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osamwah · 11 hours ago

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a guard for hire ノ moze

₊ ˙ ⊹ . your diplomatic visit to one of the xianzhou ships is of utmost importance. thus, general feixiao lends her personal guard to ensure your safety. the short stroll in shadows takes an unexpected turn, one that leaves you both smitten.

ৎ୭ — · · 2.8k ノ fem reader — reader is a high-ranked diplomat . bit proud and bratty ノ petnames — princess ノ moze is giving emo aura ノ quickie . manhandling against the wall . thrill of getting discovered ノ cumming inside . mentioned protection ノ one night stand but suggestion to continue the relationship . flirting going both ways

The light breeze of the docks brings the scent of incense and distant melodies. Your arrival on one of the Xianzhou ships is marked by the swirl of silken banners and the quiet greeting of highest elegance between you and a few other diplomats.

The title of ‘Princess’ is a misnomer, one that clings to you like an unwanted gossip, yet here you stand, poised and ready to fulfill your role.

A figure detaches from the shadows as you step off the polished platform after exchanging pleasantries. Moze, the infamous shadow of the Great General Feixiao of the Xianzhou Yaoqing, moves with the quiet grace of a predator. His greyish features are looming over you like a storm, emphasising the stark contrast of his fuchsia eyes that seem to pierce through your very being. His demeanour is akin to a crow, brooding and enigmatic, a man of both dignity and foreboding.

“Welcome, Princess,” he addresses you with a curt nod, his voice low and devoid of warmth. The title grates on your nerves, but you swallow your irritation, knowing that he is your shield tonight.

“Good evening, indeed it is. Moze, correct? Long time no see…” you reply, striving to match his aloofness. “General Feixiao has entrusted you with my safety.”

He inclines his head again, a gesture that feels more like an acknowledgment of an obligation rather than respect. “Follow me,” he says, turning on his heel without waiting for your response.

You fall into step behind him, the bustling celebration fading as he leads you through a series of narrow passages. The noise of the festival is muffled here, replaced by the distant hum of the ship’s core and the occasional clink of unseen machinery. His presence is both a comfort and a source of unease; his silence is palpable, a constant reminder that one does not receive a prominent place by the general’s side so easily — he must possess many hidden talents, and you’re unsure if you should pursue your curiosity about any of them.

“As per usual, the security here is disappointing. Suspicious patrols are too active tonight,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “We must avoid unnecessary attention.”

You purse your lips, unsatisfied but unwilling to press further. The passageway twists and turns, your guide leading you with an unerring sense of direction until he suddenly halts, raising a hand to signal you to stop. You glance around, finding yourself in a secluded corridor, far from the festival’s epicentre.

His proximity is unsettling, the cold aura he exudes a barrier to the warmth of the celebration you can no longer hear. Yet, there is a confidence in his movements, a silent assurance that he will protect you, even if his loyalty remains as shadowed as his past. Should you even trust him? No, you mustn’t doubt the general’s word. She would not have sent her personal guard to you otherwise.

In a swift movement, Moze pushes you against the wall, eliciting a quiet gasp from your lips. One hand curls around your neck while the other grabs your hip, keeping you still.

“What are you doing?” you let out a silent scream at him, but he covers your mouth with his gloved hand — the awful realisation striking you how large his palm is compared to yours when you try to pull it away, unsuccessfully.

“Shh, patrols.” All he says, barely moving his lips, eyes flickering to the side and head tilted a degree to listen.

“But—”

He moves his hand, cupping your cheeks and chin instead, silencing you with the gesture. His touch feels heavy, inexplicably intimate. “I can’t let them see you.”

Your chest heaves as you struggle to find words to reply, but none come. His neon eyes burn into yours and it feels like the air has turned thicker, heavier, charged with electricity. You see him tense as footsteps echo through the closed street and then all of a sudden, he pulls you closer to him.

“Keep still. I can make us disappear.”

A violent shudder runs through your body at his command, and you immediately feel his thigh pressed between your legs. Is he even aware?

The silence hangs between you, filled only by the hammering of your heart and your harsh breathing. Every sense is attuned to his closeness, the hard press of his chest against yours, the heat emanating from his body, the rough texture of the metal details on his gloves against your skin. His fingers are tight on your chin, ensuring your eyes are fixed on him.

His presence is overwhelming, crushing, yet he seems completely unaffected, scanning the darkness with laser-like focus. How can he be so impassive? Why do you feel this way?

A small eternity passes before he finally relaxes his muscles, eyes gliding to meet yours — for the amount of emotions he shows, which is barely anything, they almost express an apology. “They’re gone.”

