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mountainsandmayhem · 7 months

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Wings. Fire. Magic.

Dragon Trainer Joel x Female Reader

Summary: After stealing an egg you become the prisoner of a very handsome human male. CW: no smut (yet), massage, weaponry, mild nudity, blood Word Count: 3.3k, just a teaser Graphics by @saradika-graphics 💚🐉

You peel one eye open, the man who has you captive appears to be sound asleep, leaning up against a rock with an axe across his outstretched legs, one ankle crossed over the other. The large trees rustle around you in the breeze. Moonlight dancing around his face, the scar along the side of his head glistens.

Ok, captive is a strong word. You did try to steal from him. You had stolen from him. A fiery orange egg. Between your magic and your wings you should have been able to escape. He’s just a human and you are one of the few magic Fae left in this world.

Last night, he let you out of the tightly wound chains he had wrapped around you since catching you. For two days you were stuck in those chains that glow a sickly green, chains that silence your magic. Now a single thick cuff, in that same putrid green, is wrapped around your ankle, a short chain binding it to a nearby tree. Your iridescent wings ache as you roll off your back and onto your side to face Joel.

Joel. Pfft. What a weird fucking name.

You try to stretch your wings quietly, but Joel’s eyes pop open at the little grunt you let out.

“What’s wrong?” He grumbles.

“Nothing,” you say defiantly as you roll onto your stomach and try to lift your wings out to stretch them. Your wings may look dainty and fragile, but they weigh more than you and without your magic it’s almost impossible to move them. You grunt again, if Joel hadn’t wrapped you in that fucking chain you wouldn’t be dealing with the uncomfortable tightness between your shoulder blades that can only be fixed by stretching and fluttering your wings.

Joel sighs in annoyance as he stands and walks over to you. The gravel crunching under his boots wakes the thing that quite possibly intrigues you more than it scares you. It’s a death sentence to want to be around her. It was a death sentence to steal that egg.

You try to slow your heart as you hear Remmer, Joel's indescribably large dragon move through the shadows behind you. Breathe, breathe, you say to yourself, sweat slicking your palms.

“What’s wrong?” He says again, more softly this time, feet stopping by your head.

“You fucking tied me up, Joel. With that enchanted chain for two fucking days. You squished my wings and now they’re sore.” You don’t mean for it to come out as a whine, but there’s a cold fire spreading across your upper back, slowly spreading up your neck and into your lower back.

He looks down at you, you stay on your stomach, eyes staring at his boots in front of you, resting your cheek on your hands. “You stole from me,” he says flatly.

“Ya, I know Joel, you made that abundantly fucking clear. Just go back to sleep.” You try to stretch your wings out and then up, but the right one cramps and a sharp pain lances through your body. You cry out into the quiet dark night and it echoes back at you mockingly.

“What can I do?” Joel says bending down beside you, placing a large warm palm in between where your wings meet your back.

“Rub there,” you say through the pain of the cramp. This isn’t like when you get a cramp in your calf, a wing cramp lights every nerve on fire. Tension builds in your neck and starts to blur your vision, your sciatic nerve shooting pain down both legs.

Joel rubs the space between your wings in slow gentle circles, his rough hand scratching against the leather of your jacket. You gasp out in pain again as the right side twitches harder. Joel moves swiftly, undoing the zipper down the back of your fighting leathers, opening it fully, rubbing at your bare skin where your wings connect to your back, trying his hardest to work out the knots. He continues the same slow gentle circles and your left wing finally relaxes, curling itself back against your body.

“Is this ok?” Joel whispers. His voice sounds dry and timid.

You moan slightly as the cramping begins to ease. “A little harder,” you say.

He kneads the joint of the right one a little harder and it flops down weakly beside you, but he doesn’t stop massaging you. His other hand trails along the top edge of your wing to the first joint and he gently folds it back to your body.

