hi! my name’s jen and i’m a 22 yr old US-based queer black writer/editor.
spotify - twitter - pinterest - ao3
i write for nearly all of jack o’connell’s characters so feel free to request any
i do dabble in real people fiction (rpf), you can always dm or request to see if i write for that person
fandoms i write for currently;
sinners (2025), game of thrones (hbo), hotd (hbo), succession (hbo), the north water (book & show), skins uk gen 2 (show), star wars (films & tv)
tw // cw // !! disclaimers !!
this blog will unabashedly feature works containing of smut, various types of abuse, dubcon, noncon, and other difficult subjects. If you are sensitive to such content or a minor—do not interact.
headers, dividers credits to: @pixopix @strangergraphics @saradika-graphics @drinkthesky
screencaps credits: @scrprints kissthemgoodbye
character masterlists
❀ james cook
❀ kendall roy
❀ paddy mayne
❀ patrick sumner
❀ remmick
❀ roman roy
other
cassian andor - “so come on, mess me up” ⟡
jack o’connell (actor) - “can’t wait (to get next to you)” ⟡
Welcome to The Bag Is Open, a Jack O'Connell character-focused dead dove fic fest & digital zine celebrating darkfic in all its forms. Whether your story is unsettling, obsessive, horrific, toxic, tragic, or somewhere in between, this event is for you.
Posting Window
🗓️ August 10th – August 15th, 2026
You do not need to post at a specific time or alongside everyone else. Simply publish your contribution any time during the posting window.
How to Participate
🕊️ Fill out the sign-up form
Need inspiration? An optional prompt list is available here
Guidelines
• Open to all Jack O'Connell characters.
• Reader-insert focused (reader does not have to be female, but reader must be part of the main pairing/dynamic).
• Fic, artwork, graphics, moodboards, and other fanworks are welcome.
• No minimum or maximum word count.
• All participants must be 18+.
• All sexual content must involve characters who are 18+.
• Proper content warnings/tags are required.
• No AI-generated writing or artwork.
Organization
To help organize both the masterlist and the digital zine, submissions will be sorted into three categories:
🏷️ Toe Tag: lighter darkfic and dead dove themes.
🩸 Evidence Bag: darker, heavier themes.
⚰️ Body Bag: the darkest submissions.
You do not need to choose a category or organize your fic yourself. Domo @the-lilted-tune and I will sort submissions during the editing process so the table of contents flows naturally.
Banners
To give the digital zine a more polished look, we're asking all fic writers to include a banner with their submission. If you've never made one before, don't worry! Feel free to reach out. I have Canva and would be more than happy to make one for you, and I know several other participants have already volunteered to help as well.
When Posting
Please use the tag #joc dead dove fest and tag @joclibrary so everyone's submissions are easy to find and archive throughout the week.
Remember:
Dead Dove: Do Not Eat means exactly what it says. Read the warnings. Curate your own experience. Don't open the bag if you don't want to see what's inside.
Because no matter how much you stash or how much you steal, you never have enough. No matter how often you go out and rob and fuck people over you always need to get up and do it all again.
Do better. There’s victims of the acts that you’re romanticising. If you’re a victim yourself, that’s still not an excuse.
Stop writing rape.
okay… no one owes you a confession to justify writing anything.
no one is required to disclose their trauma, victimhood, personal history, or life story in order to write dark fiction. no one has to ‘prove’ they’re allowed to explore certain subjects in fiction, and spreading the idea that people need to publicly identify themselves as victims before they’re ‘allowed’ to write about certain topics is invasive, harmful, and extremely weird and entitled.
my work is tagged and my warnings are there. AGAIN, you’re responsible for curating your own space. block me, mute me, unfollow me, filter the tags, or stop reading. those are literally your options. i’m not going to argue about that with ppl who purposely ignore warnings and then act shocked by the content they chose to read.
the virtue signaling is crazy. yes, this rando harassing fanfic writers (some of whom i consider online friends/mutuals) on tumblr in the big ‘26 will manage to undo centuries of literature featuring the same dark elements and content & eliminate those same topics from being explored in future works of fiction. yup! you’re doing the thing! congrats, rando!
Georgia O’Keeffe, from a letter to Alfred Stieglitz featured in My Faraway One: Selected Letters of Georgia O'Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz: Volume One, 1915-1933
succession is as much about sexual abuse and incestuous abuse as it is business. logan lords over the children in all aspects of their lives, including the sexual, he is invasive because he is surveillance, he is news, he is the world. he goes missing from their childhoods to spend his time aiding and abetting and wining and dining sexual abusers and rapists, who he then brings home to them, because work and family are one, and the home and the office are one. he spends their adulthood covering it up and pawning them off to aid in managing the fallout. roman is sexually perverse and anorexic, shiv is hypersexual and transactional, kendall is infertile and oedipal. there was a dog cage and roman kept wetting the bed because kendall locked him inside and fed him dog food and they both 'enjoyed it' and logan used this or orchestrated this to find the runt and send him away, "you got two fighting dog's you send the weak one away, you punish the weak one". shiv is a daddy's girl and the favourite, in his varying states of delirium she becomes his wives and he drags her hand down to grope him under his clothes. kendall is groomed his entire life and toyed with and discarded over and over in a perverse push and pull of intimacy and violence that logan enacts as business and as sex, because in succession sex and business are interchangable. "sometimes it is a big dick competition."
The handsome prince of your dreams comes for you, but you didn't expect for him to have glowing, red eyes.
before you read: fem!reader; reader has afab anatomy; reader is referred to with she/her/hers pronouns; darkish!remmick; possessive!remmick; some innocence/corruption kink; innocent!reader; virgin!reader; reader is into "childish" stuff like fairytales and princes and princesses; stalker!remmick; remmick goons to watching you sleep and leaves a cum smudge on your window to mark you as his; remmick is kinda sorta taking advantage of your naivety but it's so he can keep you forever!!; reader's first kiss; loss of virginity; fluff; praise; suggestive content; explicit content; unholy things happen in a chapel; reader has pubic hair; fem-receiving!oral; the line between remmick actually having some kind of feelings for reader and just wanting to possess reader is blurry af; reader experiences penetration for the first time and feels guilty that it hurts but remmick is super good about it; vaginal fingering; vaginal sex; drooling; creampie; unprotected sex; blood drinking; biting
wc: 9k
a/n: annnnd another one down (~ ̄▽ ̄)~ now we'll see if i'll write for someone else or if i'll keep writing for remmick because i'm horrendously down bad for jack o'connell
dividers: omni-resources, saradika-graphics
He had been watching you for a while.
The longer he watched you from the shadows, the harder it got for him to keep his distance.
You were so enchanting. He loved the way you smiled; it was like seeing the sun again after centuries of darkness and moonlight. Your sweet laughter was a balm to his weary heart. You were kind to everyone, even towards the people in town who leeched off such kindness.
Remmick was always quick to deal with such people. How dare they take advantage of someone so sweet? No matter, though, as they made for easy meals.
He found where you lived and would stop by every night to watch you sleep. Even in slumber, he found you utterly enchanting. You looked like an angel—your hair strewn across your pillow like a halo, your expression serene. You were surely dreaming the sweetest dreams to be sleeping with such peace on your face.
And then there was your body. Your blanket draped over your body just so, allowing for him to see its curves and contours from the window he spied from.
