Oh Captain, My Captain
Fandom: Wicked: For Good (Movie Adaptation)
Pairing: Captain of the Gale Force!Fiyero x Reader
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Tags: Fluff, Smut, Uniform Kink, Fingering, Unprotected P in V Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Slight Dom/Sub Vibes, and Explicit Language
Word Count: Around 3000
Written For: Shadow's Kinktober 2025 and @sweetspicybingo
Squares/Prompts Filled: G4 - Uniform Kink for Shadow's Kinktober 2025 | O1 - Uniform Kink for Sweet and Spicy Kink Bingo
Requested By: @a-quick-request from this ask
Dividers By: @/saradika-graphics
A/N: My loves!! I'm back! I'm so happy to be home again. I know October has since passed, but I will be honoring and posting all those Kinktober fics I promised. I have a lot of the requests started so stay tuned while I get them finished and posted. I hope all of you enjoy them even though they're extremely late. I'm so sorry for that. I do hope all of you will forgive me. I adore you all ❤️ And without further ado, enjoy a feral Fiyero Tigelaar...
You should have been finishing your hair.
You should have been putting on your shoes, or your jewelry, or doing literally anything other than standing frozen in the doorway of your bedroom with your lips parted like you’ve just had the wind knocked out of you.
But Fiyero was buttoning his uniform jacket.
And nothing, not the brightest constellation, nor Elphaba's magic, nor the Wizard himself, could’ve dragged your eyes away from his reflection.
His back was to you at first, broad shoulders stretching the deep emerald fabric as he shrugged it onto his body, rolling it into place with a soft flex that made the seams strain for a passing moment. Gold embroidery shimmered over him in the early morning light. His hair was slightly messy from sleeping beside you, but the uniform…oh, it did things to you.
He reached for the next button.
You made a sound that was soft, involuntary, undeniable.
He froze.
Slowly, very slowly, he turned his head toward you, expression shifting from casual focus…to curiosity…to a knowing, devastating smirk that hit you low in your stomach.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, voice deep and warm enough to melt steel, “you’re staring.”
Your throat went dry. “I-I wasn’t...I mean, I was, but you look-”
“Go on...”
He faced you fully now, fingers pausing at the top button, leaving his jacket teasingly open at the collar. “Tell me what I look like to you.”
You swallowed. “Dangerous.”
A quiet hum left him. Pleased. Predatory.
He lifted his chin, eyes dragging down your body in a slow, claiming sweep.
“Come here.”
Your legs moved before your mind caught up. Heat rushed through you, pooling thickly low between your thighs. He didn’t touch you at first, he just watched you approach, chest rising with restrained breath as if he could already smell the want rolling off your skin.
When you stopped in front of him, he dipped his head, nose brushing your temple.
His voice grazed your ear like velvet and smoke.
“Kneel.”
A command, gentle but absolute.
You shivered.
And then you obeyed, kneeling at his feet as if your body had been carved for this moment.
His gloved thumb grazed your chin, tipping your face up to him. The authority in his eyes made you feel small in the sweetest, most devastating way.
“You can’t focus when I wear this, can you?”
“No,” you whispered, breath shaking. “Not even a little.”
“Hm.” His thumb stroked your lower lip. “Good.”
He unbuttoned his jacket, letting you see every inch of tanned skin revealed beneath. His abs tightened as he slid the jacket off his shoulders, but he didn’t drop it, he draped it over your hands.
“Hold that for me.”
You trembled. “Yes, Captain.”
His breath hitched.
And then he was on you, lifting your chin with one hand while the other curled behind your head, pulling you in for a kiss that stole straight through your bones.
His mouth was commanding, devouring, angled with perfect dominance as he deepened it. Your hands clutched the fabric helplessly, the scent of him filling your lungs, fresh air, warm sun, and something uniquely Fiyero.
He broke away just long enough to murmur against your lips:
“I’m going to fuck you on this floor.”
Your pulse thundered.
He didn’t ask, he guided, one hand cupping the back of your head as he eased you onto your back, laying his emerald-and-gold jacket beneath you so you’d feel the weight of his rank against your skin. He settled between your legs, one knee pressing them open while his fingers skimmed up your inner thigh.