You close your eyes at the tingly sensation that spreads down your spinal cord at his touch, it feels like warm oil being drizzled down your back and the pain in your legs stops. No one has ever touched your wings before and humans are known to be vicious, yet there isn’t an ounce of fear in you as the man you’re currently a prisoner to cares for you.

His hand on your wing continues to trace along the outer edge until it’s all tucked up right above your hip. His other hand kneads down your spine and you melt into the hard ground you were sleeping on.

A little whimper passes your lips at how good his hands feel on your body. Both his hands trail lightly up your spine and massage at your neck. When they slip into your hair the pain in your head stops and your vision evens out. An almost pornographic moan passes your lips. He jerks his hands away and you bite your cheek to stop yourself from begging him to continue.

He lets out a low whistle. You feel the air move around you and the massive dragon lands beside you with a tiny thump. Fear rises in your throat like a dry lump. A voice inside your head laughs at you. Little Fae warrior, steals an egg yet is petrified of what’s inside.

Joel grabs your ankle and unshackles the chain. Then says, “Don’t run. Go back to sleep, we have a long journey tomorrow.”

The next morning Joel doesn’t wrap you in chains and make you sit side saddle on Remmer like he did the day before. Instead, he places a thin gold cuff that glows green around your wrist and then gives you a boost to sit normally before he hauls himself up behind you. He makes it look easy, his long powerful leg stretching, the lean muscles lining his back and arms pulling him up. The cuff silences your magic just enough that you won’t be able to fly.

The dragon rises from its crouched position when Joel takes the reins and you grab the edge of the saddle - even though you know that when you’re caged between Joel’s broad frame you won’t fall.

He lets out a whistle similar to last night and with one long swoop of her wings the dragon is up in the air. You tuck your wings in tight to your body, Joel's strong, leather wrapped chest close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. The warmth feels nice against the sore muscles lining your back, you have to fight the urge to lean against him completely.

He doesn’t bring up what happened last night so you stay quiet as the dragon soars high above the fluffy white clouds. Morning dew sticking to your skin, you gaze around admiring the rising sun casting hues of pink and orange around you. It’s almost kind of romantic, minus the whole being held captive and being taken - well, you aren’t exactly sure where Joel is taking you.

You sit in silence as the morning sun rises up and over you, until it becomes the evening sun. Joel pulls the reins and his dragon swoops down, skimming the surface of the large lake you didn’t even know you were flying over. The dragon drinks deeply, dragging her long obsidian claws of its back feet through the water. There’s a large mountain range on the other side of the lake and when you reach the shore the dragon gracefully veers upwards, landing in a grassy clearing between two peaks. Remmer lands so gently that you barely feel it, the only sign that you’re on the ground is that the wind around you has stopped.

Joel doesn’t take the cuff off, but says “I’m trusting you not to run” before climbing down the leg of his dragon. He disappears into the tree line, assumingly to gather some firewood, and the dragon turns her head to look at you, almost side eyeing you as if to say “get the fuck off of me you freeloader”.

You mutter an apology to the dragon, flinging your leg over the saddle, trying to replicate all Joel’s steps while the burnt orange eyes of the dragon watch you.

Once you hit the ground the dragon nudges you with her snout and you stumble forward before she takes off into the air, darting into a cave above the right side of the meadow.

Rude.

You look around the meadow, light green clover and colorful wildflowers cover most of it. Tall trees lining the edge of it, a jagged rocky mountain cliff face that leads to the cave closes in the rest of it. You hear water trickling, spinning around you see a stream of bright blue water. The water is so clear that you can’t tell how deep it is. The bed of the stream is covered in rocks of purples, greens and blues.

Joel is nowhere to be found and you’ve been up near the sun in these leathers all day. You glance around again before stripping off all your clothing and submerging yourself in the cool blue water. It flows over your skin like silk, you take a big breath and disappear under the water for a little bit, watching a few striped fish swim past.

