
He lets Noah lead him towards the plush bed.
The highest knight at the court of course has to be accommodated accordingly. The chambers his beloved had been given upon his promotion were adjacent to his own to assure that Noah could come to his aid even in the depths of night. The proximity also meant that Noah had been awarded luxuries that were perhaps a little above his station.
The chambers had been furnished with comfortable furniture, beautiful tapestries and plenty of space for the collection of tomes Noah had amassed already. All at Nicholas' order.
Nicholas sinks down on the comfortable duvet.
Noah's warm hands come to rest upon his still tense shoulders.
"They'll keep talking about how you were the one who brought us this peace. They'll sing your praise for years and years." Noah says, as he begins to work his hands across the tensed muscle, "Your name will be made eternal."
Nicholas lets his eyes fall shut in anticipation and moment later he feels Noah's lips pressing against the edge of his jaw. The faint graze of teeth against his skin makes his head swim with need for him. He feels Noah shift and when he opens his eyes, the other man kneels in front of him. The warm hands of his knight come to rest upon his thighs.
He watches silently as Noah begins to undo the laces of his boots. Noah takes his time with it, carefully loosening the laces and buckles until he can slip each boot off his feet. He places them at the foot of the bed, before his hands reach for the fastenings of Nicholas' breeches. Nicholas leans back, making his work a little easier.
Noah always takes his times with this.
His movements are slow and methodical as he undresses Nicholas. Every inch of bared skin is welcomed with a barely there kisses. The whispered praise that falls from his lips wraps around the remnants of his conscious thoughts until Nicholas finds himself lulled into a warm and comfortable haze. If he would not know better he would call it witchery.
In his haze, he barely notices that Noah has undressed himself too. He only finds himself back in the present when he is manoeuvred towards the head of the bed. He allows Noah to manipulate his body until he can fit comfortably between his thighs. He has long stopped feelings ashamed of how exposed he is to the other mans eyes when they meet like this. At first, he had shied away from him, trying to hide himself and failing miserably. Now he longs for the feeling of his lovers eyes skating across his frame. Nicholas sighs as the calloused hands drift up the sides of his body, they linger here and there where his body is marred by scars of his few combat exposures. They're nothing compared to ones that decorate his companions frame of course, but he knows that Noah sees every single one as a personal failure on his side. Reminders of the times he could not protect him well enough.
"You mustn't worry so much." he says quietly, "I only carry the scars because you came to save me before our enemies could do more harm."
"Still." Noah replies just as quietly, "They shouldn't have come this close to you in the first place."
"I know they will never get another chance. I know that you will never let it happen again. And once were away from the capital and a year or two have passed no one will think of us as different. We'll just be the odd ones who live on the outskirts of the village." Nicholas soothes, once again bringing his hand towards the side of his lovers face, "The only thing you'll have to protect us from will be rats and mice."
Noah smiles then and Nicholas feels his insides melt for good.
Every line and crease in his face reminds him of the years they have already spent together and the ones that yet to come. There is not another person in this world or another that could fill him with this much love and comfort.
He guides Noah down towards his lips.
The sweet and gentle kiss is quickly replaced by something more base - more carnal. Nicholas' hands twist into his hair, desperate to keep him as close as he can. He feels Noah grind down against him. He's already hard and leaking and Nicholas knows that it won't be long before he'll breathe desperate words against his skin.
Nicholas shifts his free hand down to the small of Noah's back.
"Let me feel you, love." Nicholas sighs, "I've been waiting all day."
Noah's teeth graze against his collarbone.
"Then I won't make you for much longer." he whispers in return.
Noah marks his way down his chest with gentle kisses. Nicholas gasps when he reaches the sensitive spots on his belly. For once Noah does not linger here to tease him more. Instead he moves lower still, pressing his lips against either side of his hips.
Nicholas lets his eyes fall shut when he feels the others hand wrap around his length. The callouses always feel divine against the soft skin of his cock.
"How do you want me?" Noah asks, lips barely lifting from his skin.
"Inside. Please."
"Inside, hm? How could I ever say no to you my darling."
The hand had previously rested against his waist now wanders lower between his parted thighs. He waits for the brush of his fingers against his entrance. And when it finally comes, Nicholas feels his breath catch in his throat. The tips of his fingers slide across his skin so effortlessly. Noah's fingers leave him a few times to gather more of the liquid that has gathered at the head of his cock. Nicholas' head sinks deeper into the soft pillow as Noah's fingers sink into him. It won't take Noah long to prepare him, it never does.
Before long Noah sits up, allowing Nicholas to see all of him again. He can't help but marvel at his beloveds figure. All of his fighting and practicing has shaped his body into something out of mythology. Broad shoulders, hands that have been calloused by reins and sword hilts, thighs that have marched for days upon days. He could - and has - spend hours admiring him.
