#the merchant x male reader

[silentwonderlocks]

Need A Hand Stranger? Pt. 2 - The Merchant x M!Reader

Part one

A/n: Wasn't planning on making another part but I got inspired~

Loud fast paced footsteps filled the empty hallways as you and the strange merchant known as Anthony raced against the clock to make it to his hidden boat. All hell's breaking loose above  the island, multiple explosions could be heard. Some of them were muffled, some sounding too close for comfort. Time wasn’t on their side, the earth was shaking violently making you almost lose your balance and trip. Thank whoever for the adrenaline pumping in your veins, it was the only keeping you afloat. 

Who the hell was this guy? He was up ahead of you just a few feet running, you thought the huge travel pack on his back would have slowed him down. Oh boy were you wrong, this man was not breaking a sweat. You didn’t have the comfort nor the time to think though, you needed to still make it out of this nightmare alive. The rusty ceiling above was crumbling with each explosive going off. You were going to need to have a hot, long shower when you returned home. 

“We’re almost there! Get ready to jump!” Anthony yelled out over the noises of destruction, his eyes glued to his path. 

What the hell was he talking about? You took a second to look past him and see that up ahead was a long wooden dock. You also noticed that you were now in a cavern which didn’t help you feel any safer.  It was in fairly good condition but it was rattling hard. Wood chips and pieces were flying with every second. At the end of the dock though, was the boat. It was standard size, big enough for two people and it had a modern engine. It’s the final stretch.

 Anthony was the first one jumping off the end of the dock and landing with ease into the boat. He wasted no time throwing his pack off somewhere unimportant at the moment, then began to start up the engine. You were still a few feet behind, inwardly panicking because you could feel the dock begin to give out from behind as you ran across. 

‘Please make it! I can’t die here!’ You screamed at yourself mentally, your muscles and body aching from the very recent surgery. The aftermath of it was starting to kick in, if you could just make it to the boat then you could pass out for all you cared. 

It took all of your energy and strength to jump off the end of the boat and it still wasn’t enough. 

Instead of landing inside of the boat like Anthony did, you ended up catching yourself on the side of the boat. You struggle to climb up and over the side inside, thankfully Anthony grabs you by the shoulder and jerks you on the floor. There isn’t a moment to thank him, as the boat suddenly jolts to life slicing through the water like a knife. At least you get a chance to catch your breath sitting up against the side. Anthony grunts as he keeps his focus on stirring clear for the falling rocks and debris. All you can do is watch the light at the end of the cavern getting closer and closer. 

“Hold on to something! It’s gonna be a rough ride out of here!” The merchant warns as he speeds up the boat, determined. This man is insane, you’re going to die tonight but you listen to his words while grabbing a hold of a rope intertwined in the side of the boat. You don’t focus on how the boat jerks from right to left, you don’t focus on how your clothes are soaked due to the water splashing, you don’t even focus on the light at the end. 

You focus on Anthony. You are in awe at how calm and collected he seems in this situtation, almost like he does dangerous tasks for a living. His fingerless gloved hands are tightly held on the wheel, his posture is tall and straight. Not like before when it had an arch due to the travel pack. A small gasp leaves your mouth as you notice, his eyes are not a normal color. They were pale blue with light orange irises, filled with determination. Just his eyes alone were so expressive, you didn’t need to see the rest of his face to tell what he was thinking or saying. He had unfinished business with someone so he couldn’t afford to die today. 

He seemed so… unlikely to anyone you’ve met. He held a mysterious aura around him, was Anthony even his real name? Why did he help you? This man could have easily let you die in that hellhole. You felt your heart sink into your stomach as more thoughts of doubt clouded over. Was he just like those infected freaks with the plaga?  No, you would have been dead by now if that was the case. Have you been dealt a worse hand than what you already had?

All thoughts were soon erased as the boat caught some air flying out of the cavern and hitting the water with a ferocity. Water splashed everywhere on the boat along with hitting you and Anthony if you both weren’t soaked already. The cavern itself collapsed behind the both of you sealing off the entrance for good. Once the boat was at a safe distance Anthony slowed down to watch the grand finale, you finally stood up with a wobble staring back at the island and, all its twisted glory. 

It didn’t take long for the last chain of explosives to go off throughout the land erasing everything that stood. You watched with sickly satisfaction as the whole cult was finally being put down, a nightmare you had endured for too long. The two of you watched in silence until black smoke engulfed the island, an indicator that everything was gone. The daylight felt you were reborn once more, cleansed of the sins of the past that occurred here. 

Anthony said nothing to the man beside him, he was too busy scanning the horizons looking for something or someone. He feels slight relief upon seeing in the far distance on a jet ski riding off home, is the duo Leon and Ashley. Looking to the skies only sours his mood since he sees a helicopter transporting someone he will meet soon. Anthony is distracted by his own thoughts that he nearly misses how you back away from him to the furthest part of the boat. He tilts his head at you confused, his eyes simmering orange which doesn’t comfort you. 

“What are you? I appreciate the help but you are not human. You’re also not one of those cultists freaks, who are you?”  You are surprised with how calm your voice is despite not liking your odds. Anthony also doesn’t fail to notice that you are reaching for something in your pocket so he raises his hands in surrender gesturing as he speaks. “I don’t owe you that information and I told you who i am, besides you never answered my question before. Who are you and why were you in that chair? I believe you own me since I saved your life and all. Heheh.” He counters with a raspy chuckle that sounds nice on your ears. Dammit, he was right though. You did owe him, he didn’t have to save you and now here he was blackmailing you for it.

You let out a tired and annoyed sigh, lowering your hand from grabbing your knife out. You took a seat on the floor again feeling a wave of exhaustion hit. “Do you want the short version or the long version?” “The short version, you look like you’re going to pass out if I make you talk for a while.” Anthony lowers his hands then rummages through his almost forgotten pack, pulling out a water bottle. He takes a few steps cautiously offering the bottle, you warily take it and inspect it. Sniffing it to see if anything was off. “I have no interest in harming you if that’s your worry.”

 Easy for him to say, but the need for water was calling after the recent ordeal so you don’t say anything but gulp down the water then toss the bottle back. “I used to be a part of this company called Umbrella where we wou-.” “I'm aware of Umbrella and their..experiments.” The merchant interrupts starting up the engine to finally head back to home. His tone of voice tells you that he’s scorned by just the name alone.  You scoff to yourself, of course he did. Things were starting to make slight sense now, perhaps he was an escaped experiment or another power hungry scientist. Either way you didn’t completely trust him. 

“Anyway..I got out of their claws a long time ago, and I was hired here with a colleague of mine..” You paused looking back at the island, a look of pity and despair on your face. “He didn’t make it out..” “..My condolences.” You nod to him in thanks. “We worked on the project that helped these people, the Los Iluminados paid us to advance on an old project of ours with the amber they found in the mines. It contains a fossil that was the missing piece that brought this nightmare to life.” You pause again expecting Anthony to speak but he just nods for you to continue keeping his gaze focused on the water.

“ Well..at some point, I didn’t care about the money anymore and neither did my colleague. We didn’t want to harm more people. The cult didn’t like that, infecting me and him.” You give yourself a pity laugh.

 “Probably were going to infect us from the start. They left us for dead or to become a part of the hive mind. That machine you saw me in was built to remove the parasite we awoke.” You further explained how the parasite attaches to a host’s nervous system. Also how the medical equipment on the only one of its kind on the island is now forever gone. Anthony just listens until he interrupts him once more. “Rest, you look like shit my friend.” “We are not friends.” Your reply before feeling the tug of sleep overcome you. So you give in to the blackness and sleep. 

[flos-obsessivus]

Greetings!

We hope this letter finds you in Jolly times, the brave men and women in the front decided to send some trinkets from our recent victories! (We hope they reach you and our darling Prince ;] )

However, our morale has not been entirely sturdy and we hope to hear how the festivities are going.

How is our darling Prince, Lilian doing? We know not of his condition nor if he has any plans with family and friends, would you be so kind as to share some stories to lighten the mood here in the freezing frontlines?

Lots of Love

- The Royal Knights

Greetings from the castle!

It's great to hear from you all, it has been a while hasn't it? And thank you for your gifts, we'll make sure to put it amongst the pile of gifts he has received. As always, he is loved by everyone here.

The festivities has been a huge success and the prince has enjoyed the 1 week celebration for the holidays. This time, the other staff were planning on making the celebration for the new years to be even longer, but his highness' advisor had to put a stop to it before it gets out of control.

During the holidays, the prince had been adamant on kissing the advisor under the mistletoe, even going as far as to ask us to lead them under one while he waits just out of sight. So far he hasn't been successful in that regard. The closest he has been was right after the holiday ball near the balcony, unfortunately he passed out in their arms a few inches from the advisers face.

Another thing, the prince has been giving gifts to the adviser since the 1st day of the winter month. He has seem to be taken by that song '12 days of Christmas' that has been popular recently, so his gifts followed the lyrics up until the last day. However, it still went on until the 25th, but we never knew what the gifts were past the original 12. The adviser has been secretive in opening the gifts, but they always seem to turn red before rushing off somewhere.

We asked the prince himself but all we get is a dreamy sigh and something about 'toys for the bedroom'. We did not know the adviser likes to play toys in their spare time.

Other than that, the holidays has been good and everyone seems to have a great time here. We of course, also bring gifts for everyone, we understand how cold it is in the frontlines so we have prepared thick blankets and proper cloaks for everyone to enjoy, the kitchen staff also prepared candies and other delicacies to bring in the holiday cheer.

May the Royal Knights prosper and may this holiday bring in joy to everyone!

Yours truly,

The Castle staff

[lemonsprite]

ʟᴇᴍᴏɴꜱᴘʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ^_^

Started: 07/09/23

Last updated: 10/28/24

Works:

ᴏᴄ’ꜱ

Avalon

Avalon- Introduction

Beau Tannen

Chiquito

ʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ 4

The Merchant x GN! Reader

An Irrefutable Offer- W.I.P

ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

Sebastian Sallow x Male! Reader

Fooling around

Ominis Gaunt x Male! Reader

Jealousy- W.I.P

ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɴɢꜱ/ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʙʙɪᴛ

Bilbo Baggins x Thorin Oakenshield

Yuletide Changes

A "Simple" Offer

Legolas x Gimli

Mahal’s Gift

ꜱᴛᴀ�� ᴡᴀʀꜱ

Cal Kestis x GN! Reader

Cal Kestis x Gn! Reader

Obiwan Kenobi x Male! Inquisitor! Reader

Opposite Sides- W.I.P

x- ᴍᴇɴ

Logan Howlett x GN! Reader

Need you back

ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀɴʟᴇʏ ᴘᴀʀᴀʙʟᴇ

Stanley x The Narrator

Stanley Parable Drabble

ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴜᴛʏ

Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN! Reader

The Sticker Situation

König x Male! Reader

Obsession- W.I.P

Phillip Graves x Male! Reader

Winter Nights- W.I.P

Caller ID- W.I.P (afab!reader)

Johnny “Soap” Mctavish

Drunk!Soap Headcanons

ʙᴀʟᴅᴜʀꜱ ɢᴀᴛᴇ ɪɪɪ

Halsin x gn! Reader

Fluff, Just Pure Fluff

Wishes

Pain and Scars

Old enough

Gale of Waterdeep x gn! Reader

Midnight

A Long Rest- W.I.P

Tripsitter Gale

Gale of Waterdeep x Astarion (bloodweave)

A New Beginning

ꜰɪɴᴀʟ ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱʏ xᴠ

Prompto Argentum x Noctis Caelum

Ever After

ʀᴀᴍʙᴏ

John Rambo x GN! Reader

Forget

ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ-ᴍᴀɴ

Peter Parker x Wade Wilson

Two birds

Spideypool! Headcanons

ɪɴᴅɪᴀɴᴀ ᴊᴏɴᴇꜱ

Indiana Jones x Male! Reader

Guilt

[teamred]

devilish

✩‌ merchant!qimir x acolyte!reader | smut | fluff | 2.5k

SUMMARY | you fall into bed with sweet, goofy qimir, expecting a tame tryst... but he's not as sweet as he seems in between the sheets.

WARNINGS | smut, dirty talk, breastplay, f*ngering, oral s*x (male receiving), breathplay (safe choking), praise kink (good girl!), piv s*x, unprotected s*x

RATING | explicit

NOTES | please leave some love in comments/tags or inbox if you liked this fic!!! thanks for those who were waiting for this fic <3

He’s going to kill me. 

The thought rings through your mind as you’re sitting in Qimir’s lap, lips intertwined with his. His hands grasp the back of your head and the side of your thigh, while yours tug on the nape of his neck and run through his perpetually messy hair. 

It’s screwed up that you’re thinking of the master you and Qimir share at a moment like this, but it’s impossible not to. 

If your master finds out you’re about to bed the guide he assigned to you, he may never let you see him again. A deeper fear gnaws at you; he might not only kill you for breaking some unspoken protocol, but also Qimir.  

But it’s worth the risk, one you’re both willing to take. 

Consequences be damned, because Qimir’s been undressing you with his eyes all night. 

The same sweet, goofy Qimir who always greets you with a lopsided grin, constantly annoys you about drinking enough water, and trips when he walks up the stairs or even flat ground.

But tonight’s circumstances were different. Both of you were dressed up formally to infiltrate a Senate Gala undercover. 

Him, working as a waiter, his signature disheveled hair temporarily tamed in a small bun and wearing a uniform that highlighted his broad shoulders you weren’t accustomed to. You, adorning a floor-length red halter dress that hugged your body in all the right places. 

The second he saw you step into the ballroom, he stammered into his ear-piece (“Wow, you look—wow.”). And when you blended in by grabbing a drink from his tray, his eyes could not help but roam your body. Your exposed shoulders, the expanse of your bare back, and the amount of leg showing with your high slit. 

After finishing your tasks for the night, you two stormed off in the Exile II to a nearby planet, seeking refuge at a run-down safehouse. What began as winding down with a few drinks soon morphed into spontaneous slow-dancing without any music.

You’ve always had a soft spot for him, and when he mustered the courage to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight, followed by the loaded question—if he could kiss you—you obviously said yes. 

Which led to this current beautiful scene being played out on this grungy, old couch. 

In his loosened button-up shirt, Qimir kisses so delicately, each movement and touch just as gentle, perfectly reflecting his personality. Frankly, you’re not expecting anything more than a pleasant evening with a coworker you've grown to adore. If he's spectacular in bed, that’s merely a bonus. 

As his lips leave yours and travel to the side of your neck, you arch into him while your hands bunch up the fabric of his shirt. He holds you close, lips never straying from your skin, and lowers you down onto the couch.

But then, your eyes drift up to the ceiling, and the weight of where you are and who owns this place hits you again, causing you to tense up. 

“Stop thinking about him,” Qimir murmurs against your neck, his hands kneading your waist. This elicits a low groan from you, pulling you back into the moment.

“But what if he—”

“He’ll never know,” he cuts in reassuringly. 

“And if he does?”

“He’ll be fine with this,” he insists, tone bordering frustration. 

“How do you know?” 

Drawing away from your neck, he gazes down at you with a hand braced on the couch’s armrest. His messy, yet gorgeous, hair nearly brushes against your face. When he palms your cheek, his eyes soften. 

“Just be with me for tonight. All of you. Don’t think about anything else besides you and me. Can you do that for me?” 

You glance up at him for a few beats, taking in his beauty, along with his saccharine pleading words. Then, with a small smile, you nod. 

Suddenly, like lightning cutting through a storm, a smirk replaces Qimir’s warmth.   

“Good girl,” he says, his voice now a lower, more seductive tone than you’re used to. You reflexively tighten at the praise.  

Swiftly, he unties your halter dress and pulls the fabric down, baring your breasts to the cool air. 

You gasp sharply as his mouth descends, capturing your nipple between his teeth, gently nipping before he swirls and darts his tongue against it. Your fingers tug at his hair, while his free hand kneads your other breast, his thumb strumming and teasing the hardened tip. 

Hovering over your body, he trails kisses along your skin, switching his attention from one breast to the other, ensuring every inch of your chest is teased and pleasured. 

Eventually, his hand slides down from your breast, the tips of his fingers grazing you in a slow, deliberate path until they find their way between your legs. 

Your breath becomes ragged and your eyes tremble as he drags two fingers over your thin underwear. 

“Fuck,” he chuckles, and you detect a cocky note to it, “you’re so wet for me already.” 

His cockiness, paired with the vulgar comment, makes you shiver. You involuntarily buck your hips in need; he continues to chuckle, clearly indulging his power over you and how weak you become by a mere touch. 

Qimir deftly pushes your panties to one side and plunges his digits into you. Your hands slip underneath his button-up shirt, fingers pressing into the smooth skin of his upper back and shoulders while your rising moans and needy whimpers fill the room. 

But he’s far from finished—he jacks his fingers straighter, angling them even deeper than before.

Your whimpers evolve into heavy groans and wails, your fingers practically leaving marks on him. If he was this good with just his fingers, you were dying to know what he could do with his cock. Despite the raw pleasure, he grounds you with the press of his forehead against yours.

For the cherry on top, his thumb rubs your clit in small circles, each stroke sending you closer to the edge. 

“Be a good girl and come for me.” 

And you obediently do so with the rolling of your eyes, the uncontrollable jolting of your hips, and the ceaseless panting of his own name into Qimir's lips. 

You take a second to come down from your high, but decide not to waste any time and pull away from underneath Qimir to shimmy out of your dress and panties, standing up and kicking them off beside the foot of the couch.

He sits relaxed on the couch now with a hand behind his head, watching you intently as you, now completely bare, drop to your knees in front of him. 

Your hands tremble in anticipation when you reach for his pants, evidently feeling his desire around the seams. Removing his pants and undergarment to his ankles, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his cock springing up against his shirt.

Said shirt is in the way, so Qimir unbuttons it fully and you become slack-jawed over his gorgeous abs, so awestruck that you can’t resist stroking them. 

You continue to touch his abs as you hold his length in your other hand, gifting him gradual, firm strokes. Qimir releases a soft moan, leaning his head back while one of his hands squeeze your shoulder tenderly. 

Finally, you take him into your mouth. On your knees, you worship him. Your tongue traces every inch of him and your lips and palm work together in tandem until his length is slick with your devotion. 

In this moment, you feel an unspoken, strong reverence for Qimir. You can’t explain why you feel this way, but you let your body speak for itself. Each motion you provide is a testament to how much you respect him—as if letting him fill your mouth completely, even occasionally hitting the back of your throat, will prove your admiration.

Although he watches your every move, in such moments such as when you take him fully, squeeze his length harder, or suck hard on his blunt head, his composure slips; he releases throaty groans and his eyes lose focus.

At one point, he warns you he’s close, and you retreat, not wanting the evening to end just yet. Decisively, he rids of his shirt, revealing the expanse of his upper body, and steps out of his other clothes. You ogle at his presence; the more you experience Qimir tonight, the more you realize just how little you know about him.  

Gently taking you by your wrist, Qimir guides you to bend forward in front of him on the couch. You’re surprised at this unexpected position from what you anticipated—a more traditional one like missionary—since it places him in control and leaves you vulnerable, with your face turned away from his. 

His hands grip your hips firmly, and he lines himself up behind you. He eases into you slowly, and you throw your head back when he’s fully inside. Once you’ve adjusted, his thrusts are slow and deep. You savor the feeling of him inside of you, gripping the couch for release with each penetration. 

He leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Do you feel me? Every inch of me?” 

You nod, breathless and overwhelmed.

“And do you like it?” 

“I do”—you gasp, throwing your head back at a sudden thrust—“I love it so much.” 

“Such a good girl…” Qimir presses a kiss at the nape of your neck. Just as you're about to lean into it, he’s already gone. 

He removes himself from your warmth, disappointment rising within you in the form of a pout, but he quickly turns you around. 

Qimir lays you on the couch again beneath him once more. As he re-enters you, you think about how the vulnerability of your previous position pales in comparison to this. Now, this position makes you feel even more exposed with how he pins you down with his tenacious gaze with each thrust into your pussy.

Then, intensity flickers in his eyes. His gaze sharpens, and you sense his desire for something more, particularly with how hard he grips your waist. 

“I’m–I’m going to place my hand around your neck,” he pants. “If it’s too much at any point, you double-tap me and I’ll stop. Do you understand?”

You nod, drowning in the pleasure, and you barely whisper, “I understand.” 

His fingers first trace the contours of your throat, barely touching it, almost as if he's giving you one last out to say no if you want. But you don't want to; your curiosity is piqued for this darker, dominant side of Qimir you've never seen before.

His hand wraps around your throat with a firm, yet controlled pressure. You can feel the tightness and the pulse of your own blood under his touch, but the sensation is exhilarating, never crossing into pain.

When you don't seem to mind the amount of pressure, Qimir pushes you further, strengthening his hold against the sides of your windpipes. You moan harder, your pussy clenching in tandem with the thrill.

“Remember to breathe,” he instructs. “Focus on how good I feel inside of you.”

Seeing this intense, commanding side of Qimir is addicting. You want more—no, you need more of him like this. Your eyes roll, feeling the rising tension in the pits of your abdomen.

Your gaze drifts to the point where you and he connect, captivated by the sight of his relentless thrusts. You watch the way his body moves against yours, each thrust pushing you closer and closer.

“Look at me as I fuck you,” he demands, his gaze unyielding the whole time. 

You struggle to keep your eyes locked on his, but you try your best to in order to avoid disappointing him. At this point, he's almost just as much of a mess as you: hair sticking to his perspired forehead, eyelids fluttering, teeth gritting hard as if he's holding himself back.

“Good girl. That’s my good”—he hesitates with an elongated moan—“my good girl.”

Pleasure seizes you both, and your faces contort in ecstasy. Jagged moans permeate the air as you come undone first, with Qimir following behind as he paints your stomach with thick, white streaks.

After the clean-up, you lie on the couch on your side, facing him. On the other hand, he’s facing the ceiling with a hand above his head, and you’re in disbelief over the fact that he hides such a toned and chiseled form underneath layers of clothes all the time. You take advantage of the moment and let your hands graze the planes of his chest.

“You’re a completely different person when sex is on the table,” you observe with a hint of awe. 

“Yeah?” He glances at you with a glimmer of a smirk. His voice seems huskier than usual, more seductive really. “Do you like that side of me?” 