You must be so soft and warm under there. Remmick groaned softly at the thought and slipped one hand into his pants. He wanted to feel your warmth beneath his fingertips so badly.
But feeling the warmth and softness of your body as you squirmed and writhed under him in pleasure? Even better.
Remmick placed his forehead against your window as the movements of his hand became more frantic, chasing a release he wasn't even fully aware he was chasing; he was so caught up in this thoughts and fantasies. His eyes started to flutter, and he bit on his bottom lip to stifle his whimpers as he felt himself get closer and closer to the edge.
You were a virgin. He knew you were; he could smell it. He wanted to be the one to defile you. He wanted to be the one to introduce you to the carnal pleasures of the flesh.
He wanted to be the one to take away your innocence and replace it with filthy pleasure you would crave from him and him only.
Remmick pulled his hand out of his pants, breaths soft and heavy, looking down at the sticky mess he made all over his hand. His mouth couldn't help quirking into an amused smile at the sight. It was amazing how such an innocent, little thing like you could have him feeling like a desperate animal in a rut.
You had no idea of the effect you had on him as you continued to peacefully sleep in your bedroom.
Quietly, Remmick left a small smudge of himself on your window, a silent claim on you, and a promise he would come back to collect you.
You were his to collect and claim, after all.
And he would, once he had everything ready for you.
It was time.
Remmick was once again standing outside your window as you slept, all soft and warm in your bed. His eyes trailed down to the smudge he left on your window, as they had done every time he came to watch you. You must not have noticed it since it was still staining your window, but he wondered if you would even know what it was if you had spotted it. Probably not, he concluded; such a thing was surely outside your area of expertise as something so precious and innocent.
He gently tapped on your window, just enough to rouse you from your slumber. His red, glowing eyes reflected his delight as he watched you stir. His vampiric hearing allowed him to hear the little noise you made as you stretched your limbs and slowly sat yourself up in your bed.
"Huh…?" you mumbled into the darkness of your bedroom. You rubbed both of your eyes with your hands, wiping away the sleep clinging to your eyelids. "What was that noise?" You stretched one more time once you had rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and then focused your attention onto your bedroom window.
You shrieked at the sight of a strange man with glowing, red eyes standing right out your window.
As he watched you pull your blanket over yourself to hide, it occurred to Remmick that his supernatural appearance would have been especially startling to an innocent, little thing like you, and he couldn't having you fearing him. You wouldn't come to him if you feared him. He needed to rectify this.
"No, no, no. Don't be scared, sweetness." Remmick placed both of his hands on your bedroom window as he pressed himself closer to get a better look at you, watching you as you continued to hide underneath your blanket. He spoke gently, each word meant to soothe you. "I'm not here to hurt you."
When you didn't come out of your hiding spot, Remmick knew he had to try harder to coax you out. He recalled the bookshelf in your bedroom and focused his attention on its contents. Among the trinkets and knickknacks was your collection of fairytale books, which held what he knew would be the perfect thing to lure you out from under the blanket.
"I'm not here to hurt you," he said again to reassure you, his eyes trailing back to where you hid under your blanket. "I'm your handsome prince, sweetness."
His words hung in the air for a moment, but Remmick didn't wait with bated breath. He knew you would come out of hiding, and he had to keep himself from grinning wickedly in victory as you slowly emerged from under the safety of your blanket.
Your interest in fairytales fit such a sweet, innocent creature as yourself. Remmick found it as adorable and endearing as he did naive and childish, but he certainly wouldn't tell you that. If anything, this interest of yours was what he just what he needed to meet his own ends, so childish or not, it had its uses.
He would be willing to be your prince. If it kept you where you belonged, if it meant he could possess your entire being and taint you, he would become just like those fairytale princes. He would slip into the skin of a fairytale prince and indulge each childish fantasy of yours.
Just so you would remain his most precious possession.
Remmick offered you a charming smile as you padded softly to your bedroom window. He felt a thrill run down his spine as he watched you open your window, your delicate hands resting next to his on the windowsill once the barrier between the two of you was removed. His eyes trailed up your hands to take in the delicate, white nightgown you wore, appreciating how it looked on your body.
"You're…my handsome prince?" you asked, hopeful disbelief lacing your soft murmur. Your eyes trailed over Remmick, and he knew you were harboring some doubts about him being your "handsome prince." It was a surprise; he had expected you to just go along with him, yet here you were scrutinizing him, attempting to reconcile a handsome prince with eyes that glowed red in the dark like a monster's.
Smart, innocent, little thing.
"I know I must have…frightened you," Remmick said, speaking slowly, carefully watching your expression. "But it's me, sweetness. Your handsome prince, come to whisk you away." He gently placed his large hands over yours. He felt you stiffen under his touch, and your eyes widened ever so slightly, but the moment left with the same quickness it arrived with. You relaxed, and you let your hands be held by a man claiming to be your "handsome prince." It was a tentative acceptance, one Remmick fully intended to use to lure you into his possession.
"My handsome prince," you repeated softly, speaking more to yourself than to the man standing outside of your window and holding your hands in his. You repeated those three words again to yourself, even softer than before, as your eyes trailed over the man again.
He most certainly did not look like the princes from the fairytales on your bookshelf; the ones you had adored ever since you were a little girl. Aside from his glowing, red eyes, he was a little unkempt—his hair slightly mussed and hints of stubble along his jaw. He was dressed plainly in a faded blue shirt and dark pants held by suspenders.
He was very plain as far as handsome princes went, as well as unusual due to his eyes.
But as much as they had startled you earlier, now that you had gotten a better look at them, you were finding the stranger's eyes more pretty than frightening. They were like glowing rubies, and those glowing rubies were looking right at you. They were seeing you.
"What's your name?" you asked in your little voice, much to Remmick's delight. It was a sign of interest in him. You were nibbling at his lure like the good girl he knew you were.
"Remmick," he replied smoothly. He gently lifted one of your hands and placed a kiss atop your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. The sight of you becoming so flustered, eyes widening and cheeks reddening, was delightful. Remmick couldn't help grinning as he continued to charm and woo you like a fairytale prince. "The name of your handsome prince is Remmick." He placed another kiss atop your knuckles, his grin widening as your free hand shot up to cover part of your blushing face.
"Remmick," you echoed, your voice softened by the hand covering part of your face. "Remmick, my handsome prince."
"That's right," Remmick encouraged, his grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat's. He noticed a light forming in your eyes, and he knew you were starting to smile behind your hand. You were starting to accept him.
"I've been waiting so long for you," you breathed, slowly lowering your hand and daintily placing it over Remmick's. "I…I've dreamed of you coming for me."
"And I'm here now, my princess," he assured you. "I've come for you."
Carefully, Remmick helped you out your window. He had to use all of the restraint in his body to keep his hands from exploring you. A true fairytale prince wouldn't be so lascivious so soon, and he wanted to savor defiling you.
He would wait for now.
You were so cute the way you fell into his arms as soon as he placed you on your feet. He felt your arms wrap around his chest and gently squeeze him, as if you were afraid he would disappear, and you rubbed your soft cheek affectionately against his chest.
"Do you have a carriage?" you asked, looking up at him all wide and sweet. "Do you have a castle?"
Remmick couldn't help chuckling. You were really into this fairytale stuff, and the way you went along with his "handsome prince" bit pretty quickly endeared him even more than he already was to you.
