#merman brahms | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deady-nightshade · 2 years

Text

The Little Merman AU (Brahms Heelshire x F!Reader)

**Important Notes: Brahms is the merman and reader is the brave princess. Reader is Malcolm’s sister (via marriage). This story is a combination of Disney’s ‘The Little Mermaid’, along with Hans Christian Anderson's ‘The Little Mermaid’. I imagine the clothes they wear to look similar to that of Ariel and Eric from Disney (in terms of style).

Description: An unwanted party ends with you, the princess, falling overboard, only to be captured by a scarred merman, who has decided that you were his. But two clever guards were able to rescue you, causing the merman, Prince Brahms to resort to magic in order to find you. But nothing is as it seems, and the humanized merman soon learns of your upcoming wedding, one that you don't want. With the threat of his princess being taken from him, Brahms has to resort to drastic means in order to keep you by his side.

Disclaimer/Warnings: NSFW, oral sex (female receiving), virgin reader and Brahms, arranged/loveless marriage, magic, princess reader, merman Brahms, mentions of replacing son with a doll, drinking, shipwrecks, voyeurism, Brahms receives a sex education from the Kama Sutra, male masturbation, blood, murder (child and adults), possessive Brahms. King Malcolm (who happens to be your step-brother), Sister-in-Law Greta, abusive general Cole, age gap (implied, but not specified), brief domestic violence, manipulative Brahms, Reader shares a bath with Greta, talk of trying for children.

Word Count: 11.5K

**Reader has long hair in this story. Other than that, the looks are not specified.**

**Brahms’ parents have the following names: Audrey and Edward.**

** Fun-Fact: One of the names for sea foam is Spume. The more you know.**

Prince Brahms swam on his back, staring up at the twinkling stars. The blue water was dyed black with the color of night, and the creamy reflection of the full moon rippled as the water shifted. The mask he normally wore was pushed to the side, allowing him to feel the cool breeze upon his scarred face. His green tail languidly traced the surface of the water and he sighed. He was bored and lonely, and those turbulent emotions caused him to sneak out of the palace.

Everyone in the kingdom was scared of him. When they caught sight of the masked prince, the people would swim away, leaving him alone. He hated it. All because he killed his previous childhood playmates. He snorted in frustration and dipped back into the water. It wasn’t his fault that they refused to play by his rules.

He resurfaced a few seconds later and glanced up at the moon. He was jealous of the oversized rock. No matter what face it presented, the stars never left its side. Τhat’s all Brahms wanted: Someone that would accept him for who he was, dark flaws and all, and someone would stay forever by his side. Was he asking too much?

The waves changed direction and Brahms looked away from the moon. Something was coming.

He slunk further into the water and watched with narrowed eyes as a large ship came into view. It was impressive. The sails were the color of clouds and the mast pierced the black sky. A large, gold flag snapped and he could make out the design of a white flower…it looked like a rose.

Music could be heard, along with the cheers of a large crowd. Curiosity got the better of the scarred merman, and he swam closer to the boat. A few ropes hung precariously off the side of the ship and the merman leapt out of the water and grabbed ahold of them.

He pulled himself up and sat on the polished sill of a large, circular window, and he peered up at the deck, being mindful to keep hidden within the shadows.

Humans of all sizes, shapes and ethnicities were celebrating. Drinks were being served, food was being eaten, and a band of musicians played a cheerful tune. He watched in amazement as the men played their instruments and he couldn’t help but wonder what the instruments were called. He had never seen such peculiar things.

His mask slide down his face and he settled around his neck. He absentmindedly took it off and set it down on the deck. He inched closer, almost daring to move out of the shadows when something big and hairy ran at him.

Brahms jumped back and growled when he saw the grey and white haired creature staring at him. He had remembered Emily showing him a similar creature. It was a dog if he wasn’t mistaken. He hated dogs. Well, he hated all animals.

The mutt grabbed a hold of the prince’s mask and began running away.

“Get back here!” Brahms hissed, reaching a hand out to stop the mangy beast. But it was too late, the dog was too far from his reach.

Anger bubbled in the prince’s chest and his mood instantly soured. Memories of Emily came to mind and the merman dug his sharp fingers into the hull of the ship, splintering the dark wood.

