Submitted by @owlespresso
Relationship: Wol!Reader/Thancred
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Deciding to take the advice of a dear friend, the Warrior of Light adventures across Norvrandt to explore the land with new eyes. Il Mheg is one such beautiful place you yearn to see, though equally dangerous in more ways than one would expect: beware of the pixies pranks and, more than anything else, donât eat anything that they offer you.
You unfortunately fail in the second part of that warning.
-
Il Mheg is a wonder in its own right, a splendid land dotted with vibrant color that extended to not only the flowers, but those who lived there.Â
You consider it a great honor to be able to traverse the land among the native people, the fae who generously allow them to pass through and visit. You were immediately curious about their culture, including the wide variety of colorful foods.
It became abundantly clear that they used flowers in several of their staple dishes, obvious from the way vendors flaunted them on the road and in the streets.Â
The sun shone bright over Il Mheg as you wandered about, entranced by the quaint mushroom houses and bustling foot traffic. It was only a half-hour until noon, when youâd planned to rendezvous with Thancred in the center of the settlement, which left plenty of time for you to explore and indulge in some of the local treats!
Gil ready in hand, you trotted up to one of the fae vendors. The brief conversation you had passed by in an admittedly pleasant blur. They spoke so quickly that it was difficult to keep track of what they were saying, but you could only assume they were glad to see a paying customer.
The pastry that was shoved into your hands moments later was a visual feast of color. Pink pastry dough lovingly fashioned into several flowers was nestled against dollops of mint green-tinged whipped cream, and the entire thing was covered in crystalized sugar. All of it was wrapped up in a fluffy, cone-shaped crepe.
It was quite a sight to see, so glamorous that you almost didnât want to eat.
Then, your stomach rumbled.Â
Needless to say, the succulent pastry was scarfed down in about five seconds. Chomping down the last bite of the delicious treat left you wanting for more, but you restrained yourself in favor of minding the time. You didnât want to be late for your meeting with Thancred. It had been awhile since youâd last seen him, and your concern for his well-being and eagerness to see him far outweigh your need for another crepe.
And thatâs how you landed here.
While making haste to the Aetheryte, you were unable to stop marveling at your surroundings.
It seems as though youâre were early, though. Thancredâs nowhere in sight, leaving to your own devices. Well, at least thereâs plenty to look! Your gaze flutters around the arera, taking in the pure mystique of it, catching bits and pieces of passing conversations.Â
In the middle of hearing a faeâs qualms about the recent rains, something peculiar begins to rise within you. A steady, building heat that causes sweat to gather on your brow. Maybe it had just gotten hotter out? But that did little to explain the mounting arousal between your thighs. Your absentmindedly rub your thighs together, frowning when it did little to alleviate the tension.
Your lower stomach begins to tingle, a warmth bubbling in your body and making your cheeks much too hot.
This is unlike you. You know your body, and you know that this isnât normal.Â
Panic begins to set its claws into you as you desperately try to figure out whatâs wrong, bouncing on your heels to the side of the clearing, unseeing gaze fixed on the gleaming Aetheryte.
Should you try to find a healer? Maybe ask aroundâgods no, youâd die of embarrassment!
Heading back to your inn room seemed ideal. Teleporting shouldnât take too much out of you, but Thancredâ
The sound of your name brings your thoughts to a cold, dead stop.
âThere you are,â Thancred says, unmistakably happy to see you. Your heart jumps in your chest, the steady rhythm pounding in tandem with the thrum of arousal in between your legs. The afternoon sunlight catches on his stark, white hair and your pulse jumps, sings in relief at the sight of him, âMy apologies. I mixed up where we were supposed to meetâwas wandering around downtown like a lost fool.â
âOh, itâs fine!â you assure him hastily, and itâs impossible to stop your gaze from running over his face. Thereâs the ever beguiling angle of his jaw, the curve of his lipsâwhere your attention lingers for much too long before flickering downwards, âI wasnât waiting for too long!â You get to the firm shape of his chest, outlined lovingly by his tight armor, before getting ahold of yourself and looking him in the eyes.
Which, is a bad decision, because oh gods, heâs looking at you and you suddenly feel like some hapless, giddy school child experiencing puppy love for the first timeâbesides the mounting, insistent need coiling inside of you.
