#KIS TINY LITTLE HANDS AND FINGERS WITH A CUTE LITTLE RING MEANT FOR HIM

[thero0ks]

Carnations and Constellations <Deimos! Alexios> NSFW

Request:  hiii!! i found ur blog could u perhaps write about deimos! alexios and or connor catching feelings for a soft girl and they gets obsessed with how her body is so soft compared to theirs? fluff or smut(?) either way is fine!! id just like it to be super cute ;_;

This is my first attempt at smut. Let me know what you guys think! :) Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Please don’t read if you’re under 18.

***

A gift for the Deimos. It was an honor, and the gods would smile upon her. The truth was she was expendable, and they were terrified of the monster they created. 

Humans were cruel creatures, and the cult of Kosmos were full of twisted individuals. He became what he had to to survive. 

"You are to do his bidding." Those were the last words her father spoke to her. 

Their control over his rage was slipping. The cultists hoped he would channel his rage onto her, in whatever way he deemed fit. 

She was instructed to kneel by a low chair. By the weapon racks surrounding it, she assumed this is where he stripped his armor. "You will not look at him until he deems it." A cultist ordered.

"Deimos, the cult of Kosmos have blessed you with a gift." 

He studied the woman, taking in her figure, her soft features looked out of place in the dark room. 

Cold steel pressed under her chin. The blade tilted her chin up and she met honey eyes. Eyes that wanted to hold warmth, but churned violently instead. Dark circles ringed his eyes, but he had a face that was more beautiful than Adonis himself. 

"If she isn't to your liking we can find a more suitable offering."

In a flash his blade was pressed against the cultist's neck as he seethed, "what are you still doing here?" 

The man managed to sputter out a cry as Deimos shoved him towards the door. He thudded against the marble floor, and scrambled out of the room. "What do they call you?" 

"Y/N." 

He studied her a moment, "I expected you to say I could call you whatever I liked."

"That is what they told me to say." She confessed. "I haven't any reason to appease them." Her jaw was set, and shoulder's square. 

She had some spirit about her, which he found amusing. "And you are mine to do as I please," he mused sitting in the low chair next to her. Calloused fingers gripped her jaw inspecting her face once more, "Aphrodite has blessed you, and they have given you to me unspoiled?" He questioned, studying her gaze. 

She gave a simple nod, which seemed to appease him. He'd grown up around serpents, and had no patience for liars.  

"Well?" He gestured to his armor as he sat. With nimble fingers she was quick to strip him of his armor.

"Would you like me to polish it too?" She inquired, placing the armor on it's stand. 

She was startled to find calloused fingers lightly gripping her neck. His low voice was the harbinger of death. "Do you think I'm so easily fooled?" 

"Please, just do it." She said laying her hands over his. "If it's not you, it'll be someone else." 

Her words startled him, and his grip loosened. "They'll try to exploit you if you ever came to care for me." His fingers ran down the soft slope of her shoulders as he took her words in. She was a pawn too, but to the cult she was expendable. 

He knew for both of their sake he should end it now. It would be quick, her bones would be easy to break, and her neck would snap like a twig. However, she was so small, so vulnerable that he couldn't entertain the thought of striking her down. 

"Perhaps you are a gift from the gods." He muttered. His fingers catching a bit of silk fabric that hung about her waist. 

The touch was fleeting as he dropped the fabric. Y/N could feel his demeanor shift behind her. "Polish my armor." His voice came out gruff as he stalked out of the room.

She set to work polishing the armor and blade until they both gleamed.

He returned late in the night to find her sound asleep against one of the weapons racks. A sound of surprise escaped his throat when he saw the polished armor.

Her calming presence had confused him, and he'd removed himself from the room to ponder it. However, coming back to her sleeping form had stirred a gentleness within him that left him more confused.

He had concluded that he would use this gift the gods gave him. He had never had the time to explore a woman's touch, perhaps she could melt his cold heart. 

He made his way over to her, in a gentleness that surprised him, and he placed her on the soft bed. He shrugged on an azure linen chiton before sitting on the edge of the bed. She’d curled into herself, and she looked tiny. Like the carnation petals that littered Zeus’ temple floor. The jewel studded hair pins glittered in the moonlight, and Deimos plucked them from her hair. Ten pins littered the small table when he was finished. 