Suddenly, a hand has you by your hair, ripping you from the water as a yelp leaves your mouth.

“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, trying to cover your naked body with your arms. But it’s not Joel. No, it’s three large males dressed in greens to match the meadow. All of them have large full beards and are armed with curved blades.

When humans think of sprites they imagine small woodland creatures. But some sprites are anything but that. In this land, sprites have been after fairy wings for as long as you can remember. The brutal males need the wings to make the potion to keep their unbelievable strength.

They speak to each other in a language that you don’t understand. Two of them grab onto you, one at your hands and the other at your feet. They spin you around and slam you face first into the ground. You scream out, hoping that Joel is close enough, or cares enough, to come help you. But maybe he brought you here for this reason. Maybe he only massaged your wings so tenderly last night because he’s expecting some sort of payment from these males.

The third male crouches down beside you. “Shut the fuck up, there’s no one here who can help you.”

His hand reaches around the top of your wing and he pulls it as hard as he can to try to pry it away from your naked body. If Joel had removed the small gold cuff around your wrist you may have been able to fight them off. At this point all you can do is squeeze your wings into yourself as hard as you can. They need the whole wing, joint and all to make their potion properly.

“No! Please!” You scream, seeing the long sharp dagger he pulls from his boot.

His feral touch on the sensitive membranes of your wings is almost enough to make you wretch. His cronies pull your arms and legs tighter, almost as if they’re trying to rip you in half, the sharp rocks poke and scratch underneath you.

“No! Help me! Someone!” You are practically sobbing.

You know you aren’t a good fairy. You’ve spent years stealing and taking things that aren’t yours, but it was for your village. Fae in this area of the world have been pushed out of land that they once owned. Your ancestors were injected with that same sickly green that Joel has embedded in his chains and then stripped of their wings. Magic and wings were lost for centuries. Babies were born without either, and only recently did it start showing up in a new generation of Fae. You thought yourself lucky at one time, but here you are, about to be flayed open like a spatchcocked chicken.

A sharp poke hits just above your right shoulder blade and you scream out in agony. Before you can comprehend what’s happening you’re encased in a dark shadow. For a moment you think you’re dead, until glowing flecks of orange light cast a warm glow around you. A wing. You’re surrounded, tented in almost, by a wing. You hear the males pleading on the other side.

“Easy there.”

“We didn’t mean no harm. Eaaaasy.”

You hear the sound of wood falling to the ground and as if he appeared from thin air, Joel is beside you, his axe gripped tightly in one hand. He’s crouching slightly and you wrap your arms around yourself to cover your naked flesh.

“NO!” You scream, trying to scramble away from him.

He puts a finger to his lips to shush you and then steps out from the wing.

The males go quiet.

“If you touch her again,” Joel says darkly, “My dragon will be the least of your concerns.”

“We have gold,” the voice of the one who was cutting you says, “give us the fairy and we’ll give you gold.”

Joel is silent for too long, you’re sure he’s considering it, about to sell you off. You reach over your shoulder to where the dagger pierced you and feel a sticky warmth against the pads of your fingers, pulling your hand back you see your fingers coated in blood.

“Stay. The fuck. Away from her,” Joel growls. Remmer huffing beside you.

You hear the footsteps of the men trail off. The dragon lifts her wing and then peaks at you with one eye. You stay seated on the ground, knees drawn to your chest, covering yourself up as best you can. A shiver runs down your body, the dragon's eye narrows slightly and then warm air blows from her nose, heating the space under her wing.

You smile at the dragon. “Thank you.”

“Lift up,” Joel says on the other side of the wing. The dragon growls quietly at him. “Ok weirdo. Can I at least hand her her clothes?”

She lifts just enough for Joel to slide your boots, leathers, and white cotton shirt under. The moment his hand is clear she flaps it back down and huffs at him. More warm air fills the space before she turns her head away so you can get dressed.