It made sense how easy it was for people to take advantage of you.
But Remmick wasn't taking advantage of you.
He was your handsome prince, and he was here to whisk you away.
Just as he said.
"A carriage, I don't have," he replied, wrapping his own arms around you so he could scoop you up, eliciting a sweet, surprised yelp from your pretty, little mouth. One arm supported your back while the other held your legs beneath your knees. "But don't worry. My princess will get to enjoy being carried by her prince."
Your delighted giggling filled the air as Remmick started to walk with you in his arms.
"As for the castle…" Remmick continued, his voice trailing off as he thought about how to answer without spoiling too much for his little princess. "Well, let's just say it's the perfect place for a prince and his princess to become lost in their own little world."
"Just you and me?" you chirped with a smile.
"Mhm," Remmick hummed, giving you a slow nod and a kiss on your forehead, which made you giggle and smile and blush even more. "Just you and me, my darling girl."
Forever.
You were unsure how you felt about having an abandoned chapel as your castle.
Chapels were sacred places, but as your handsome prince carried you inside his "castle", you noticed it was stripped of anything that made it a chapel. There was no cross. There was no pulpit. The two pews that were left were pushed up against one of the walls.
Various pelts and blankets lined the flooring. Some were draped over the two pews along the side, making their hard wood look more comfortable to sit on. Clusters of candles dotted the pelt-less parts of the wooden floor, their dim, flickering light illuminating the small space. The smoke wafting from their flames mixed with the musty smell of the chapel's interior and the faint scent of bunches of dried flowers hanging from the ceiling. Every window was covered by a pelt, effectively blocking out the outside world.
"Welcome home, my princess," Remmick murmured, his breath gently tickling your temple as he placed a kiss on it. You heard him kick the chapel doors closed behind him, his hands still occupied with carrying you like a precious treasure.
"I know it's not something from out of your fairytales," he continued, carrying you towards where you imagined a preacher once stood to address his congregation, "but I made it warm and cozy just for you." He leaned his head down to nuzzle into your hair, taking in a deep breath of your soft, sweet scent. "I wanted my princess's new home to be comfortable for her."
"Thank you," you murmured softly, shyly curling into yourself as you felt your cheeks heat up. This was all strange and surreal, yet you remembered your manners, which Remmick found adorable. You were so polite even as you were stolen away.
But was it stealing if you went with him willingly like a good girl?
"Of course, my princess," Remmick smoothly replied.
He carried you towards a large pile of furs and blankets and placed you atop of them, handling you with a care and reverence you didn't know another person was capable of showing. Your hands gently ran over the pelts and blankets as Remmick arranged them around you, making you comfortable. Each one was soft and felt nice against your skin.
"This is where we'll sleep, my darling girl," Remmick told you, now sitting next to you. He placed an arm behind you, a silent invitation for you to lean against him, and he was delighted when you did. "A prince and princess should sleep together, shouldn't they?"
"Yeah," you shyly replied, still all flustered and feeling like you were dreaming. You hid part of your blushing face into Remmick's shoulder, now looking forward to falling asleep in your handsome prince's arms, certain you would have the best sleep by his side.
Remmick was also looking forward to sleeping together with you.
In a way that had nothing to do with sleeping.
"Oh! I almost forgot." Remmick pulled his arm away from behind you as he stood. He noticed your soft lips form into a frown at the loss of his touch, but he would rectify it quickly. He was pleased to feel your eyes watching him as he walked to the two lone pews pushed against a wall of the abandoned chapel; you were interested in what he was doing, and you were eager for him to return.
Such a good girl.
He knelt and pulled out a small chest hidden under one of the pews. With a click, he opened it and reached inside, carefully taking out something special he made for his special girl. He hid it behind his back as he stood and returned to your side.
"Close your eyes, pretty girl," he told you, the velvet purr of his voice making the command irresistible. You closed your eyes, and Remmick found it endearing as you even covered them with your hands.
Everything you did was so cute.
Precious, precious girl.
And now you were all his.
You felt your prince kneel beside you, feeling glad his presence had returned. You then felt something light being placed upon your head.
"Open your eyes, my princess," you heard Remmick say, his large hands enveloping yours and gently pulling them away from your face. Your eyes then fluttered open to see Remmick pulling a small compact mirror from the pocket of his trousers (unbeknownst to you, it was something he had swiped from one of his victims).
"I made this just for you before I came to get you," he told you, his voice a deep breath, just loud enough for the two of you. "It's something every princess needs." He opened the compact mirror, your eyes widening and your cheeks flushing at the sight of your reflection.
Sitting atop your head was a crown made of flowers woven together. It was made of all sorts of wildflowers you had seen growing in the area, a colorful combination of whites and yellows and purples. It wasn't a crown made of jewels, like the ones the princesses in the fairytales had, but the gesture made your heart squeeze and warm in your chest in a way it never had before.
"Remmick…" you murmured with a breath, placing one of your hands over your heart, feeling it flutter and squeeze inside you. "Remmick, it's…it's so pretty. I love it!"
Remmick smiled. He knew you would love his gift. Innocent souls were easy to please, but their happiness was real and genuine. You looked so darling and innocent as you sat in his bed of pelts and blankets, a crown of flowers sitting on your head and a white nightgown covering your body.
You hugged Remmick, throwing your arms around him as a thank-you for your pretty flower crown. He wrapped one arm around you, the other arm setting aside the compact mirror before embracing you as well.
"Such an affectionate princess," he murmured as you rubbed your cheek against his chest. He tightened his arms around you, hugging you closer, eliminating any remaining space between the two of you.
The mask of the charming prince was rapidly slipping. He needed to feel you quivering beneath his fingertips as he introduced your innocent body and mind to the pleasures of the flesh.
Remmick loosened his grip around you, only so he could look into your eyes as he tilted your chin up with the tip of his index finger. He took a moment to admire the curious innocence in your wide eyes, which he would soon replace with knowing desire.
"You're so pretty, my princess," he purred, each word wrapping around you and making your head feel fuzzy. His thumb gently traced over your plush bottom lip. "Tell me, my lovely girl, have you ever been kissed?"
Your eyes widened and a blush quickly formed on your cheeks, which had Remmick's crimson eyes lighting up in delight. You were too flustered by such a bold question to respond with words, but your reaction was all the answer Remmick needed.
"No, huh?" he mused, his other hand now slowly trailing up your arm, his lips pulling into a grin. "That's okay. It's only right that I, your handsome prince, be the one to give you your first kiss."
"That's true," you mumbled softly with a slow nod, finally finding your voice. You knew Remmick was right. The princess always shared her first kiss with her handsome prince in all of the fairytale stories you read as a little girl. It was a quintessential moment in the blossoming romance between the princess and her prince.
Remmick acknowledged your response with a hum, the sound low and pleased. Both of his hands now cupped your face. His crimson eyes bored straight into yours, suddenly making you feel exposed and seen. Only a breath of space was between your face and his.
"Close your eyes, my princess," he murmured softly, each word tickling your lips. As soon as your eyes obediently fluttered shut, you felt the press of Remmick's lips against yours.
Your first kiss.
It was everything you had ever dreamed of. It was soft and warm, and it made you feel soft and warm, too. Your heart fluttered rapidly within your chest. Your hands remained clinging to Remmick, holding onto him as you relished the experience of your very first kiss.