âHow blessed I am to be forgiven so easily,â the lavish croon of his voice makes your spine prickle, âCome along, we have all of Il Mehg to explore. Weâll have plenty of time to catch up on the way, Iâm sure.âÂ
He gives your shoulder a firm pat, and even with the frustrating barrier of cloth between you, you feel another shock of need.
âY-Yep! That sounds fi-fine,â you jump from your standing position and begin to scurry in the direction of the western exit, which leads out to a large, welcoming field of flowers with a few large, scattered trees.Â
Thereâs the thumping of Thancredâs boots behind you, and you donât need to look at him to know heâs eyeing you with contemplative concern.Â
Youâre more interested in the idea of being chasedâThancred chasing you, being down on you from behind, pinning you to the groundâ
No, no, bad. If you keep thinking like that, youâll lose your wits and actually do something you might regret!
âAre you feeling alright?â he inquires as he matches your pace. You are very decidedly not alright, caught between cancelling this entire outing entirely, asking him to fuck you senseless behind one of those trees, or continuing to weather the strange, mounting symptoms until the dayâs end. The latter option sounds the most unappealing. âYouâre usually not soâŠâ
âIâm fine,â you say, too quickly, too firmly. Thereâs a nervous bounce in your step as the both of you pass underneath the pearly gate and into the wilderness. Distantly, you wonder if one of the flowers from that delectable pastry is responsible for this, and if so, wonder which kind it is, âJust, uhm, feeling a little off today, is all. Itâs nothing I c-canât sleep off.â
âIf you say so,â he says slowly, skepticism clear as day in his voice, âSo! Where would you like to head first? Thereâs Longmirror LakeâI hear the massive ruins of an ancient city lay underneath it! Of course, thereâs also the impossible to miss castle in the middle of LongmirrorâŠâ
He goes onto list several possible spots you could visit, outlining the best parts of each, but you have a hard time parsing his words when youâre so focused on the rhythmic sound of his voice, coupled with whatever ailment insists on ruining your day. Had it stayed to a minimal level, you likely would have been able to ignore itâbut your knees are getting weak and the subtle movement of your clothes against your skin is suddenly more grating than ever before. The overwhelming scent from your floral surroundings only contributes to your dizziness.
Thancred says your name a second time, and shakes his hand in front of your face, jolting you from a daze you didnât even know youâd been in.Â
âAny of those are fineâwhichever you want,â you bring a hand up to rub at the bridge of your nose. Your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth.Â
âAlright, weâll head to the lake, then. Itâs the closest one,â fortunately, he has no qualms about making the decision. Youâre hyper conscious of the air against your skin, your clothes weighing down your body, clinging with sweat. The scent of the flowers, Thancredâs warm presence beside you. Your fingers curl into tight fists, palms much too hot and slick.
âOkay,â you say and your voice is strained.
Itâs eating at you. Itâs eating at you and you canât stand it. With every step, you feel the moisture thatâs gathered on your undergarments rub back against your cunt. Your gaze flicks to look at him, fixing on the angle of his jawline, on the elegant shape of his nose.
âIs there something I can help you with?â he turns to look at you, lips upturned in a slight, amused grin. Prick, stupid prick and his perfect faceâyouâre suddenly stuck by the idea of your thighs clenched on either side of his head, his tongue dragging up and down your clit, lips working relentlessly at your cunt while his hands grip you tight. You take a sudden, deep inhale and you realize that youâve stopped in place.
He repeats your name and suddenly, heâs much closer, leaning into your space and narrowing his eyes. You wish you were anywhere but here, right now, because all you can do is stare at his lips with wide, hungry eyes and hold your breath.
âPardon my assumption, but you certainly donât look alright to me. Youâre not acting like yourself and your pupils are the size of dinner plates,â he says. He leans in and presses his forehead against your own to check your temperature, and his innocent concern seals both your fates.
Your mind gives out.
Whatever youâd been poisoned with possesses you for that one moment and before you could even realize it, you seal your lips against his own.