“Mhm,” you hum, unable to say anything else. You fear if you open your mouth, he’ll hear how your breathing hitches at his touch, hear the thoughts in your head that were anything but noble, hear your desire and confusion that pools in your core.

“We must move on, Princess. Don’t waste time,” he warns you as he steps back, unexpectedly releasing you from his grasp. Your body immediately misses his closeness, despite how overwhelming it felt. Trembling fingers clutch to his coat involuntarily, before you even notice they move on their own.

But Moze notices, ever vigilant, eyes quickly flashing to your hands, and back up at your face.

He then bows his head as he retrieves your hands away from him, placing them against your sides — almost tenderly. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath, before his brows knit together in a deep frown. “You are my duty. This is no time for idle musings.”

“Hmm… You say that, but do you know what I feel down there?” you whisper, clinging to him closer, the prominent bulge in his pants impossible to hide and easy for you to press after approaching these remaining inches between you two.

He remains still, save for the pulsating twitch beneath your fingers — he is quiet, the rise and fall of his chest slightly uneven, eyes glazed with indecipherable emotion.

A second too long for you to consider him interested, reading yourself to experience the worst shame, but he finally draws you in for a kiss, claiming your lips in a possessive manner, hungrily devouring your mouth like you’re air itself and he’s drowning.

Moze tastes just as you imagined — his tongue smooth, dark and wickedly talented as it glides against yours. The deep growl that reverberates from his chest seems to flow into your mouth, the sound sending an electric current of desire through your body. Your nails claw at his neck, hips desperately rolling against his thigh, searching for any friction you can get. Fuck his military pants and fuck how coarse they feel compared to your silken robes.

A muffled moan escapes your lips as he moves to trail his mouth along your jawline, leaving behind a blazing path of kisses and small nips.

“How far can I—?”

“Until you cum inside. I need to get rid of the stress from this whole delegation…” You could feel him smirking against your skin, but you don’t see it — his gloved fingers wrapping around your neck, making your head spin even more than it already did, but in the most delightful way.

“I assume this much already, but it’s safe, yes?” He suddenly stops, going from possessive to worried so quickly you barely catch up.

“Of course, I wouldn’t risk my career now,” you exhale, long lashes fluttering and lips swollen from his kisses.

You bunch up your expensive robes above your thighs, enough for him to see your glistening cunt, folds puffy with your slick, due to him — that rough fabric of his pants taunting you as a challenge to push you this far. Himself, he works fast on the buckles and belts of his pants, tugging down the parts necessary for his erection to spring free — he must have been aching for release just as much as you did, maybe even more. He gives himself a few pumps, ensuring he’s hard enough before he pulls you back into his embrace, just enough for him to access your entrance and lift you up without delay.

His mouth seeks yours again, this time with more urgency.

“So… Please, give me this honour. Take me. Give me something worth remembering after this night is over,” you mumble between his kisses, eyes wide open in anticipation of what is to happen.

The first thrust makes you weak in the knees, the feeling of his length sliding inside you is indescribable. You thought that his energy and aura were overwhelming before, but now it’s multiplied tenfold. You slip on one of your heels, but he secures you with his forearm under your lifted knee. The sound of your silk robes swishing as he moves against you is like music to your ears.

“Be quiet, Princess. Would you want someone to find us?” His voice is harsh, lips brushing against your earlobe as he whispers to you. As if reading your mind, because a wanton moan was already blooming in your throat, barely swallowed in time.

Your hips ache, both from the impact of being held in the air and how furiously you buck against him. You move in tandem, bodies writhing together, yet moze keeps control over your movements. The weight of his cock is deep and relentless, fucking you into a frenzy, making your eyes roll back as your legs tremble. His gaze burns into yours, all your attention consumed by his presence.

“How are you holding on?” His voice is barely above a whisper, eyes half-lidded and clouded with desire. “Knowing that it could end your career, how are you dealing with it?”

“I… Fuck, I don’t care about it now! You’re so smug about it, shouldn’t you do better if you still have the time to mock an official that pays you for your job?” you reply with a sharp pride, albeit quietly, but enough to send him the message. He seems almost impressed, judging by the smirk he gives you in return.

Fixing the hold he has on you, both of your knees now in the air and all your weight pressed against the wall and in the grip of his muscular arms, there’s no way to escape as he lets you fall on his shaft over and over again, deeper and deeper, his tip kissing your cervix, the movements harsh and quick.

“I can’t keep quiet!” you mewl right into his neck, your resolve faltering as your pleasure grows.