Remmick could feel your excitement radiating off you in waves with the way your body trembled against him. He even felt your lips form into a smile against his. You were so delighted by your first kiss.
He had made you so delighted by giving you your first kiss.
By some miracle, he was able to restrain himself long enough to give you a first kiss experience from the fairytales. He kept the press of his lips soft against yours. His hands gently cupped your face as he kissed you.
His restraint crumbled quickly as soon as he heard a soft, little noise coming from your throat, though.
More little noises spilled out of you as Remmick slowly slid his hands down your body and moved to your lower back, pressing you closer against him as pulled you into his lap. He parted his lips and experimentally traced his tongue along the seam of your lips. You were such an innocent girl; he wanted to see how you would react to him deepening the kiss.
To his surprise and delight, you opened your mouth and let in his tongue. Remmick groaned, pleased that you picked up on his intentions, even in spite of your innocence. He knew for sure what he was about to do was not in any of your fairytales.
"You're so soft, princess," he murmured against your mouth. He then broke the kiss to look at you, grinning as he took in your heavily flushed face and the way your pupils had blown wide. With your flower crown, you were the perfect image of an innocent maiden experiencing lust and desire for the first time.
"You look like you really liked that, huh?" Remmick teased. He chuckled as you shyly turned your head away from him. He gently grasped your chin so he could make you look at him again. "It's not a bad thing, sweet girl. I like knowing you're feeling good, princess. As your handsome prince, I'm supposed to make you feel good, isn't that right?"
"Y-yeah," you shyly stammered in agreement. Your heart felt like it was about to either fly right out of your chest or suddenly deflate like a balloon from how much it was beating. Your head was swimming from your first kiss and the thing Remmick did with his tongue. You didn't know kissing could include tongues, but you liked it.
"Um…what you did with your tongue…" Your hands started to fidget with one another as you tried, and failed, to ask Remmick about what he did during your first kiss and tell him how much you liked it. Remmick found the way you fumbled with your words cute and amusing. Unable to keep from chuckling his mouth opened in a grin, showing off his elongated canines.
"You liked that, huh?" he finished for you, to which you shyly nodded. "I know, princess, I can tell." He then placed his hands on your waist and tugged you closer against him again. With the way your brows furrowed and your soft lips formed into a slight frown, he knew you were feeling exactly what he wanted you to be feeling.
"Do you have something in your pockets?" you asked with a sweet, innocent tilt of your head.
"In a way," Remmick replied, casually shrugging one of his shoulders. He then leaned in closer, close enough that you could breathe in his words, his large hands staying on your waist to keep you in place. "It's what happens to princes when they really like their princesses."
"Something similar happens to princesses when they really like their princes," he continued. "Can I show you, princess?"
As soon as he saw you shyly nod, Remmick moved one of his hands from your waist and slipped it under your nightgown. Your breath hitched and your body tensed, unaccustomed to being touched in the way Remmick was touching you, but he felt you relax, and gave you a charming grin.
"It's alright, princess," he murmured to encourage you to relax. His crimson gaze held yours as he traced his hand higher and higher up your leg and to your thigh. "I won't hurt you. A prince would never hurt his princess."
Unless she wanted him to, but that would be something he could explain to and show you another day.
He took your slow nod as a sign to continue, and trailed his hand all the way to the waistband of your panties. He used his other hand to gather the skirt of your nightgown and bunch it around your waist, fully revealing your little, pink panties.
Of course you were wearing pink panties.
"I-I think the thing in your pocket moved," you stammered after feeling something twitch beneath you.
"That can happen," Remmick casually replied, his attention more fixated on your panties. They were adorable on you. He tugged and teased the waistband before pulling them down, and was pleased when you helped him take them off by wriggling your hips and moving your legs as needed.
"See this wet spot on your panties, princess?" Remmick said, holding up your panties for you to see, using both hands to show you the wet spot on the crotch part of your panties. "This is what happens to princesses when they really like their princes. Their body starts…preparing for them." He then set your panties aside and bunched the skirt of your nightgown around your waist again. He placed his hands where your thighs met your hips and looked up at you through his eyelids. It was a silent question of permission, which you gave him with a nod.
"The wet spot from your panties came from here," Remmick explained, pushing his index and middle finger through your bushel of hair and running them along your slit. You gasped and tensed, and both corners of his mouth quirked up in a smirk. He knew that was the first time another's hands had touched you in your most sensitive area even without your reaction. Once he was sure he had gathered enough of your slick, he held his fingers up for you to see.
"Wh-what's that?" you stammered out, already sounding out of breath as you settled down from the sudden jolt of pleasure than ran through you when Remmick touched your most intimate area. Your eyes looked over the fingers he was holding up for you to see, but you weren't sure what you were supposed to be looking at. All you saw was what looked like a near-translucent liquid.
"Proof you're preparing for your prince," Remmick smoothly replied. He then licked his fingers clean, groaning and closing his eyes, relishing the small sampling of you. As he opened his eyes once he was finished, he placed his hands on your hips and lifted you off his lap. He set you on top of your shared bed of furs and blankets and laid you back with the same care and gentleness shown to a porcelain doll.
"Wait!" You reached for your flower crown and carefully took it off to set it to the side, all nice and safe. "I don't want my flower crown to get messed up."
Remmick smiled, genuinely feeling a sense of warmth he hadn't felt in centuries as you showed concern for his gift to you. You were such a breath of fresh air for his weary, ancient being. Your innocent concern and all the carnal things he was about to show you made for a delicious juxtaposition.
His pants suddenly felt tighter.
"Now then princess," Remmick said, his large hands gingerly pushing your thighs apart. He watched your expression carefully and stopped spreading your legs as soon as the slightest hint of discomfort crossed your features. His gaze then dropped down to your bushel of hair and he swallowed thickly, knowing you were all slick for him under there.
"I want you to relax," he continued, squeezing and kneading both of your thighs, his gaze returning to yours as he bunched the skirt of your nightgown around your waist. "Just relax, princess. Your body is preparing for your handsome prince, but I'm going to help you along. Make sure everything feels good."
He flashed you a grin, which made tingles run down your spine as you watched Remmick lay on his stomach and settle himself between your thighs, his hands coming to grip your hips. You let out a tiny squeak as he pulled you closer to his face, and you couldn't help but start to wriggle your hips within his grasp.
"What are you doing?" you asked, your voice all soft and innocent. You lifted your head off the pelts and blankets to see Remmick looking back at you from where he had his cheek resting against one of your thighs.
"Helping you prepare for your handsome prince," he said in reply. He then raised his head and dropped his gaze to your bushel of hair, which he started to part with one hand so he could get a better look at how aroused you had become. "You're new to these things, my princess. I want to make sure you're ready. It's what a good handsome prince would do."
Remmick admired your slick slit beneath the hair. You were such an innocent-looking thing, but you had become so wet just from your first kiss.
Once his eyes had gotten their fill of you, he then leaned down and opened his mouth, dragging his tongue along your slit. He started at your entrance and went all the way up to your clit. One hand kept you bare and open for him while the other kept you steady as you starting writhing around.
"R-Remmick!" you gasped on a broken breath. You heard him hum in reply, the sound vibrating against your most sensitive flesh. The feel of his tongue on you was most definitely foreign, but it was pleasurable. The more you felt him lapping and sucking at you, the harder it was to stay still. Your body didn't know what to do with these foreign sensations and pleasures.