“How chivalrous,” you say to the dragon. The tented space under the wing is big enough for you to stand up in as you shimmy your clothes and boots on, leaving your jacket off since the joint of your wing is burning. You can already feel the soft cotton of your shirt sticking to you. “I’m dressed,” you call out when you’re done.

The dragon peaks in again at you. “Am I allowed out?”

Remmer stares at you for a little while before Joel speaks up from the other side of your cocoon, “Rem, she’s not your pet. You can’t hold her in there…”

The dragon eyes soften at you and you smile a little. “I’m ok, I promise. Thank you.”

She lifts her wing up and nudges you towards Joel, using her nose to turn your body so that Joel can see the blood.

“Shit,” he whispers.

“I’m fine, Joel.” You say, trying to step away but you’re caged between the dragon's large head against your stomach and Joel at your back.

“You’re not fine,” he says, moving your hair away from the deep gash. “Fuck, don’t move. We need to wrap this up.”

The dragon must be able to understand him, because she immediately turns her body to where the bags hang off her saddle. He gets the medical supplies and then pulls you gently over to sit on a rock. He stands behind you, tugging the back of your shirt so he can see the full extent of the damage.

“This might sting,” he says as he uncaps a bottle of antiseptic.

He drizzles a little bit on you and it feels like liquid fire spreading across your body. You bite hard on your lip to not scream, hands curling into fists. The dragon pushes herself flat to the ground and almost slithers up to you, resting her massive head on your lap, looking up at you with sad eyes.

“Why’d you take it?” He says, gentle hands beginning to wrap a bandage around the joint of your wing. You stretch it out as much as you can to make it easier for him, wincing at the sharp pinching sensation, Rem lets out a whine, similar to a little dog, at the sign of your pain.

You want to reach out to pet the dragon but fear stops you, “The egg?” you ask timidly.

“Mm-hmm,” he says behind you, looping the bandage around, the back of his hand grazes the underside of your wing. You hadn’t realized how sensitive that part of your body is and your nipples harden, eyes closing briefly at the sensation.

“We needed money,” you reply just above a whisper.

“Who’s we?”

“My family. I’m the only one with magic and wings, their survival falls on me. And there’s not a lot for us here.”

“Why don’t you all go somewhere else?” he asks, his hand brushing that sensitive spot again.

You snort a little, the dragon thinking it’s pain nuzzles into you more, you still don’t move to pet her. “Wingless Fae aren’t exactly welcome in many places, and as you just saw, those of us with wings are under attack.”

“Why?” he asks again as he ties the bandage in a knot.

“Our wings hold our magic.”

One of Joel's strong arms trails down yours, his chest pressed against your back. Sparks shoot across your body at his sudden and all consuming closeness. He smells like pine needles and fresh grass. His hand wraps around your wrist and he brings your hand to rest on the Remmer’s head, right between her glowing orange eyes.

“Just don’t stroke against her scales, she won’t like that.”

You take a shaky breath and stroke back towards the spiky crown of her head. Her spikes lay flat and she closes her eyes, a purring sound fills her chest and you smile over your shoulder at Joel.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask.

“Where we take all thieves.” He says.

The King.

“No, please. You can’t! He’ll do worse than cut off my wings!” You plead, Rem shoots her head up towards Joel, eyes flaring.

“Remmer, down.” Joel says warningly at the dragon. She doesn’t lower her head back to your lap, but you notice the orange in her eyes softens. He turns now to address you, “This is the way of your world, you knew that long before you took my egg.”

Rem huffs smoke at him when he says ‘my egg’.

“Apologies. When she took your egg.”

Remmer blinks at him, then back at you before resting her head back on your lap. You use both hands now to stroke along her scales. It's hard to believe that just mere hours ago you were terrified of her, but something about those males that attacked you has changed her presence around you.

Joel turns towards the wood he dropped earlier and starts building a fire. You swear you hear him say, “whose side are you on?” under his breath.

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