Moze chuckles darkly at your begging, apparently finding it amusing how you tremble and your eyes roll back as he relentlessly pounds into you.

“Look at me, Princess,” he commands. “You’ll cum with my eyes on you.”

His intense gaze holds you captive, like a moth drawn to the flame. Every detail fixed in your mind — his furrowed brow, lips parted as he draws in ragged breaths, neon eyes blazing with lust. Your body is on fire, every nerve tingling with pleasure, your release so close yet out of reach.

In a swift movement, he rolls his hips to angle himself against your sweet spot, a smug grin stretching across his lips as he feels you tighten around him.

“You’re so gorgeous when you’re desperate,” he whispers, leaning forward to trail his tongue along your throat. “If we were not on a mission, i’d have you spread out before me on the silken sheets.”

“Do… not… order… me… around…! Just because I— I’m vulnerable now!” you keep muttering under your breath, half-irritated by his words, half-trying to compose yourself so you wouldn’t moan through your gritted teeth. Your neck is soaked by his kisses and occasional nips that he leaves there as he adjusts his pace, both to match the quiet music of the festival and make sure he hits all the right spots inside you.

It works perfectly. Despite your persistence, a few times you were close to slip out from his grasp and into a loud and shameless moan, but he holds you with an iron grip, coaxing your orgasm out of you with expert precision.

Your muscles tense and your mind goes blank, all your senses honed in on the feeling of moze filling you, completing you. He presses his forehead against yours, gaze fixed on your face as you unravel, a ragged moan slipping past your lips. He curses under his breath, a strained groan that reverberates in your chest. The coil of pleasure within snaps, ecstasy washing over you in a violent wave, sparks dancing before your eyes as you clench around him. You cling to him, fingers tangling in his hair, nails digging into his shoulders, holding onto him like a lifeline.

He stills inside you, the tremors of your orgasm milking his cock, urging him to his release. During that minimal break, your eyes meet through the delirious haze, and you breathe out the quietest “come for me…” that works like a whip on him.

A rush of heat fills you as he cums with a staggered sigh, gloved fingers tightening their hold on your hips as he grinds against you, prolonging both your pleasures until he stills, tip pulsing with his release.

It feels so hot inside you, all you can think about is how you would look with your legs spread, his cum dripping down your thighs. How you would love to let that happen… but it is not an option for now.

But this moment will be forever imprinted in your memory, in the back of your mind. Especially when Moze presses his forehead against yours again, and pants right into your mouth — tousled but not sweaty, his stamina formidable.

“This is a bonus. But I still expect you to pay my wages,” he then smiles.

You huff at his demand, irritated by his assertiveness despite everything. “That is not what I had in mind. You think of me lowly! I would assume to pay you even more now that—”

“I’m not a whore, Princess. I’m fine with the original deal. This is a bonus, like I said. For being endearing.”

It’s a little saddening how quickly he puts you down, not waiting for your answer and adjusting his outfit in seconds. And yet somehow he still makes you feel special, like a prized possession he didn’t want to let go of, an unexpected gift wrapped up in a crumpled bow.

“Right… The deal,” you scoff, slowly but surely finding your ground on the heels. They seem to be like an additional leverage now that he fucked your brains out so thoroughly, you’re impressed how you can keep balance after that.

His cold facade only breaks when you step away from him. You barely notice his eyes flick to your face and then look at your heels, noticing how you seem more balanced than before. “Hmm… Not bad.”

“Is that praise I hear? Oh, do tell me more,” you smirk.

He huffs a little in amusement as you’re yet to realise there’s a drop of cum trickling down your inner leg. And then another one, finally tickling you enough to notice. He cocks an eyebrow, rather pleased about it, but says nothing — not out of sympathy, but because he finds it funny how you blink in confusion and then pick up the corner of your robes, wiping it against your wet entrance.

Your skin tingles where his touch lingered, all too aware of how exposed you feel. You are used to the skimpy dresses that are part of your designated fashion, but Moze stares at you with such intensity it’s like you’re standing naked before him. You push the thought from your mind and will yourself to meet his gaze.

“You should be proud, I’m usually not so easily pleased,” you say, though your voice wavers more than you would like.

A lopsided smirk is the only indication that he heard you as he adjusts his glove, turning his back to you and expecting you to follow. “My only task for tonight is to keep you safe. If you wish for my other services, you would have to convince General Feixiao first to borrow me again.”

You study him closely, wondering if his words are true. Your skin still buzzes with the memory of his touch, though your true responsibility forces you to disguise your feelings.

“Let’s go.”

#to be read

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