Noahs hand drift across his thighs for a moment, before they find a comfortable position. Before he even gets to say something, Noah carefully moves his legs so that they rest around his waist. And just a heartbeat later he feels the blunt head of Noah's cock pressing against his entrance. He gasps when Noah pushes deeper into him. His hands scramble up towards his sides for some kind of purchase and security. As he sinks into him, Noah rests his body over his. The world behind him blurs out of view and for the moment, they're the only thing that exists.
The slow rhythm Noah sets only makes his thoughts dissolve faster. Noah buries his face against the side of his neck, his breath hot against this skin. The coil in his tummy is already wound so tightly.
"My love." Noah sighs against his skin, "You feel divine my love."
Nicholas trails one of his hands down the length of Noah's arm until he can lace their fingers together. He pulls their joined hands towards his lips, allowing him to press a kiss to the back of Noahs.
"I can't wait to have you all to myself." He continues, "We'll have all the time in the world."
He presses another kiss to his hand, "You won't have to sneak back into your room anymore."
Noah lets out a breathy laugh, "No I won't. If anyone ever wants me to leave your bed again they'll have to drag me away."
Noah leans down to kiss him once again. He stays close when he picks up his rhythm again. This time, he moves with more ambition. His goal clearly being to push Nicholas towards his climax. He shifts again, setting himself upright once more. Noah wraps his hand around Nicholas' cock working him in time with his thrusts. His gasps and moans become breathier with every stroke of his length.
Nicholas gives himself over to the pleasure.
The blissful warmth that washes over him drags him along with it like the ocean tide. Noahs ministrations don't cease, no matter how breathless the sounds that fall from him become. He knows that Noah will continue until his own climax has washed over him. A few moments later Noah stills and he feels his release spill inside of him. The gasp that falls from him is silenced by another kiss from Noah.
They lie in comfortable silence for a long while, still joined by their hands. The fire that crackles at the other end of the room being the only sound besides their quiet breathing and occasional whispered exchanges.
He knows that miles and miles away the soldiers are still fighting this devastating war, but in this moment he cannot bring himself to worry. The plan they have will work out, he knows it deep in his heart - if only because he has now latched onto this vision of a future with his beloved.
"You know -" Noah says, sounding almost a little hesitant, "Nothing will keep us in the estate your family owns. We could simply disappear and no one would be the wiser."
"Disappear even more?"
"As far away from any of this as we can. No thrones, no orders, no oaths but the one I hold to you."
"The one we hold to each other." Nicholas corrects.
Noah hums in agreement.
It is just between them for the moment. No one else needs to know that the oath his knight has sworn to him encompasses so much more than that over every other knight. And no one needs to know that his prince has sworn his own oath in return.
To protect, to love and to cherish in this life or the next.
Jester's here, hello. Dropping "spit," "stagger," and "staunch(ly)" for Will and Noah. (The alliteration was intentional. I'm easily amused.)
A little Pretty Boy for you 🤲🏻🫀
Admittedly, going to watch them side stage was a bad idea. Under different circumstances, it would have been fine. Every one of his band mates advised against it, none more so than Austin, but Will assured him and the others it was fine. He reasoned it was better than escaping into the crowd, lest a fan see him and potentially bombard him with questions he did not want to answer truthfully.
Austin fixed him with a look and said "Don't do anything fucking stupid," and Will gave him his word. He was a sucker for a good show, and Bad Omens put on a great one.
Half the set went by before Will managed to catch it. He stayed as hidden as he could, tucked away and leaning over a box of unused equipment as he watched Noah in his element. Singing and screaming like he didn't break his heart not that long ago—or maybe he was. Will could feel more emotion than usual in his voice.
For the most part, he went unnoticed. A few people asked if he needed anything, and Nicholas' gaze snagged on him more than once. But towards the end of Dethrone, someone hurried by with a large sword and Noah quickly came to me them. He thanked them with a smile that instantly fell the second he saw Will.
Panicked, Will stood still, watching a plethora of emotions play on his face—shock first, then happiness, confusion; anger then sadness. Finally, nothing, which hurt more than Will wanted to admit.
Noah swiftly departed back to the stage, sucking the breath from Will in the process. He deflated, dropping his head in his hands and shut his eyes to steady himself. Stupid. This was fucking stupid.
He barely watched the last of the performance. He should leave; he wanted to leave, but his legs and feet kept him firmly in place.
"Stalking me?"