Oh gods, oh godsâ Your brain ceases to work as panic wars with your ailment, and your body all but crumples into his arms, face pressed to his chest. He catches you, of course he does, because heâs Thancred. Heâs Thancred, your Thancredâ
âOh, my god,â your voice is a mere whisper against his chest. Your left hand presses against his abdomen and the thundering, agonizing arousal reacts instantly, âIâmâIâm so sorry!â
You push away from him. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Youâd ruined everything! You should have just said you werenât feeling well You aim to take a step back, but the ankle where you put your weight slips on the dirt and. Panic and dizziness wind together and jumble your senses, your vibrant floral surroundings passing you in a blur as you start to fall. This is it, you sob internally, Iâm going to die after looking like an idiot and kissing him out of nowhereâ
Then thereâs a firm grip on your wrist and youâre yanked to your feet. The momentum from the tug carries you forward and into his chest. Your face presses into his armor. He smells good, cologne and gunpowder and spice. You donât want to move, not even to quell your feverish, unrelenting symptoms.
âAlright,â his voice rumbles deep in his chest and you can feel it, âItâs incredibly clear that somethingâs amiss. It would be in your best interests to come clean,â his arm tucks around your waist, pulling you tighter against him and your knees just about give out. He curses, letting go of your wrist and wrapping his other arm around you in a clumsy hold against his body, âTwelve, we should get you to a healer.â
Your hard nipples press tight against the constraining fabric of your cloak and it takes every ounce of your restraint to not start grinding up against him. Your body cries out for it, weeps for it, begs, but Thancred is your friend. Thancred is your friend and he deserves to know whatâs going on.
âI ate a pastry back in town and I think it made me sick!â you urgently inform him, âI was just fine before that!â
âThat explains it,â Thancred says with a sigh, his lips so close to your face, âMost of the plants here have⊠special side effects. The fae have lived here so long that theyâve developed immunities to most, if not all of them. It seems that the vendor who sold you that treat left out that particular detail,â you just about collapse with relief. Thancred knows whatâs happening. Smart Thancred, strong Thancredâ
Breed, breed, fuck, mateâ
âThat being said, itâs not a good idea for you to be out and about like this. We should get you somewhere safe,â Oh no. Does that mean heâs going to drop you off somewhere and leave? No, no, thatâs the worst thing that could happen right now! Especially after going so long without seeing him, especially when you need him now more than ever.
âDonât go!â the desperation in your voice comes as a surprise to even yourself, âI donâtâI wantââ
Your frustrations mount as you try to articulate what you want, what you need.
âYou want me to help you,â he spells your thoughts out and you nod, relieved that you donât have to articulate them yourself. Thancred will take care of it for you.Â
He doesnât say anything else after that, likely deep in thought or in conflict.
âI trust you,â you whimper, âIâve always trusted you, Thancred,â it pains you to tear your face away from his chest, but you tilt your head to look up at him and donât regret it. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted.
Itâs so much, so much, so much and the pure amount of sensory assault makes you begin to tear up. You tilt your head back down to hide your face, hands balling in the fabric of his jacket. Your knees start to tremble again, cunt sopping and body screaming out for his hands on your chest, ass, back, anywhere!
âShh, itâs alright,â Thancred hushes, and the bestial part of your brain coos in content, so delighted heâs here and that heâs taking care of you, âI have my reservations about this. Are you sure?â
âYes!â you say, leaving not even a second of silence, âPlease, I need you! Iâve wanted you even before this!â your voice trembles with the weight of what youâd just said and pitches with desperation. Throwing caution to the wind, you continue, âThancred, please. I wouldnât ask this of anyone else,â if youâre going to confess your carefully guarded feelings, you might as well go all-out. Consequences be damned! You can deal with them when you can actually think straight, âIâ
He ducks down and cuts you off with a kiss.
It starts off as only a slight, gentle press, merely testing the waters, before he tilts his head for a deeper angle. Your eyes slide shut and your entire body loosens in a show of submission, more than happy to let him lead the way. His fingers curl into your hair, holding you where he wants you. His tongue rubs against your lips and for a moment, you donât respond, too pleasure hazed.Â
He gives your hip a light slap and you gasp, giving his tongue ample room to feel every inch of your mouth and tongue in a dexterous dance that makes you glad heâs there to hold you up.
Your shaking hands reach up to clutch his shoulders, feeling the broad muscle underneath his form-fitting armor. Your bodies press tight together, and you cling to him even when the need for air forces you apart. You gasp for it, dizzy and surrounded by him, him, him. His firm grip around your waist, his broad chest nuzzled tight to you, his scent. Heâs perfect and heâs the only thing keeping you on your feet.
