@luridtruths asked: “you sound so pretty when you moan” cc: @antolcgias / nsfw, kink. pirates verse!
THE FIRST TIME HE’D WORN A DRESS, it had been too big. He was malnourished and overworked, and it being the smallest dress in the house didn’t stop it from falling loose around his frame. It worked out alright — a man cinched it around his waist with pins and it served its purpose, stayed on him throughout the theatre he’d been pulled into. The acting didn’t come natural to him but it didn’t need to. It was intimate and light-hearted; twenty men, perhaps, just blowing off steam. One kissed him once the production was over, called him a pretty thing in a most reverent way, and Sam shivered.
The first time he’d worn a dress in Nassau, the girls had tailored it just for him. It looked odd on the hanger, broad-shouldered to accommodate the healthy muscle he’d gained, but it felt nice on his skin, made him feel fluttery-nervous in an intriguing way. The man who’d asked him, shyly, to wear one had cursed at the sight of him, held him close when they fucked and whispered a woman’s name into Sam’s neck.
Then hell rained down on Nassau and Sam didn’t think twice about it, left it behind in his closet as his Captains put him on a ship and sent him to safety.
And now they’re here: safe, tucked away from the world, and the dress is too small, just something they’ve commandeered from the abandoned home they’re hiding in. The straps strain to stay on his shoulders and the corset lays open down his chest, but the skirt is familiar, loose and soft against his legs.
It’s the first time he’s done this because he wanted to. Not like he minded it in the past, but — it’s the first time he’s sought it out, made the choice for himself instead of agreeing to it for someone else.
There’s a specific kind of comfort to it, and he thinks they feel it, too — Spencer, shirtless except for a man’s unbuttoned waistcoat; Reynold half-naked in stockings and a sleek robe. It’s like they’re all breathing a little easier, floating in the pretend reality they’ve carved for themselves here. Feeling their hearts beat for something other than survival for the first time in a while.
Sam leans back into Spencer’s spread legs, lets his head rest on her shoulder, and she pulls the leather tie free from his hair, combs it out to lay loose around his face. Reynold’s on his knees in front of them, his hands buried in Sam’s dress and his mouth working its way up slowly from Sam’s ankle. It’s a torturous, blissful process, and when his kisses finally reach the sensitive skin of Sam’s inner thigh, he moans, soft and breathy, and slides his legs wider.
“ You sound so pretty when you moan, ” Spencer whispers, low and dirty in his ear, and Sam shivers, whines like a helpless thing. He feels pretty. Long loose hair and soft cream dress, he feels smaller, gentler. Vulnerable, in a way that only comes when you truly trust someone.
He twists to kiss her and there’s a desperate bite to it, reminiscent of the rough edge she always wants from him, but she holds his throat in her palm and slows him down, turns it tender and intimate, like she knows just what he needs even before he does. Reynold finally finishes his path, but he ignores where Sam is hard and leaking. Pushes Sam’s thighs further apart instead, and up, up, up, until he can nuzzle his way under his balls and lick him there. It’s not like Reynold's never rimmed him before, but — like this, in the dress, it’s like — it’s l i k e ...
“ Say it again, ” Sam gasps into Spencer’s mouth, his eyes wild and glazed over. She smirks and coos softly, lovingly mocking, and strokes his jaw. His fingers dig hard, desperate, into her thighs on either side of him. Reynold’s tongue presses deeper.
Like he’s a girl.
“ You like it when we call you pretty, hm? ”
Sam nods, because he’s gone, any lingering shame crumbled expertly under their touch, and Spencer rewards his honesty with a kiss, dirtier this time. The hand not around his neck strokes his hair, tugs his head back a little further until he looks her straight in the eye.
“ You’re our pretty boy, ” she promises. “ So good for us, aren’t you? The noises you make, the way you look in this fucking dress... yeah. So fucking pretty. ”
He whimpers, bites his lip as his heart pounds and his chest heaves, and Reynold’s blunt nails press harder into the underside of Sam’s thighs, before he hums an agreeing, “ So pretty for us,” into Sam’s skin.
Spencer smirks, makes eye contact with the other captain over Sam’s trembling body, and redirects Sam’s gaze to Reynold, too. The robe’s draped off his shoulders, one stocking a little higher than the other, his face flushed and lips slick-red. Spencer presses her mouth to Sam’s ear like she’s telling him a secret, but makes sure she speaks loud enough for Reynold to hear.
“ Who knew the fearsome fucking Captain Argent could be pretty too? ”