Will glanced up, catching sight of Noah as he spit. He looked around, seeing the hustle and bustle of stage hands and crew scurrying to dismantle and set up for the next band. His eyes fell back to Noah, who stood waiting for answer, sword still in hand. He raised a brow. Oh. He asked him something. What—oh, yeah. The question left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Uh, no." Will said. "I just wanted to come see you guys."
"Hm." Noah nodded, a smirk curving his lips. "That's sweet of you, coming to see your ex's band. Do you miss me that much?"
Any guilt he felt about the break up dissolved. Yeah. This was fucking stupid.
Will rolled his eyes, getting a genuine laugh out of Noah. It only served to irritate him more. He pushed off the equipment box and walked around it. A cable snagged his foot and he staggered, nearly falling face first—but Noah was quick to to catch him.
"Careful," Noah all but purred, "Wouldn't want you to fall for me again."
Will scoffed. "Don't worry, I won't."
Dark eyes bore into him, freezing him in place. Sweat and musk invaded his nostrils, mingling easily with memories of past excursions and attempts to drown himself in that scent.
"No? Is that why you're still wearing one of your collars?" His voice was low as he spoke, eyes falling to the silver chain—one of the few discreet day collars Will kept because it was simply just a necklace. It meant nothing in the way of being claimed by Noah now, he staunchly held that thought, but presently, Will felt it waver.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Will deflected.
Noah smiled, knowing and mischievous; Will mostly succeeded in hiding his shiver.
"Whatever you say, kitten. By the way, did you get your locks changed? It would be a real shame if someone came in unannounced, don't you think?"
Content Warnings: 18+, monsterfucking (will is a siren), tentacles, knotting (? yeah I guess), implied/mentions of edging, overstimulation,
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: @jestersnotebook request from this prompt list (overstimulating until they’re begging). I know I said I may not be able to do the weird siren sex, but I managed to cook up something. Sorry it took me 3 months. I hope it’s decent. Also, please don’t ask me how siren!Will’s anatomy works, I don’t know. I couldn’t make up my mind so I gave him that weird penis and some tentacle tendril things.
divider by @saradika-graphics
Jolly woke with a painful gasp. His chest ached fiercely, body heavy like lead with a chill that penetrated his bones down to the marrow. The ground beneath him was just as cold, and horribly hard. Slowly, his surroundings came into focus. Smooth, dark gray stone disappeared up into the ceiling where stalactites hung precariously, as well as protruded from the floor. Jolly couldn’t tell if there was still daylight or if the cave was just dark.
This definitely was not his boat.
Splashing caught his ear and he sat up quickly, instantly regretting it. The room spun round and round, pulsed, pulled at his brain until it throbbed. Jolly clutched his head and gasped, body shaking as he fought the urge to vomit.
"Oh, so you're not dead. How delightful!" A voice spoke.
Slowly, Jolly turned his head toward the sound and visibly recoiled.
Eyes blacker than night watched him, and a mouth full of too many teeth grinned. Human arms lined with iridescent fins crossed on the stone ground a few feet away as a head full of dripping wet ringlet curls rested on them. Peeking through the surface of the water was a large, bubble gum pink and seafoam green fish tail.
"Siren." He spat, disgusted.
The creature frowned. "That's some thanks for saving your life."
"Thanks for saving my life?" Jolly repeated. "Your kind beckons sailor's deaths so forgive me if I lack enthusiastic appreciation."
It looked at Jolly, pout plastered on its face, though it didn't appear as if it were attempting to garner sympathy, more so like a mockery.
"And your kind seeks mine for trophies and bragging rights." It smiled. "An eye for an eye, yes?"
Jolly wanted wanted to argue, but another wave of nausea inducing dizziness washed over him. He pressed his forehead to the cold stone beneath to ground himself.
“It’s so rare I get such a delicious looking treat all the way out here,” the creature grinned with all their teeth; they were sharp and jagged, like they’re meant for ripping flesh. “I do hope you’ll be staying a while—if you don't succumb first.”
After the first fourteen days and nights, Jolly lost count of how long he'd been resigned to the siren's home. He grew tired of fish. On occasion, the siren—who went by Will, but Jolly had been reluctant to call him by his name, up until he stopped responding to Siren—would bring him meats or sometimes a sweet confection. He didn't question how he obtained the foods, lest he discover Will lured other sailors to their demise.
By the time thirty days passed, he gave up any hope of ever seeing land again.
Some time around the first month, Will revealed he could walk on land. Jolly tucked away to desperately, loudly, pleasure himself—deep, rumbling moans, quick and spit slicked strokes all bounced off stone walls. Jolly hadn't heard his name being called or the damp footsteps approaching. His peak was rapidly approaching, but before it could crest, Will appeared. Jolly scrambled to cover himself, beat red embarrassed, and Will? Completely unbothered.