A thrill rolls up your spine at the knowledge that he can manhandle you so easily.
âCome this way, dear,â he murmurs, and his face moves away. Your protesting whine is met by a low chuckle as he carries you from the road and into a nearby grove of trees, with thick shrubbery and branches. Heâs talking, but youâre not listening, eyes lowered as you press your face into his shoulder again and take a deep inhale.
Itâs impossible to keep track of where heâs bringing you, but in only a few moments you feel your back settle against a tree trunk. Vivid, pink leaves loom above your heads, the sweet smell of the blooms more overwhelming than ever.
He presses you in tight, weight covering you entirely. Satisfying, deep, contact, contact, contact. You feel the swell of his chest, the press of his clothed cock against your sopping core.
One of his hands cradles your cheek and you automatically tilt your head into it, exposing as much of your neck as possible. The roughened material of his glove grates slightly against your skin. You want them off, but your coherency sizzles away when his lips dance over the skin of your neck. He plants a vast array of fluttering kisses over the unmarked flesh, making you squirm and whine. He shushes you again, tongue laving over the crook of your neck, before he nips there.
You buckle again, falling onto the knee he manages to shove between your legs just in time.
âFuck!â you cry, eyes screwing shut at the oversensitivity. Sweat slicks your forehead and you feebly flop back against the trunk. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as he palms a breast, reminding you that thereâs still an awful, cloth barrier preventing you from feeling every inch of him.
âCan you come just from this?â he inquires, much to unaffected. His knee begins to grind back and forth against you and you ride it, pressure and friction so good, too good against your sopping folds.
âThancred,â you breathe, burying your face into his shoulder. Itâs all sweet ambrosia, a devilish, intoxicating cocktail of sensations that numbs your mind to everything but the here and now, whittles your world down to only him.
His hand strays from the back of your head and grabs at your shirt, deftly undoing the buttons. You help him, throwing i haphazardly to the ground.
Your hips roll and buck desperately against his built thigh, head tilting back, back arching as he squeezes a tit. His fingers grasp the edge of your bra and yank it down to free your breasts. The material of his glove is still coarse against your hardened nipple, but itâs contact and thatâs all that matters.
Then he ducks down, starting to lavish your chest in attention. Your dragged back under the mindless, euphoric haze. His tongue rolls around your untouched nipple.
âThancred,â his name emerges from your lips as a warbled moan, and he hums in response, wrapping his lips around the perked nub and giving a firm suck. âAh!â you downright squeal, panting as his fingers drip to your trousers, toying with the waistband,.
Your hands scramble and claw against his armor, suddenly possessed by the urge to see him just as bare as you are, to press against his firm torso.Â
âOff,â the demand comes out as a weak whimper, but he obliges. One of his hands reaches and starts to undo the numerous straps over his chest, while his mouth stays busy. His lips pop from your nipple with a lewd, wet noise but he only moves to the next, devoting his free hand to tugging your trousers down.Â
Your movements are hurried and manic as you help him, shoving both your bottoms and undergarments off at once.
âOh,â he says, your eagerness seeming to surprise him. From there, your hands fly to his chest, helping him out of that tight, but agonizingly complex armor, âMy, arenât you eager?â
âWear something thatâs easier to take off,â you grumble. The thrall of the heat still has you in its firm grip, loosening your verbal filter and clouding your decisions. Off, off, off, is all you want. It doesnât matter that youâre out in the open, that anyone could stumble upon your tryst at any moment. Thereâs no Eorzea, no missions, thereâs nothing that needs to be done besides him.
âIâll make sure to give that a try,â Thancred draws, and the top piece of his armor falls to the ground, revealing⊠another, admittedly tight-fitting shirt. You give a hiss of annoyance and he chuckles, grabbing the hem and taking it over his head, gently depositing it next to his armor. While he does that, you kneel, fingers greedily grabbing at his best, âTwelve, you really work fast when you want to.â
You donât honor him with a reply as you finally undo his best, and grab his trousers, yanking them to the ground. The sight of his still-clothed bulge greets you, and youâre immensely pleased to know heâs as invested in this encounter as you are.