She was supposed to love him, but the brat refused to follow him into the ocean. He had tried to drag her into the waters, but she had panicked and threw her lantern at him. The flames caught his face and he dragged Emily under the water. He was so angry with her that he had not realized what he did until it was too late. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her lifeless eyes staring up at him through the water.

Brahms was pulled from his dark, spiraling thoughts by a crystal clear voice.

“What do you have there, Max?”

The merman snapped his head up and he froze when he saw the most beautiful woman. You.

The mask was heavy in your hand your hand and you frowned. What was a mask doing on the ship? You ran a hand over the cheek and narrowed your brow in thought. It wasn’t made of plaster, but something else…something denser and smoother.

“Cool mask,” Malcolm said, momentarily startling you.

You spun on your heel and smiled at your step-brother. “The captains’s dog found it.”

Malcolm laughed and rested his hand on your shoulder. “Come on, join the party. It’s being held in your honor after all.”

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t want this party.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want, Y/N.” You looked up at you brother and noticed the solemn look on his face. “This party was made so that your engagement could be announced.”

Your blood ran cold and you bit your lip. The only reason you agreed to this marriage was to save your kingdom from another pointless war. You didn’t love the man — you loathed him with every fiber of your being.

He was Greta’s ex-fiancé , and he was a cruel man who loved to drink and use his hands in place of words. Greta, your lovely sister-in-law, had been lucky enough to escape his bruising clutch, but as fate would have it, you inadvertently took her place. Fate was cruel.

“I’m still looking for a way out, Y/N.” Malcolm said in a hushed whisper. “But General Cole isn’t budging.”

“He only wants me because you took Greta from him.”

“You don’t think that I know that?”

A silence fell between you and the band began another song. Malcolm rubbed his jaw and sighed. “I’m doing everything that I can, Y/N. Just wait a little longer and try to have faith in your big brother, yeah?”

He kissed your cheek and left you to your thoughts. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves and you walked to the other side of the deck. The ocean breeze ruffled your blue skirt and you leaned against the railing. The waves were beginning to pick up and you watched as the water collided against the hull. It was soothing.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but somehow Greta ended up pulling you back into the fray of the party. Glass after glass of wine was served to you and you drank the sweet alcohol down, not sparing even one drop. Your sour mood began to brighten and you were pleasantly buzzed when Malcolm announced your engagement. The news made Greta furious and the woman chased after her husband. It still amazed you that the two of them ruled the kingdom.

Fat raindrops fell from the sky and you turned your face upwards. Was the universe crying for you? Hot tears soon joined the raindrops and you ran towards the deck’s railing once more. Bile burned your esophagus and you panted. You didn’t want this…you didn’t want any of it.

As the party neared the end, the coastal storm was at its peak. Everyone was resting in the cabin, but Max somehow wiggled his way back onto the deck. After securing your shawl, you slipped out of the door and chased after him.

The wind was strong and your hair fell from its ribbon enclosure, and you watched as the blue fabric was carried away by the wind. Long locks obscured your view and you tripped over a rope, causing you to fall against the railing. Your hand slipped on the wood and you fell backwards. You screamed.

The water was cold and it saturated your skirt, which caused the garment to act as an anchor. Your head was barely above the water and you desperately tried to undo the sash that held your skirt up. All you could see were the choppy waves and the bitter salt water filled your mouth. It was becoming too much too quickly.

Your head felt heavy from the wine and you didn’t have the strength anymore to fight against the ocean. This was it. You were going to die. But that was just it, you didn’t want to die. Your head went under and you tried in vain to claw your way back to the surface.

Something firm wrapped around your booted foot and you began kicking harder, determined to free yourself from what you figured was seaweed. Your lungs burned from the absence of oxygen and black dots began to cloud your eyesight. Your arms ceased to move, your hair floated upwards, and your mouth opened, allowing what little air you had left to escape.

Consciousness began to ebb away and the ocean began to pull your body downward. A large hand wrapped itself in your hair and you felt your head being pulled back. With the last bit of strength that you had, you opened your eyes. In front of you was a man. His hazel eyes were locked onto you. Dark curls floated around him, making it look like he was wearing a dark halo, and thick scars decorated the right side of his face. He was beautiful.

As soon as your eyes fluttered close, Brahms pulled you towards him, wrapping his arm around your waist. He flicked his tail and the two of you were propelled upwards. As soon as you broke the surface, he pushed your head to his bare chest and he slapped your back…hard.