Despite his embarrassment, Jolly couldn't help his wandering gaze, noting each trail of water that followed every toned muscle of lightly sun kissed skin. Nothing about him screamed inhuman. His once black eyes were now normal, brown like his soaking wet hair, and the teeth peeking through his amused smirk were human. No fins, gills, no tail. Just… a very attractive, very naked, fit man.
At sixty days, pent up restlessness consumed him, his hand no longer sufficient enough to take off the edge, and exacerbated by naked images of Will plaguing his mind. Will had cheekily offered assistance when he first caught Jolly, which he declined, but now desperation sunk in, clinging to him like invasive urchins.
Jolly didn't bother hiding this time. He pleasured himself out in the open, leisurely dragging it out and tormenting his self to keep hard until Will returned. He had no way of knowing how long he would be gone or how much time had passed, but Jolly quickly began to tire of edging and his wrists grew sore. Frustration brewed until his bones itched and he could feel every blood cell flowing through his body. By a miracle,Jolly heard the familiar splashing of water letting him know Will had returned.
His name came in shallow, quiet breaths, heating his cheeks in shame. Approaching wet footsteps caused Jolly to speed up to once again bring himself to the edge, just to stop at Will's knowing and borderline condescending chuckle.
"You beg for me yet won't allow me to help?" Will cocked his head to the side.
Jolly swallowed the last of his pride. "I would like to ask now."
"Oh?" Will flashed his teeth. "And how would you have me?"
The question confused Jolly. He was well familiar and far from a stranger to sex with men; one does what one needs during long, grueling journey's at sea—and truthfully, he much preferred the male couplings to women. Unless Will was asking who was penetrating, in which Jolly usually was, but he didn't possess the strength or patience.
"I don't care," Jolly whispered, tears prickling his eyes. "I just need relief. Please, Will."
Will stood above him, unmoving, dark brown eyes boring into him, like he was studying Jolly, looking at him like prey. Jolly felt wholly vulnerable and exposed.
He began to hum, the solemn tune sinking deep in his ears and making them vibrate. Static slowly filled his head that spread through the rest of his body, heating him with warmth that was almost fuzzy. Almost comforting. Will held out a hand. Jolly grasped it without hesitation.
Hand in hand, gazes locked, Will led Jolly towards the water's edge. The smile he gave was unnerving, but it failed to phase through the fog swirling inJolly's brain. He was far too clouded by lust and…
"It's been a pleasure having you, Jolly."
Jolly was yanked into dark, bone chillingly cold water. The gasp caught in his throat was swiftly forced out as Will slammed him against cold stone. Gone was the attractive human man he plead for, replaced by the horrifying creature with the sharp grin and abysses for eyes he met first—yet, Jolly found himself not caring.
Something large and bulbous circled his hole, prodding and teasing with a mind of its own. Jolly tried to wiggle and get more stimulation, but Will clasped a strong hand on his throat. Small tendrils, around a dozen, maybe more, trailed along the thick vein on the underside of his erection. The appendage between his cheeks pressed, pressed, pressed against him until it finally popped inside to secrete a viscous liquid to allow a second, much larger bulb to notch. It pulsed as it thrust inside him, the first knot swelling as it went deeper and deeper while the other stayed in place, stretching him and keeping him in place.
At the same time, the tendrils wrapped around Jolly's length and squeezed. Three or four stroked over his tip, smearing and collecting his dribbling seed. Overwhelm washed over him all at once. If not for Will's hand on his throat, Jolly would have gone entirely limp and sank like a rock. His gasping, mindless moans were trapped beneath his grasp and grew dangerously light headed because of it.
"P…lease…" Jolly blinked one eye at a time; he was unsure if his plea was even audible. "Ple-ease…"
"Am I too much for you?" Will grinned, wide and wild, baring all his teeth. "Or are you begging for more?"
Jolly wasn't sure how much more he could take. Between his earlier efforts and Will's current, he was surprised he didn't immediately erupt. Jolly begged again. And again, until it all truly became too much and he cried, pitifully spilling his seed. A tendril slid and flicked at the slit, acting as lapping tongue. Inside him, the first bulb grew warm. Jolly felt it getting bigger and bigger, swelling to the size of the second and he swore even bigger. The pressure was intense, stretching him far beyond what should be possible, then in the blink of an eye, it was gone.
A thick, thick substance flooded Jolly. At some point, Will let up on his chokehold because Jolly heard the absolutely depraved and whorish moan that burst from his lungs. He was impossibly full, stuffed and plugged with foreign and fantastical sperm.
"What a shame I won't take," Will sighed, disappointed, "A waste of my seed."
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