"Just feel for me, princess," Remmick murmured. He could tell your mind was in disarray from your writhing, and while it pleased him, he needed you relaxed. He knew your virgin body would resist him, and the more relaxed you were, the easier it would be for him to take you. "Just feel and relax. Be a good girl and turn off all the thoughts in your pretty head."
Good girl.
You moaned and mewled. Remmick's hand tightened its grip on you in a firm way, but only to ensure you were still enough that he could properly taste and taint you. He squeezed your hip as he circled his tongue around your entrance, the source of the essence he was drinking down like blood from the artery. He then dragged his tongue upwards to your clit to lick and flick it, making this pressure within you build and grow.
You felt like you were about to burst any second. Your hands found his hair and gripped like he was a lifeline. The feel of your small nails digging into his scalp made him hiss softly, and he gave your clit a particularly hard suck between his teeth.
"Remmick!" you whined, back arching off the pelts and blankets. That pressure inside of you finally burst, and it was the most intense pleasure you had ever felt all it once. The feeling came crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You squeezed your eyes shut and let every sensation come over you—from the tips of your toes to the tips of your fingers.
Remmick had to use both hands to keep you still as you experienced your first orgasm. He had you pinned to the pelts and blankets by your hips as he sampled your gush of nectar from the source.
As much as he would have liked to lap up every last drop, he knew your juices would help ease him into your virgin body. With great effort he pulled away from your quivering hips and thighs. He lazily swiped his tongue over his lips, gathering every bit of your essence as he watched your eyes flutter open.
You were beautiful. Even in the throes of carnal passion, you still looked like an angel. You were all soft and flushed and pliant. Your eyes, all wide and innocent just minutes ago, were now darkened and glassy with desire. The way the candlelight caught the slight sheen of sweat on your skin made you look like you were glowing faintly in the dimness of the old chapel. Your lips were parted just so, soft breaths slipping past them as you settled from your first orgasm.
"Don't speak," Remmick said, his voice a soft, rough murmur as he reached over to silence you, placing his index finger over your soft lips the second he saw them part further as if to speak. "You feel good, don't you, princess? I made you feel good."
You nodded slowly, still in a bit of a daze. You did feel good. You felt like you were floating on a cloud of bliss and pleasure, and it was all because of Remmick.
Remmick smiled. He could read you like a book, but it felt good hearing you confirm what he already knew. It gave his ego a good stroke and made his pants feel unbearably tight.
He helped you out of your nightgown, tossing it aside and laying you back down once you were free of the garment, getting a good look at your bare body. His eyes and hands trailed over you. The very tips of his fingers could feel your veins and the blood they carried beneath your skin. You were so soft and warm. You were alive.
It almost made him want to keep you alive a little while longer.
Almost.
Everything that made you mortal would be sacrificed in exchange for eternity.
You would never be free of Remmick, and he would keep you by his side until the end of time.
Forever his princess.
Remmick started to take his clothing off. His suspenders were the first to go, then followed by his shirt, both of them joining your nightgown to the side. You watched him undress from where you lay, unable to keep yourself from staring and blushing. This was the first time you were seeing a man in a state of undress.
"Now, my princess, I won't lie to you," he said, once again laying on his stomach and settling himself between your thighs, "these things can…hurt. It can hurt your little princess body at first." He placed his hands on your thighs and once again spread them open, stopping the second he saw discomfort flicker over your features. "But your prince will take care of you. And you'll be a good princess and tell your prince if he's hurting you, won't you?"
"Yes, Remmick," you softly replied.
"Good girl," he purred.
Remmick gently pressed the tip of his index finger against your soaked entrance. His crimson gaze watched your face carefully as he started to ever so slowly push his finger into you. He felt your body tense before the discomfort changed your expression and he stopped right away.
"You're okay. It's okay." His voice was a soothing, low rumble in the dim light of candles. He pulled his finger away so you could crawl atop of you, his half-naked body covering yours.
"Look at me," he gently commanded. Your brows were slightly furrowed from the earlier discomfort of something trying to breach your virgin entrance, but you didn't look like you were in outright pain, nor did you look frightened.
"Th-that hurt a little," you shyly stammered, remembering to be a good princess and tell your prince if he was hurting you.
"I know," Remmick replied. "Relax. Relax, my princess."
He leaned down to kiss you, his hand reaching down to place his index finger at your entrance again. He swirled it around the edge, gathering as much of your slick as he could for lubricant, then started gently pushing into you. When he felt you tense again, he deepened the kiss and started to slip his tongue past your lips.
"Shh, it's okay," he cooed against the kiss, as if coaxing a small creature out of hiding. "Let me in, my princess. Let in your prince."
You wanted this. Your body's resistance was frustrating. You wondered if these intimate matters were difficult for everyone. This was making you feel guilty and like there was something wrong with you.
"Deep breath right here," Remmick murmured, the sound of his voice dispersing your rapidly fraying thoughts, almost as if he knew you were starting to spiral within your mind. You felt the comforting weight of his free hand as he placed it over your stomach. "Right here, my princess. Deep breath with your tummy." He pulled back from the kiss just enough to watch you inhale, your stomach rising as you filled yourself with air. "Let it out slowly now." The air you inhaled left your body slowly just as Remmick had said.
"You didn't even notice, did you?" he said, the grin on his face audible in his words. A moment of confusion settled over your features before it was quickly replaced by the realization of a new sensation between your legs.
Remmick had slipped his finger inside of you.
It felt strange to your virgin body, but he was inside of you.
"You're such a good princess," he praised, returning his mouth to yours to reward you with a kiss. "I knew you could do it."
"I'm doing good?" you asked, soft and shy.
"You're doing more than good, my princess," Remmick reassured. "You're doing wonderfully."
Your smile was bright in the dim candlelight. You felt relieved and happy. Your arms reached for Remmick and wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer for more kisses, which he was more than happy to give, especially when it distracted you from the hesitation of being penetrated for the first time.
The weird feeling of having something inside the most intimate part of you faded slowly and turned into something more pleasurable as Remmick moved his finger deeply and slowly within you. He would pull out, almost all the way, and then push back into your wet, tight heat, which you could feel was ever so slowly loosening as he twisted and gently curled his finger within you.
"Need to get you ready," Remmick murmured against your lips, teasing his tongue along the seam, eliciting a sweet noise of pleasure from you. "Need my princess ready for her prince." He pressed his thumb against your clit; another orgasm would get you even more relaxed and lubricated for him.
"Remmick!" you mewled, your nails digging into his bare skin as you felt his thumb pressing the most sensitive part of your body. Your back arched, your breasts pressing against Remmick's chest.
"There she is." Remmick moved his finger in and out of you in time with the pressing and rubbing of his thumb on your clit, breaking the kiss so he could watch you fall apart. "Come again, my princess. Come for your prince."
Remmick watched with rapt attention at the expressions your face made while on the edge of ecstasy. The same angelic face he watched night after night peacefully sleep now contorted in pure pleasure—pleasure he was giving you. It took him great restraint not to finish in his pants from the sight.
Remmick gently pulled his hand away from you. He had to keep it together again as he saw the shine of your juices soaking his index finger, a strand even briefly connecting your sopping hole to his hand before breaking. He cleaned each drop from his skin thoroughly with his tongue as you trembled and panted from another orgasm, all hot and flushed and sweaty.