“I do,” you admit shyly. 

His hand reaches out from beneath the sheet over your bodies, brushing against your thigh. “Wasn’t too much for you?” 

You shake your head. “Not at all.” 

“Do you…” He absentmindedly draws shapes on your skin. “Do you prefer that side of me over how I normally am?” 

You think about it for a second.

“No,” you say with confidence, reaching for him and tucking some of his loose hair behind his ear. “That was undoubtedly one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced, but I also like how you are with me every day. You respect me, you treat me well, and you make me laugh all the time; you’re one of the funniest guys I know.” 

“On that note”—he leans in to rub his nose against the top of your arm before placing a light kiss on the same area—“can you call me master when we have sex?” 

You immediately swat him on his chest and laugh. “Oh, my God!” 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he says, his pitch now returning to its normal state. “Unless…?” 

“If you’re really into it, I’ll consider it.” you tease, then look away. The mention of the word drags you back to reality. “What are we going to do about him?” 

“I told you already; he’s fine with it,” he says dismissively, waving a hand. It bothers you that he doesn’t seem to care, but then you squint and wonder…

“You say that as if he already knows.” 

He shrugs. “Maybe he does.” 

Your eyes widen as your suspicions seem to be true. “Did you tell him?!” 

“No,” he grunts, “but, I mean, he probably has the place bugged.”

“Oh, God…” You bury your face in one of your hands. “He’s not gonna be happy, especially if he heard everything. I do not look forward to training tomorrow.” 

“Like I said,” he takes one of your hands and presses a kiss onto the inside of your wrist, “he’ll be fine with it. I’m willing to bet on it.”

“You don’t know him like I do, Qimir! How do you know it’ll be okay?” 

“Trust me, all right?” He smiles and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead before pulling you into his arms—

“I just know.”  

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART ONE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, death (minor characters), bits of gore, 141 are mean pirates, kidnapping

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

The village was tranquil as you stepped through it, bare feet threading through the soft grass, hands wrapped around the handle of a woven basket. It was peaceful, as it always was, without the souls of townsfolk to burden you. They didn’t dare bother you with the witness of elders around, keeping any torment to themselves until nightfall when the small vendor shops had closed up for the evening and the old folk returned to their homes.

You basked in the warm summer rays that shined down on you as you walked past the various shops. Really, they were far from any real shops, only showcasing simple merchant carts with limited supply for the village to gather, but it was a small village, and everything you needed was for mere survival. You weren’t a greedy woman, and you were plenty grateful.

Stepping up to one of the merchants, you offered a polite smile to the older woman sitting behind it, bowing your head in greeting.

“Hello, Mary,” you addressed, and she perked up from where she stood, occupied with counting together the sum of coins she’d earned throughout the day. She reflected her own smile to you, standing a bit taller. A wrinkled hand lifted to brush strands of her gray hair that had blown astray in the light breeze, revealing her radiance.

“Afternoon, dove,” she greeted in return. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Just need a few more herbs, is all,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away from hers to pick around her cart. Mary always had plenty on hand, and usually snuck you a few extras when you weren’t looking.

“Ah, I see. Well, you know the routine, dove. Feel free to pick as many as you need,” she encouraged. You smiled graciously, collecting a small variety of herbs and plants to place in your basket.

It was a different decision every week, seeing as you often performed trial and error with them in the comfort of your home. Despite many in your village disagreeing with your efforts, you were attempting to learn more about medicines. The village was in desperate need of a proper healer, and a female one at that. The male in current practice was much too biased and reckless, though you were sure to get a mouthful if you were to express the concern.

So, you took it upon yourself. Living in the village rather than out on the mainland, it wasn’t a simple teaching. Resources and education were much more difficult to come by, and it wasn’t deemed necessary information for women to have. It was exactly the reason why you were seen as a bit of an enigmatic outcast to all – all except Mary, of course. Perhaps she simply pitied you.

“This will be all for me, Mary,” you declared, setting the basket on top of her cart. Reaching for the small pouch that rested comfortably on your hip, you dug through it, collecting a few bronze coins and setting them in the old woman’s frail hand.

Mary accepted, placing the coins in her own pouch and throwing you a kind smile. “You sure, dove? Nothing else I can do for you?”

“I’m sure,” you confirmed with a nod. “Still in the experimentation phase, I fear.”

“You’ll get there,” she assured, clasping one of your hands between both of hers and giving it an encouraging shake before releasing. “Perhaps I’ll come visit you one of these days. An old lady like myself could use a few tweaks.”

This elicited a light laugh from you, shaking your head as you grasped the basket. “You look as healthy as a babe, Mary. But yes, please do. You know my door is always open for you.”

The two of you said your sweet farewells before you set off down the grassy trail once again. You passed the other merchants, who didn’t welcome you with the same kindness Mary had, but didn’t scare you away with shrewdness either. It was a typical routine, at this point, for others to look down on you. A woman, unwilling to marry and bear children and instead, studying medicine. A true scandal, some might say.

The walk back to your home was done so without issue, but when your humble abode came into sight, tucked away on the farther side of the village for more private practice, the faces of recognizable men came into view. This was just as frequent as the judgeful side eyes you received, but much more inconvenient.

“Afternoon, dove,” one of the men greeted with a slimy smile, the nickname the village had given you slipping off of his tongue like rotted poison. Dove, a name of something so beautiful, given out of mere pettiness. You were free like a bird, yet you should’ve been confined to your cage. Something pretty to look at, but proving no use. “Never quite got back to me about my courtship.”

Right. You had ignored it on purpose. Though deemed as strange and grotesque by the townspeople, this particular man hadn’t quite gotten the hint. Lucius was his name, fitting, seeing as he was as close to the devil as they came. Conceited and boastful with no decency of leaving you be.

He was awfully determined in wanting to fix you, to make you the housewife everybody expected you to be, just like the other village women. It was common practice, seeing as women didn’t do much other than simply that. While some were quite content with that lifestyle, you sought out more. You didn’t want to be chained down to a simple man who had nothing but arrogance to offer, nor a man you weren’t in love with.

“Yes, that’s quite right,” you confirmed dryly, stepping up to your home. He blocked the doorway, barricading you from entering.

“It’s quite rude for a lady to reject,” he interjected, a devilish smile plastered on his face. You blinked up at him with a look of indifference. “I am only asking for an answer.”

“I believe I’ve told you no plenty of times,” you sighed, adjusting the basket on your hip. “I am simply not interested.”

He sucked his teeth together, glowering down at you from where he stood. It was clear he wasn’t pleased with the answer, but unfortunately for him, it was all he was going to get. You were solid with your decision, and god forbid you did change your mind on being a wife and mother, it would not be with him.

“Can’t change your mind at all, dove?” he asked in fake sweetness, reaching for your hand that wasn’t holding the basket. He took it in his grip, much too tight for your liking. “Perhaps I can help change it if you give me one night.”

You scowled at his underlying tone, pulling your hand from his grasp and resting it on the knob of your door. You pushed it open, stepping inside before turning to him. “Please do not humor me with such indications. I am not interested, nor will I change my mind.”

Abruptly closing the door on him, you settled inside of your home, breathing a low sigh of relief. You could hear his faint chuckles with the other men present, their footsteps soft against the grass as they took their leave. He never took things too far, such as forcing his way into your home or worse, forcing himself on you, but you feared that day may come the longer you rejected his advances.

You set your basket on your desk, slouching down in the old chair you’d spend days upon days occupied in. Your journal sat open with ink scattered on the pages in your scribbled handwriting, brief sketches drawn about of the varying herbs you worked tirelessly on. Above you, jars lined the shelves with fading labels, filled with makeshift medicines of all kinds.

With the village and its people now out of sight and out of mind, you resumed your studies with the fresh herbs, focusing on what your heart truly desired.

You don’t remember falling asleep. It had been hours of you with a pen in your hand, jotting down useful notes for your studies, and it was no surprise you had succumbed to exhaustion at the comfort of your desk. Your cot in the corner of the room was more a stranger than anything, but with the sight of moonlight still pouring in through your small windows, you debated on moving over to it so you could resume.

Standing from your desk, you rubbed the sleepiness crusting over your eyes, a yawn threatening to tug through your throat. Just as you began your short trek to your bed, a slight tinge of orange caught your eye, peeking in through your window. It was faint, barely knowledgeable.

Curiosity got the best of you, and through your hazy state, you tugged open the front door of your small cottage, daring to see what was outside. The orange grew brighter in view now that the door opening had allowed more light to pool in, and when you rubbed at your eyes once more, you recognized it as fire.

Fire, burning fiercely in the night, eating away at your village. The sounds of terrified screams and chaotic madness became abundantly clear when you stepped outside. It made your blood run cold. All hairs on your body stood straight in warning, beckoning you to return inside, to hide.

As much as you wanted to listen, the first thing to vacate your mind was Mary. In the brush of flames, you needed to know if she was alright, if she had gotten to safety before the angry fire had broken into her own home. Where most of the townsfolk treated you as a mere joke, Mary was the one who had given you kindness when needed.

Your feet moved in a rush to sprint towards the village, the grass damp from the midnight dew and sticking to your soles. The closer you came towards the heart of the village, the louder things grew. It was blood-curling, hearing booming voices bark various orders while others shouted in petrified fear. Mary’s house was on the other side of the village, and in an act of triumph, you aimed for it.

The heat of the flames became more apparent as you closed in on the town center. Townsfolk that you had grown with since a baby were in a frenzy, some bloodied, some weeping. They looked like they had gone through the pits of hell and crawled their way out, only to be inches away from being dragged back in again.

There was no explanation for why the men of your village were wearing the crimson color of fresh blood, or why some were laying in broken heaps on the ground. They were in agony, shrieking in deafening decibels. The healer in you wanted to stop everything you were doing to aid them, but the child in you wanted to reach Mary first.

You did what your heart wanted and ran for Mary.

Approaching her house, the flames had not yet approached. It wasn’t burned to ash, nor was it in shambles. Instead, one large man had Mary in their hold by each of her arms as she attempted to fight him off while another ransacked her home.

“Mary!” you shouted, helpless. The man’s head whipped in the direction of your voice, cruel eyes narrowing in on you. Mary joined him, fearful eyes catching yours.

The sight of the men was foreign to you, but you’d recognize heartless monsters such as them anywhere. They were mere stories shared between the village, often used to scare the children away from the sea for their own protection. The village was so small, nobody had ever worried about the stories happening to them.

Pirates. Cruel, greedy, malicious. Like dogs off a leash, bearing sharp teeth and frothing at the mouth. They raided innocent villages for their supply, leaving it in disarray once they got what they wanted. Sick bastards who deserved punishment, yet slipped away in the roaring waves of the sea before it could be handed to them.

“Let go of her,” you pleaded with the pirate, hands clasped together. You knew you couldn’t fight him off, even if you tried. Mary was just as powerless as you, and old age was starting to catch up to her. She was fragile, and with the way he was handling her, you feared she’d get harmed.

The mysterious pirate continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression. He grunted in annoyance, loosening his grip on Mary but not quite releasing. It did nothing to comfort you, and that feeling grew tenfold when the other pirate stepped out of Mary’s home, locking in on you.

“Grab tha’ one, will ye, Gaz?” the one holding Mary huffed, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. The other, Gaz, nodded in return, sauntering up to you like death on wheels. You needed to run, to escape, but he was too quick. Before you knew it, Gaz’s arms had wrapped around your waist, hauling you over his shoulder like a doll.

Flailing in his embrace did nothing. His grip was firm, arm locked on to you impossibly tight, and the punches you threw to his back seemed almost comical to him.

“Find anythin’?” the other asked Gaz. Gaz shook his head, releasing a frustrated exhale.

As chaos ensued around you, the two men began dragging you and Mary along towards the heart of the village where you were moments ago. Gaz’s grip loosened on you, before he dropped you to the damp ground carelessly. You landed with a huff, soreness soaring through your back.

Looking around, you realized that many of the townsfolk were in the same condition. Lined up besides one another, pleading for their lives, weeping with ugly snot running from their noses. Mary was beside you, shaken but unharmed from the looks of it. She stared at you with heart wrenching fright, and you wished you could’ve told her things would be okay.

But they weren’t. The village was set ablaze, its people lined up like prisoners with a group of pirates looming over them like reapers prepared for death. The peace from this afternoon had vanished, and there would be no return. Things would be forever different, if they spared your lives.

Gaz and the other pirate stood side by side as they looked over the townsfolk. Another was beside them, face distorted by a ghastly mask that resembled a skull. It sent shivers down your spine. It was as if you truly were looking death in the eye.

A fourth pirate stepped forward, eyes that should’ve been considered kind instead staring down every last villager with heated observation. He was silent as he paced slowly, hands behind his back, the fire casting a doomful glow upon his face.

“My name is Captain Price,” he introduced. His voice was booming with authority. “If you do not wish to aid us, then we do not wish to aid you. The choice is yours.”

Sweat beaded your hairline from both the flames of fire scorching around you, and the anxiety that spiked inside of you. Your eyes locked in on the Captain, watching his every movement, noting the way he stood tall and proud, showcasing the true power he held. The villagers and you were helpless against him and his crew, and he was ensuring that it was obvious.

“We seek a medic. If you cannot provide that to us, then you are of no use to me,” he explained, pausing his pacing. He took in the sight of every grim face. Once he landed on you, you shivered, looking away in a panic. “I will ask you once. Who is your medic?”

Deafening silence filled the air apart from the flickering flames that threatened to consume us whole. Nobody dared to speak a word, nor did they look away from Price. It was as if time had stopped and everybody froze.

Price sniffed, glancing around the villagers. Though he seemed collected in his behavior, you could recognize the impatience from the way his lip twitched and his shoulders tensed.

“The Captain asked you lot a question,” Gaz sneered in defense. Price spared him a glance before returning focus. Still, nobody spoke for the next few moments.

It wasn’t until Price’s hand drifted to his waist, hand coming to rest on a handgun that the air shifted into one of unease. The sight of it made you sick to the stomach. Handguns were a specialty only the wealthy or military could acquire. They were rare and expensive, a luxury to some, but deadly. One click, and your soul was taken right from your body.

Price grasped the handgun, holding it in his hand as if it were a toy. He stepped up to the line of villagers, peering down at them like useless pigs. The sight of the gun had women quivering in fear, tears streaming down their rosy cheeks. The men were men no more, stripped away of their masculinity and replaced with little boys, unable to protect their kin and fulfill their duty as defenders.

The gun was raised, threat building with every inch. The barrel pointed right at the horror-stricken face of the very man who intruded on your home earlier – Lucius. Gone was the cocky mockery of a man, replaced with a whimpering boy who feared death just as much as another. He was shaking, shoulders slouched in attempts to appear small.

“We will try this again,” Price demanded. The cold barrel pressed to the temple of Lucius’ head and you could do nothing but sit and watch, unsure of what to feel. Sure, he kept a sour taste in your mouth simply from being. But to wish death on him for being a hindrance was distasteful. “Who is your medic?”

Lucius wouldn’t possibly rat you out. He was a selfish man who took what he wanted, but surely, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t that cruel.

The coward’s shaky hand lifted to point in your direction. It felt as if he were throwing a sharp dagger at you, the way he exposed the occupation you’d been so meticulously working hard towards.

Eyes shifted towards you, sending an ice cold burst through your veins. They were prodding, dissecting you from head to toe as if you were an experiment for them to test on. It was unsettling, sinking your heart down to the pits of your stomach.

“You’re the medic?” Price questioned. He hadn’t lowered his weapon, keeping it firm against Lucius’ skull, but his attention had shifted to you. His eyes weren’t warm and kind like they were shaped out to be, but rather cold, glossed over with hardened hostility.

“I–” You swallowed. “I am merely a medic in practice. I am not a professional, I do not know proper teachings–”

“Ghost,” he interrupted, whipping his head to look at the masked man. Ghost was a brute of a man, a shadow that would’ve been consumed by the night if not for the illuminating glow coming from the village in flames. “Take her so she can gather her things. She’s coming with us.”

Dread struck you right to the core. You wanted to beg for them to leave you be, to explain that you weren’t what they wanted. You didn’t want to be stripped from your home and tossed onto a ship with no clue of where your next destination was. These men were dangerous, seeping pure rancor and poisoning the very ground you laid on. Leaving with them was a death sentence.

Ghost said nothing, and even if he did, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it from the subtle weeping from villagers beside you. His strides were long as he approached you, and without warning, his rough hand grasped your elbow, hauling you to your feet. The force startled you, throwing you off balance but his grip was tight enough to keep you grounded.

As you were dragged away towards the direction of your home, you could hear an uproar of cries. Terror struck the village once more and you could do nothing but accept fate for what it was. You wanted to turn your head to see what was becoming of your people, but you were scared. Scared of what you may see, scared of what Ghost will do if you look.

You kept your gaze forward, legs moving quickly to match the heavy pace of Ghost, guiding the lion into your den.

Arriving at your home, you were hit with the realization that it would be the last time entering it. Your hard work would vanish, the space you made into your security blanket would be destroyed, burned to ash once the flames settled. It tore your heart to bits.

“Hurry up,” Ghost gruffed, his voice gravelly and hoarse. Just like Price, it was assertive, leaving no room for discussion.

You made haste to pack your essentials into a flimsy satchel. It wouldn’t be able to fit much, and you could only pray they would at least provide you with bare necessities on your voyage to hell. In your satchel went your journal, the cluttered jars of experimental medicines, your favorite quill, and a daring change of clothes. If Ghost thought you to remain alive long enough to have the opportunity to redress, he didn’t express it.

“That all?” he huffed, and when you nodded, he seized your arm again. “Let’s go.”

The sight of your home became a distant memory the farther you went from it. Already your body was pleading to go back, to curl up in bed and pretend that all of this was a sick dream. You regretted not making your cot of more use, sleeping in that damned wooden chair instead.

By the time you arrived back at the town center, it was like witnessing purgatory itself. Bloodshed with the bodies of your people laid across the ground like animals tossed aside. Useless and unworthy, that was how these pirates treated them. Though your people had never been kind to you, this was a fate you would never have wished upon them.

Their faces were unrecognizable as you took them in. Some burned, some beaten so bloody their faces had swelled into ugly monsters, some slain. The sight of the deceased made you want to vomit, bile piling in your throat and threatening to expel out.

Your eyes frantically searched for Mary, aching to know if they had given her mercy. She was a frail woman, withering with her age. She was innocent.

You couldn’t find her familiar face, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or dreadful.

The three other pirates were standing around one another. They were unphased by the actions they had bestowed upon the village, as if it was another simple day. It unnerved you, rattling your bones with burrowing fear. When they noticed the return of you and their crewmate, they wasted no time in guiding you off to the small port in which their ship had been docked.

It was large, wood tainted with brown so dark it could’ve been black. It blended in with the abyss of the sea, which you realized was entirely the point. Unnoticed and concealed.

Ghost didn’t let go of you as he helped you on to the ship, nor did he release once your bare feet connected with the wood. It was just as restricting as before, causing a light pulse to form in your bicep where he held you.

“Take her to the chambers until we figure out the next step,” Price ordered Ghost, nodding his head in the direction of raggedy doors. You could only imagine what lies behind them, waiting for you.

Ghost grunted in response, tugging you with him and having you stumble on your own two feet. The wood was rough and sharp on your soles, slicing tiny splinters into your skin. Shoes weren’t needed in your village unless it was winter, and even then, the grass was always enough to consume them in warmth. Now, you were regretting not owning a pair.

“In you go,” Ghost uttered once he had the door pulled open, shoving you down a small flight of stairs towards the lower section of the ship. It was dingy and unlit, the only light seeping in being the moonlight from a tiny window.

Once inside, you recognized your new home as a cell. Barred and caged in, being tossed inside carelessly. There was nothing but a cot and a bucket to relieve yourself. It was completely empty and void of comfort.

Ghost shut the cell door, locking it with an annoyed grunt. You hadn’t even noticed him pull out the set of keys to open it for you, nor had you noticed when he locked you in. You watched as he thrusted the keys in his back pocket, the only evidence of its presence being the small glint of metal from the moon’s light.

“Wait!” you cried out when he turned to leave. You scrambled on the cell floor, hands wrapping around the cold bars. He paused his walk, throwing you a look of disinterest. “You can’t just leave me in here!”

Ghost snorted in what you dared to say amusement. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, princess. You’ll be of use soon enough.”

Ignoring your pleas, he stepped up the stairs and returned to the main deck, shutting the door and leaving you utterly alone. Silence filled the air apart from the calming waves of the sea, though it did nothing to soothe you. You were helpless, deprived of any form of escape.

You spent what felt like hours on the floor of your cell, weeping into your own hands, silently praying to a God to release you. When nobody came to your rescue, you knew it was far too late for a miracle. This would be your new life, your new home, for as long as they kept you alive.

Part of you wished they would’ve just killed you instead.

[betterthanyalls]

hi!

can i request for a hermes x gn!reader x odysseus? :)

i was thinking that maybe reader is already a friend of odysseus, like a childhood friend maybe or a neighbor/citizen of his kingdom and has known him for years

reader liked ody but ody already has penelope so they arent flirting anymore but when hermes shows up and starts taking readers attention for himself that's when ody starts to get a little jealous maybe? aaa sorry it has been a while since ive requested anything - i hope its not too specific ;v;

i just thought it would be fun to see witty banter battles and playful snark ^^"

I have spent my entire day throughout school and home to work on this so i am very sorry for any mistakes or if its bad, i was speed running before i eepy, also i tried to make reader x odysseus more platonic cus he got penelope yk? ALSO NGL THIS WAS VERY FUN TO WRITE HEHEHEH

Masterlist

Divine Intervention

Hermes x GN!Reader x Odysseus [p]

EPIC: The Musical ~ Oneshot ~ Fluff

Words: 2.1K

Published: 11-5-2024

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A gentle puff of air blew through the vacant meadow, flowers brushing each other in a picturesque view. Within the center of the field, two souls lied together, laughing and gazing at the clouds with imagination. 