He finally settled in behind her. She looked peaceful as she softly stirred beside him. Her eyes fluttered open. He watched her process reality. His hand shot out to grip her bicep before she could sit up. Again he was reminded of her size in his calloused palms. “Stay.” His deep voice melted in her ears. She settled back down into the warmth of his body.

The bed was cold when she awoke the next morning. His armor gone, and a platter of fruit, cheese and bread were laid out on the table next to her. She ran her fingers through her hair as her gaze rested on the pile of hair pins. He’d taken the time to remove each one, and he even shared his bed. 

The man wasn’t a monster, so why did everyone fear him? Her mind replayed the moment he’d thrown the Cultist across the room. Could that classify him as a monster? If she had the power to show the Cult of Kosmos that kind of wrath she wouldn’t hold back either.

The gilded doors creaked open, and several cultists walked in. Y/N’s shoulder tensed at the sight. The cultists appeared to be surprised she was unharmed. The leader of the group spoke, “you will accompany Deimos to the feast tonight.” The cultists took a step closer, Y/N could feel the cultists’ breath fanning her neck. “If he acts out, you will be the first to feel our wrath.” 

She recognized that voice. It was amusing seeing her father shocked she was still breathing, and here he was threatening her with violence. He snapped his fingers and a maid quickly rushed forward. A pile of white fabric laid across her arms. “They will get you ready.”  

The cult turned to leave, as Deimos entered the room. The cultists scurried fast out of the room to avoid his fury. He crossed the room in a few strides and grabbed her chin. His grip was firm, but slightly tender as his eyes flickered over her body checking for any harm that could have befallen her. “What did they want?” His voice was deep, and demanding. 

The maids cowered at his presence, “they wanted me to ensure you would not act out tonight.” 

“Or what?” His words came out as a feral growl as he took a step closer. His breastplate felt warm against her skin. 

“They will punish me.” Her voice was soft, but her words hung heavily in the air. Anger radiated off his body. He turned to the weapons rack, and in the blink of an eye he sent a bronze shield through the rack. Steel clattered on the marble floor, and the maids whimpers echoed off the walls. Y/N spared them a glance, and could see the women shaking. Tentatively she reached out. His back went ridged when her hand met his arm. “Don’t worry about me.” She said gently, “they fear you too much to take me away.” 

“If they lay a hand on you.” He paused, inhaling deeply.

“I know.” She said softly, as he brushed his fingers against her cheek. Her gentleness was something that had been lacking in his life. The thought of anyone laying a hand on such a kind heart had him seeing red.

She pressed a soft kiss to his palm before turning to the maids. The three women scurried to their feet, head down so as not to catch Deimos’ eye.

The ladies unclasped the brooches letting the silk fabric pool at her feet. Deimos had taken a seat to sharpen his blade. His eyes flickered up at the rustling of fabric. Soft curves hypnotized him. They were a stark contrast from the hard worked muscles of his body. It would be easy to dismiss the maids, he longed to feel the softness of her breast, and the roundness of her ass. Before his mind could go much further white silk was fastened into place. 

The dress left little to the imagination. It was another way for the Cult to show their control. What was supposed to be his, wasn’t really his, and they made sure it was known to him. He watched them pin her hair up in an elaborate style, applying perfume.

The ladies left as quickly as they came, and Deimos took her in. She looked like a flower to him, and she seemed out of place in the dark room. The only light in his dark and twisted life. She took a seat on the bed and she gripped the blankets tightly. Something tugged at his heart, it was a new feeling for the warrior. She looked terrified, she’d managed to hide it well so far. He did not think the fear was directed at him. Most quaked in his wake, but she hasn’t shown him an ounce of fear. 

“I will not let any harm befall you.” 

His voice surprised her, and she let go of the linen blankets. “I’m sorry.” The words came out as a whisper, and she’d never felt so small. 

Deimos took a seat next to her. He’d never learned how to comfort himself let alone another person. He longed to take her in his arms, but was unsure of his own touch. 

Teary eyes took him in: his muscles tense, and jaw clenched. The warrior was trying to console her, even if that meant sitting next to her awkwardly. “You’re very kind.” 

A look of surprise crossed his features. He looked down into her earnest (e/c) eyes. “No one has ever used that word to describe me.” 

She brought her hand up to brush against his beard. A very tender gesture, and Deimos felt like putty in her hands. He brushed his nose against her’s before pressing his lips to her’s. She melted into his touch. His lips were rough, but his touch was gentle. Fleeting kisses peppered her jaw and neck, as calloused fingers traced her curves. He fumbled with the brooch when the doors slammed open. 