Water spilled from your violet tinted lips and he smiled when he felt your chest rise and fall. You were alive!

He rescued you, that meant you belonged to him! You owed your life to him, so that meant from here on out, he could do whatever he pleased with you…you were his.

Brahms’ tail twitched in excitement and he began swimming away from the boat when he heard a man’s voice.

“Y/n!”

The merman glanced back and growled when he saw men jumping into the water to retrieve you. You were staying with him!

Brahms placed you on his back and secured you with the ribbon that the wind had blown from your hair. With your arms tied around his neck, the merman took off and began attacking the men who had dared enter his domain. His nails easily sliced through their necks, and their warm blood coated his hand. They fell one by one until there was only one man left.

He was big, burly man with a balding head and large brown eyes. His pale skin was tinted purple and his bulbous nose was beginning to drip with snot.

“Give me the princess!” The man commanded with false bravado.

“She’s mine!” Brahms hissed, readying his hand to strike.

The man shook his head and glanced at you. His eyes widened and he spoke once more. “Look at her!” he pointed to your unconscious form, “She needs help. If you don’t give her over to me she will die! Do you want her to die?”

Brahms sunk further into the water, trying his best to hide your unconscious form from the old human. He was about to argue with the man when you began to shake. Your teeth chattered loudly in his ear and he froze. Were you really sick?

He ignored the human man and carefully reached for you. The knotted ribbon tickled his neck and he paled when he saw your face. Your cheeks were red and your lips were turning purple.

“If you give her to me, I can assure that she will get the help that she needs.”

“No!”

“Please?” The man cried.

“I said —”

Brahms was knocked unconscious by another man, one who had slipped into the water when he had been distracted. The honey blond man took a dagger from his pocket and sliced the ribbon that was keeping you tethered to the merman.

“I’ve got her, Herbert!” The young man called out.

The elder gentleman, Herbert, sighed in relief. “Thank the gods.” He swam towards his coworker, a kind man named Daniel, and watched as the merman sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

“We need to get her back onto the boat before he regains consciousness.”

Daniel nodded in agreement. “Do you think that we tell King Malcolm what had happened?”

“No,” Herbert sighed, “it would only cause the young king to worry. And besides, it’s not like the merman can follow us on land.”

Two weeks, that’s how long Brahms searched the ocean for you. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep, all he did was swim and swim and swim. His parents were worried, for they had never seen their son so agitated, not even after killing Emily. Their anxiety caused them to send out a handful of guards, in hopes that they would bring their son home, but they never came back…

“We need to do something, Edward.” Queen Heelshire sighed, placing her face in her hands.

She couldn’t stand seeing her son in so much pain. He wanted that human woman and he would not stop until he found her again. At this point, she was worried that her darling son would swim himself to death.

“What can we do, Audrey?” the king replied. “They live in two different worlds.”

An idea struck the queen and her head snapped up. “But what if they didn’t, Edward?”

A deep sense of foreboding overcome the sombre king. “Surely, you aren’t suggesting what I think you are suggesting.”

“I am.”

There was a heavy silence and after a few minutes of thinking, the king hesitantly agreed. He waved his hand and a guard came to his aid.

“How can I help you, My King?”

“I want you to find the Sea Witch and bring her here.”

When Brahms returned home, three days later, after being dragged against his will, by a well seasoned tracker, he was ushered into the throne room. When he entered he saw a strange a looking woman.

She had the body of a sting ray and her skin was a pale shade of lilac. Her hair was white and her eyes were yellow. Large sea snakes swam around her, wrapping and slithering up her arm. Her thick tail was black in color and her small breasts were covered by a thing of black pearls.

The king and queen swam towards their son and they introduced him to the peculiar woman.

“Brahms,” Queen Heelshire said, “this is Spume, the sea witch.”

Spume swam towards the prince and wrapped her tail around his. “Tell me, My Prince, what is that you desire?”

“A human woman.” Brahms answered without hesitation.

The sea witch threw back her head and cackled. “A human?! Oh, how quaint!”

“Can you help him?” the king demanded.

The sea witch grew quiet and tightened her grip on the prince’s emerald tail. “I can. But I must warn you, Your Highnesses, the process will be painful and it comes with great risks.”