“That one reminds me of Argos,” Odysseus pointed up to a running puff of white above that loosely resembled said dog. “Oh, I see it!” Penelope grinned, her smile shining brighter than Helios. A short distance away, under the shade of a tree, sat the best friend of the couple. With their backs against the tree, Y/n watched on emotionlessly. Their mind felt blank; witnessing the source of their love showing admiration to somebody else delivered a new type of pain to their chest. Y/n felt lost. Would they never be the first choice? Odysseus had known them for the entirety of both their lives, but the moment he met Penelope, he forgot all about Y/n. He was head over heels, claiming he’d marry the princess before he turned twenty. Sure, they stayed friends, but that wasn’t enough for Y/n though they’d never admit it. Y/n couldn’t even blame Odysseus. Penelope looked like a goddess sent from Olympus. Anyone could mistake her for a divine being. 

With a silent sigh, Y/n prepared to push themself to their feet and take their leave. But a new presence stopped them from rising up. Looking to their left side, Y/n saw another figure sitting beside them. “Wow, really the third wheel, huh?” A cheery voice sounded from his mouth.

“Who are you?” Y/n asked, like any sane person would. “You mean you don’t recognize me? Your friend Ody would if you asked him,” the individual turned to face Y/n, giving them a good view of his identity. A metal helmet sat atop his head, adorned by smaller, brown, speckled wings. A mischievous grin was placed on his lips, with the rest of his face remaining covered by a shadow. Y/n leaned back slightly so the sun could pierce the shade better, revealing more of the man. A chiton made of the finest silk hung loosely from his shoulders, stopping at his knees. The male sat casually criss-crossed, his back propped against the same tree. A scepter sat on the ground beside him, holding two golden snakes and two glistening wings, power radiating off the item. Another point of interest for Y/n’s eyes were the sandals on his feet. Not in a footfetish type of interest, but intrigue with the fact wings fluttered like no big deal off the heels. Just as Y/n was going to breathe out his name, the guest spoke first. “Indeed, it is I, Hermes. God of messengers, travelers, luck, gambling, borders, animal husbandry, thieves, wit, speed, language, trades, commerce, athletes, merchants-”

The god continued rambling proudly about each of his domains as Y/n’s awe slowly fell into a deadpan. “I know you,” they cut off his boasting, not truly caring if it was rude. Thankfully, instead of being offended, the god merely grinned. “So, Y/n, what are you doing out here? Away from the party?” Hermes had a teasing tone in his voice, gesturing to the two lovers ahead of them. Odysseus and Penelope had no knowledge of a god offering company to their closest friend. Y/n wanted to ask how he knew their name, but they figured it was some divine power thing.

“Ody wanted to spend time with Penelope, but he was too nervous to come alone. So he dragged me along. But I don’t want to intrude on their moment together,” Y/n shrugged, looking at their friends.

The mischief god watched the mortal for a moment before a plan formed in his mind. “Well, I can’t let such a beautiful soul be alone, now can I?” Y/n turned to face Hermes, an amused yet confused smile on their lips. “I’m sorry?” They inquired, not sure if they understood his words correctly. In response, Hermes stood up and held his hand out to help the mortal up too. “If they have their moment together, then allow me to give you a moment for us.” The god had a gentle smile, keeping his hand out for them to grab. Raising an eyebrow, Y/n hesitantly took his offer and grabbed his hand. He pulled them up to stand beside him.

“So, where are we going?” Y/n asked, looking into the forest behind them. Hermes just laughed in excitement.

“You’ll see!”

And before Y/n could utter another word, the god pulled them close and took off racing through the trees. The world whipped past them at lightning speed. Trees, rocks, roads, towns—everything went by in a flash until suddenly it all paused.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n stepped away from the god. Their legs felt like brittle wood, threatening to give out at a simple breeze. Once they caught their breath, the mortal looked around to see them in the center stands of the nearby sports. Athletes were in the midst of competition down below, and nobody seemed to question two people just appearing. Hermes sat down on a stone slab and patted for Y/n to sit beside him. Doing so, the god offered them some grapes he may or may not have stolen from other mortals. “Did you choose this event just because you’re the god of athletes?” Y/n questioned  with a small laugh, taking a grape to eat and watching the sports continue. Hermes responded with his own laugh, beaming at the person beside him. “Would you leave if I said yes?” Y/n pretended to think for a moment before turning to face him with a hum. “No, but you better make this worth it,” they chuckled playfully, popping another grape to their mouth. ~~~~~ Hermes did truly make it worth it. So worth it that the two began going on adventures every day. From splashing around in rivers to exploring dark caves, the mortal and god’s friendship grew each day.

Anytime Y/n questioned themself in a mirror, Hermes would somehow maifest behind them to compliment their looks before going back to whatever job he had that day. “Dahling, you look gorgeous—beyond stunning, truly.” Was heard more than once

They would even find gifts sometimes, usually always stolen, waiting in their bedroom.

~~~~~

Currently, Y/n and the king of Ithaca were sitting in his bedroom, just talking like old friends. “So, you’ve been disappearing randomly only to come back in one state or another. Not to mention, you’ve been much more upbeat lately. What’s going on?” Odysseus interrogated with a grin. Y/n stayed quiet for a moment. Could they tell their lifelong friend about the new soul in their life? Odysseus had a raised brow, waiting for a response. “C’mon, you know you can tell me anything.” He offered with a calmer smile. Y/n’s expression softened, and they sighed, deciding to speak the truth. "I met someone,” they began, trying to form the correct words. Something in Odysseus’ eyes changed at this revelation. His posture stiffened just for a moment before returning to his previously relaxed state. “And who may this 'someone’ be?” The king continued, trying to get as much information as possible. With a quiet whisper, Y/n confessed. “Hermes...” Their lips held a bashful smile as they looked away from their friends' eyes. The friend in question paused, blinking slowly to process the information. “Hermes?! The god?!” He exclaimed with an open jaw. Y/n quickly shushed him, shoving their hands in his face. “Sh sh sh! Shut up! Not so loud,” they hissed, taking their hands away carefully once Odysseus nodded in agreement. “You know Hermes?” He continued to quiz. “Don’t you?” Y/n raised an eyebrow, thinking back to the first conversation with the god. Hermes said that Odysseus would know who he was.

“Well, yeah, I do. But I didn’t think you would too,” he tried to reason, although his point fell flat. “You don’t think a lot,” they retorted. Before Odysseus could try to fire back, a sudden breeze blew in from the open balcony. Looking over, a certain god stood against the stone railing with a familiar grin. “If it isn’t my two favorite mortals! If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d say I was the center of this discussion,” Hermes laughed, waltzing into the room. He ruffled Odysseus’ hair playfully before taking a stand next to Y/n.

“Hermes.” Odysseus brought a hand up to fix his hair. The god just laughed again, wrapping an arm around Y/n’s shoulder to give them a side hug. The narrowing eyes of the soldier didn’t go unnoticed by Hermes, brightening his smile.

“Hey Hermes,” Y/n greeted warmly.

Odysseus didn’t enjoy seeing his best friend so cozied up with another person. Even if that other person was a god who saved his life multiple times and also his great-grandfather. An idea began forming in his mind to get rid of the situation. “Y/n, I think I remember seeing a show taking place in the city. You and I can go see it now before it finishes,” the king offered, casting a victorious grin to Hermes as Y/n gave their own smile. “That sounds cool! Yeah, we can go!” Y/n moved away from Hermes' hug as the two mortals took their leave. Once they left, Hermes frowned and took his own leave back to his previous tasks for Olympus. ~~~~~ It didn’t take long for a secret war to begin. Every moment, Y/n was in between two opposing sides. They were either with Odysseus one day and Hermes the next, or they were sitting in between both males who kept trying to one-up each other, which would eventually end in arguments.

“I mean honestly, darling, why spend your time with such a brute when you could have someone as divine as I?” “BRUTE?!”

“Really, Y/n, he’s the god of lies. If anything, his words mean nothing compared to mine.” “Your entire reputation is a lie.” “Well, I guess it’s just you and me, Y/n—” “Oh, please. That’s more of a stress than a privilege.” “Did you hear something, dahling? Why, I can’t seem to hear anything below FIVE FEET.” “OH HOW MATURE—” “IT IS!!”

This took place almost daily, and it acted as peak entertainment for Y/n. ~~~~~ Today, unlike any other, Y/n and Odysseus sat quietly in a familiar meadow. However, the king was being unnaturally quiet. Turning to face their friend, Y/n spoke up.

“Ody, are you alright?” Concern was clear in their voice as they waited patiently. Odysseus didn’t make any notice of hearing their words for a minute before he finally answered.

“You’re replacing me.”

Those words caught Y/n off guard. Odysseus was looking at the grassy field around them rather than meeting his companions eyes.

“What? No, I’m not. What makes you say that?” They furrowed their eyebrows in worry, anxious for his reasoning.

“You spend more time with him,” he hissed, speaking of the god like venom on his tongue.

“Well, maybe, but-”

“BUT NOTHING! I’m supposed to be your best friend! Me! Not him. It’s us against the world; we agreed on that years ago.” Odysseus turned to Y/n with a deep frown, his eyes showing unease. He had been betrayed time and time again before; he couldn’t risk losing another friend.

Y/n stayed silent, stunned by his sudden outburst. Odysseus just looked back to the meadow, shame filling his soul. After a few moments, Y/n regained their bearings as sympathy and guilt covered their features.

“Ody,” they called softly, but he continued to look away. "Ody, look at me.”

Reluctantly, he looked over to his friend.

“Ody, I could never replace you. You are woven into my soul like a grapevine. Why do you think I would break our pact?” They spoke softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Odysseus sighed, looking back to the ground. He felt so stupid for assuming they would hurt him too.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled gently, looking at them out of the corner of his eyes.

“It’s alright; I would do the same if I were you. I forgive you,” Y/n smiled warmly to him, earning a hesitant smile back from him.

~~~~~

After this whole incident, Odysseus stopped arguing so much with Hermes. Sure, the mortal still gave the god a few half-hearted glares, but they eventually learned to share Y/n’s attention.

The trio sat calmly on the balcony of Odysseus’ room, waiting for Penelope to arrive for a nightly get-together. The sun sank slowly below the horizon, offering a charming glow to the city.

“So, darling, how’d you manage to get such a feral man to calm down?”

“FERAL?!”

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Audience Participation

Kinktober Day 8: Hypnotism

Three Yandere Vampire Men x Feminized Male Reader CW: Noncon, vampires, vampirism, biting, blood drinking, praise kink, mind control, hypnotism, feminization, polycule, public sex, exhibitionism, public masturbation, praise, oral sex, anal sex, death of a side character, kidnapping, general yandere behavior Word Count: 3.2k

(The EXTREMELY long awaited rewrite of audience participation is here. Not beta read so please forgive any mistakes. REALLY hope this gets a good reception! Don't forget to comment <3)

You were but the humble servant of the wealthiest merchant in your city, Rorik. And he did not accrue such wealth by being kind or generous to the lowly peasants that cleaned his shops or grew the produce that he sold. No, he got his fortune by exploiting the labor of the poor. With rampant poverty in the city it was very easy to do. You were exceedingly replaceable and you had nowhere else to go. When you weren't sweeping floors, stocking shelves, or tending to the fresh produce grown out back you were in the overstuffed shack where the other male employees were stuffed. Of course it wasn't free, Rorik charged each of you a large portion of your income for this "kindness". But there was nowhere else you could afford.

Poor living conditions and low pay were certainly not the end of the abuses you had to endure at the hands of your employer either. It was not at all uncommon for Rorik to fly off the handle and get physically violent towards whichever servant was nearest.

And if all that wasn't bad enough you only got one day off every other week.

Still... it was better than being homeless and mercilessly beaten by the town guards and not having even the smallest crumb of food...

It was one of your rare days off and there just so happened to be a traveling actor's troupe in the city for the week. You had heard their performance was pretty interesting, and best of all they were doing a free performance for nothing but tips today and tomorrow. It would be set up in the town square and anyone would be able to attend. You walked into the square and stood at the edge of the crowd that had already assembled. There was a raised platform so you would be able to see okay, though hearing every detail might be an issue, but that was your fault for sleeping in a bit.

Not long after you had arrived the actors stepped onto their stage and introduced themselves. There were three of them, all men. A large muscular man named Viktor who appeared to be in his forties. He seemed gruff and grizzled, not the type you would typically expect in the theatrical arts. In stark contrast to him there was a somewhat flamboyant skinny man named Oliver who seemed to be in his mid 20s with long red hair. And the third man had an average build and medium length black hair and seemed more cold compared to the other two and looked to be around the same age as Oliver, his name was Sebastian.

The first thing they performed were some small skits that the rest of the audience really enjoyed, they didn't get such a strong reaction out of you but you still liked them. After that as a warm up they did a short play, completely with cool fire effects. It was pretty impressive how only three people managed to play such a large array of characters. And even though they had appeared gruff and cold respectively Viktor and Sebastian were very convincing in each role they played. And the costumes were simply perfect.

It was hard not to imagine being in their shoes. Traveling from city to city, trying new foods, meeting new people, getting to pretend to be someone else, always having enough money. After a few moments of fantasizing, you shook yourself out of your silly pondering and focused on enjoying the performance.

Unbeknownst to you, while you were watching the play, one of the actors was watching you. Oliver. Something about you seemed familiar, as if he had known you all his life. You captivated him, perhaps it was the rags you wore in place of shoes or your tattered clothing that reminded him of his own humble beginnings. He could tell you were daydreaming about what your life would be like if you were like them. It was plain on your face. But you really didn't know how life would be with them. The thirst for blood, skulking the shadows for a quick feed, never being able to set down roots for fear of suspicion.

They were vampires.

And if what happened next had never happened you wouldn't have had to find that out.

As you were thoroughly enjoying the performance, and Oliver was equally enjoying your eyes on him, you were suddenly smacked hard in the head. It was Rorik. And he was even less happy than usual. You cupped your head and grunted in pain.

"Why the fuck are you slacking off here!? You cannot just take your day off when one of the other peasants is sick! Take off next month, if I even fucking let you after this!!"

The shouting had caused a scene and all eyes were on you as Rorik roughly grabbed you by the arm and dragged you away. Tears streamed down your face from a combination of pain, humiliation, and frustration. You couldn't even have one day, just one, to forget your troubles.

Seeing the abuse you suffered cemented Oliver's decision. The troupe would have soon moved on for another location, but because of his previous infatuation with you now combined with seeing you abused as he once was guaranteed that he had to do something. He was sure he could convince Seb and Viktor to go along with what needed to be done. If he couldn't he would just have to push onward and do it himself.

Rorik took you to the general store, the largest of his several establishments, and shoved you in the door before leaving in a huff. You donned the uniform that you kept in the back and began another relentless shift. When it finally ended you hobbled your way to the shared shack, sobbing silently on your way. All the while being watched by three sets of eyes in the darkness. When you got to what passed for your home you washed up and went to the lump of straw you used as a bed to let the sweet void of sleep take you.

Oliver wanted to be the one to fetch you, but he also had other... "preparations" to make. He wanted to get you a little gift that he was just sure you would love. So instead it was Sebastian who was sent to get you. His ability to put people under a trance was as good as Oliver's. But it had just never been Viktor's forte. After leaving your shitty shack you began to shamble off to your job but a handsome man with cold eyes bumped into you.

"Oh hey, sorry about that."

You were going to respond but upon meeting his gaze you found yourself unable to speak. Instead you just let him take your hand and lead you towards the town square and into the outfitted wagon they used as a mobile home. It contained many props and costumes and a long cushioned bench on each side to be used as beds while traveling. Sebastian sat you down and immediately began stripping you and applying makeup before Viktor swapped in and started dressing you up in a beautiful dress. Sebastian spoke.

"We are sorry about your situation."

He brushed your cheek gently before applying a bit of blush.

"We watched you a bit and we agreed. You're going to join us. We were a bit reluctant but... Ollie convinced us..."

You could hear and understand the words but were powerless to protest under his trance. You didn't even want to. The hypnotic spell you were under muted negative emotions, so you just smiled and nodded at the nice man.

"Oliver is going to literally squeal with how pretty you look."

You smiled dumbly at that, you weren't sure why. You were a man and men did not typically wear dresses but it was nice to be thought of as pretty.

Viktor chimed in.

"Heh, yeah, he always had a thing for princesses."

"She just needs her crown."

Sebastian placed a beautiful ruby and silver tiara on you. You were still confused why they were treating you like a lady, but not enough confusion to break the spell, you just accepted it instead. Viktor explained your role.

"Hey girlypop, you're going to be in our play and your part is the princess. Don't worry, you don't have any lines to memorize."

"Yeah, just be good and act scared of the vampire and then happy when the knights come to rescue you. You can do that for us, right?"

You just smiled and nodded slightly.

"I will be playing the vampire, Ollie and Seb will be the knights."

Now that you were adorned in your princess costume Viktor and Sebastian began getting dressed in theirs.

"Oh, Vik! You remembered to tell the guards today's show was adult only right?"

Under the trance your mind vaguely wondered what was so adult about the show, but you easily pushed the thought away.

"Of course."

When Oliver came back to the others, with a box that contained the gift he had gone to get for you, he was already in his outfit. Shining plate mail that really looked authentic.

"Oh wow! She looks just so perfect, I want to take her here!"

Viktor stopped him from practically pouncing on you.

"Not yet, it'll ruin the make up! Besides, the show is about to start..."

//////////////////////

For the most part the show was a normal affair. Though quite a bit longer than the shorter plays from the day before. It started with you playing the part of a quiet melancholic princess who's somber beauty attracted the eye of a vampire lord that wanted to add you to his manor. Everything went normally until the vampire had absconded with you.

The scene after that entailed the vampire fucking the princess. And he did just that, right in front of the audience. He hitched up your dress, slathered your hole in lube and took some time to stretch you out with a couple of fingers, and then slid his cock right up into you for everyone in the crowd to see. As you were instructed you acted scared of the vampire, some of your real confusion and fear bubbling up to the surface. The audience loved your "performance", they could almost believe that you were really being held against your will and ravaged by the big bad vampire. Many of them openly masturbated at the lewd display before them, jerking their cocks or slipping fingers into their cunts as you cried and struggled and pleaded for help, not knowing or caring that you weren't a willing participant.

Though you were frightened and disoriented you weren't completely under your own will and Viktor's cock also fit into you perfectly and you couldn't help but to begin whimpering in pleasure and arching your back in need, pressing your ass back against him with each of his thrusts into you. It didn't take very much of this for your cock to twitch as you came, and it didn't take him very long after to fill you with his seed. You were in a complete daze now, barely aware of what was going on.

After showing your leaking hole to the audience your knights in shining armor showed up to rescue you from the foul blood-sucker. Sebastian "slayed" him by "stabbing" him with his mighty "sword". He fucked Viktor's face hard, to much cheering by the audience.

Now the two valiant knights carried you away from his lair. Oliver was the first to speak to you.

"Fair princess, we have rescued you! Wouldn't you like to show us a token of your appreciation?"

He looked into your eyes and pulled you further into the hypnosis. You really believed you were a princess that had been saved by a violent monster. He kissed you passionately and you returned the gesture. He removed the bottom half of his costume and guided your head to his throbbing cock, the slight musk hitting your nose before you engulfed his entire length in your warm and eager mouth.

As you were bent over sucking Oliver, Sebastian lifted up your dress and slowly pressed his cock into you, using Viktor's left over load as lube. He said some cheesy line about the princess' royal hole being very tight. You weren't really paying much attention, you were more focused on the distracting sensation of Sebastian fucking into you as Oliver gently thrust in and out of your perfect wet mouth as you continued to suck his cock. Oliver felt as though he must be in heaven, he didn't last too terribly long. How could he possibly last while you looked up at him with your lips around his dick while he felt every little murmur and twitch of pleasure being caused by Sebastian?

Sebastian lasted longer since he had already fucked Viktor's face, you came before he did while Oliver praised you for taking it so well and peppered you with kisses. Your cock throbbed and dribbled semen as he did so. When Sebastian finally finished inside of you the "knights" cleaned you up and the play wrapped up with the implication that you'd be taken back to the castle and all was well. The audience clapped, those who weren't still one handed due to masturbating. 

The vampires took you back to their spacious wagon, they had you seated comfortably before Sebastian ended the spell he had you under.

"Wh-what the hell!? Why did I do all that stuff? Why am I here? How'd you make me do all that?"

You were understandably confused and disoriented. You had a somewhat fuzzy memory of everything they had you do. All the sex in the play. Having you here alone. Just what were they and what were they after? The door to the wagon was being blocked by the muscular one, Viktor. So you couldn't just run off. Oliver was excited to talk to you.

"We saved you! You were a damsel in distress so we heroically rescued you from that vile man! Now you can be treated like a proper princess~"

The weirdo kept talking as if you were a woman. It may have made you blush if you hadn't been so traumatized by what they did to you on stage. The whole town would know within hours. It was the most humiliating violation that you had ever endured.

"Y-you drugged me somehow! Or used witchcraft! You're disgusting rapists, just let me go!"

Oliver looked dejected. It looked like Sebastian was about to yell at you but Oliver started talking again. He held out a large box that was all wrapped up for you. He stuttered and stammered, in denial about the words you had for him.

"Y-you're just shy... maybe I should have taken things slower for such a reserved l-lady. I'm sorry. B-but you'll love us, okay? I promise! We will take good care of you, I even got you a gift to commemorate our new relationship..."

You took it and began unwrapping it, not really seeing any other option.

"I'm not a girl! Stop calling me th-"

You were shocked into silence when you saw what was in the box. The bloody decapitated head of Rorik... You reeled back in shock and rolled to the floor. Oliver looked at you like a proud pet cat that was presenting you with its kill. Viktor looked away at the scene and Sebastian had his face in his palm.

"You like it right? I punished him and made him hurt a bunch for you~ Y-you like me now right?"

Sebastian placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Ollie, I told you, most people don't like dead things as gifts... they like flowers and shit like that..."

Oliver sniffled and looked as if he might cry after considering Sebastian's words and seeing the terror on your face.

"Please just let me go, I promise not to tell anyone..." You barely managed to squeak the words out.

Oliver began crying at your insistence to be released while the other two ignored you and tried to cheer up their partner. Oliver grabbed you and pulled you into his lap while you struggled. His grip was like iron. He kept muttering something about being sorry and how he'd get you flowers and make you the happiest lady ever while nuzzling you. You were only getting ever more panicked so Sebastian calmed you down with another dose of hypnotism. It was strong enough to make you enjoy Oliver's touches and reciprocate by leaning into his chest.