Deimos was already at the man’s throat before Y/N could blink. “The cult is ready for you.” The man gasped. Deimos released the man, “come.” 

Y/N scurried along behind him. Her legs working overtime to keep up with his powerful strides. A group of horses were waiting outside of the fortress entrance. A sleek black stallion looked decorated for war. Y/N could only assume the stallion was for Deimos. The cultists ushered her to the back of the line. They seated her on a bay horse. A mercenary was ponying her horse. Apparently the cult didn’t trust her to not try and escape. 

The banquet was being held at a nobleman’s house. When she dismounted, she could see the gleam of Deimos helmet disappear behind the house. The mercenary that was ponying her to the party guided her through the doors with a push of his hand. She found the mercenary was always in eyesight wherever she wandered. The wine table took too long for her to find. Her eyes flickered across the various faces in the room. She was startled to find her mother amongst some of the ladies. When she caught her eyes, her mother sneered, and turned her back. The group of women laughed, all throwing her judgemental looks. 

She wrapped her arm around herself, hoping the floor would swallow her up. She took a deep pull from her goblet. Damaged goods, that’s what she was to her family. They tossed her to the wolves, and had the audacity to mock her. Most people avoided her, but she didn’t miss the hushed whispers that passed around the room. Words like whore and slut were directed at her.

When she finally found a secluded hallway, she pressed herself against the wall. The cold marble felt good against her hot skin. The past couple days had been a whirlwind. The only constant in her life was Deimos. Everyone called him the monster, but he was the only one who had shown her a sliver of kindness. 

A crashing noise sent her back into the banquet hall. The marble railing gave her a perfect view of the scene below. One of the large cypress tables was tipped on its side. Wine and oil mixed on the mosaic floor. A middle aged man cowered at the sight of Deimos. His golden blade glinted. Deimos looked like a god in the way his armor glowed in the candlelight. He cut an imposing figure as he strolled around the room. People cowered and stared in awe at the sight of the mighty Deimos. All wondered what depths of Hades had spit him out, his voice held a hint of boredom. The way a cat lazily plays with a mouse before it devours it. “Did you think you would escape me?” Deimos drawled on, his eyes circulating the room. 

The man pleaded some incoherent words. He even resorted to pleading on hands and knees. “I grow tired of this game.” Deimos stated, before plunging the blade through the man's throat. Y/N gaped at the sight. Never had she seen such violence. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt hands on her arms. She glanced up to see the mercenary ushering her forward. 

The wine and oil splashed across her dress as she made her way to Deimos. He stretched his hand out for her to take. Hands were stained red, and Y/N was unsure if it was the wine or the man’s blood. Her eyes flickered down to the swirling of crimson and berry. Steeling herself she took his hand, showing weakness would give the cult satisfaction. Deimos led her through the crowd. The whispers about her had stopped, she had no doubt they were terrified of Deimos hearing their poisoned words.

The black stallion was waiting at the entrance. Deimos lifted her onto the steed, before mounting. She wrapped her arms around him as nudged the horse forward. 

The sun fading painted the sky in brilliant colors of pinks and purples. It was the first time they’d been truly alone. No procession in tow, no walls full of vipers, just the music of the cicadas and the salty breeze that blew in from the sea. The stallion slowed its pace to a walk, as Demios navigated the horse down a steep slope. Deimos dismounted, before assisting her down. 

 Never had she been somewhere so beautiful. A small waterfall cascaded down the cliff side into a small pool. Deimos studied her expressions, he was glad she seemed to find beauty in this place. He never intended for her to see the monster he’d become. With the Cult of Kosmos it was unavoidable. Her dress was stained with the other man’s blood. He stripped his armor until he was in only his chiton. He turned to her to see her watching him. He laid out a soft blanket, and pulled out a clean dress. He took great care in unpinning her hair, to let it fall down her back. Calloused fingers unclasped the brooches, letting the soiled dress fall to the ground. 

She was starkly aware of her own nakedness, as Deimos brushed her hair to the side to kiss her neck. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled into her neck. She furrowed her brow at his guilt, but he’d already swept her into his arms before she could respond. He sat her on a rock, and began to wash the blood from her skin. Honey eyes focused on his task, and Y/N assumed this was his way of atoning for what he had done. Deimos’s hands felt good against her skin. The way his large hands massaged her calves as he scrubbed back and forth until the water ran clear. She wanted to know how his hands would feel everywhere. 