“So needy already,” he murmured, smiling against your throat as he kissed down it, slow and claiming. “Just from watching me dress.”
You gasped when his fingers found heat, slick, swollen, and aching.
He groaned.
“That’s for me?” he whispered. “All of this?”
“Yes! Fiyero, please!”
He kissed the hollow of your throat. “I’ve got you.”
And then he slid two fingers inside you, deep and precise, curling just right, and your cry broke into his mouth. He caught it with a kiss, swallowing your sounds as he worked you open. His thumb circled your clit, coaxing pleasure through you in steady, overwhelming waves.
“Hear that, baby?” he murmured. “Hear how much your pussy drips for me?”
Your hips lifted helplessly. His body pinned you effortlessly, his breath warm against your cheek.
“Look at me,” he commanded softly.
Your eyes met his, stormy blue, molten, starving, and that alone nearly pushed you over the edge.
He felt the way you tightened around his fingers.
His voice dropped to a growl.
“Cum for your Captain.”
Your orgasm crashed through you, shaking you from your fingertips to your toes. His fingers didn’t relent, he carried you through it, praising you in a low stream of words that melted you entirely.
When you finally slumped against the floor, trembling, he kissed your cheek gently.
“Good girl.”
But he wasn’t done.
He freed his cock from his trousers, settling his hips between your legs with a low, needy groan. His tip brushed your entrance, slick and hot, and your breath stuttered.
“Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you,” he whispered.
“I need it so bad. I always want you.”
He pushed in slow, inch by inch, burying himself inside you until he was seated fully. Your gasp mingled with his shuddering breath.
He wrapped your legs around his waist and lowered his forehead to yours.
“I’ll go easy,” he murmured. “But make no mistake-”
He drew back and thrust deep, slow, claiming.
“-you’re mine.”
His rhythm was controlled, steady, relentless in its intensity. Every snap of his hips angled perfectly, making your breath break in soft whimpers. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs brushing your skin with absurd gentleness despite the strength in his movements.
“I love how you look splayed across my colors,” he whispered. “I love how you look under me.”
“Fiyero-”
“Say my name when you cum,” he breathed against your lips. “Say it so the whole damn palace hears.”
You shattered.
He held you through it, fucking you through your orgasm until he swore under his breath, “fuck...sweetheart...” and spilled inside you with a deep, shaking groan.
He collapsed over you, careful not to crush you, pressing his face into your neck as he caught his breath.
After a long, trembling moment, he lifted his head and smiled softly.
“I fear you've ruined me,” he whispered.
You stroked his cheek. “Only fair. You ruin me daily.”
He kissed you before brushing your hair back from your forehead.
“Next time,” he murmured, “I’ll put the uniform on even slower…just for you.”
The morning after he’d taken you on the floor, on top of his own uniform jacket, you woke to the lingering ache of him in every muscle. The beautiful, satisfying soreness that came from being thoroughly ravished.
Fiyero had left early for patrol, but not before kissing you murmuring, “Rest. I’ll be home before you miss me.”
You missed him within minutes.
All day, you couldn’t stop replaying the way he’d looked at you yesterday, hungry, proud, completely undone by how much you wanted him in uniform.
So you decided to surprise him.
When late afternoon sunlight streamed warm and gold across your bedroom, you slipped onto the bed…wearing absolutely nothing beneath his Captain of the Guard jacket.
The emerald fabric swallowed your shoulders and fell open just enough to reveal a teasing stripe of bare skin, the gold embroidery glinting against your thighs.
You lay back against the pillows, legs parted just enough, heartbeat fluttering in anticipation.
Finally, you heard Fiyero’s boots in the hall.
The shift of his sword belt.
His voice calling gently, “Sweetheart? I’m-”
He stepped into the room.
The rest of his sentence never made it out.
He stilled. Completely. Like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed.
His eyes dragged over you in one slow, devastating sweep, the jacket, your bare legs, your exposed throat, the tilt of your hips framed perfectly by his uniform.