“What type of risks?” Queen Heelshire inquired.

“The spell will be permeant.” Spume inched closer to the prince and gently cupped his face. “You will never be able to see your parents again. You will breathe the air and shall you try to breathe water, you shall drown.”

“Is that all?” Brahms asked.

The sea witch shook her head. “Should you fail to win the affections of the princess and should she join in another in matrimony, your heart will cease to beat and you will turn to sea foam.”

Brahms snorted. “She is mine.”

“So cocky,” the witch muttered under her breath. “Of course, there’s also the matter of payment.”

“Money is of no concern.”

“It is not money that I want.” Spume said. “What I require is something that can not be bought, nor is it something that can be procured. It must be willingly given, and it is something that only you can give me.”

“And that is?”

“Your voice.”

“What would you want with my voice?” The prince asked with narrowed eyes.

“What I want your voice for does not matter. Do you agree to my price?”

The prince pushed the woman back and frowned. “How will I talk to my princess if I do not have a voice?”

“You have your body, don’t you?”

Brahms’ eyes widened upon hearing the witch’s reply and he covered his pink cheeks with his hands. He had every intention of bedding you, but he hadn’t thought out the details of the coupling, seeing how he wasn’t sure how human anatomy worked.

“Do we have a deal, My Prince?”

“Yes.”

The sea witch lurched forward and crashed her violet lips against the prince’s lightly scarred ones. Her magic poured into his mouth and she purred in delight when it settled on his voice box. When she removed her mouth from his, purple magic followed and a golden orb made its way out of the prince’s mouth. She held out her hands and his voice landed in her smooth palms. Spume brought the orb to her face and greedily swallowed it.

The royal family watched as the golden light traveled down the sea witch’s throat, only to shrine brightly before going out.

Spume cleared her throat and smiled. “Shall we begin?”

A few hours later, Spume held a vial filled with red liquid, and she placed it in the prince’s hands. She turned her attention towards her pets and stroked their black and white stripped heads.

“Bring him to the castle that stands tall by the sea. The castle with a gold flag and white rose. You know which one I’m talking about. When he is found by the humans, you may return to me.”

She kissed their heads and the snakes began swimming away. The prince followed after her pets, but she grabbed a hold of his tail before he disappeared for good.

Brahms opened his mouth and bubbles came out in place of words. He closed his mouth and puffed out his cheeks, just like a spoiled child.

“Take care, My Prince. The human world is a dangerous place.”

With that, she removed her hand from his tail fin and she watched as the lovestruck prince disappeared from sight. The sea witch touched her throat and laughed to her self.

If only Prince Brahms knew that your fiancé was setting sail for your wedding, which was taking place in a month.

Before Spume could leave the palace, the king and queen stopped her. Large tears were rolling down the queen’s cheeks and the king cleared his throat.

“Is there something you can do for us to heal the hole in our hearts?”

The sea-witch clicked her tongue in thought then nodded. “How do you feel about dolls?”

It took a little over an hour for Brahms to reach the beach, but as soon as his hands came into contact with the golden sand, he uncorked the vial and chugged the potion in one gulp.

Nothing could have prepared him for the pain.

His tail was being ripped open in front of his eyes and he released a silent scream. It was agony. His body shook in pain and sweat clung to his pale brow. Where the tail was ripped in half, two legs began to materialize and he watched in awe as the scales fell away into the ocean. With one final scream, Brahms collapsed face first.

Something had happened when you had fallen into the ocean. You could remember the feeling of hands on your waist and fingers laced through your hair. There was something else, something important, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember. The doctors said it was to be expected due to the result of the sickness you came down with having been tossed into the ocean.

Your bare feet sunk into the warm sand and you pulled the red shawl tighter. The sun was high in the sky and the salt air tickled your nose. To the right of you was your maid, Sophie. She was a middle aged spinster with grey hair and large brown eyes.

“Your wedding dress will be done by the end of the day, Princess. I’m so excited to see you walk down the aisle in it!”

You stopped misstep and grimaced. By the end of the month you were going to be wed to General Cole. You had done well in avoiding wedding preparations, much to your maid’s distress and the annoyance of the royal dress maker.

“Can we talk about something else, Sophie?”

“But we still have so much to do, my lady: You still have to select a flower arrangement; finalize the menu with the chef, and not mention, you still have yet to write your vows.”