"We... may have have messed up by having sex with her so soon... not everyone enjoys being on stage I guess... should have gone slower. Let's just keep them enthralled while she gets to know us! See Ollie? She already stopped struggling."

"Yeah Oliver, just give your little doll time to adjust. Moving in with her new boyfriends is a big step in a relationship. Once you turn her she'll probably be so grateful that she'll be obsessed with us!"

Oliver was convinced. He would just be patient. You could be turned by morning.

"Yeah, you'll love being a vampire! It isn't so fun not being able to stay in one place for very long, and of course blood takes some getting used to... but it's so much better than what you were dealing with and you have us with you too! You'll see we are your heroes and then we'll make love allllll day, it'll be amazing."

Vampires? That should have set alarm bells off in your head, but it didn't. Probably because you were "enthralled" as Sebastian mentioned. Vampires were considered very rare, is that really what they were...? As if on cue, Oliver sank his fangs into your neck. You flinched but then moaned softly. All Oliver had to do was drain you nearly to death then feed you some of his own blood. If he sired you it would give the two of you a special bond and you'd be much more likely to love him.

You clung to him as you faded into unconsciousness, he laid you down carefully and bit his wrist, he allowed a few drops of blood to drip into your mouth. To say he was excited would have been an understatement. He finally had a pretty girlfriend he could dress up like a living doll and bounce on his cock. And he sired you, so not only would you share a soul bond, but you would also still be susceptible to his hypnotism, should he ever need it.

If you ever resisted him he would just subtly change your outlook on things and overtime you would genuinely fall for all three of them. Oliver and Sebastian watched you rest as the vampirism took hold while Viktor went to the front of the wagon to begin the journey to the next town, you would never see your hometown again.

[acotarxreader]

The Sea's Call

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: You belonged to the sea in every and all sense of the statement. Pirating the seas was just who you were and you loved it, its where you belonged until a pesky Spymaster takes an interest in your activity, quickly finding himself captivated by you in more ways than one.

Warnings: Flirty back and forth, snark, angst, near drowning, seasickness, light smut, enemies to lovers to omg could this be mates!?!?!?!?!? Rough editing (its exam season yall)

A/N: Hello! For this to make sense lets pretend that Azriel was with Amren and Feyre when they went to get the Book of Breathings! hehe, okay sound good? good!

--------------------------------------------------

The feeling of solid ground beneath your boots was always a source of discomfort for you, a child of the sea would never feel at home on the solid soil of Prythian. Rarely did you leave the comfort of the ship you captained, only coming to shore for the more lucrative deals. Passing through Adriata, you felt yourself admiring the shimmering buildings, catching yourself in an instant and banishing away the thought. You practically counted the cobblestones back to the port, where a smaller sailboat would bring you back to your floating home. You passed a building that was in the process of being rebuilt, the whole city still practically on stilts after Amarantha’s reign of terror, the stories your crew told you enough to keep you awake at night. 

“Excuse me” A broad, winged male apologises as he gently bumps into your shoulder, your cloaked head unlifting from your course home as you pass. Never noticed, never seen, the main attribute that landed you at the helm of one of the most infamous ships at sea.

Through the crowded area before the final dock, tradespeople called from their port, customers eager to obtain the precious goods they brought from their travels. You quietly noted who sold what and for how much, marking their ship's colours in the back of your mind for later. You chuckled lightly to yourself at the plethora of unassuming fae, all ripe for the rip-off at the hands of these merchants, their financial gain ultimately trickling into your own. A sudden shudder shot up your spine as you found your feet instinctively taking you to shield yourself behind the canopy of one of the port side stalls. A large crowd of people stood in awe and fear as Tarquin transversed the crowd, a female in Night Court clothing on his arm with Cresseida and the Lord of Night following closely behind. You sneered at the sight of the foursome, playing Court to the crowds and clearly winning favour with all. 

“How am I going to pass by their giant egos?” You scoffed quietly to yourself for no one to hear. 

“I know the cape is a bit overkill on the Lord of Night Court’s part” You laughed lightly at the comment that came from the warm voice behind you, your movement then stilling completely. On the ball of your foot, you turned to face the wall-like male who you had passed earlier. Azriel raised an eyebrow to you, clearly feeling cocky he had caught you off guard, something that made you feel bare. Your eyes fell briefly on the Night Court emblem on his chest, its gleaming blue goldstone flickering in the unrelenting Summer sun. 

“Shouldn’t you be part of the other swans?” You asked boldly, your hood still slightly obscuring your full face, a smirk dashing for a moment across Azriel’s face. 

“Not my style, besides, who would keep an eye on the ones who normally avoid all observation?” 

“I know know what you’re implying sir” You did your best impression of the confused damsel, the type you were sure Azriel spent countless nights with before you turned away to head into the flowing crowd, the royal four now nearly at the exit of the port marketplace. Azriel caught hold of your wrist, the leather of his glove crinkling under the light pressure on your skin. You turned to watch him lift your own hand between you both, his eyes falling on the toughened skin before sweeping away your hood. Azriel swallowed what gasp rose in his throat, trying to stay with his feet on the shore as your marine blue eyes seemed to flicker back iridescence. 

“A seafarer?” He questioned gesturing with his head to your waterworn digits. 

“I dabbled briefly” You lied, taking your hand back from him and a step to put some distance between you. 

“What brings you to shore? You don’t seem to have a stall here? Or not one that I see that hasn’t recoiled on sight of you?” He quizzed, the mystery prickling along every nerve. 

“Maybe I’m a tough of a boss?” 

“I don’t doubt that somehow” he laughed as you fought to not show your offense. 

“I have no business with the Night Court right now, no cause for this line of questioning” You bristled, turning your back on the Illyrian and striding away, the end of the dock in sight. You thought of your contact waiting beneath the boardwalk, you unable to meet him with the Night Court’s Spymaster breathing down your neck. 

“Interesting how you said right now. What previous business had you with my cour?t” He called out to you, stopping you in your tracks. You balled your face into a knot, rookie rookie mistake you cursed yourself. The sound of the rising tide crashed beneath the tall boardwalk. Beneath the gnarly warped boards, you could make out the silhouette of your contact, gently swaying back and forth between the slats of the wood. The end of the unfenced dock now a mere metre away.

“I meant… I’m always open to business with all courts, perhaps we have business to agree to down the line” You lied again, the business you occupied yourself with would never be agreed to by any Court inner sanctum. 

“I somehow doubt the business you deal with would be in the interest of my Court unless it is to stop it?” Azriel’s voice danced the line between playful and arrogant ease similar to that of a cat with a cornered mouse. 

“I spoke out of line sir, I have nothing to offer anyone, I was simply shopping for wares for presents” You decided to change tacts entirely. 

“And the large bag of rare gems and crystals you have in your shoe, is that the payment for these invisible presents?” 

“How di-” You cut off your own question, Azriel’s eyes fully aligned with the thrill of the catch, he would have to try harder to catch you. You scoffed, your face changing from faux concerned cornered damsel to the hardened confidence in your ability that years of trade had given you. Your hands clasped together in front of you before you clapped slowly, the action seemingly catching the Illyrian off guard. 

“Nice catch, tell me is your outfit fully leather?” the question surprised Azriel, his eyes looking down briefly.

“Are you a fashion consultant now?” 

“No no, just making an observation, you seem so fond of those” You rocked back and forth on the balls of your feet, ever so softly inching your way to the edge of the dock. 

“And what observation is that?”

“Quite a heavy material when it's wet” Azriel didn’t have time to further question you before your foot slammed harshly down on the rotting board, Azriel narrowly but nimbly dodging the gap created by the crumbling plank, its reminisce crashing into the swirling tide 20 feet below. 

“Cute, any other party tricks?” Azriel straightened himself. 

“Just one” You saluted him with two fingers against your forehead before once again surprising the Illyrian and launching yourself backwards off the dock to freefall into the rushing wild tide below. Azriel ran to the edge of the dock, foamy white circles fizzed around your entry point into the water. The heel of Azriel’s ankle slipped from his boot as he prepared to follow you the moment you came up from the air. Except you didn’t. He waited and counted to at least 2 minutes before planting his foot back into the boot. Azriel looked out towards the growing swell in the ocean where he squinted to bring the very distant hazy grey outline. He couldn’t understand how you had made it so far, so fast, clearly at home in the crispy sea. 

“Azriel, if you’re gonna off yourself you have to at least warn me so I can get a jumpstart on the funeral speech” Rhysand laughed from behind the Spymaster, his voice making Azriel jump slightly, the sight of it confusing Rhysand. 

“Hey you okay?” Rhysand clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, ever so gently guiding his friend back from the edge of the dock. 

“Yeah I eh..” He couldn’t find the words.

“Oh Azzie I know that look, well keep it in your pants, we’re here to get the book and go, I’m sure you can find someone just as fun at home” Rhysand laughed, turning Azriel’s body away from the edge of the dock, guiding him back up the boardwalk. Azriel took one more quick glance, no longer able to make out your distant shadow. 

—--------------------------------------

Azriel cursed every moment of his life that led him to this one that he shared with Feyre and Amren. This was the Spymaster's ultimate nightmare as the floods of endless water crashed into the chamber room, Feyre seemingly having a psychotic breakdown while clinging to the Book of Breathings. Every nerve was screaming at Azriel to entirely freak out but watching Feyre struggle with whatever the Book was giving her kept his head between his shoulders. As quickly as the water flooded in, the pulling force wrapped around the friends and tugged. Feyre and Amren seemingly had a silent discussion that pulled the three through the smothering water. 

The first swallow of salty air was choked down by the three as the wraiths pulled them upward through the blasted door, the dehydrating water still keeping a tight hold on Azriel. Alarms blared in any and all directions as Rhysand clearly had his own trials during the retrieval of the book. Wraiths suddenly squabbled over Azriel, their sharp talon like nails clawing along his wings, his yelps drowned out by the waves. Swelling currents pulled and pulled as the wraiths clung to Amren out of fear and Feyre out of repayment of debt leaving Azriel to fend for himself against the violent washes of water. Azriel had felt all his energy sapped by the fight for air inside the chamber being challenged again by the pulling force of the water. Out of bloodshot eyes, he saw the wraiths successfully bring his friends to shore until he could no longer fight the fray and instead allowed it to sweep him out. 

—--------------

Azriel’s face was swollen in the colours of choking purple and blue as his lungs fought to cough up the swallowed seawater. He felt his bones sink into the water-swollen wood of the ship he found himself hauled up onto. The sound of his body being dragged along the wood rattled against the strong gusts of wind. 

“Well, who did you piss off this time?” You laughed down towards the greying Spymaster as he tried to blink you into focus. He could only groan in reply before you jerked your head to the side, the large males dragging him across the deck continued their course, tossing him into the bowels of the ship. A smaller fae quickly clasped heavy chains on him, energy stores still depleted from the fight with nature. 

Azriel couldn’t tell if it had been minutes, hours or days since he had arrived on board the next time he woke up. He took in the musty surroundings, unable to detect any other living creatures in the room with him.

“I told you leather was a heavy material when wet” You smirked from atop the beam above Azriel before jumping down to land in front of him. 

“Remind me to take the fashion advice next time” Azriel rasped out, his throat raw from the salt. You circled him briefly before retrieving a tray from a darkened corner of the room, the swells of the wave lifting and dropping the boat in a natural rhythm, it never throwing off your stride. You placed the tray down by his side as he squared off his hips to sit upright on the sodden wooden floor. 

“Drink” You half ordered, Azriel looking from the liquid lifeline to your eyes of equal colour. 

“To have you poison me?” he scoffed. 

“The salt in your system will do that work for me if you don’t drink” Azriel looked back down at the water, weighing up the options before deciding to take it with a heavy chained hand. The water tasted of pure light itself as you watched him carefully swallow it all while attempting not to drool yourself. Another swell hit the side of the ship, causing Azriel to fall to his side. 

“You’re going to want to find your sea legs soon Leathers if you want to be able to keep your lunch down” You laughed, removing a cloth from the tray to reveal a thick, nutritious stew. 

“Where are we going?” He managed, trying his best to keep his sickly grey cheeks from turning green. 

“We're chucking you out closer to home, a courtesy” you squatted down to his eye level, drawing his amber eyes into meet you. 

“Why?”

“What can I say, I don't love the drama it loves me” you laughed standing again, pushing the tray closer to him with your foot. 

“Real answer” the stew bubbled in the dish, punctuating Azriels words. 

“I fish a prize out of the ocean, I'm going to collect”

“Aw you think I'm a prize” Azriel batted his eyelashes in faux flirtation, righting himself. You squatted back down, catching his chin lightly and to his own surprise he allowed you. 

“No, but the High Lord of endless wealth does” you let him go with a jerk. 

“Now eat, we've a few stops to make” You left him to his thoughts. 

-

Azriel picked at the food, before falling in and out of a state of pure exhaustion, it had been at least 3 days since he was sent out to sea. He gave into the food after 72hrs of deciding whether or not it was poison until it's filling nature sent him to as comfortable sleep. Azriel woke to the feeling a cool liquid dripping down his wings.

“Don't touch me” he jerked his wings out of your reach, the cloth going slack in your hand. 

“Listen here Leathers, either the wounds are cleaned or you lose the wings” You bit, Azriel weighing up your words, the cuts the wraiths left fighting to heel under his diminished energy. 

“Fine, do it yourself” You wrung out the cloth before dropping it to his side.

“Why do you care?” The thought rattled around Azriels head for the hours you had left him in the dark, he had to try to find the answer. He reached for the cloth, dripping the liquid down what wounds he could reach under the constraints of the chain. 

“You're less valuable to me dead” You lied, trying your best to ignore the cuts he missed. You ran your tongue across your teeth, and Azriel took note of your inspection. 

“Seems you care an awful lot about someone you see only as monetary gain” he smirked, unable to hide how your interest made him feel. He then proceeded to miss the wounds on purpose until you finally snapped, whipping the cloth from hands. 

“Just let me!” You snapped harshly and then met his wing with surprising tenderness. Azriel watched you from the corner of his eye, afraid to blink and you'd disappear. 

“Damn wraiths” you whispered, the deep claw marks fighting against the healing solution. 

“The way you swim, I thought you might be one yourself” You met his eyes with a grin, the cloth slipping from your hand. 

“Don't belittle me like that Spymaster-” Azriels eyebrow raised again at your coy response “-yeah I knew the moment I met you who you were and how much it drives you crazy that you have no idea who I am”

“I'm piecing it together” he said softly, watching you trace your eyes over his wings. Veins of opal and midnight blue liquid leaked from your hand, flowing over the deeper marks and sealing the shut-on contact.

“And more pieces fall” Azriel said, watching in amazement. You brought a finger to your lip and whispered shh, a banging then coming from behind.

“Captain, we're here” a burly voice came from the door, you stood before they could see what you were doing. 

“Business to attend” You grinned down, wiping your hands on your trousers and leaving Azriel once again.

—------

The boat soon after began to rock again, Azriel still not finding comfort in the waves. He tried to map out mentally the course you had taken him and why his family had yet to appear and save him. He knew the importance of the Book of Breathings and its vitality in a successful mission but he thought he was equally as vital. The swells rocked the boat to almost vomit-inducing levels as it reached the peaking waves of the thick sea once again.

On the main deck you glided with ease, your whole crew used to wild seas and never wanting to change any part of them. A long day of scouting out treasures and seeking payment for your protection had you staring up at the ceiling of your cabin, contemplating it all. The rush of waves hitting the solid oak of the massive ship sent you to welcome sleep shortly, the whole ship falling into well-earned rest after a day of various activities. Hours later you woke with the feeling of a true unfamiliar sickness. You ran quickly to the private washroom adjacent to your room, your skin a sickly green colour, your body at the will of the ocean for the first time in centuries. 

“What the fuck?” you said to yourself before wrapping a cloak around you and heading to the deck. Stray waves washed over the rim, flooding the deck as your crew fought with the sails, waves almost as tall as them made an attempt to claim a prize. You raised a stray hand, deflecting the walls of water from any serious damage, still unable to fight off the full feeling of sea sickness. You were always one with the ocean, allowing it to reek it havoc but keeping it from toppling the ship. The boat rocked nearly level to its starboard side before you willed the water to keep the mast from tilting, your crew ever happy to have a master of the elements at the helm. 

“Just keep the fucking sails straight” You barked, your crew scrambling to obey as lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the flooding deck, your stomach doing somersaults to match the movement. You rushed from the wheel down the decks again before entering into the depths of the ship, shielded from the rain. 

“For fuck sake, drink this before I vomit” You fired a small vile at the green Illyrian who caught it through his disorientation. Azriel always hated being at sea, doing his best to avoid it during his training and having a stark reminder of why now that he found himself at the centre of a colossal storm.

Azriel’s eyes locked on you as he fiddled with the lid of the bottle, he no longer cared if it was poison, if it ended the hellish seascape he’d drink it happily. Your eyes rolled like the waves before you made short work of the distance separating you both and in quick movement you separated the blade strapped to your thigh from its holder, sinking it into a miniscule chink in one of the chains on Azriel’s arm. You quickly hauled him upwards, the movement rattling his head to accompany the severe seasickness as you hauled him over to the side of the room. With your bare hands, you pulled the small wooden sheet nailed to the wall down, revealing a porthole. In a swift motion, you whipped it open, pressing Azriel’s face out into the swirling sea air. 

“There! See that line, thats the horizon, stay on that!” You barked at him, the ravenous waves crashing up to meet Azriels face through the hole as sea spray. He rocked from foot to foot, allowing his weight to rest in your strength as he found the horizon, nearly boring holes in it with his eyes as he focused.

“Just focus on the centre of your world Azriel, focus” You tried more softly this time, his name from you striking some deep nerve he always neglected. He caught as much air as he could before turning to lock eyes on you, colour drained from his face. 

“Not on me, the horizon!” You snapped, catching the back of his head and forcing it forward again. The curling, twisting sensation in your stomach was quickly replaced by a different sinking sensation. 

“Okay, okay, I’m okay” Azriel called out, your pressure releasing slightly on him, allowing him to sink back to the floorboards, one arm still tethered to the bowels of the ship. You followed his lead, sliding down the wall of the ship to meet his side. He curled his knees into his chest like he did as a child and you found your thumb tracing small soothing circles on the back of his hand before realising. He scanned you in almost horror, panting deep breaths into his lungs.

“That vein in your head is gonna pop if you keep thinking that hard” You found yourself laughing breathlessly, thankful for the end of the illness you so rarely felt. 

“Do you make this many visits to prisoners normally?”

“I guess you’ll never know, maybe this is how I am with all my guests” You rolled your head against the wall to look at him.

“An interesting way to treat your guests” He jingled the chains.

“Chains make it more fun�� You whispered, the words rolling over his nerves like a wave at sea.

“More pieces, Captain” his rusty voice stopped your thoughts under his warm gaze.

“You’ll never have enough to understand”

“Oh yeah?” In one smooth movement, Azriel swerved his chained arm over his head, hooking it around your throat. He pulled until you found your back flush with his chest, his legs like vice grips around you from behind as you dug your nails into the betraying chain. 

“Chains make it more fun-” He whispered into the crook of your neck, the hairs on your neck standing on their end “- Now tell me how you knew I was sick down here?! Have you spelled me?” He ordered, rolling his hands into tighter fists around the chain, ensuring you were fully at the will of its biting metal jaws. He released enough pressure for a life-saving gasp of air you took hungrily. 

“The-the same way you-you knew how to find me on-on the dock. How did you see m-e that day?” You rasped, Azriel allowed more slack on the chain as he thought, the answer rolling off his tongue like a rogue wave. 

“How could I not?” he admitted in a whisper, the only sound filling the room. 

“Then that is my same answer to you” You thought of the ways you could overpower him at this moment, the simple ways you could will the sea to save you and yet you didn’t. You weren’t ready to end this moment and you weren’t fully sure why, well not in a way that you’d admit to yourself yet.

“I just-I felt someone need me, call to me without a voice… I just saw you through it all” he realised aloud.

“People don’t usually”

“I thought you were a Captain, or was that just a pet name?” his head tilted in question, “I’m no ones pet” More tension was released from the chain, enough for you to put your fingers between it and your marbled throat.

“I bet I could change that” his warm breath coated your ear, some force pulling him forward until the full slack was released from his chain, it clattering to the floor along its captivated wrist, his other hand tracing along your chest to gently catch your chin. You felt your back relax further into your chest until you instinctively fell to the side allowing the Spymaster the access to your neck he desperately craved. Fresh, electrifying bittersweet pain rattled through your body as Azriel sank his teeth into your tender flesh, his chained hand anchoring you to his chest by curling tightly around your abdomen. You released the air from your lungs that felt as though it had been held forever. Azriel’s hand left your obedient chin to trace down your body, landing at the fraying waistband of your favourite sleep shorts. His thumb traced beneath the band, his nail skirting along your skin, a shiver shooting up your spine. 

“Tell me your name” He whispered with tantalizing ease. 

“YN” You replied, not often telling those outside the inner sanctum. 

“The name I’ll thank the sky for and wish on every star to hear” His hand finally sank beneath the elastic, stroking small circles to coat your throat in soft moans you fought to keep hold of. You could feel him against your backside, feel how much he wanted this and you and yet you didn’t want him to know the same about you. 

“For you, only you” He groaned, pressing further into you as if hearing your thoughts, a rewarding groan this time unable to be stopped from leaving you. As quickly as he had trapped you, you turned, hooking a leg over his to press him back into the deck, straddling either side of his waist, his chained arm clanking against the wood. Your hand traced his cheek and he allowed himself to rest against your palm, his wings relaxing outwards, the wraith marks on show. You felt rage boil beneath the surface at the sight of their claim to what you felt was yours. You lowered down to his mouth, eyes swirling into his as he drank your energy in. 

“I’ll kill them for hurting you”

“And I’ll do the same to those who look at you in any unkindness, or look at you at all, unworthy of the pleasure” His free hand found the nape of your neck, magnetic forces guiding you down until a wash of the purest release met you both in one another's lips. Nirvana. Then unrelenting hunger. Your mouth parted slightly causing him to eagerly take the invitation, his tongue conducting teasing strokes that you happily match. Your hands clutch the material of his shirt, afraid to let go of him and the movement.