When his gaze snapped up to yours again, something inside him went dark and bright all at once.
“Sweet Oz…” His voice cracked roughly, disbelieving. “Is it my birthday?”
You giggled sweetly. “Welcome home, Captain.”
The sound he made was a growl, torn straight from his chest.
He was on the bed in seconds, knees sinking into the mattress as his hands bracketed your thighs, pulling you down beneath him. His fingers dug into the fabric of his jacket on your body, gripping it like he needed to make sure it was real.
“You put this on,” he murmured, “just for me?”
“Yes.”
His breath shuddered.
He didn’t kiss you.
He devoured you.
His mouth crashed onto yours, desperate and hot, stealing the breath from your lungs. His hands slid beneath the open front of the jacket and found nothing but bare skin.
When he realized you were completely naked underneath, he pulled back just enough to look, his pupils eclispsing his irises, chest rising and falling with unsteady hunger.
“You’re…fuck…sweetheart, you’ve got nothing under it.”
His thumb brushed your hip.
“You’re wearing my rank and nothing else.”
You nodded, whispering, “Because you ruined me yesterday.”
He hissed through his teeth.
His hand slid between your thighs, and the second he felt the heat of you, the slickness, he nearly broke.
He cupped you firmly, thumb circling your clit with a claiming pressure that made your back arch.
“You’re already soaked, Oz, did you start without me?”
Your voice broke on a gasp. “No...was waiting...wanted you-”
He leaned in close, lips at your ear.
“Good. Because I’m going to take you apart.”
His fingers teased your entrance. one slow drag that made your thighs tremble, and then he slid them inside you, deep and filling, curling exactly where he knew you needed.
You cried out, clutching the collar of his own jacket around your body.
“That’s right,” he whispered against your mouth. “Hold onto me. Hold onto my colors. Let me hear you.”
He pumped his fingers hard enough to make the bed frame shudder, his thumb rubbing your clit. Every thrust coaxed another sound from you, helpless whimpers, soft pleas, broken moans that only fed his frenzy.
“You look so good like this,” he rasped. “Spread out in my coat, taking everything I give you.”
Your climax built fast, too fast. His uniform on your skin, his scent all over you, his voice in your ear.
“Fiyero! I’m gonna-”
His fingers continued to fuck you relentlessly.
“Oh, you’re gonna cum,” he growled, “but you’re gonna wait until you're stretched around my cock.”
He withdrew his fingers, leaving you aching, and unfastened his belt.
He freed himself, thick and already dripping for you, and pressed the head to your entrance with a groan so raw it vibrated through his chest.
“You did this to me,” he whispered. “You. Lying here like a dream.”
Then he pushed in.
Slow only for the first inch, and then he snapped his hips forward with a deep, fierce thrust that stole your breath. His hands pinned your wrists above your head, the sleeves of his jacket slipping down your arms as he held you in place.
“Look at you,” he breathed. “Taking me so deep...so perfect...Oz, sweetheart...”
You could barely breathe it felt so good.
He pulled out halfway, then slammed back into you with a force that made the headboard strike the wall. The jacket fell fully open beneath you, emerald and gold against your skin as he fucked into you with raw, hungry possession.
“You’re mine,” he growled, thrust punctuating every syllable.
“All.”
thrust
“fucking.”
thrust
“mine.”
Your orgasm hit so hard your vision blurred.
Your cry broke, high and desperate, his name spilling from your lips in ragged pleas. Your body clenched around him, trembling uncontrollably.
Fiyero swore, sharp, bitten off, and thrust three more times, deep enough to make stars burst behind your eyes, before he shattered with a low, guttural moan, burying himself inside you as his body shuddered over yours.
For a long moment, he simply held you, breathing hard, face pressed to your chest, hands trembling where they cupped your thighs.
Then, softly he lifted his head and kissed your cheek.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered. “But I am never, ever, letting you go.”
He eased the jacket back over your shoulders, covering you gently before settling beside you and pulling you into his arms.
“Tomorrow,” he murmured against your neck, “I want you to wear the hat too.”
Fiyero Tag List: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @a-quick-request