You blinked a few times, your eyes staring up at the ceiling of the old chapel as you took a moment to regain your bearings. You felt like you were floating again, but movement out of the corners of your eyes caught your attention, and you turned your head to see Remmick taking off the rest of his clothing.
Your eyes widened when you saw the very thing you were feeling in his pockets after your first kiss.
You had never seen a man before, so Remmick looked big to you.
Would he fit? He got his finger inside of you, but this…this was much different than a finger. But he helped you take his finger as painlessly as possible. You trusted your handsome prince. A prince would never hurt his princess.
"It's not very princess-like to stare, sweet girl."
Somehow, you felt your cheeks darken more than they already were. You swallowed nervously and met his gaze. The same teasing in his words was also on his face. Suddenly feeling flustered, you turned your head away and curled up on your side, to which you heard Remmick chuckle.
"But I don't mind, sweet girl," Remmick continued before you could stammer anything out. You felt him gently take your shoulder so he could lay you on your back again and look at your flustered face. "You're just curious about your handsome prince, isn't that right?"
"Yeah," you replied shyly. You knew Remmick wasn't truly upset with you staring at him, but it still made you feel better to hear him tell you he didn't mind.
Remmick smiled and patted you on the cheek; you were precious inside and out. He then sat between your legs, parting them to wrap around his waist.
"Remember to be a good princess and tell your prince if he's hurting you," he said to you softly. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips for encouragement and reassurance. "Relax and let me in, my princess, just like last time."
You took in a shaky breath. Another followed, this one coming from your stomach, just as Remmick had you do earlier. You were very nervous, yet also excited. Such intimate scenes were not included in the fairytales you read as a little girl, and though these matters were just barely being introduced to you, you still found yourself anticipating what was coming next.
Remmick was, too. He was going to finally lay his claim on you after so much time spent watching you live your life from the shadows he had been confined to for centuries. He was going to claim your virginity and mortality and bind you to him, making you part of him and his existence of shadows and blood.
Forever.
You squeaked like a small forest creature as you felt Remmick at your entrance, notching himself. He felt you tense and was quick to start soothing and encouraging you.
"Shh, shh, shh," he hushed. One hand held your hip while the other cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing the skin under your eye. "You can do it, my princess. I know you can. Just breathe the way I told you to."
"O-okay," you said with a nod, your breath shaking from nerves and anticipation. It took you a couple of breaths to get your breathing to even out, especially as you felt Remmick rubbing himself up and down your slit, coating his tip with your juices. Each time he brushed over your clit you would mewl and wriggle, his hand at your hip gripping more firmly to keep you still.
"Such an excitable princess," he teased. He notched himself at your entrance again. "Take in a few breaths now, sweetness. Get yourself nice and relaxed."
With Remmick no longer teasing your clit with his tip, you were able to breathe easier. You took in one deep breath after the other, making sure your belly was filling and deflating with air. As you breathed deeply, both of Remmick's hands gripped your hips to keep you steady as he started to push into you.
"Just like that, sweet girl," he murmured, his breath ticking the sensitive skin of your neck. He nuzzled into you and gave you soft kisses as little whimpering noises started coming from your throat. "You're doing so well for your handsome prince. So well, pretty girl." He caught of whiff of the blood pulsing in your veins and bit back a growl, not wanting to scare you as you experienced penetration for the first time. Just the scent of your blood beneath your skin made him want to rut into you like a wild animal, but he knew he couldn't. Not yet. He had to give you the fairytale experience first, and then he could ease you into true carnal depravity.
Once you were bound to him, he would have all the time in the world to show you the wonders of the flesh.
"I…I think I did it," you said aloud, your voice soft as your mind vocalized its thoughts. You glanced to the side and saw Remmick pulling away from the crook of your neck, taking with him the small kisses he was leaving behind.
"You did do it, sweet princess," he said to you. He then gently took one of your hands and placed it between your legs, allowing for you to feel the connection between your bodies. Your eyes widened, and then you started to smile. The innocent pride forming on your face was a stark contrast to the lust glazing your eyes. Remmick didn't feel all the way in, but just the amount you could feel was inside of you was more than enough encouragement. It made you feel braver and more prepared for the rest.
"I'm going to start moving now," Remmick said, allowing you a moment to physically and mentally prepare yourself. Both of his hands took one of yours, placing one on either side of your head and gently holding them down. He loomed over you, his shadow covering you. "Just keep being a good girl, okay?"
"Okay," you softly replied.
Remmick leaned down and placed a kiss against your cheek. He placed one more, two more, and then started to trail them down along your jaw. At the same time you felt him moving his hips. He pushed more and more of himself into you, eliciting a sweet symphony of pained and pleased noises from your throat.
"That's it," he breathed against your skin as he soothed and revered you with his mouth. "It'll hurt, but it'll feel good. All at once." He started to nibble and nip at your neck with each kiss, both pleasuring you and teasing himself for the moment of finally biting you. "Just relax, sweet girl. Let in your prince."
You bit back a whine, the sound getting stuck in your throat. The stretching of your most intimate area hurt, yet you wanted more. It was an interesting paradox you found yourself in. Your want for this intimacy pushed against the pain and fear of it. You felt them pushing and pushing against each other until your desire won in the end and eclipsed your hesitancy.
"Remmick!" you gasped. Your hands tensed and twisted within your prince's grasp, but he easily kept them pinned against the furs and blankets of your shared bed. Your hips wriggled and squirmed, rubbing against Remmick's as he fully sheathed himself inside of you.
"Damn!" he cursed with a soft breath into your neck, keeping his face nuzzled close to the artery pulsing within. "You feel so good, princess. So good." He carefully pulled himself out, just enough so half of him was still inside of you, and then pushed himself back in with the same care. He knew to start with a slow pace, but the temptation to let loose right away was there.
You met each of Remmick's thrusts with soft mewls and moans. You felt him kissing and licking and nipping at your neck again as your body gently moved beneath his, your breasts bouncing slightly against his chest.
"C-can you…can you go faster?" you stammered out between breaths and moans. You were feeling particularly brave now, and Remmick had more than shown he could be trusted with your well-being.
"As my princess commands," you heard him growl softly against your neck. He then started to move faster, pushing in and out of you with more haste. Your request had pleased him greatly and finally allowed him to take you the way he wanted to, and he liked hearing his sweet princess vocalize what she wanted during intimacy. He would make sure to cultivate this over the centuries.
As Remmick picked up the pace of his thrusting, so did the noises coming out of you. More of your moans and mewls and gasps spilled out of you and into the candlelit space of the abandoned chapel. With a whine you let your head fall to the side, resting on your cheek as you listened to the sound of your own noises blending with the clapping of skin against skin.
"Mng! Remmick! O-oh! Remmick!"
The way you cried out his name elicited more growling from Remmick between his grunting and groaning into the skin of your neck. You sounded so sweet. He couldn't remember the last time he heard something that made his spine tingle all the way to its very base.
And your blood. He kept his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck as he took you so he could breathe in the sweet life essence flowing through your body as he took you. You smelled delicious. Even now that you weren't a virgin anymore, your blood still possessed a unique smell that he couldn't wait to taste on his tongue. He started to drool, thick saliva coating your skin, but you were too lost in the carnal moment to notice.