“Land!!!” An unwelcome shout came from far above where the two of you were deep in entanglement. The voice of your second mate pulled you back from Azriel, who tried his best to not whine at the movement. You quickly shot from his grasp, retucking your shirt and pulling your damp hair to one shoulder. You looked frantically at the broken chain before darting to cover the porthole again. 

“What-what just happened?” Azriel asked, doing his best to stand.

“We just reached your drop off” You left a sad smile paint your face as Azriel bolted towards you, his chain dragging.

“But we-I just- we just-”

“I know but they’ll be expecting you and my crew will be expecting the payout I promised them when we diverted course to fish you from the sea” You caught his knotted hands in yours, the marks of your years of hard work melting into his of deepest cruelty. 

“Run with me, come with me, just don’t leave me” he found himself begging.

“This is my world, that’s yours, I don't have land legs just like you definitely don’t have sea legs-” you laughed “-besides, I don’t think we’ll be welcomed in this Court after our capture of one of the favourite children” You joked, your hand tracing his cheek. 

“YN, I’ll tell them the truth, tell them how you saved me, how you will save me in so so many ways” A knock came at the end of Azriel’s plea, your sign to say goodbye. 

“I’m sorry Azriel, my crew are my family and I owe them what they deserve” you stepped back outside the range of what his remaining chain would allow. You reluctantly opened the door, towering males like those who dragged him aboard entered, your back facing him unable to look. Azriel wasn’t sure what happened yet, wasn’t even sure he cared. 

—------

“Is he dead?” Azriel heard Nesta through the screeching song of overhead seabirds. He rolled onto his back, the sharp sun scratching his retinas after a few days in the dark.

“Azriel!” His friends said in unison, helping him to sit up in the soft sand. 

“They didn’t drop you where they said, sorry it took so long to get to you” Feyre smiled, dusting the sand from his hair as Rhysand and Cassian scanned the horizon for any semblance of your ship, long long gone. 

—-----------------

The following weeks were rough for the whole Night Court, all unsure of their next moves to save their world from Hybern. Countless nights watching the bay allowed Azriel time to devise plans and hatch ideas. All paths lead to you more so than success against Hybern. 

That Starfall his family rejoiced in their full reunion, their first in 50 years and yet Azriel still felt a missing part of him, it cast out to sea. He watched Rhysand take Feyre by the hand up the stairs, a smile decorating his face at his brother's deserved happiness. His rusty coloured liquor reflected the moon, the party danced around him, the noise of it all not enough to drown out what he felt was a call he had to answer. 

Azriel landed on the shores of Velaris, the hidden home he’d die for, thinking about the hidden love he’d do the same for. An idea pinged into his head at the sight of Velaris residents releasing lanterns from passing canoes. 

Without full coherence, Azriel found himself rowing a small dingy of a boat out of the Velaris port. He dug deep against the slowly growing waves, the House Of Wind and it’s gleaming party lights in the growing distance. He rowed until he could no longer see his home over the crests of the waves before he stood on rattling legs and found the bow of the small boat. With one deep breath, Azriel swan dived into the crystal clear depths, allowing it to overwhelm him and pull him down. Cautiously, Azriel opened his eyes beneath the water, adjusting to he burn before swimming deeper. Lactic acid began to build in his muscles and beg him not to swim deeper into the pressure of the unforgiving water. Black blots inked across his vision as the darkening water began to overwhelm his system once again until right before blacking out an arm wrapped around him. 

“You have to be fucking kidding me” Was the first thing Azriel heard you say in weeks as you both breached the surface. He almost howled with laughter and exhilaration of his near-death experience and seeing you again. 

“I-I knew you’d come” he rasped out in giddy excitement. 

“Risky game Leathers” You laughed until he kissed you, the lapping water supporting you both. Overhead the sky began to fill with lights on their journey, reflecting off the water with pure light but in that moment Azriel knew that even the darkest night would be illuminated by you.

---------------------------------

Teehee Whatcha think?!

[livelaughlovesubs]

hello! I hope you write for Neuvillette! For the event, could I ask for fitting him with a collar and presenting him as a trophy? Thank you sm! <3

also please don’t stress yourself nini! Drink water, get proper rest, and make sure to take breaks! 🫶

(P.S, can I be 🍡 anon? If not that’s okay! ^v^)

Heee! Welcome 🍡 anon! Ofc our neuvi is okay :] and I looove the trophy prompt for some reason

Dom!reader x sub!neuvi - reader is gn

Warning: public humiliation, hair pulling, objectification, collaring

Anniversary event

A celebration in name of the new ruler of fontain has been organised. For the people to acknowledge him, to respect and worship him, and for him to come out as the one on top. It was a very important event, one that could be compared to the coronation of a new king. That’s why there’s a ball at the break of dawn, to showcase the authority of the chef justice - at least, that’s what was meant to happen.

The moment he entered the gigantic room - filled with people in fancy clothing chatting to their hearts content - every whisper disappeared, complete silence broke out under the sheer anticipation of meeting him. Many of them even held their breath, focusing on the only thing breaking the silence, the sound of footsteps. All eyes were on him, and on you, his escort. The music even stopped as the musicians couldn’t help but gawk. Though soon the smiles changed into shocked gasps, before quiet mumbling filled the atmosphere of the halls again.

You walked in front of Neuvillette, confidently, a big pleasant smile on your face. You had to show the world your chocolate side after all. Neuvi followed close behind, eyes as sharp as ever, not paying much attention to anyone other than you. His cold demeanour wasn’t anything new, but- he was wearing a collar.

Some were frowning at the sight, while others were still in pure disbelief. Your smile didn’t falter at their reaction, in contrary, you turned around and gestured with your hand for him to come closer. And so he did, obeying your command all obediently. Then you yanked on the very collar all the other guests were staring at, making him bend a little before you whispered, “they are all staring at you, feeling exited yet?”

Your little hydro dragon didn’t answer, he didn’t show much of a reaction other than the rosy blush that has begun tainting his cheeks. You sneered, a satisfied and proud look as you let go of him. A waiter came moments later, carrying a tray full with glasses of champagne. You took a glass out of curtesy, and sipped on it, then handed it to your sweet boytoy. He took it without questioning it.

It didn’t take long until the shock of the people died down, and the bolder ones dared to get closer, in hopes of building a relationship with the new ruler of fontain. A man approached you, trying to strike a conversation, “what a grandiose ball this is, fontain will be thriving in the future, all thanks to the chief justice.” The man in front of you said, smiling, a calculated expression. You recognised him, he was one of the rather big merchants.

“Indeed, I would expect no less from my most priced possession.” You chuckled as you cupped Neuvillette’s face with one hand, not breaking eye contact with the merchant. “You are proud to belong to me, ain’t I right, neuvi?” He didn’t answer you with words, instead, he nuzzled his face into your palm, finding comfort in the heat radiating through your glove. The merchant laughed uncomfortable, his facade failing him as he tried to not stare.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, you grabbed him by his hair and made him kneel down. He didn’t resist one bit, allowing you to manhandle him, shuddering at this humiliating act. “Neuvillette. When I ask you a question, what must you do?” Your voice became rougher, more demanding, and he gazed up at you from his sitting position. “…use my voice. Forgive me, I’ll do better next time.” The male said, almost whining, the blush darkened and he clenched the glass in his hands.

At this point, needless to say you were the center of attention. You, who can treat their new ‘archon’ like an object.

How scandalous it was… seeing him acting this shameless in public. The whispers only got louder, yet the two of you didn’t seem to care. As if both of you were in your own world. “Good boy.” Your gaze softened, now cupping his face with one hand, the other one caressing the dark blue collar around him. A prideful yet scary grin as you made a statement, “There’s a reason you are my prettiest trophy.”

[justblades]

⌕ WHAT THEY LIKE TO HEAR DURING HEATING SESSIONS, 18+

⟢ CHARACTERS : gepard, blade, jing yuan & luocha x gender neutral! reader

⟢ WARNINGS : EXPLICIT, MDNI.

GEPARD

— is too embarrassed to admit it but he bathes in rapture whenever he hears the sounds of skin slapping, squelching noises emitted from his cock meeting with your entrance and lastly, your jagged breathing becoming melting heavy sighs of pleasure. the mentioned noises meshing together play a perfect harmonious tune for his ears, gearing him towards climaxing, to the point that his face crumples everytime he thrusts faster with the help of his large fists on your hips. he becomes absent minded and thinks of nothing but quenching the thirst for his lust, immediately cumming inside you with no forewarnings, he's just that deep in. every sex ends with him apologizing and swearing he'll let you know next time, but him planting his seed inside you happened as naturally as he breathed.

BLADE

— thrives in having authority, control and reign over your body as well as your rationality. he likes to hear you beg and put into complete sentences what you want him to do to you, going as far as teasing his tip in your hole, to drain the remaining dignity inside you by no other than him. he's well aware that once you're completely riled up, there's no going back - one of the many instances he makes the most of hearing you plead. he would never give it to you unless you verbalize each step, naughty words spilling from your lips, embarrassment washing over yourself. otherwise if you fail to meet his expectations, he'll display that stoic expression of his not until you satisfy his ego's needs.

JING YUAN

— hearing your musings of praises about how he's so big, hot and thick whether you're sucking him, giving a hand job or inside your walls stimulate the general even more. the minute you fall silent as he jackhammers into your hole will be the minute he'll be aggressive, not until you describe what you're feeling from his movements in detail. phrases such as "i can feel you throbbing inside me" or "you're digging deeper" has him in a chokehold, moans bubble from his throat as long as he gets to hear how you feel good from his dick. jing yuan prioritizes your feelings before his and adores it when you give feedback. getting old is inevitable that he couldn't help but think he's become a boring person - however, your sweet nothings say otherwise, oftentimes complimenting the general.

LUOCHA

— it may not be patent for the merchant as he usually appears calm and composed at all times, but the superficial breaks whenever you two engage in sex, melting into putty whenever he asks you if only him can do you like this and you reply with an obedient "yes." his heartbeat picks up as more blood rush into the head of his cock, making his length resemble that of a curve, a true sign he's getting bigger and more aroused than ever. knowing that he's the only one who'll get to see your tantalizing and pathetic state turns him on, making him mess you up even more. "what should i do to you if you turn your back on me?" he queries, "give me a punishment that you see fit." the male goes nuts when you fully submit to him. reassuring that you'll stay by his side forever and never leave him merits you his sweet, melodic moans.

my masterlist !

[azrielbrainrot]

My Body Keeps Saying it's Yours

Pairing: Rhysand x Reader

Description: Some foolish males try to seduce you and Rhysand decides to show them who you belong to.

Warnings: Smut, Exhibitionism, Slight Dom/Sub dynamic, Abuse of power, Darker themes (not that much but just to be safe)

Word Count: 4304

Rating: 18+

Notes: This is just smut, couldn't get Rhys off my mind and this happened. Also I'm terrible with titles I'm so sorry. Enjoy!

You were making your way to your husband's office slowly. It wasn't that unusual for Rhys to ask you to come to his office in the middle of the day, you've shown up out of the blue so many times, for reasons as simple as finding a nice place for a nap or for a quickie on his desk, but something about the tone of his voice has you a bit nervous to find out what he's up to today.

Your suspicions are proven true when you open the door to find two males sitting on the sofa in the corner of his office, tied up in chains and, from the looks of it, under some sort of silencing spell, as they kept opening and closing their mouths to no avail, not being able to make a single sound. Their eyes were open wide in fear, almost begging you with their expression to help them.

You look back to your husband for an explanation but you find him sitting at his desk with a serene smile on his face, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. After a few moments of seeing you frozen in the middle of the office looking between the sofa and him, Rhys finally gets up, walking around his desk to stand in front of you.

“Welcome, my love.” He bends down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, still acting like this is a completely normal occurrence. At this proximity, you can, however, make out a glint in his violet eyes, one you know too well, one that promises trouble.

“What are they doing here, Rhys?” He merely keeps smiling down at you, running his thumb over your plush bottom lip. “What's going on?”

“I've never thought of myself as particularly lenient,” he starts with a sigh and traces a path down your jaw to the column of your throat, then wraps his hand fully around your neck, not pressing down, just holding you possessively, “but it seems some people still need to be reminded not to covet my things.” The new information has you frowning, looking back at the tied up males to try to make sense of it. “We're going to show them exactly who you belong to, darling.”

You remember now. These two males were invited to a banquet up in the House of Wind last weekend, just like so many of the more notable merchants in Velaris were. The economy in the city was thriving and Rhys thought it would be a good idea to celebrate the fae working hard to make that happen. The party lasted almost all night, which was to be expected in Velaris. Towards the end of the night, while Rhys followed through with his duties and entertained everyone in the room, you sneaked off to a quieter place for a moment to unwind. Azriel had sneaked off hours ago so you decided it was only fair that you got a break as well.

Unfortunately, two males, the ones present, had gotten too drunk or were just incredibly dumb and decided it was a good idea to try to seduce you, their High Lord's wife, in his own house. You tried not to cause a scene at the time, only slapping one of them and leaving Cassian to throw them out, but when you got back to the party, Rhys had immediately knocked at your mental walls to see what happened. You managed to convince him not to ruin the night for everyone and calm him down, showing him they hadn't actually done anything besides a few crude remarks.

Later that night, he had made it up to you, even apologizing for letting this happen. Of course you told him it wasn't his fault but you should have known your scheming High Lord wouldn't leave things at that. With a sigh you open your mind to him so hopefully he can show you what's going through his.

Do you trust me, darling? You'd be offended he even had to ask if you weren't so apprehensive about this situation. Every time you think you have a good read on his thoughts, he surprises you.

With anything. His answering smirk almost has you wishing to take the words back. He leans back against the edge of the desk, never breaking eye contact, and pulls you with him by your waist. Dropping a soft kiss to your lips, a kiss you know the meaning of too well. It's a reminder of sorts, of how much he loves you.

Your eyes move from his to the cowering males still tied up on the sofa. You have a feeling you know what he's about to do, what he wants to show them but you've never had an audience before. You can't help the anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

Do you want me to stop? You bite your lip and look back at him. You've never really thought about the possibility of anyone watching you in such a compromising position, but you don't think you're opposed to it at all. They won't do anything more than watch and you know Rhys will fix this if it all goes wrong anyway, one way or another.

No.

The look on his face as he leans down to kiss you again should be illegal, satisfaction and anticipation glowing beautifully on his features. This time there's nothing chaste about the kiss, it's nothing short of passionate. He's unhurried in his movements, letting himself taste you properly. I need you to be good for me now.

Breaking away from the consuming kiss, Rhys pushes you off him carefully to pick up one of the chairs by his desk. He carries it to the middle of the room and sets it back down so the confused males have a great view of it, sitting on it with spread legs, like a king on his throne.

He looks over to where you're standing and holds out a hand, you take it without hesitation, letting him guide you until you're standing in between his legs, with your back to them. You look down to his lap, taking notice of the bulge already waiting for you. He holds onto your waist to get your attention back on him.

“Take everything off first, my love.” You'd probably jump off the window to your left if he asked it in that tone of voice of his. You kick your shoes off first, slowly, while looking straight into his eyes. You know he has the power in this situation but you can't help but tease him at least a little, it'd be no fun if you just followed his every word blindly. He raises an eyebrow at the delay but he knows you too well, knows you don't really mean it.

The simple black dress drops to the floor soon after, leaving you only in your violet lacy panties. He seemed pleased at your choice, reaching out a hand to run his fingers over the hem of your undergarments. You thought he would be when you bought them, you just never imagined anyone else would see them. You suppose they help the point he's trying to make - a happy coincidence.

“I said everything.” You hook both your thumbs on each side of the panties and drag them down your legs slowly, making a show of bending down, letting your chest fall right into his line of sight. As you hear a gasp behind you, you remember they're also getting a show. The thought has you wanting to play into Rhys' idea even more, show them you'd never think of letting them touch you.

“Should I throw this at them?” You taunt as you dangle the piece of fabric from your index finger.

“No,” he reaches out for it and puts it in his pocket, “They don't get to smell how wet you are for me.” His words make you realize that you can't smell them at all, Rhys put up a shield between you. The possessive bastard.

“What will you have me do now, High Lord?” You know all too well exactly what he wants. Still, hearing him order you through it sounds delicious.

“On your knees, darling,” his smirk deepens when you obey immediately, “Take me out. Show them what you can do to me.”

You can see the imprint of his throbbing cock through his trousers. Not being able to resist playing with him a little you gather your hair to one side of your face and look up at him with doe eyes before leaning down to lick his erection through his pants, leaving an open mouthed kiss on the tip.

He hisses and grabs onto your hair, pulling your head away to look into your eyes. A warning. You try to fight your smile by biting your lip. You love when he gives you warnings.

Luckily for him, you can't wait to feel him in your mouth. You're also committed to showing the disrespectful males what they won't ever be deserving of. Reaching out for his trousers, you make quick work of the buttons holding them close. Pulling them and his underwear down enough to let his cock slap back to his stomach, looking painfully hard and absolutely delicious.

You grab onto it, feeling its familiar weight in your hand before wrapping your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around, tasting him. You pull back just to hear him growl and lick up a stripe up his length with a smile. Gods, he's going to wreck you tonight.

Taking him back into your mouth, you start taking as much of him as you can, getting lower with each bob of your head, sucking harder, tightening your hand at the base, just the way you know he likes. His hand tangles back in your hair, softer now. Almost petting your head and caressing your cheek tenderly as he watches you.

“Just like that,” he moans out, “Isn't she absolutely breathtaking?” His heavy lidded gaze moves from the exquisite view of your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock to the sorry excuses of males that dared to think they could take you from him. “Such a shame you won't ever get to feel her perfect mouth on you. Let me tell you, boys,” his gaze moves back to you, knowing the praise will get to your head, “It feels like heaven, hell and everything in between.”

You take him deeper in response, determined to get everything into your mouth. He rakes his fingers through your scalp and throws his head back in a breathless moan, letting himself get lost in the pleasure, forgetting the show momentarily. His hips start thrusting into your mouth, slowly at first to let you get adjusted but, when it's clear you can take it, he holds onto your hair tighter and takes over, fucking your throat with slow, deep thrusts.

You start to feel your arousal dripping down to your thighs. It seems you enjoy the spectators more than you thought you would, you don't remember the last time you were this wet without even being touched. Reaching a hand down your body, you gather some of your slick and bring it up, circling your clit in small motions, taking some of the edge off, moaning softly.

“Sucking my cock got you that needy?” He can try to tease you as much as he can but you can tell his voice is strained, he's getting close. Being watched is getting to him too, but it's the confirming moan you let out around his cock and whatever picture he finds in your open mind that has him moaning out your name and speeding up, uncaring of the slight choking noises erupting from you, cumming down your throat not long after.

He keeps thrusting into you slowly as he rides his orgasm out, mumbling mindless praise while stroking your head. After a few moments, he pulls you gently away from his sensitive cock and coos at you when you swallow the last bits of his cum without him even having to ask.

Rhys pulls you up and gives you a sloppy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. You wince slightly into his mouth as you take your likely bruised knees off the floor, moving up higher to sit across his lap so you can reach him better. Never breaking the passionate kiss, he starts caressing your sore knees, making you moan in contentment.

You're both lost in your own little world for a while, tasting and touching each other, but it seems like he remembered what you were there to do because he pulls away from you, smirking at the wrecked look on your face and the string of saliva connecting both your lips. You move back to suck his bottom lip into your mouth, licking the string connecting you away, drawing a breathless moan from his lips.

“We're being rude to our guests,” he says as he holds your hand up to his face, the still damp hand you had used to play with yourself before, and sucks the fingers into his mouth, moaning around them at your taste.

“You were the one who invited them.” As his tongue swirls around your digits, you can only think of the mind shattering pleasure he can bring you with that tongue. Your guests could keep watching or take a dive out the window for all you cared.

“And I promised them a show.” He takes your hand out of his mouth to speak and it brings a pout to your lips. It seems you won't get to feel his skilled mouth today. Later. You smile victoriously at the reassurance. So spoiled. That's your fault.

He smiles fondly at you before turning you around in his lap, leaning you back into his chest and spreading your legs over his, making you face said guests. Your eyes widen a bit at what you see, you hadn't looked their way since before you even took your clothes off. Being able to see them, with their faces morphed into awe and horror, and a noticeable bulge on their pants has a tiny glint of fear spark in your body.

Rhysand moves to reassure you as soon as he feels you tense, stroking your body tenderly and kissing your neck, whispering into your ear, “I'm right here.” You relax almost instantly, you don't have to worry about the consequences when you're with him. He wouldn't let either of them hurt you or even get close to you. “Let me take care of you.” You nod and relax further into him, letting him take over.

You let yourself wonder what you must look like in the males' eyes, spread over their High Lord, completely naked while he was fully clothed in his dark suit. One of his hands moves to rest on your stomach and the other grabs one of your legs, spreading them open even more so your guests can have a good look at your wet cunt, all for him.

“Having the privilege of watching is one you don't deserve,” he drops your leg, moving it over his so you can't close them even you wanted to, “But since you were brave enough to try to make a move on my wife,” he drags his hand from your stomach straight to where you need him most, playing around with the wetness, making you drop your head back into him with a soft moan, “It's only fair I show you exactly why you're not worthy of her.” Hearing him use his High Lord voice while he's taking care of you is making you tingly in all sorts of places.

After coating his fingers in your wetness, cursing softly at the amount he finds, he starts rubbing slow circles around your clit, just as you had done before. Letting you melt into him and become more malleable with each stroke.

“Do you hear that?” You open your eyes, not sure if he's talking to you or them but you get your answer when you see them nod with a terrified look on their faces. Seems like your husband got inside their minds. “That's all for me. All of this,” he pulls his hand away to show them the wetness clinging to his skin, connecting him to your pussy, “is mine.” You nudge your hips up, reminding him to keep giving you the attention you deserve after you did such a good job for him. He complies with a chuckle.

He speeds up his pace and moves one hand up to play with your nipples, teasing them just as he knows you like. When he starts tracing your neck with sloppy, open mouth kisses, biting you softly every so often, you realize he wants you to cum fast. You almost forgot he was trying to prove a point.

Your hips start chasing his hand, greedily wanting more. As you're moving back and forth, you can feel him already hard and ready for you again. This makes you moan louder and sink your nails into anything you can reach, one of those things being his arm.

“Want me to stop?” He purrs into your ear, slowing down slightly, pulling a growl out of you.

“Don't you dare.” You stab your nails deeper into his skin, smelling blood.