Unabashedly, you press your face against him, nuzzle your cheek into it. His breath hitches and you feel a rush of satisfaction, until his hands grab your shoulders. You allow him to tug you upwards, giving a startled squeak when he envelops you in a passionate kiss, the kind that makes your knees weak and your lower stomach feel gooey, hot want.
His cock presses against your stomach and you canât help but wonder how itâll feel inside of you.Â
âFollow my lead,â he breathes against your neck and you shudder merely at the feel of it. His calloused, still gloved hands grab at your thighs, twining them around his hips, âMy, my, youâre already so excited,â he purrs as his cock dips against your soaked cunt. You just about sob, eyes shut tight, head tilting back against the trunk. Heâs so close, so agonizingly close to where you need him the most!
âJust fuck me already,â you beg, plead, on the verge of tears.
He hums in affirmation, bringing his weeping cock close to your entrance. The slow slide inside you burns with both pain and pleasure, leaving you a heady, listless mess. Your hips roll into him, a feeble attempt to get as much pleasure as possible out of it.
Whatever concoction youâd ingested made you wet enough for this to work without proper lubricant, thank twelve. You wouldnât have been able to wait for him to procure some.
Your trembling hands grab at his shoulders, tighter and tighter until he finally hilts within you, pelvises nestled together. A low moan unfurls in his chest and the desire in you lights anew, because finally, finally, heâs going to be just as affected and lost to ecstasy as you are.
âYou can move!â you assure him, hips already beginning to twitch.
âTwelve, you feel good,â he says and swallows, throat bobbing. You follow the motion of it with keen concentration, leaning up to kiss his hot skin.
Then, he starts to move. His hips draw back and shutter forward, and you experimentally roll to meet him, mouthing absentmindedly at his chest. Your lips press against a nipple, tongue rolling over the hardening bud.
The pace picks up, and each time he slides back inside, his pelvis bumps your clit. You bite your lip as your nerves fray, a hand reaching down to rub at the bundle of nerves while the other wraps around his neck and clings.
âMake noise for me,â he says, âNo one else is around to hear,â and that encouragement is all you need.Â
He coaxes moan after moan, whimper and whimper out of you, muffling them with his own lips as he kisses you over and over. His tongue laves against your own, swallowing your pathetic little sounds. Your back slams against the trunk with each thrust, and the violence of it somehow sends your further into the brink.
Your eyelids flutter spasmodically and your heartbeat thunders in your ears, cunt throbbing with oversensitivity. Something molten hot and delightful blooms inside of you and youâre over the edge, cumming around his cock with little more than a minute of encouragement.Â
Your juices spill around him and onto the grass beneath. You distantly hope none of it gets on his boots, which he hadnât bothered to take off.Â
Youâre limp in his arms while he continues to fuck you, simply chasing his own orgasm. The idea of becoming little more than a sex toy for him is more arousing than it should be, but you donât get to think further on it between his erratic, urgent thrusting.
âFuckââ he snarls, low and deep as he pulls out of you. Cum shoots onto your stomach, warm and sticky and utterly fucking blessed.
Arms still around you, he staggers back and drops to his bottom, likely smooshing a few flowers in the process. He brings you with him, still seated on his cock even as he flops onto his back. Your face presses into his sweat-slicked chest and you wrinkle your nose, moving onto his side. His cock, still half hard, twitches inside of you and your breath hitches and the feeling.
The air is still, quiet with the exception of the chirping, vibrant wildlife.
âThancred,â you murmur after several long moments, âWeâre probably squishing the flowersâand we still have to see the castle! Gods, Iâm so sorry,â With your problem taken care of, the reality of whatâs just happened finally returns, as does your coherency. Gods above, you canât believe youâve done this!
Your brace one of your hands against the ground and you attempt to shift off of himâonly to be tugged back down by an insistent arm around your waist. His cock has grown soft inside of you, but the fact that it still lingers makes you tingle with something warm and heady.
âNo, stay here,â he grumbles, âThe flowers will regrow. The castle will be there for the next millennia or longer.â
âButââ
âYouâve exhausted me, utterly and completely,â he teases, turning his head to kiss your forehead, âSo indulge me.â
âOkay,â relief is palpable in your voice as you relent, settling against his side. Your eyelids lower, gaze absentmindedly sweeping over your surroundings, taking in the vivid blooms, the rich brown trunks, andâŠÂ
âThancred, where have our clothes gone?â