"So good, my princess," he panted, a grunt following. His hands tightened their grip on yours, becoming more firm than painful, keeping your arms pinned. He dragged his tongue along the column of your throat, spreading more of his thick, sticky saliva like a claim on you. "Gods above! You're incredible!"
Remmick's fangs couldn't keep themselves out of your veins for another second longer, and with his release fast approaching, he was going to let all of himself go.
As he bit into your neck, his fangs digging deep and piercing your veins, the mask of the fairytale prince fell away. Remmick revealed himself as the monster under the bed he truly was, but as your pained scream rang through the night, it was far too late for you to turn back. You had handed yourself over to what you believed was your handsome prince, and now the creature beneath the pretty mask had laid its claim over you and tied you to him.
The sounds of pleasure coming out of you quickly turned into pained, fearful whimpers. You struggled as you felt Remmick suckling the blood out of your throat, but he kept you underneath him, his hips thrusting wildly against yours and stilling once a warmth started to fill you.
"Take me," he groaned, his voice mumbled as he spoke with his mouth full of your blood and flesh. "Take me, my princess, as I take you."
Once satisfied, Remmick unlatched from your neck. He pulled away and finally released you, but you felt too weak from blood loss to do anything but lay there as he slid out of you with a wet squelch. Your eyes, now partially closed and dulled, took in the sight of Remmick's bloody mouth, but you were too weakened to recoil in fear and disgust.
"There, there," he cooed softly. He laid next to you on your shared bed of pelts and furs and gingerly wrapped his arms around you to pull you against his chest. "I know you must be scared, but you shouldn't be." One hand started to pet your hair. His other arm remained a tight band around your body to keep you right where you belonged. "You'll be with your handsome prince forever now, my princess." He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Our happily ever after will never end."
You replied with a soft groan. You didn't have the energy for any of this; you were only able to catch a few of Remmick's words in the state you were in.
With his essence inside of you and your blood inside of him, a bond had been forged, one that wouldn't break so easily.
And that's how Remmick wanted it.
You felt Remmick nuzzle into your hair, still petting it gently. "I can't wait to see how beautiful you will look when you awaken." He gave you another kiss on the top of your head, and then another on your forehead. "We'll have all the time in the world together." The hand keeping you held next to him slid down your body and between your thighs, feeling the slick slowly drying there. You whimpered softly and weakly jerked your hips, unable to resist the pleasure he was wringing out of you still.
"Be ready for your prince when you awaken, sweet princess," he whispered into your hair. "He has much more to show your body, and we have all the time in the world now."
warnings: afab reader, breeding kink, baby fever, established relationship, piv, cowgirl, creampie, lion has a stupid big dick, discussion of having kids/settling down, reader is mentioned to have an accounting job & is the nerdy type, having kids is treated lightheartedly bc they’re in love and know what they want, slight fluff, reader has some body/self-image issues
a/n: no beta. loosely inspired by @spikedfearn’s excellent girldad!lion fic series. also based on “sillyfun” by doja cat bc it rips and screams lion to me. even though there’s an interracial pairing in the fic banner, there is no race specified for reader
divider creds @softandsleepyboy
It was palpable whenever the two of you went to the supermarket and happened to pass by the ‘baby section’. The way your bottom lip stuck out in awe at every one of the products specially designed for the little humans. Whether it was a bassinet, a bouncer, or one of those rubber bibs that could catch food, you were obsessed. Anything jungle or “Lion-themed” in the slightest sent you over the edge. Your own Lion—your Walter—tried to remain impartial, merely nodding along warmly at every tiny, cute thing you presented to him in adoration. But even he couldn’t stave off his own genuine curiosity.
“Wonder how much use you’d really get outta this kinda thing,” Lion arches his eyebrow skeptically.
He holds up a medium-sized box containing a 3-in-1 baby bottle warmer. Its inoffensive pastel yellow packaging and loopy-de-loop bumblebee design has you endeared to the product instantly. You shrug, clearly never having had any firsthand experience with items like it.
“I dunno,” you say, “My co-worker Becca had like six different versions of these on her gift registry when she was preggers. You remember Becca, don’t you?”
“Sure,” Lion says.
He does not.
“Guess there’s some that sanitize and defrost and others that can only do breastmilk or only formula—it’s just, like, a lot,”
“And that’s just for warming up bottles,” he sighs with exasperation, a faint drag of a smile forming on his face.
Lion sets the box back on the shelf, watching as you smooth your fingers over the cottony four-pack of onesies hanging on a rack of other unisex baby clothing. You had both made your desires to have kids somewhere down the line clear from damn near the first date. Even still, the two of you carried on like the consummate adults you both claimed to be. For the first few months of dating, Lion wore condoms whenever the two of you were intimate. You had been and still were on the pill, even three years later.
While you had found stability with your career in accounting and Lion, with his limited formal education background, managed to secure a job in management at your local youth rec center, the goal was to wait until after you were married. As that was the orthodox way. But the more you’d been mulling on it, the more it truly occurred to you just how unorthodox what you and Lion had was.
For starters, he moved in with you in less than a year, much to the dismay of your mom and dad. He was, of course, a big-time sports fan and ex-boxer who still grappled with the physical consequences to this day. You barely ran the mile in under twenty minutes in high school P.E. By some of your friends’ accounts, you and Lion were an odd couple. Many found you akin to a 2000s teen romcom, with Lion subscribing to the knucklehead jock stereotype,e and you embodying the geeky mathlete profile.
But you loved him to the moon and back, and he loved you, and you alone lit up the sun. It was deeper than date nights, consisting of takeout or putting on scary movies he hid in your chest for the entirety of. Though those didn’t hurt either. From his shaggy copper-brown locks to his crooked nose to his shaky hands and his bouncing knee—those eyes were home. And you never, ever wanted to leave.
Not without some little footsteps trailing behind you, at least.
You peer back over your shoulder, eyeing the progress Lion’s been making with the zipper of your midi bodycon floral print dress. He was struggling a fair bit with it on account of his arthritic fingers, and you were beginning to feel bad.
“D-Do you need…? Lion, I can just—”
“N-N-No, I-I got it. Y’asked me to. I can do it,” he says in a determined tone.
“Babe,” you chuckle, “Seriously,”
“...think it’s caught,” he mutters.
You roll your eyes, not believing him at first, redirecting your focus to securing one of your hoop earrings to your ears. A few more moments pass, and you sigh, wanting to just do it yourself. You nudge his hands away, awkwardly wrangling the zipper into your hand from behind your back. The angle makes your shoulders ache,e but you soon realize the zipper is indeed caught on something, more than likely the dress itself.
“Shit. I’m sorry, Li. I thought you were just messing around,” you cringe.
“Who? Me? Messing around? Never,” he jokes in his thick Bostonian accent you love.
You scoff and let the dress sleeves hang limp off of your shoulders, the zipper barely stretching up over the curve of your ass. You pivot on your heel to face Lion, half-dressed, while he looks swell in his baby blue button-up and navy tie.
“Guess I could just show up to dinner like this?” you say, eyebrows raised.
He snorts at your blatantly exposed torso and pastie-covered nipples, bobbing his head along to your suggestion. With open arms, he takes you in, grinning and pressing a kiss to the crown of your scalp. Then he humorously begins to lightly sway with your figure, sashaying to some imaginary music in his brain.
“At least then this cheap ass dress might look half-decent,” you muse.