He just chuckles and picks back up the pace. Looking up to watch your guests squirming in their seats and, you assume, to fuck with their minds further. He widens his legs more, taking yours with his, baring you even more to them.

“I'm going to make her cum now,” you let out something between a whimper and a plea, “And when she does, I need you to hear exactly whose name she'll moan.”

True to his word, he speeds up again, touching you exactly how you need him to. You're really getting close, your moans start getting louder, a mix of his name and please escaping your parted lips, until the knot getting impossibly tighter breaks, washing you away in waves of ecstasy, pulling you under until you can't breathe.

It doesn't take you as long to come to, you weren't completely satisfied after all, he was intentionally neglecting your fluttering entrance. When you do, you notice he has moved his hand to cup your cunt. You almost think it's a way to cover you after the show is over but, as you notice the glint in his eyes as he's staring them on, you know it's a way to mark his claim even more.

“Rhysand.” You've played his game and you know the poor idiots more than got the message. You want him now.

“Tell me, darling.” He looks back to you, moving to kiss your neck, biting at the already fading marks he left earlier.

“Want you to fuck me.” He hums, still sucking around your neck, not giving you any indication that he'll follow through with your request.

“We have company.” What an infuriating time to start caring about the males sitting across from you.

“I don't care.” It seems like that was the answer he was looking for since he immediately turns you around and kisses you deeply. You can feel all the self control he was holding onto break as his kiss gets sloppier, more desperate. He stands up, lifting you up with him and walks to his desk, setting you down on the dark wood, devouring your mouth all the while. The room feels different around you and you don't have to look to know he let his power run untamed.

Urgency starts spreading inside you with each stroke of his tongue, moving to all but rip his clothes off him, needing to feel his body against your own, as close as physically possible. He breaks away from your mouth in favor of trailing kisses all over your chest, biting down on your nipples until you grab his hair and bring him back up to crash your lips against his once again.

You let your hand wander down his torso, running your nails just hard enough to leave red marks in their wake. Wasting no time, you grab onto his cock, giving him a few strokes so you can hear him moan into your mouth.

He pushes you down gently onto the desk, laying you down with no care for the important documents still scattered around it. He breathes out a curse as he holds onto your hips and watches your body sprawled before him, he knows he'll never tire of the sight. You take notice of the darkness that set itself in the room, you probably wouldn't even be able to see your guests through it. Not that you'd look away from him for anything right now.

Ever the tease, Rhys starts swirling the leaking head of his cock around your clit, playing with you before giving you what you want. He does this enough times that you were just about to snarl at him, but then he finally circles your entrance, pushing the head in slowly and bottoming out soon after, not being able to resist your sweet warmth.

The pace he sets is messy but you still try to meet him in his thrusts, you're both desperate, having only one thing in your minds. The hold he has on your hips is sure to bruise but he doesn't let up, and you keep begging him not to stop. You try to hold onto the desk, pushing some things to the floor, trying to keep a hold on your sanity as well. Your legs wrap around him, your body urging him to keep going. Not that he would ever dream of stopping.

You feel your orgasm reaching for you fast, screaming out his name in warning. He moves one hand to play with your clit once again, and it doesn't even take two thrusts before you're exploding around him. Your mind goes blank behind your eyes and you barely feel him cumming right after you, filling you up.

This time it takes you both longer to come back down to the world of the living. Mind blowing pleasure still teasing at every one of your nerve endings, your legs still shaking softly. You run your hand over your face before opening your eyes to catch him already staring down at you. He looks absolutely ruined. His hair is messy from both his hands and yours running through the dark locks, there were red marks all over his torso, down his hips and his arms, your marks. You don't have to see yourself to know you match his satiated expression.

Rhys helps you sit back up on the desk, wincing at the papers stuck to you and picking them off with a smile. Your muscles feel like soup but you still find the strength to hug him to you, leaving little kisses everywhere you can reach. You can't help but bite down on his collarbone when he pulls his spent cock out of you gently, burning with oversensitivity. He drops a kiss on your shoulder as an apology, wrapping one arm around you as well.

You're extremely uncomfortable sitting on the desk, you're probably ruining said desk with the cum dripping out of you too, but you refuse to move away from him. As you lean your head on his chest, almost purring at the way he's caressing your back, you look over to the tied up males, noticing they were unconscious.

“They've already seen enough,” he explains when he catches you looking. You simply hum in response, at this point you don't care if they also see you fuck him or hug him. It won't matter either way.

“You'll make them forget about it?” Your voice is scratchy from all the abuse your throat just endured, you could still feel him when you swallowed.

“Of course,” he nuzzles your hair, “Wouldn't want them to remember how beautiful you are with my cock in your mouth or screaming my name in pure pleasure.” The reminder has your thighs clenching. Gods, this male makes you insatiable.

“Was that all for nothing then?” You move back enough to look into his eyes, not resisting giving him a soft kiss.

“Not for nothing,” he pecks your lips again before giving you an impish grin. “Do you realize how hard you just came?” Your body somehow still has the energy to blush a little at his words.

“That's not what I meant.” You roll your eyes slowly, pouting a little. If he makes them forget about this whole situation, they won't learn their lesson. You hope they're not dumb enough to try hitting on you twice but if they did there was nothing you could do to save them from spending the rest of their days in Azriel's dungeons, you probably wouldn't even want to try to help them.

“I'll leave some of our previous talk intact. They can't forget who you belong to.” He looks over to the males with a serious look on his face, seems he's still on the fence about letting them go so easily. Being High Lord must be hard sometimes, having to be the voice of reason. “I'll let them remember how easily I could toy with their minds and have them think the rest was a nightmare.”

“And you're not worried about what your people would think if they knew how mean you can be?” You wrap your arms around his neck again, pulling him closer, always needing him closer.

“As long as you still love me, darling,” he kisses your forehead before leaning back to smile down at you, “I don't care what anyone else thinks of me.”

[silentwonderlocks]

Need A Hand Stranger? - RE4 Merchant x Male! Reader- One Shot

“Just a little further” a man muttered under his breath as he ran forward throughout the island’s laboratory, a young woman trailing close behind. It was like his mantra for the past day or so, it was supposed to be a simple recuse mission that turned into cult madness. It was no matter to dwell on since the cult had underestimated who The President of the United States had sent to get his daughter back. That man was Raccoon City survivor Leon S Kennedy, a once bright eyed rookie now a hardened government agent. This mission had been a nightmare to deal with, it was anything worse than he knew from that traumatic night. Brainwashed villagers, lake monsters, invisible bugs, royal nutjobs,a power-hungry old comrade, an old flame and more.Leon could imagine all of the paperwork he would have to write down after he returned Ashley home.

 Not wasn’t the time for thinking about the future yet, not when he had gotten out with her first, thankfully there was a familiar indigo flame up head. Illuminating the small area with its standing torch was a metal door. Inside what seemed to be a storage room was the trusted Merchant, who stood behind a small wooden table reaching to his waist, perfect for laying out weapons or treasures to eye. The Merchant dressed in the only attire Leon had seen, a long navy blue cloak with a hood that covered his body. No doubt various amounts of ammos and weapons underneath. A purple bandana with white line pattern was tightly kept around his face only revealing his eyes. Eyes that Leon swore glimmered orange in the light sometimes. Upon his back was a traveling pack filled with supplies to take him where he was needed next.

The Merchant was a strange man but one that Leon greatly accepted as a welcomed help. Leon never questioned who or what the Merchant was or his purpose for helping, he felt like he didn’t need to since the merchant was the only man who seemed to be in his right mind. Leon was curious though, what did he get out of this? The little side requests, the treasures obtained, how the Merchant seemed to be in places before Leon even knew he was meant to be there. It didn’t make sense to him, then again it wasn’t his job to ask. It was his job to get Ashley home safe and alive. You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, right? The unnamed man seemed to perk up, waving his hand up in a welcome gesture.

 “Good to see you’re still pumping full of blood and bullets stranger” Leon walks up to the table taking a moment to rest his gun on it and gives a tired smile towards the man. Ashley meanwhile took a seat on a wooden crate to catch her breath.

“Heh..thanks. Listen, I know I'm gonna be dealing with the head nutcase here soon. I need my knife repaired and my magnum tuned up please. I have the funds to cover it.” Without another thought, Leon pulls out from his pocket: an ornate necklace filled with gemstones slotted beautifully together. Leon places the necklace down on the table. The colors purple, gold, blue and green shine as he adds a handful of various sizes of gold coins next to it. 

“Heheh thank you.” The merchant chuckles, deeply pleased with the trade offer in hand. He makes quick work of repairing Leon’s knife and tuning up his magnum. 

 “Here stranger, should keep you alive a little while longer.” Leon nods his thanks to the man before nodding towards Ashley that they are leaving. The agent heads back to the door, his escort by his side, Leon pauses turning back around to the Merchant. He knew this would be the last time that they would see each other again so, it seemed like the proper time.

“Thank you for everything.” Then just as quickly as the duo arrived, they wasted no time in leaving to go deal with whoever was left in their way.

Left in his own silence once more, The merchant lets out a tired sigh rolling his shoulders. It had been a couple of exhausting days, moving from location to location making sure his persistent customer had everything he needed to carry on with the battle. Now his job was done, time to take his profits and take his own leave. The merchant took the next few minutes putting out the torch and collecting all the valuables around. Distant gunshots could be heard from his spot making the merchant half smile underneath his cover. He wished Leon luck and hoped that he would put an end to all of this madness. That was his cue to get things moving along.

The laboratory’s hallway was dimly lit and smelled of dried blood with the lovely hint of chemicals. Bodies ruined by Leon and his guns laid strewn about, dark blood splatter nearly everywhere. Thankfully no one seemed to be left alive so it would be an easy way out to his hidden boat, all he needed to do was escape. The merchant walks swiftly even with the heavy luggage on his back heading through the metal double door. 

Once inside he sees a room filled with heavy medical equipment he does not understand, he sees an unconscious man out in a big chair. Said chair had arching pods that pointed downwards on towards the man’s chest and stomach. Whatever this machine was, it seemed to have recently performed a surgery on the man. The merchant hums in thought inwardly fighting whether or not to leave the man here to his own fate or save him. He walks up to the chair raising his hand to shake the person slightly earning a small incoherent mumble. A firm shake this time results in a more understandable answer.

“Leave me ugh…alone… 5 more minutes.”

“I'm afraid we don't have 5 minutes. Get up unless you wanna have the whole island blowing up with you on it.” 

That seems to jolt awake the man who wobbles to his feet, but his body doesn’t hold him up for longer. His knees buckle making the man collapse into the merchant who catches him with an exasperated grunt. The man blinks trying to gather his bearings, then pushes himself off of the merchant with a faint blush. He notices that the man is well dressed, in a plain shirt with a leather jacket, form fitting pants and combat boots. Not a soldier, a scientist or a victim? The man whips his head around rushing to grab a backpack that jingles a sweet song the merchant knows too well.

“Shit… I.. Who are you?”

“Heheh later for now we must move.” He responds by pushing the man forward to a side door in the room. 

“ Come before we run into any unwanted guests of ours.” The man seems to understand the situation and follows without another word. The few minutes are spent cautiously moving throughout the laboratory reaching the lower levels of the island. It’s only then does the merchant begin to speak.

“So stranger you mind telling me why I found you passed on in that lab?”

The man huffs, crossing his arms with a raised eyebrow. “You mind telling me who you are?”

“Why I am a lowly merchant who goes around making his profit.” The merchant’s playfully tone was nice to see and hear but it didn’t satisfy the man.

“So does this lowly merchant have a name?” The man asked, mimicking the merchant’s tone.

Huh, even the blonde agent didn’t seem to ask for his name. Not that he cared, the merchant knew the urgent matters at hand. He wouldn’t let that info slip so easily though. “Maybe I do, maybe I don't. If you have something valuable, maybe I'll give you my name.”

The slightly shorter man smirked, pulling a golden crown suited for a king, there were five pristine gemstones all different colors.  He waves it before handing it fully to the merchant who inspects it closely before slipping the crown into his pack.

“Anthony, stranger.”

“My name is ______ Now we’re not strangers anymore.”

[utterlyotterlyx]

Say Yes To Heaven

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - There was no bond that could compare to yours and Azriel's, not even in death.

Warnings - heart breaking angst and sadness, swearing, loss of a loved one, fluff, you're going to cry because I did before I even started writing this.

Work Count - 4.4k

Based on this ask

"I must be in heaven."

Prepare yourself...

Cedar had become your favourite scent.

It intoxicated you the moment he stepped into the room, the quiet male who kept to himself, shrouded in shadow, scanning the room intently whilst lingering toward the back of his clan.

Heart clenching in your chest, you examined him, the infamous spymaster of the Night Court who you'd never met before. He was beautiful, beautiful like moonlight and rain, and you beheld him with such grace that you never gave to anyone.

It was as though the universe knew, and as you glanced to him, you knew too. His stare hadn't found you yet, but he was looking for something, for someone, like he too could feel the gravitational pull that had taken hold of his essence the second he had stepped over the threshold of the ballroom.

A gold strapless dress clung to your figure, Helion's signature halo entrapped in your unbound waved hair. The candlelight embraced you in its golden glow, finding a kinship in you, and you basked in it. Originally from the Autumn Court, you had found a place in Helion's court as his second, his closest friend, his confidant. But something told you that the second the Shadowsinger looked to you, there was little Helion would be able to do to keep you.

Air escaped his lungs as he found the one his shadows had been whispering to him about. There you stood at the edge of the dais, your assigned place at the event thrown by your High Lord, skin glistening and eyes teeming with blissful shock. Your hands were folded in front of you, your shoulders were pushed back and your entire was poised and elegant.

Azriel cared little for court politics as his feet carried him absentmindedly in your direction, and not once did those hazel pools of torment move off of your face that was glowing in the light. He came to a stop before you, visibly breathless, and took your hand in his, feeling that pull swirl into a pit of yearning need in his stomach.

Sultry plucking of a harp consumed the room, an ethereal melody that possessed him like a siren did a sea merchant. A tune that was making him swoon, it complimented you and the moment perfectly.

Standing on the step below you, you looked down on him, expressionless but with soft features that he wanted to touch and etch into his memory. The world slowed, Azriel swore that it was you that stopped the world from spinning, to freeze time in that moment as that golden thread in his chest found its needle inside of your soul.

"Azriel," he told you his name, seemingly being the only thing he could coherently say to you, scanning your face in patient desire to hear one syllable fall from those lips with your hand still in his.

Tilting your head to the side, you smiled softly, "Y/N," your voice was angelic, soft like summer rain, as melodic as a lullaby.

Azriel had heard of you from Rhys who considered you to be a friend as much as Helion, you were a dream walker, able to tread along the line of the sleeping and living worlds unnoticed, to create and infiltrate the dreams of others, to throw your essence into the wind and see where she carried you.

A rare thing, so rare that you were the only known dream walker to walk Prythian in a millennia.

"I've been waiting for you," you dipped your head and smiled, a blush creeping up to your cheeks that made him grin at the captivating beauty of it.

Taking a step down from the dais, you peered up at the male whose wings were shielding you from the crowd of your friends no doubt staring at you both, a bewitching speckle of gold in your eyes, "So have I."

"I must be in heaven," Azriel smirked into your shoulder as he rolled his hips into yours.

He had dreamed of that moment, of having you laid bare beneath him, shuddering and moaning in delicious delight.

Azriel had waited months for it, he had waited as you took your sweet time to accept the bond, no doubt dragging it on purposefully to drive him mad, you were infuriating like that. He had waited until you had decided to leave Helion and settle your roots in Velaris, he had waited until you were ready to take that step, and not once did he complain or rush you.

The night you had accepted the bond formally was the same evening Azriel had moved you into the house he had ordered Rhys to build for you both the moment they had returned from the Day Court after meeting you. It was light and airy, it was brimming with warmth and love, it was the perfect harmony of both of your intertwined souls.

Azriel danced with you in the candlelight, holding you close to his chest and muttering his silent thanks to the Mother for the gift that was you, a mate who wasn't afraid of him, but who was instead enamoured by him.

It was that night you had cooked for him and assured him that you were ready, that he was everything that you ever needed and wanted. Azriel had gladly, and quickly, ate the meal you had presented to him before gathering you up in his arms and taking you to your shared bedroom.

"Say yes to heaven," you had breathlessly muttered back to him, your nails digging into the skin of his back and running along the thick membranes of his wings, "Say yes to me."

Azriel kissed you, moving inside of you like it was the only thing he was sure was right, that it was the only thing that made sense. Your bodies moulded together like molten gold in a crown casing.

"Yes. A thousand times yes," he spoke over your lips, grinning and capturing your lips in his own, running his fingers up your sides and furling them into your hair.

Entwined with you was the only place that gave him sanctuary, the only place where peace was able to find him and where the demons wouldn't dare journey to. Home.

Two hundred years of you.

Two hundred years of coming home and having you by his side, two hundred years of falling in love you with you more and more each day.

Not one bit of you had changed in that time, you were still the gentle, caring, loving soul that he met all those years ago. You still wore your signature gold, your eyes still sparkled with adoration when he walked into a room, even as your family grew with the additions of Feyre and her sisters, not once did your bond falter.

Even Rhys knew that he and Feyre couldn't compare to the bond you shared, a bond of tormented nightmares soothed by your touch, a bond of universe shattering love and yearning, a bond so strong that nothing would ever come between it.

Azriel never stopped smiling, he never lingered anywhere knowing that you were at home waiting for him, everywhere he went he took you with him, or a piece of you if you couldn't be there physically.

Rhys had sent your mate back to you with a smirk, noticing his incessant fidgeting on the chair before his desk, and Azriel didn't need telling twice before he bellowed from the house and soared into the skies, following your scent all the way to the hearth of your home.

You stood with your back to him, head peering over your shoulder like you had heard him coming from miles away, hair clipped up and spilling over your face, "Az," you breathed and rounded the seating area to bury your face in his chest, nuzzling into his cedar and warmth like a babe to a blanket. Azriel curled his arms around you, his shadows peppering your face in sweet kisses and dancing across your shoulders, "I've missed you."

The longest you and Azriel had ever gone without one another was a week, any longer and your bond would ache and crack, forcing you back together and humming in delight at the first featherlight touch before your bodies collided.

Cupping your face in his marred hands, hands that you had never grimaced at, he scanned your face like he did every time he returned to you, with glazed eyes, sketching your face to memory just so that he could dream of it when slumber took hold of him, "I missed you so much, my little dreamer."

His kiss was tender, full of exhaustion and need to have you close. Azriel scooped you into his arms, not being able to stop his lips from touching every bare patch of skin on show to him before he undressed you and made love to you for hours. Making sure that you knew how loved you were, how much he starved for you.

Once your head was nestled onto his chest and his fingers were tracing patterns into your shoulder, you felt him sigh, the exhale making your head drop a couple of inches. Craning your neck, you silently asked him what was wrong, your brows furrowing as he spoke, "Promise me that you'll always be by my side."

"I'll never leave you, Az."

"Promise me," he begged, "Promise me that you'll come back."

Caressing his cheek, your soothing voice uttered, "I'll come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream. I'll come back, always. I promise," a familiar burning coiled around your forearm, blank ink swirled and settled into the skin that lay there, a matching one appeared on his forearm and you wound yourself into him as tight as you could.

Tensions were rising with the war against Hybern looming and you knew that he was terrified, you knew if it was only him, if he didn't have you, then he would be fine. But he wasn't ready to lose you or himself, not when he wasn't ready to stop loving you.

Azriel had flown into a blind rage once Cassian had told him what you had been ordered to do.

The war was looming, accelerating even, and Azriel was trying frantically to keep you out of it.

Rhys had ordered you to dream walk into Hybern, into the King's sick and twisted mind. It was the only leverage they had, that the King didn't know of you so wouldn't know how to prepare against your abilities. You'd be able to figure out his plans, you'd be able to warp his mind into making the wrong move.

It was an order that you had agreed to, albeit begrudgingly, "I can't do it here. If there's any chance he knows of me and can use my magic to trace it to the source, then I can't be here."

Rhys had made sure to keep Azriel out of the meeting, he had made sure to busy him with something else, he knew that he wouldn't allow it, and Rhys needed you to agree. It wasn't like he enjoyed coming between you two, he loved you like a sister, he doted on you and appreciated every single thing you did from his family.

After the cauldron, you were instrumental in healing both Elain and Nesta, you infiltrated their dreams and filled them with light, you plucked away the horror, much like you had done for Azriel when you had first began your relationship, and locked them away in the chest in your mind where the nasty things went. Even Feyre had leaned on you, and you had gladly done the same for her, coaxing away her sickness and making her into the powerful female she had grown into.

Your gift was serene, you very rarely used it to do something bad, but the King of Hybern was a monster, one that needed to be stopped, and the war was drawing closer, and they were running out of options.

"You're not going anywhere," Azriel had growled from the doorway, glowering like the devil in disguise at his brother before approaching you, running his fingers down the side of your face and placing his lips on your forehead.

"Az," you trailed off, taking his hands in your own and forcing him to meet your gaze, "We don't have a choice."

Azriel shook his head, "I can't be away from you," he was terrified, terrified that you leaving would mean that he would never see you again.

Tears bubbled in your eyes, "I know," your bottom lip wobbled, "But you can't come with me. This is a part of me that I'm not proud of, I don't want you to see this. You're needed here, you need to protect our home."

"You are my home, y/n. Not Prythian. Not Velaris or the darkness. You. You're my little dreamer, I need you here where I know that you're safe."

"If I don't do this then we won't have a home to come back to, we won't come back to each other like we promised."

"No-"

"Az, we don't have a choice," you cupped his face and his fingers curled around your wrists, "I can do this, and we can win. And then we'll go home to our little house by the Sidra and make all of those babies we talked about, okay?"

Silence, "Okay."

Turning to Rhys, you told him, "There's a dream walker temple on the edge of Summer. I'll go there, I work better at dusk," you focused back on your mate as the sun began to dip in the sky, "Take me home. Please."

One more moment, one more moment of your love consuming you before the realisation settled in that there was a real chance that you'd never see one another again.

Azriel stood on the grass of your home, clutching onto you with every fibre of his soul, "What if we don't-"

"Don't say it."

"Y/N," tears spilled down his cheeks as they did on yours, your hands were fisted into his shirt and your forehead was pressed against his.