“I don’t care either way. Pick whatever flowers you want, allow the chef to make a professional decision, and if you’re that worried about my marital vows, feel free to write them yourself.”

“Princess —”

“I will not hear anymore on this matter! Have I made myself clear?”

Sophie’s eyes grew wide and she shifted her weight from foot to foot. She gave you a slight nod and you continued to walk along the water’s edge. Nothing was else was said and you looked further down the beach. There, slumped in the shallows was what looked to be a person.

Without another thought, you grabbed the hem of your dress and took off running, leaving your elderly maid to chase after you. A naked man was face down in the shallows. His face was resting on the dry sand and it was tilted to the side. Large bunches off seaweed covered his bottom and blood had stained the once golden sand a haunting shade of crimson.

“Are you all right, sir?” you asked, rushing to his side.

He did not answer.

You kneeled next to the man and you gently brushed the damp curls from his face. His skin was pale, almost as if he had never spent a day in the sun, and his brows were thick. There was a gentle curve to his nose and his lips were a delicate shade of pink. He had also had a dark beard.

He was handsome.

You grabbed a hold of the man’s shoulder and used all your strength to pull him up and out of the water. The sea weed slipped off, revealing his naked bottom, and you quickly averted your eyes. First thing first, you had to get him out of the water. After that, you could address the issue surrounding his nudity.

Your feet sunk into the sand and once you were a few feet from the crashing waves, you set him back down. You nudged his shoulder but he did not sir. With a huff, you carefully rolled him over. Your eyes roamed his body, and you began looking for any sign of injury, but you couldn’t find anything.

His legs were covered in dark hair and you quickly glanced at his cock. It was half erect and nestled in a patch of curly dark hair. His testicles were perfectly round and they moved with every breath he took. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you covered your flushed face with the back of your hand. You were checking for injuries…nothing more…at least that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of.

You removed your red shawl and placed it over his cock, and you began eyeing his chest. Like the rest of him, it was covered in dark hair. His body was muscular but it was also lean. It was so different from the burly farmers and soldiers that you have been exposed to.

Your eyes flittered across the man’s collarbones, up his neck, then settled on his face. The entire right side of his face was scared; his eyelid, his nose, lips, and chin, and you could even see faint scarring hidden behind his beard.

You raised your hand and gently traced his large scar with the tip of your fingers, following it all the way to the inner most corner of his ear.

What happened to this man? Why was he on the shore naked? Was he from your kingdom?

No, he was not. You would have remember him while walking through the kingdom. If he wasn’t from your kingdom, then were had he come from?

The man’s eyes twitched and you moved your hand away. His eyes flew open and you stilled. They were hazel in color and they looked like green sapphire nestled in honeyed pools of amber.

“You’re beautiful,” you said barely above a whisper.

The words that you had spoken shook Brahms to his very core, and they caused an unfamiliar emotion to pump through his veins.

The former merman rolled over and tackled you onto the beach. His body covered yours and you let out a squeak as his lips crashed onto yours. Your eyes grew wide in shock and embarrassment, and you tried pushing him off of you, but he would not budge. You opened your lips to protest, but was silenced when his tongue slipped into your mouth.

You had kissed men before, but they were chaste in nature, and nothing like the one you were currently experiencing.

“Ah! There you are, Princess!” Sophie called. “Good gracious! Just what are you doing, Princess Y/N?!”

The maid ran toward your side and pushed Brahms off of you. The man clumsily landed on his bottom and the shawl that covered what little modesty he still had, had fallen off, revealing his fully erect cock…in all its glory.

Prince Brahms kept his eyes locked on you and Sophie pulled you back up. The elderly maid grabbed a hold of your face and inspected you with a critical eye. Your lips were swollen, eyes glazed, and you looked feverish.

“Come, we must get you to the castle immediately!” the elder woman cried. She grabbed a hold of your hand and began dragging you towards the castle.

You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw Brahms (though you still had yet to learn his name) following you. He was on his stomach, feet kicked out, and his finger were in the sand: he was using the earth to push himself forward.

Your heart felt heavy and you planted your feet in the sand. “We need to help him.” You snatched your arm back from the maid and began walking towards him yet again.

Brahms’ eyes lit up, and he held out his own hand. ‘Don’t leave me here, Y/N!’ he thought to himself.