“Please. Y’could show up in a burlap sack and you’d still knock ‘em dead,” he murmurs into your hair.
“Uh-huh. Totally. I’m no Marilyn Monroe, that’s for sure,”
“You are to me,” he says, candidly, “You are,”
You gaze up at him, mustering a tender smile while a lump grows in your throat. You clear it, shaking off any impending teariness.
“You make me weepy with my makeup done while I’m also out of that good waterproof mascara, and it’s your ass, just so y’know,” you chuckle, playfully nudging his shoulder.
“Yes, ma’am,” he folds, releasing you.
Before he can so much as blink, you’re pulling off your dress and tearing into your closet, flinging various garments onto your shared bed. He watches in amusement and occasionally picks up a piece of clothing to look at it.
“Gimme a color,” you huff, hands on your hips.
“What?”
“A color. To wear.”
“…ehm…pink,”
“Pink,” you snort, “Any particular reason, my love? Feelin’ romantic?”
“Something like that,” he says, sheepishly, beaming down.
After a few more moments of indecision, you land on a pale pink ruched, off-the-shoulder milkmaid style dress that you hadn’t worn since last spring.
A daring choice for dinner, but it was comfortable and hugged your curves in all of the right spots. Its skirt flared out just above your tummy in a way that didn’t make you feel self-conscious and instead put emphasis on your shape. Its hem ended just above your knees. You decided to pair it with your maroon Mary Janes and some white knee-high ribbed stockings. The whole outfit was darling, and you felt cute in it. Lion did make a mental note of you going braless.
In fact, for the entire dinner, his gaze remained fixed on your chest, his mind preoccupied with nothing else. He sat opposite you as you insisted on sitting next to your girlfriend Maya, while Lion, in turn, sat next to her fiancée Derek.
While your dress was by no means revealing or left little to the imagination, Lion was mesmerized by the way the fabric ghosted over your breasts. It sort of gave the illusion that they were larger and more pronounced. Full.
It made the end of his cock bob in his pants, dribbling into his boxers. Derek had to repeat himself multiple times, as you’d overheard. You catch Lion staring at one point,t and he flinches, looking elsewhere out of embarrassment. This causes you to giggle and take the short heel of your shoe, gliding it over the top of his sneaker flirtatiously.
It was not long after that that Lion hastily asked for the bill.
Lion fumbles with his keys more than usual as he attempts to unlock your shared apartment’s front door. You spectate with amusement, playing with one of the belt loops on his jeans.
“You’re cute when you’re anxious, y’know that?”
He looks over at you, eyelids fluttering like he needs to focus extra hard to process each one of your words. You wonder if he even heard you over the blood thumping in his ears, the bulge in his jeans not having waned in the slightest.
He manages to unlock it, propping it open for you as you slink in. You busy yourself with setting your purse down on the small table nearest to the door as Lion secures both the doorknob and doorchain. It's as if he wants to ensure not a single soul would be able to interfere with the two of you. Before you can even say a word, he’s on you. Groping, grasping all the softness your body has to offer.
“Easy, tiger!” you giggle, “Haven’t even gotten my shoes off,”
“Not a tiger…I’m your boy…I’m your Lion,” he mumbles, against the skin of your neck.
You take his face into both hands, his gentle, tealish eyes finding your own.
“Mmm… my Lion. That’s right, baby. You’re my Lion. My sweet, sweet boy. Aren’t you?”
He whimpers against your collarbone, hands supporting your lower back.
“Really think I’m pretty, Lion?”
He nods, trembling
“Prove it.”
“B-B-Baby, f-fuck, you’re takin’ it. You’re takin’ it so good. D-Didn’t think it-it’d—but y’did,” Lion babbles, cheeks flushed, “Fuck.”
His hair was matted with sweat while his Adam’s apple bobbed with each gulp. His quivering fingertips were clinging onto the flesh of your hips for dear life as you bounced up and down on him ceaselessly. You being on top took some maneuvering due to his size, and there were many times when you had to tap out because it was just too uncomfortable.
This was not one of those times.
“I-I-It’s s-so deep, fuck. Fuck. Li, I mean it, I feel it in my chest, oh my god,” you sob, lip trembling.
You clutch at your bare tits that have been strewn about wildly with your reckless pace. Ever since you began riding him this time, you noted how his eyes had been tightly wound shut out of fear of finishing too quickly. It was typical when you were on top of him in any fashion—riding his cock, holding him when he was rather anxious, plucking his brows—for his eyes to take on a floaty, frantic appearance.
Like he couldn’t decide where to look first because you were just that gorgeous to him.
“Lookit me, Li,” you pant, “Look at me. I’m bouncing on it so good, aren’t I? Huh?”
Those nails grip your sides suddenly while his tongue darts out to swipe across his lips, mouth agape and breathy.
“Yes, baby. Yes, yes, yes, it’s so good,” he whines, eyes still closed.
“Oh, yeah? How come y’ain’t looking at me? Hm? Not pretty enough for my little kitty cat?” you tease.
In an instant, Lion’s eyes snap open to defy your claim, borderline insulted that you would say such a thing about yourself. Just when you think he couldn’t pry at you any harder, Lion takes over, ramming you down onto him repeatedly.
Tears prick your eyes at the pink scratches his short nails dig into your plush hips. The head of his dick bores deeper into you more and more, your cervix taking the brunt of his ruthless pace. The wet, sloppy noises of your cunt quickly gliding over his length overtake the room. It’s downright pornographic. You nearly feel betrayed by your pussy, the way it squelches and grips around him. The way it sings for him.
“So fuckin’ pretty, takin’ it like that. Say you’re so pretty takin’ this dick,” he grunts, “Go on, say it,”
“Mmngh, I-I’m s-so pretty…” you whimper into his neck, bracing your weight against him.
“No…,” he says in a low voice, correctively.
It's a warning tone you’ve never really heard his voice take on before. It makes you sigh high-pitched and pitifully into his ear out of embarrassment. Usually, he was the shy one.
“I-I’m s-so f-fuckin’ pretty, takin’ t-this dick,” you cry.
Several sharp brisk spanks hit your asscheek and you yelp.
“Yeah, you are! Yeah, you fuckin’ are!” he says through gritted teeth.
His pumps lose force more and more with every passing buck of his hips. That fighter’s stamina was something else, but Lion could hardly deny himself the release he’d wanted the second you nonchalantly climbed into his lap during the game. Your bedroom TV may as well have been muted with the creaking of the mattress and the ridiculous smacking of skin and your moans that have melted into his own, drowning it out.
“W-Where? Where, baby? Where d’you want it?” he groans.
“In here,” you lean back on him, pressing your palm over your lower stomach, “In here. Gimme it. Gimme a baby, Lion—”
Like a hairpin trigger, Lion stiffens as if the wind just got knocked out of him, his thrusts becoming more sparse and punctuated but deep. You take everything he gives you, biting your lip through the almost unbearable pressure being hammered into your core.
He clings to you like you’re going to fade away out of existence, weeping your name into your chest. You coax him back to a more relaxed state by stroking his hair and cooing in his ear. The aftershocks come, manifesting in the form of random, reflexive jolts of his hips. You suck and kiss his neck, smirking at the mess you’ve made of your favorite boy.
Perhaps Lion was more on board with this ‘having a baby idea’ than you’d thought.
End.
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