Purple had began to float across the sky, a warning that time was waning.

"I will see you when dusk meets dawn. I will see you in the stars and clouds. I will see you again," you strained through strangled sobs, "I love you Azriel. Thank you for finding me and giving me two hundred years of love and wonder. Thank you for loving me and becoming the only home I ever needed."

"You rescued me from myself," he breathed, "I'll look for you. I'll dream of you. I would go through all of my pain over and over again if it means that you're waiting at the end of it. I'll see you on the other side of the stars, my little dreamer. I love you," he blinked hard and tears fell from his eyes, ones that you brushed away before kissing him deeply, "Go. If you don't go now then I'll never be able to let go of you. I can't watch you go. Please y/n."

Pressing your lips to his one more time in a featherlight embrace, you stepped from his arms, shuddering at the cold that shrouded you in that moment and sobbed at his outstretched hands that were searching for you.

And then you disappeared, you vanished before your mouth could betray you and tell him what you had both been dreaming of.

It had spent your energy but it had worked.

Your journey into his mind had been successful and once you rose from the golden stone floor of the dream walker temple and saw the sun loom on the horizon, you screamed the news and findings into Rhys' mind and simultaneously flooded the straining bond with love, sighing as a tidal wave of adoration flowed back to you.

You had to get there, you had to reach the battlefield and help. Being Helion's former second meant that you were a gifted warrior, and even living in Velaris hadn't allowed you to take a break from that part of your life.

Ash floated from the sky, landing on your face as you winnowed to the edge of the field and gasped at the sight. There were mangled bodies everywhere, there was screaming and crying, and fighting surrounded you like your own personal nightmare.

The sky was dark with smoke and you frantically tugged on the bond, begging it to lead you to your mate. There was a chance now, a real chance that you'd both be able to go home and live the dream you'd always wanted.

Blue flashed in the corner of your eye and you saw him, he was surrounded, back to back with Cassian as a circle of enemies encroached on their position. Glancing to your side, you ripped a steel tipped javelin from the body of a long gone foe, throwing it in the air and grasping it with a perfect grip before hurtling it through the sky, smiling as it ripped through a total of six enemies.

Azriel and Cassian both snapped to your direction in awe at the fact you'd just taken out a third of the enemies around them with one throw. Cassian chuckled and relished in tearing the rest of the males limb from limb whilst Azriel nodded to you, asking if you were alright and only waiting a single beat for your confirmation before he continued on his onslaught.

There would be time to reunite later.

The war was bloody and horrible, you had never enjoyed killing anyone, but you were a ruthless and formidable opponent, no one could have tore you down when you had met Mor on the battlefield and made fast work of clearing the area.

You continued to fight, you continued and fought with every ounce of energy you could spare. You fought through the cauldron breaking and Rhys dying, you fought through the last remaining minutes before the surrender.

You fought until you realised that you couldn't feel him.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you dropped your sword and glanced around, noticing that none of your friends were on the battlefield, you dropped you sword and ran. Struggling panting breaths flew from your lips as you ran, hurtling over piles of bodies and around healers scouring the grounds for souls to save.

The camps were brimming with bloody males and females, all being tended to, some happy and others in shock. You tugged on the bond. Silence. You tugged on it again. Silence.

A clearing appeared and you saw them, you saw Cassian with his head in his hands, you saw Rhys leaning against Feyre and her red puffy eyes. The skimming of rocks alerted them to your presence and Rhys darted to you, "Where is he, Rhys?"

Your thick braid waved around as your head whipped across the clearing furiously, "I can't feel him. Where is he?"

Rhys grasped your arms then, forcing you to look at him. The entrance to the tent flapped in the wind and you could faintly see the drooped wings trailing off the table. Rhys was struggling to speak, he was taking in your furrowed brows and wide eyes, the parted lips and the softly shaking head, "No. No," you said to no one in particular as you took a step to the side.

You reached for the bond again only to feel nothing on the other side and you gasped, taking a tentative step toward the flapping entrance of the tent and inhaling deeply, faded cedar and night kissed air.

Your heart had registered it before your mind had, it was shattering in your chest and you grasped your stomach as it swelled in pain, gasping as it settled. Cassian cradled you in his arms, not being able to say anything, but looking up at him confirmed it and you burst into the tent without a second thought, clasping the entrance closed behind you.

Light floated through the tear in the far corner, slicing across the floor and over his figure, but you couldn't move, you couldn't breathe.

"Az?"

Nothing.

"Azriel?" You took a step toward him, praying that he was just injured and asleep, but as you took one glimpse at his face, you crumpled to your knees.

There had never been pain like it, you clawed at your chest and crawled along the dirt to the hand that was outstretched to you, like he had reached for you just before he left. You nuzzled your cheek onto his palm, begging for warmth, for some form of life.

Cold greeted you and you screamed, you screamed a strangled cry and sobbed, pulling on his hand and cupping it over your face like he was going to wake up and curl his fingers around your chin and kiss you and cry with you.

But he wasn't.

You grasped onto the edge of the table where he lay and drank in his pale face, his body void of dancing shadows, and you crawled into the tiny space at his side, curling onto his chest and rubbing your cheek against his leathers, "You promised," you cried, muffled into his icy skin, and at the words, you felt a searing pain spread across your body, one of broken bonds and promises as your tattoos began to vanish one by one.

Only in death will you be free of our promises, my little dreamer.

"Please, please, bring him back. Give him back to me. I can't live without him. Please." Craning your neck, you peered up at him, at his closed eyelids and peaceful smile, like he had drifted off into slumber and was dreaming of you. "We had it, Az. We were there. We're having a baby. You need to come back to me."

Silence.

Heart breaking sobs flowed through you, so painful that Nesta had to enter the tent, a sob escaping from her own lips at the sight of you curled into Azriel's lifeless size, you had draped his arm over you, you were pressing your lips to the space below his ear, you were begging the Mother to bring him back to you.

"I was going to tell you after this, after we'd won. It would have made it all worth it, Our own little baby, our own little dreamer. Come back to me," your face crumpled, "You promised you'd never leave me."

Nesta approached, fingers outstretched to you and she placed a hand on your shoulder, watching painfully as you turned Azriel's head and placed your lips on his, sobbing against them and clutching your stomach, "I'll see you on the other side of the stars. I'll come back to you even if you can't come back to me. I'll dream of you every day. I love you, Az. I love you."

Mor refused to leave you, she cradled you as you cried and rocked you to sleep, she listened to your fearful sobs of going through your pregnancy alone, and she cried with you. They all cried harder, like air didn't deserve them when Nesta had told them of your condition, of losing Azriel and carrying his child.

Mor had continued to hold you as your body finally gave in and sleep confused your soul, carrying you to the place where the Mother knew where you needed to be.

Warmth floated over your figure, and your weary eyes opened, wincing at the light flitting through the open windows. Coffee and cedar clung to the air, and you shot upward, searching the landscape for the person you were breaking for.

"Hello, my little dreamer," his voice was like a symphony and you exhaled, straining your sadness in the action, and turned to the side to see him sat to your side. Azriel smiled sadly at you and thinned his lips, "I missed you."

A sob thundered through you and he was on you in an instant, cradling you to his chest and stroking your hair, "You left me."

"I know. I'm sorry, y/n. I'm so sorry," he pulled away and rested his forehead on your, tips of your noses touching and eyes scanning your face like they always did.

He was there but he wasn't, a symphonic figment of your imagination, or the Mother's final gift to you, to let you have him mentally if she couldn't allow you to have him physically.

"We're having a baby."

Azriel smiled, doing his best to contain his tears for you, he had to be strong for you, he was the one who had left you in the world of the living without him, "I heard you."

"You did?"

Azriel hummed, looking at you with adoration and wonder as his hand drifted to your abdomen, "You can do this," tears threatened to spill down his cheeks and he blinked them away furiously, "I know it's hard, and I know you feel alone, But I will always be here, you'll always be able to find me in your dreams."

"It's not the same," you strained, clutching hold of him like your life depended on it, which in that moment, it did, "I need you. Come back."

"I can't, my little dreamer," he caressed your cheek, stroking the reddened puffy skin with the pad of his thumb, "I'm too far gone. But I can stay here, on the edge of life and death with you until you want to send me away."

"I'll never send you away. I'll never let you go."

"We're having a baby," his voice cracked and you knew he was breaking, breaking at the thought of not being able to hold you during your labour or go to the bakeries to pick up your favourite sweet treats, of not being able to sing your babe into rest with his melodic voice, "I'm going to be a dad," you nodded, on the edge of breaking with him, he lowered himself to your barely there swell and ran his fingers over the surface, "You be good for her. She's the best thing that the Mother ever made. I'll meet you one day, when the time is right," then he moved back up to you, sketching your face to memory like he always did.

"On the other side of the stars?"

"On the other side of the stars," you confirmed, pressing you lips to his and letting him hold you in his ghostly embrace, allowing your two hundred years worth of love to consume you, "You'll be waiting there for me?"

Azriel ran his fingers down the slope of your neck and shoulder and pressed his lips into your hairline, "Oh my little dreamer, I'll wait a million years for my soul to dance with yours in the stars, and that day will be the best day of my existence."

Authors Note

I cried all the way through this, I broke myself oh my godddd

[pretzel-box]

hello! do you perhaps do smut things? If so! Perhaps sebastian and his husband with some smut? I know hes married to..zerum but her toxicity in the servers been enough for me!!

if you dont do smut or dont want to do this PLSS sebastian comforting an anxious (male plspls) reader? Tysm!! You rock and i love ur feed!!

The memories of the drowning

words: 1k

status: barely proof-read

tags: male!reader, slightly sequel to Suffocated , married established relationship, mention of anxiety and panic & comfort in the end

author note: I'm probably one of the people that currently hate on the devs for their behaviour, which makes me write x reader stories in first place. Zerum isn't included in the game, which means she can't be married in canon to Sebastian. She's a real person, not a pressure character. So congrats, y'all can marry our beloved merchant in your own headcanons! ♡

Every time you close your eyes, the events of the past replay in the depths of your mind, vivid and unrelenting, replacing your dreams with painfully realistic memories. The horrors you faced in the Hadal Blackside refuse to fade, instead etching themselves deeper into your consciousness with every passing night.

The different screams echo endlessly in your ears, a cacophony of terror that leaves an uncomfortable ringing, dulling your senses. Your body, conditioned by the countless encounters with unspeakable horrors, twitches involuntarily at the memory of how the floors and walls shook violently with every terrible angler attack. The sensation of those tremors, the sickening anticipation of what was to come, still lingers in your muscles, a reminder that survival was never guaranteed.

At this point, you can't lie to yourself anymore. The time spent in the depths of the Hadal Blackside has mentally scarred you, leaving wounds that may never fully heal. The darkness of the ocean wasn't just physical; it had seeped into your mind, haunting you in the night when your body relaxes from the survival modus only to switch back into pure panic.

Sometimes, the weight of it all comes crashing down on you in the dead of night, overwhelming you with the sudden, terrifying realization that you are trapped in a facility full of death traps, thousands of feet below the surface. The oppressive pressure of the ocean above feels like it's bearing down on you even now, crushing you under its immense, suffocating weight. The knowledge that you are surrounded by darkness and danger, with no escape, no reprieve, gnaws at the edges of your sanity with each passing second, making the experience worse.

Your eyes rip themselves open as your whole body starts to tremble uncontrollably. Cold sweat drenches your skin, making the sheets cling to you like the tentacles that once threatened to drag you to your doom. Your hand clings to your shirt, grabbing it tightly as if the fabric could anchor you to reality, grounding you in the present and warding off the terror of your memories.

The breath hitches, coming in shallow, rapid gasps that only feed the growing panic. The ringing in your ears intensifies, drowning out any attempt to calm yourself, until it feels like your head might split open from the noise. Desperate to silence it, you press both hands over your ears, squeezing your eyes shut in a futile attempt to block out the memories, the sounds, the overwhelming fear that consumes you.

But even with your eyes closed, the darkness offers no comfort. Instead, it brings the images flooding back, the twisted, writhing forms of the creatures you barely escaped, the cold, uncaring walls of the underwater facility, the endless corridors that seemed to close in around you with each step.

The faint hint of fluorescent blue hovered in the corner of your eyes, casting a soft, eerie glow across the dimly lit room. It was a color that had once sent chills down your spine, a reminder of all the deaths you had experienced. But now, it had become a familiar presence, a sign that you were not alone.

Sebastian had stirred beside you, waking from his own troubled nap. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. The gesture was silent, but it spoke volumes. He knew the weight of the nightmares that plagued you, the way they clung to your mind. He couldn't lie, he was in a very similar spot, haunted by his own memories of the Hadal Blackside and all the things Urbanshade did to him.

As his arms encircled you, you felt the coldness of his body seep through your clothes, a stark contrast to the warmth of his embrace. Yet, instead of making you shiver, it grounded you, reminding you that you weren't lost in the darkness of your mind. He was here with you, sharing in the burden of those memories.

Sebastian held you tightly, as if trying to shield you from all the monsters that have threatened to pull you under. His other free arm moved gently, fingers threading through your hair in a soothing motion. The rhythmic, repetitive strokes were comforting, helping to slow the rapid pace of your heartbeat and calm the storm raging within you.

He didn't need to say anything. His presence alone was enough, a quiet assurance that you didn't have to face this alone. He understood your fear, your pain, because he had lived it too. The horrors of the deep had scarred you both, but in this moment, you found solace in each others company.

Gradually, the tension in your body began to ease. The panic that had gripped you loosened its hold, replaced by a fragile sense of peace. You closed your eyes, not to shut out the memories, but to focus on the feeling of Sebastians arms around you, his fingers in your hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. His tail moved, wrapping itself around you, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch.

In the silence, you could hear a faint sound. But it was Sebastian’s heartbeat, slow and steady beneath your ear, that anchored you. With him, the memories didn't seem as overwhelming, the darkness not as suffocating. He was your lifeline, pulling you back from the brink.

"You're safe," he finally whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with certainty. "I got you." He leaned down, placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, and nuzzled into your hair. "I keep you safe, didn't I promise you that in my wedding vow?"

You nodded against his chest, not trusting your voice to respond. His words were simple, but they carried a truth you desperately needed to hear, and you felt blessed to have such a protective husband. For now, it was enough. You were safe, wrapped in his arms, with the knowledge that whatever came next, you wouldn't have to face it alone.

Sebastian continued to hold you close, his touch gentle and reassuring, until the tremors in your body subsided completely. As you drifted off into a more peaceful sleep, the fluorescent blue light dimmed behind your eyelids, leaving you in a quiet, comforting darkness that was no longer filled with terror, but with the warmth of his presence beside you.

[slowbison]

Bottom! Leon S. Kennedy x Top! Male Reader

Summary: Leon had been caught off guard and got hurt in the process. Running out of supplies, you come across the merchant who offers a questionable solution which you take, in an effort to help Leon. Later on, he notices something rather wet staining his shirt. Coming from his nipples.

words: 2.3k

warnings: male lactation, praising, frottage, hand jobs

Heavy footsteps echoed behind you as you frantically scanned the area for any temporary shelter. Your eyes landed on a dilapidated home in the near distance that looked good enough to barricade. Determination set across your face, you adjusted your hold on the blonde man next to your waist and rushed forwards, until a familiar gravely voice rang out to you.

“Hey there stranger, got a couple of goodies in stock. C’mere and take a look” the shadowy man called, signaling over to his makeshift booth.

“Now’s not the time, I’ll come back later if I can. There’s a whole swarm behind me, I suggest that you leave.” You warned, sounds of angry grumbling and footsteps slowly approaching. The man laughed and opened up his trench coat, revealing a series of ammo, guns, bombs, and a mysterious red liquid vial.

“C’mon now, how do ya expect to protect the lad on yer shoulder if ya ain’t got the gear or the fixing’s?” The merchant asked, eyeing the unconscious blonde man whose breathing turned ragged, quiet groans slipping out. Your mind started racing as you recalled your dwindling supply of herbs and the last few shots that were left in your gun, firing so many at the villagers behind that just seemed never ending.

The merchant sensing your conflict chirped up “Since you’ve been a rather generous paying customer, I’ll give this to yer for free,” grabbing the small red vial from his pocket into the air for you to take. You eyed it suspiciously as he had never had this in stock during your sudden run-ins with each other and asked for a description.

“It’s an experimental drug of mine that I’ve been whiffing up, guaranteed to heal major wounds. It ain’t gonna kill ya if that’s whatcha worried about, heheh.” You eyed it some more before, a loud whine came from your side. As the man began jerking in pain, holding onto his side with a piece of cloth, a slight hint of blood shining. Earlier, he had made the mistake of letting his guard down at an old villager that jabbed a pitchfork at him, you axed the grandma in the head for that. Pocketing the vial, you threw out a handful of Pesetas, pointing at some ammo and few grenades since no herbs were available.

The merchant happily gave them out to you, scooping up the money before nodding at you. “Pleasure doing business stranger, wish yer all the best.” Disappearing into the woods soon after, forging for supplies to sell at the next encounter. You readjust your hold and resumed a fast pace to the for-mentioned home.

Reaching at the entrance, you swung it open and scanned around the room. It was a bit shabby, but so were all the homes in this insane village. The floors were slightly cracked along with walls, there were a few pieces of furniture that still seemed functional and a decent looking bed sat in the corner. Dropping him off at the bed, you went to the side of the door and grabbed the wardrobe, pushing it in-front of the door. You closed the window next to the bed using a piece of wood on the floor, hammering it shut with some nails. Though you were tempted to light the furnace for some heat, it would draw unwanted attention which was the last thing you wanted right now.

Soft groaning could be heard from the bed at your side as you put down the hammer on a dresser, rushing to the man’s side. Leon’s face was scrunched up in pain from the stab wound, still slowly leaking blood. You lifted his head into your arms, gently shushing him and dug your hands into your pocket for the vial. “Hey, it’s alright Leon, I’ve got you okay? Just hang on for me love.” You bit at the cork sealing the vial - spitting it in some corner and brought it to Leon’s mouth. “Open up darling, this will help the pain… I hope” You whispered, tilting it up as the liquid creeped into his mouth.

The taste wasn’t ideal, but it held a soft cherry taste with a bit of a burn which led to a heaved cough. “You did good Leon, always good for me” You praised, caressing the side of his face watching as his complexion became better thanks to the drug, noting to give a nice tip for the merchant later.

You moved to the wall facing the bed and rearranged your positions with his chest in your lap, head cradled in your arms. You stilled, hearing the sounds of multiple footsteps outside the boarded window, torch light creeping at the corners. The villagers growled and lingered around the house before taking off at the sound of a distant noise, yelling along the way.

Letting out a relaxed breath that you didn’t realize you were holding, glanced down at the man in your arms and ran your hand in his hair. “I won’t let them near you, so take a nice nap for me.” You whispered, kissing the top of his head. Leon cuddled closer to you, breathing finally stabilized and the wound seemingly disappeared. You smiled and drummed your fingers on his chest, keeping watch over the sleeping man.

Sometime later, Leon groggily woke up with a slight hint of red dusting his cheeks. “Ugh, I feel like I was stabbed by something.” He grumbled, rubbing his hand on his head. You chuckled, lifting his head up to peck his lips, “That’s cause you were, got a free drug thing from the merchant while we were coming here.”

Leon gave you an incredulous look.

“You gave me some random drug from the merchant? Much less free?”

You nervously smiled, playing with a curl in his hair, “He said it wouldn’t kill you, plus there isn’t enough herbs that could’ve helped.” Leon raised his head slightly, squinting at your face as you continued, “On the bright side it worked didn’t it?”

He sighed, falling back to your arms and closed his eyes. “Is there also a reason why my chest is wet?” he muttered, turning to face you. A confused look crossed your face as you looked down at the wet spots donning his shirt around the nipples. “Well he did say it was experimental…” You muttered, lifting a hand to squeeze the pec. A low moan escaped from Leon, slapping a hand on his mouth before batting your hand away.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” He hissed, more liquid staining his shirt.

“Examining your chest, now if you would kindly cooperate with me agent” You said, tugging at the straps for him to help remove. Leon reluctantly sits up to straddle your thighs and removes the holster, tugging up at his shirt to reveal two puffy nipples that dripped with white substance and a much rounder chest than usual. Grinning at the embarrassed look he gave you. “The assessment won’t take long now, be good until then.”

Leon quietly grumbled as you moved closer to his chest, grabbing at his pec once again — giving it a good squeeze. Leon let out a choked moan at the action and unknowingly pressed his chest closer to your palm. The sounds he made as you gently massaged the right swollen pec went straight to your dick which made you even more curious…

You latched onto his left nipple and sucked, relishing at the savory taste that flowed in your mouth, letting out a pleased groan. Sensing slight relief from his chest, he whined and locked his fingers in your hair - pulling you closer before feeling your hard dick against his own.

“You- you’re enjoying this” He said, face flushed.

You released the puffy nipple with a soft pop, flicking your tongue to catch any remaining drops. Grinning up at him.

“We’ve gotta make the best out of this situation and I’m willing to take the fall” You said, licking your lips. “Besides, you seem to be enjoying this just as much as me.” Leon, embarrassed, looks away before straightening his back and jutting out his chest. “Then hurry up… don’t just stare, do something.” He refused to admit that he found you feeding from him rather hot and boner inducing, as the grip on your hair got tighter. The thought of you fucking him while suckling milk from his teats spurring him on, whimpering at the the idea.

“With pleasure, love.” You chuckled, leaning in to resume your suckling at the nub, flavor bursting in your mouth. Leon threw his head back moaning, rolling his hips against yours, cock straining painfully in his pants. You could feel your head getting fuzzy, switching to the right nipple when you couldn’t suckle anymore milk while returning the man’s eager grinding with your own rocking.

The taste was absolutely heavenly and you could definitely get addicted to the taste, perhaps already so as you pulled more into your mouth, cock leaking in your pants. Leon whines were a mixture of relief and want, begging for more friction.

“Please, I-I need more, fuck please touch me,” He begged, humping helplessly on your crotch.

You dug your hands into his pants blindly going as you refused to leave his chest, fumbling to unbuckle his belt. Slipping a hand passed his underwear, pulling it down to free his leaking cock, doing the same for your own matching prick. Bringing them together with one hand, you set a rather fast pace — using the pre cum as lube.