When he finished his administrations, he sat her on the soft blanket. Taking great care to keep her warm. With a jolt of courage she softly stroked his beard. His eyes flickered up, confusion evident on his face. Perhaps he expected her to fear him like everyone else. Instead she pressed her lips firmly against his. He was quick to return the kiss. His kisses were rough, but she could feel the longing in them. How long had he gone without connecting with another soul? If Y/N had to guess, she was the first one to willingly touch him. 

Soon she found him on top of her. One palm cradling her neck as he peppered kisses along her jaw, while the other balanced him above her. His whiskers brought a pleasant burn against her skin, that his lips soothed as they passed over her skin. The gentle moans that escaped her lips only encouraged him further. 

The sight of her breasts caused a sharp inhale in the warrior. The soft shape was a stark contrast to his battle hardened body. He peppered kisses along her breasts before thumbing each nipple. The weight of her breasts felt full in his hands. He captured one in his mouth as he rolled the other with his thumb. Small hands tugged at his hair, as soft whimpers escaped her lips. Deimos couldn’t decide if he liked the feel of her breasts more, or if it was the sinful noises his touch solicited from her lips. 

His hand cupped her sex as he captured her lips with his once more. He kissed down her body before settling in between her thighs. Y/N sat up on her elbows in anticipation feeling his breath against her sex. Dark eyes flickered up at her lighting a fire in her core. His arms tightened around her thighs as he lapped at her clit. Fingers gripped his hair, and her back arched on its own accord. 

Lustful eyes glanced up at her to see her enraptured in ecstasy. Deimos added his fingers, slowly stretching her to accommodate him. The added pleasure soon had her seeing stars, and that coil soon became so tight it finally released as her orgasm washed through her.

He climbed up her body giving her a deep kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, it was cool and fresh. Like drinking from a cold mountain spring.

“I want to make you feel good too.” Her voice was soft as she gazed up at him with blissful eyes. This pulled a small smile from his lips. Her sweetness was contagious, and she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

“Climb on top.” He said softly, ridding himself of his remaining clothes. Soon she was straddling him. “You can go as slow, or as fast as you need.” 

The velvety skin was soft in her hand. She gave him a few strokes, which solicited a low groan from him. He gripped her thighs at the sensation. She slowly sank down on him. The pain she was feeling slowly turning into a sweet burn. When she was fully seated she gave herself a moment to adjust. Deimos gripped her hips, he knew she’d probably bruise there, but he wasn’t expecting her to feel this fucking tight. When she started moving again Deimos found himself in pure bliss. He rub her clit encouragingly, which solicited soft moans from her. When he couldn’t take it anymore he flipped the two over. Y/N looked surprised at his strength, he hadn’t even bothered to pull out. “Touch yourself.” He commanded as he set a brutal pace. She went to work on her clit, and soon she was so close. She would cum if he kept hitting that spot. “Cum for me.” Deimos demanded, and she found herself falling over the edge. Deimos wasn’t far behind, he ceased when he became too sensitive. He waited to catch his breath before finally pulling out. She curled into his side, and he brushed back her hair. She looked stunning in the moonlight, her soft curves made her look like Aphrodite. 

After cleaning them both up he set to work making a fire. He’d brought extra blankets. He hadn't planned on returning to the fortress until morning. 

They gazed up at the stars, and she pointed out several constellations to him. Her knowledge of the stars surprised him. “Why study the stars?” He inquired.

Her brow furrowed, and a peaceful silence settled in the air. “They’ve always seemed so free.” Her voice grew quiet, “people find beauty in what they are. They don’t have to be anything that they aren’t.” She sighed, “I suppose I envy that kind of love.” 

Deimos studied her hard, “who taught you to be so small?” 

A blush bloomed on her cheeks, “my family I suppose. Though I don’t think I can call them that now.” She added. 

“I heard what they said tonight.” Deimos said quietly. “I’m sorry. They only say it because of me.”

Y/N glanced over at him, his eyes looked sad. He’d been called a monster for so long, he actually believed it. “It doesn’t matter what they say.” She reached out to stroke his beard. “You’re a star, and they are nothing.”

_______

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