Leon sobbed at the feeling, squirming as he could feel himself nearing his orgasm. Your hold on hips got stronger, thrusting faster and more slippery as you neared yourself as well. There were a few drops of milk left that you savored, swirling your tongue around the bud hoping to ease more out, releasing the sensitive areola when you couldn’t pull anymore.

You settled for kissing and marking his chest, focusing on drawing out more noises from the blonde. Who whined, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes. “More, ah- I’m close.. mhpm, please keep going.” He cried, losing himself more in the pleasure. You moved from his chest to his neck, trailing up to his jaw before attacking his lips, devouring his moans.

He could taste himself in your mouth, finding it odd, but it didn’t stop him from fucking your hand more. You felt yourself nearing eruption and wrapped your hand tighter, moving to whisper into his ear, “My good boy, waiting for me. You can cum love.”

Leon let out a broken moan, spilling into your hand and onto his torso, cock twitching as he lightly humped your hand. You followed soon after, mixing your release with his — cum trailing down your hand. Chest heaving, Leon draped himself over you, head resting at your shoulder. You kissed his nape as you wiped the cum on the sheets, tucking yourself and him back in your pants.

Running circles on his back, waiting for his breathing to stabilize before speaking. “We have to keep moving, love. They’ll be back with possibly more.”

Leon sighed, nuzzling your neck before moving to stand, fixing his shirt and putting his holster back on. “Well let’s get moving then, the sooner the better I guess,” he grumbled.

You followed after him, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing the back of his neck as a silent apology. He turned to kiss you properly before breaking and going to push the wardrobe blocking the door.

Carefully making your way outside, you traversed through the village and onto a beaten down log path in the woods. Coming up to the entrance of a desolate church, killing a few villagers as you made your way further in. In the distance there was a fickle purple flame that grew brighter as you got closer.

“‘Ello strangers, good to see ya.” The merchant greeted, eyeing the now conscious blonde. “Glad to see you’re still kicking, last I seen ya, you were as sick as a dog. Good to see the puppy back at full health heheh.”

“Very funny, now do you want to do some business or not?” Leon rolled his eyes and scanned the items the merchant had in stock, purchasing a few before walking over to stand at the church door.

You walked up buying a few before dropping in low voice, one where Leon couldn’t hear you. “So uh, about that experimental drug of yours… got anymore in the back,” throwing some extra pesetas on the table. Though you couldn’t see it, the merchant grinned, understanding the implication and opened a hidden pocket with the same red vial from before.

“Do hope it meets your desires, stranger.” He chuckled, slipping it into your hands as you stealthily tucked it in your pocket.

“Hey what’s the hold up?” Leon yelled, raising a brow at the both of you. The merchant let out a deep laugh before waving him away. You nodded at him before walking over to Leon, patting his shoulder.

“Let’s go in, wouldn’t want to miss out on any action” You purred, leaving a puzzled Leon who trudged behind you.

“What did you buy?”

“Oh nothing really, just a little treat was all.”

“Yeah that’s totally not something to be worried about at all.”

“Haha, don’t worry about it love, you’ll love it. Trust me.”

Leon blushed and bit his lip, guessing what it may be and definitely tried not to think about it again. You grinned watching the blonde in the corner of your eye, playing with the vial in your pocket. You couldn’t wait to give it to him.

a/n: hey y'all, finally dropped the leon fic (yippie). hope y'all enjoyed this one, kinda proud of this one honestly and gyaatt damn, have y'all have been sweet to me with all the praises for my last miguel o'hara fic. got some more on that cooking, i see your requests and it got me giggling and kickin feeties n' shit. working on those after this, got a structure down on that. also i'm in the process of making a masterlist for y'all to easily go through my stuff, i never thought i would write as much as i do, but it's been real fun. i will say that after like 4 more drops (requests included), i'm gonna take a short break. anyways that's all for now.

up next: miguel wears a collar with a bell and you fuck him???. whatttt. teehee.

[thenameswinterfics]

HEARTS OF STEEL, LOVE OF SILK

Fandom: The Last Kingdom Pairing: Sihtric x Reader Settings: Season 5, episode 1 Summary: While you and your children enjoy a peaceful, domestic life in Rumcofa, Sihtric comes up with a pleasant surprise for you. Word Count: 3,9 K Warnings: Fluff, domestic fluff, smut, bad smut, very very bad smut, p in v sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, Daddy Sihtric is a warning itself. A/N: This fic was totally unplanned at first. It came out after a month and half of writing's block. I have planned no outline, no general guidelines, so sorry if you see a messy writing and some rushed parts. This is my first time writing smut, so I apologise if you'll find some horrors inside. This is a birthday present for my beloved @foxyanon . Hope you like it. If you're not, as I told you, you're free to cancel me. A special thanks to @zaldritzosrose , @legitalicat and @sylasthegrim for being a continuous inspiration and helping me with the fic, especially for the last part.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header & dividers by @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3

Winter came to Rumcofa in the blink of an eye, even faster than you could have imagined, unlike the village you once called home. However, you would be lying if you said that the cold season brought nothing but atmospheric surroundings. The white, soft snow covered part of the village streets all the way to the wooden dock, the frost clinging to the planks like delicate lace. The trees had been stripped of their leaves, but their bare branches were adorned with pure white, along with some water plants sprouting along the sides of the dock. The harsh temperatures didn't stop the merchants from coming and going as they reached the village by boat, some even staying the night and enjoying the evening bustle of the alehouse, warming their bodies with a hot meal and ale.

You didn't mind walking the streets at this time of year, the hustle and bustle of the village warming the air with a pleasant buzz. But there were days like this when you simply basked in the warmth of your home, a modest but cosy hut that provided a safe nest from the biting cold outside.

Signe, your daughter, was content to sit on your lap, her legs swinging happily and her eyelids half closed as you ran the palm of your hand through her silky hair, your bone comb gently untangling a few pesky knots. A soft hum escaped your lips, a soothing melody accompanied by the crackle of the fire, as your eyes wandered to your two youngest twins, Kare and Kore, playing peacefully on the warm fur on the floor, with a few wooden toys scattered about.

A buzz of voices outside caught your attention, a deep male voice followed by two shrill ones. And as the door of your hut swung open, you recognised the voices of your husband, Sihtric, followed by your first and third sons, Hindr and Ivar, the latter hoisted onto his father's broad shoulder. You saw the twins raise their heads, run to their father and cling to his shirt, tugging at it as Sihtric's free hand roamed over their small heads, playfully ruffling their hair with a wide grin on his face.

Years had passed, and Sihtric had become one of Uhtred's most trusted allies and friends, and a formidable warrior, earning him the nickname, along with Finan and Osferth, of "Uhtred's Pretty Boys". Yet despite his newfound confidence, you could see in his gaze the same shy warrior you had met many years ago in Coccham, on one of your usual stops on your lonely journeys. You were a warrior not bound to any lord, and Sihtric had been sworn under Uhtred's protection some years ago.

You could remember all the stolen glances you shared that night in the alehouse, and how he looked away quickly when he met your eyes, the flush in his cheeks visible in the dim light. It took some time for you to get to know him better, and at first you thought the Dane didn't enjoy your company, for he fled at the first opportunity.

But Sihtric loved you, of course he did. A love so fierce and sincere that it would move even the hardest of the gods. And because he loved you so much, he feared to disappoint you: he was born a bastard, with nothing to give you in return but his skill with the sword. It was not until you joined Uhtred's warriors a few months later that you got to know each other well, and the spark of love exploded like a fire in the middle of the forest. After a short courtship, Sihtric asked his lord for permission to marry you, and he eagerly agreed.

The gods blessed your union with the arrival of your first child, a boy you both named Hindr. Three years later, your union was blessed again with the arrival of Signe, who Sihtric affectionately called "my little princess". While you loved your two children dearly, you both agreed that there was room in your love nest for one more, and a few years later Ivar was born. 

Your fourth pregnancy came as a surprise, as neither of you had planned to welcome another child into your family. Sihtric was reluctantly forced to leave his family to follow Uhtred in his attempt to retake Bebbanburg, and while he was busy defending the borders of Mercia, you gave birth alone, bringing two healthy twins into the world. You were reunited after the Siege of Winchester, and after shedding tears of joy for his children, he vowed to be a more present father and husband and make up for lost time.

"Let me come with you, Papa!" was the whining voice of Hindr, tugging at his father's sleeve to get his attention. The Dane lowered Ivar to the ground, and after he both kissed his sons' foreheads, he bent over his firstborn.

"It's still too dangerous for you, Hindr," Sihtric chided in a calm but firm tone, his calloused fingers stroking the child's cheek and chuckling at his son's little pout. "One day you will join me. I promise you." He finished, kissing the top of his head.

Then he rose and approached you and Signe by the fire. As soon as he was in your presence, he bent over you, holding two small flowers in one of his hands.

"One for my little princess," the Dane said softly, placing one of the flowers in his daughter's hand and gently pressing his lips to her forehead, to which Signe responded with a shy, silent nod. "And one for my queen," he added, leaning his face over yours and sealing your lips with a tender and lingering kiss. You closed your eyes, savouring the moment as a pleasant and familiar warmth spread through your chest. It had been a long time since you and Sihtric had shared an act of intimacy, and caring for five children took time away from even a brief kiss.

But the time was up, and soon you were forced to break the kiss and watch as Sihtric hurriedly took his sword. "Are you leaving already?" you asked, a hint of disappointment in your voice. Sihtric looked over at you as he took one of the twins in his arms.

"The Blood Month, my love," the Dane said, content to be surrounded by his wife and children, "Our boy Aethelstan is ready for his first hunt and we will join him.”

You hummed in understanding, your body mechanically combing Signe's hair while your mind was elsewhere. You loved your children, they all had your blood and Sihtric's running through their veins. But you were a warrior before you were a mother, and the time you spent on the battlefield with your husband was a distant memory. But Sihtric seemed to sense your discomfort, and he approached you once more before putting Kore down. 

"I swear we will celebrate the next Blood Month together, my love," the Dane reassured you in a soothing voice and gave you a final kiss before saying goodbye to his children one by one. Before leaving the hut, he stroked Hindr's hair once more. "Protect your Mama and siblings while I'm gone, little warrior."

"As if his mother could not protect herself," you scolded playfully, rolling your eyes dramatically. Sihtric replied with a loud chuckle, his eyes sparkling with affection as he crossed the threshold of the door.

"I know you can, my fierce shield maiden," he replied with a grin, closing the door behind him.

You quickened your pace as you reached the alehouse, holding the twin's small hands in yours. Sihtric followed ahead of you, a small axe taken from Hindr sheathed in his leather belt, as he watched his three eldest children run through the building. 

The hunt had gone well, except for one unforeseen event that no one had anticipated. Sihtric told you how Aethelstan had been attacked by three men, but had somehow managed to kill one and survive almost unharmed. It was not a boar they had sacrificed, but at least the Blood Month tradition was somehow expected. But it was the unexpected arrival of Eadith that took everyone by surprise: Uhtred and his men knew she had left after the events in Mercia and Winchester, but no one expected her to pay a sudden visit to Rumcofa.

The alehouse was warm, the flickering fire of candles dancing through the tables and casting a cosy glow on the wooden walls. The aroma of ale filled the air, the clatter of mugs and the cheerful chatter and laughter of the men adding to the convivial atmosphere. 

With each mug of ale in hand, the whole group stood still and circled around Eadith as she told them the stories of how she had come to Frankia and how she had learned and honed her skills as a healer. As the conversation continued, you could see the surprise in the redhead's eyes when she recognised Aethelstan among the men, and you couldn't blame her. 

You remember how King Edward's bastard son was taken under Uhtred's protection and raised among you: the child knew nothing of the dangers of the world, spending his early years in a monastery, his cocoon shielded from the outside world. Most of the time he ended up in your and Sihtric's care, and together with Cynlaef you raised them as your sons, the boys calling your own their little siblings. But now they were grown men, and you looked at them with pride and emotion: you and Sihtric still had your own children to love and cherish, but you would be lying if you said you missed those moments.

"This is Sihtric's wife," Uhtred said to Eadith, pointing to you with the mug in his hands, "and all of her and Sihtric's little pack that populate this town."

"Five children can hardly populate Rumcofa, Uhtred," you replied with a smile, your fingers gently stroking Signe's hair.

"Perhaps the gods will be on our side and bless our union again," Sihtric added, his hand slipping from your shoulder to your flat stomach. It was no secret that you both longed for another child, but you both knew that you were not the young and fresh couple you once were, and your ageing bodies made that dream distant and uncertain. 

"Perhaps you should ask your gods for a little nudge," Finan snorted lightly, holding Ingrith by the waist and your son Kare in his arms. In the midst of the laughter, you could see Finan and Sihtric exchanging a knowing look that surprised you, but did not carry much weight.

The conversation continued until sundown, when the sun set, giving way to the moon, and the orange of the sky was replaced by a deep blue dotted with stars.

As you entered your hut, you threw your cloak and boots onto the nearest chair, tossed your hair aside and tried to undo the laces of your dress. Sihtric was the last to enter, closing the door behind him, unbuckling his belt and placing his weapons against the nearest wall. 

When you turned to look at him, you noticed that something was wrong: everything was quiet, too quiet for a family with five children. You would expect chaos after a day at the alehouse, your husband running over his children in a playful catch, or just you and Sihtric sitting by the fire playing with them before tucking them into bed. But they were nowhere to be seen.

“Where is our little pack?” you asked with a hint of worry in your voice, frustration rising as you struggled to untie your laces.

"With Finan and Ingrith," Sihtric replied casually, his voice dropping as he approached from behind. Had you listened more closely, you would have heard a bit of hoarseness in his voice. "I asked them to look after our children for the night." 

The Dane put his hands on your waist and pulled you gently from behind, pressing your back against his chest. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, his facial hair tingling your skin as he planted soft kisses on the side of your neck. 

"I would have preferred to be informed of this idea of yours, Sihtric," you sighed, lifting your head to give him better access to your neck. You felt a shiver run down your spine, a strange but familiar warmth blooming in your lower abdomen: you could not remember the last time Sihtric had made your head spin and your body tremble with pleasure, the sounds of your moans echoing in your head.

“Is it so wrong to surprise you, little wife?” he whispered in your ear. 

His teeth slowly grazed the skin of your neck. It was only meant as a tease, a way to have you fully entranced by him. Your words began to come out in broken, stuttered responses as you tried to think of anything coherent. 

"Help me undo these laces and you will see how wrong you are," you replied courtly and sharply breathed, feigning offence in that remaining moment of lucidity. But your veil of resoluteness soon fell as you felt his rough hands cross your back, one of his tattooed fingers tracing your spine in a fluid motion. And as you sighed at the sensation of him touching the laces of your dress, a loud gasp escaped your mouth as you heard the muffled sound of a tear, the movement so unexpected that you lost your balance and were forced to place your hands on the table.

"Ah, m-my dress!" you hissed, your eyelids half open at the feel of his mouth kissing and nibbling your exposed skin, from the nape of your neck to your shoulders. "You tore one of your gifts-"

"I will buy you another one," Sihtric cut you off with a low murmur, savouring every inch of you with his mouth, "I will buy you the finest gown in all of Northumbria, if you allow me," the Dane continued, working his way up from your shoulder to your earlobe, nibbling gently, "but you know I will always prefer you without your clothes on."

All hope of maintaining self-control was lost when his hands began to squeeze your breasts as he sank his teeth into your tender flesh. You moaned loudly, your mind clouded with too much pleasure as you pressed against his body: Sihtric let out a low, guttural moan as he felt his throbbing cock pressed against your arse, sinking his teeth deeper into your shoulders. 

He had waited too long for this moment, and had he had the chance, he would have stripped you naked and humped you on the kitchen table. But in his eyes you were his queen and goddess, ready to throw away his pleasure to satisfy yours first.

Instead, Sihtric spun you around and sat you on the table while he quickly revealed your breasts, slightly swollen from all the time you had spent carrying and feeding your children. His lips trailed down your throat, his tongue tasting the saltiness of your skin as he finally reached for your breast, his mouth enveloping and sucking gently as he cupped the other one in his hand, teasing your hardening nipple with his fingers. Shrieks and whimpers were your only sounds, accompanied by your soft moans as you rolled your eyes back, your back arching as you surrendered to the pleasure of the moment, the warmth in your abdomen spreading uncontrollably. 

You could feel your core pulsing with excitement, a burning sensation that felt like sweet torture to you, loud sighs mixed with your screams as you desperately searched for something to relieve you. The wetness between your legs only increased as you felt one of Sihtric's hands push up your skirt, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh as they reached your warm cunt. 

"Already so wet for me, my love?" the Dane asked in a hoarse voice, teasing your core with a few strokes before pushing a finger inside you, the intrusion unexpected but pleasurable at the same time. You almost forgot how thick his fingers were as he stroked inside you, how often he let your body float and how much your legs trembled at his touch. 

Babbling and rambling words were the only thing you could say, your rational self temporarily gone. His name, called out like a ritual chant in a breathless voice, was the only word you could manage, your low throaty voice reaching his ears like a distant melody, frustrating him as his cock grew impatient in his breeches. But he knew he would postpone his pleasure for much longer, not before he made you squirm and scream his name loudly until your lungs were empty of air.

"How much I missed this," Sihtric whispered, leaning his head towards you, "how much I missed us." 

"Sihtric," you sighed as his lips met yours, the kiss far from the gentle one you had shared in the morning. It was a needy, bruising kiss that told a story of longing touch and pent-up passion, of two souls locking their primary desires for the sake of their family. 

Sihtric's tongue parted, the tip finding an entrance into your parted lips. You allowed him to enter your mouth, your tongues meeting in a frenzied dance as you swallowed another loud moan and felt another finger penetrate you. You inadvertently moved your hips towards him, moaning at how perfectly his thick fingers stretched inside you, his wriggles teasing and rubbing your tight walls. 

Your husband could feel your hips moving frantically against his hand, your arse slapping against his open palm and your walls tightening against his fingers, a signal that your climax was reaching its breaking point. But he had no intention of letting you finish like that: he needed to remember how you tasted, to savour you and drink you all up. 

He gently pushed you back, wanting to lay you down and bury his head in your thighs. But you quickly grabbed his wrist and stopped him, a frustrated moan escaping his lips.

"Not here," you murmured breathlessly, your body still trembling from the pleasure you had just received. For as much as you could not wait to release your own excitement, you would never let him take you on the table. 

Sihtric's impatience grew as he scooped you up in his arms, carried you in front of the fire and laid you on the warm furs. Your lips entwined again in hungry and lustful kisses as you both undressed, Sihtric tearing your dress to shreds while you removed his with gentle movements, letting them fall with a soft thud. 

You both stood naked by the fire, his lips moving quickly down, tasting and biting your skin from throat to belly, until he spread your legs in desperation, his head trapped between your thighs. His breath was hot against your folds, the heat from his mouth so pleasant and arousing that you would have closed your legs and found some friction had Sihtric not spread them with his hands. He teased your wet core with the tip of his tongue, but the taste of you was so intoxicating that all restraint was lost. First a lick, then his tongue penetrated your folds, devouring you like prey after a day's hunting. Your head began to spin, moans and whimpers escaping your lips as your fingers trailed over his curls, tugging wildly at them, causing the Dane to grunt and moan in return. 

You reached your peak quickly, coming on his tongue as he eagerly lapped up your release. Your thighs trembled under his grip, which caused Sihtric to chuckle next to your folds. 

“Good girl, such a pretty wife I have,” he said quietly with a kiss to each thigh. “Are you willing to give me one more?” 

Before you could even answer, he allowed you to taste yourself on his lips as he positioned himself between your legs, his cock twitching painfully as his own arousal desperately needed to be released. Keeping your legs spread, he spat on his tip and after a few strokes, he positioned himself at your entrance and thrust into you in one swift motion. It took all his willpower not to fuck you at speed: instead he chose a slow approach, his length stretching inside you like a sweet torture. He was slow at first, creating a careful rhythm, knowing how sensitive you were.

“Do not be so gentle now, husband,” you said softly as you leaned up. Your lips ghosted across his chest, then his collarbone, creating a trail of chills as you went. His thrusts faltered a bit as he shuddered with each kiss. “I am not some fragile flower, I can take it.”

Your leg wrapped around his hips, allowing him deeper inside you as you angled your hips up. One hand gripped your thigh, holding your leg tightly around him, while the other braced itself on the furs, holding his weight. A string of curse came out with every thrust, now deeper and harder. 

The crackling of the fire could not hide the vocal chaos you two were making, the room filled with your whimpers and moans, Sihtric panting and grunting as he fucked you deep and hard, hissing under his teeth every time you tugged at his curls wildly. One of his hands moved from your hips to your flat stomach, the circling movements gentle in contrast to his rough movements.

“How good would it be to see you round with my pup again,” he whispered with an animalistic growl, never faltering his pace as you both rocked against each other’s hips.

“I would like to, husband” you whined, arching your back and head as he hit a sensitive spot. “But I am afraid my body could not bear another pup inside me,” 

Upon hearing your words, Sihtric lowered over you, kissing the contour of your jaw gently, “Never underestimate the workings of the gods, my love,” he whispered with a hoarse voice, “We do not know what-”

A choked moan escaped his throat, grunting against your neck as he quickened the pace once more, his own climax on the verge of the release. The grip on your hips tightened into a bruised vice, your walls clenching around him, eagerly awaiting his release.

"Fuck, please," you let out a sharp breath as you clung to him, your nails digging into his back until they left scratches. Your senses were sharpened by the growing wave of pleasure, leaving you temporarily stunned as you felt your own release coming. 

"Come to me, my queen," was the gruff voice of Sihtric you heard, praising you and whispering honeyed words before you both came simultaneously, wetting his cock with your fluids as your walls milked him of all his seed. When he pulled himself out, you both collapsed on the furs, both a terrible mess, but neither of you wanted to leave each other's embrace. You remained entwined for minutes that seemed an eternity, your fingers intertwined as you opened your eyes.

"Sihtric," you called out breathlessly, feeling the Dane's head rise against your neck, "What if the gods do not bless us with another pup?" 

Your question made Sihtric smile fondly, his rough hand resting on your cheeks as your lips met in a tender kiss.

"Then I will thank them for giving me a beautiful wife and five loving children to love and cherish with my whole heart."

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it!

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