“We need to help him,” you repeated. “Sophie, help me bring this man back to the palace.”

The maid shook her head and placed her hands on her plump hips. “We are not bringing a naked man back home with us, Princess. Just —”

“Sophie, I gave you an order.”

You gave her a heated look and held your head up high. You were the Crown Princess of this kingdom. People answered to you, not the other way around. And the only people who could overrule you were currently in the castle currently working on producing an heir.

“Help me bring him to the castle,” you said once more.

“Yes, Princess.”

You reached Brahms first and he threw himself onto you once more. Only this time you were prepared for it. You faltered slightly and slowly stood up. Brahms was weak in the knees, not using them whatsoever, and you slipped his arm over your shoulder.

Sophie grabbed the shawl from the ground and tied it around the merman’s waist, careful not to look at the juncture between his legs. Once the shawl was secured, she slipped under Brahms’ other shoulders and took the rest of his weight.

The way back to the castle was difficult; not only were you carrying a tall, heavy man, but you also had to somehow accommodate Sophie’s hunched over stature and slow gaited walk. And it didn’t help that the man kept kissing you every chance he had. An action which only angered Sophie, which in turn caused the walk to momentarily stop.

What should have taken fifteen minutes, ended up taking forty-five, and once you reached the west gate of the palace, you were covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

Daniel spotted you first, and the strawberry haired guard rushed to your aid. His young face was marred in concern and his dark brows were narrowed. “Who is this, Princess?”

“I don’t know,” you replied. “I found him passed out on the beach. I don’t think he can walk or talk.”

The guard nodded then took Brahms from you and Sophie. He glanced down at the man that he was carrying and froze when his blue eyes bore into a pair of hazel ones.

It was the merman that had killed his friends and held you hostage…and the one that he had knocked out cold in order to rescue you.

Brahms gave Daniel a cold glare and dug his nails into the man’s bare arm, drawing blood. No words were needed, for his action served as a warning. ‘Speak and I will kill you.’

You were unaware of the silent exchange that occurred between the two men, and continued talking as if nothing happened.

“See to it that he is given a room, and make sure to send for the royal physician.”

The guard looked away from the humanized merman and gulped. “As you wish, Princess.”

You gave Daniel a kind smile and began walking away, but was stopped when Brahms grabbed a hold of your wrist.

He lifted his head and you heard Daniel gasp behind you. You ignored the guard and kept your eyes locked on the man. “I have to get ready for dinner. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Brahms opened his mouth and tried to speak, but no voice came out. ‘Don’t leave me! Let me follow you!’ that’s what he had wanted to say.

“Ah, there you are, Y/N!” Malcolm called, catching your attention.

You looked over your shoulder and saw your brother. His hair was wet and he was dressed in black dress pants, a white button up shirt, and he wore black boots. His eyes widened when he saw the bearded man holding your wrist.

“Y/N, who’s this?”

Dinner was the definition of awkward; Malcolm and Greta couldn’t stop looking at the man you rescued, and the man you rescued wouldn’t stop staring at you.

You tried your best to ignore his heated gaze, but it was no use. With a sigh, you lowered your glass filled with wine and met his eyes. His food had long been devoured; as soon as it had been placed in front of him, he inhaled it.

“What’s your name?” you asked him, catching everyone’s attention.

Greta lowered her spoon and Malcolm looked up from his pork tenderloin. They had asked the merman that question dozens of times today, but he did not answer.

He said nothing and you leaned forward, resting your arms on the table. “Can you write?”

Brahms nodded.

You smiled and Hans, one of the butlers, placed a notepad and pencil on the table. Everyone watched with berated breath as the merman took the pencil in hand, and it was silent as he wrote his name.

When he was done, the butler took the notebook and handed it to you. You looked it over and frowned. The man wrote in an alphabet that was long forgotten. You only knew it because your tutor at the time demanded that you learned it. It was old, ancient, and dead language. It wasn’t common knowledge, so how did this mute man know it?

You lowered the paper and tapped the pencil against the table. You could translate it, it would just take you a few minutes seeing how you hadn’t practiced that language since you were a pre-teen.

B-R-A-H-M-S. That was the name that the ancient letters spelled.

“Brahms.”

His name rolled of your tongue and the man in front of you, Brahms, nodded.

Your brother and sister-in-law then began asking him question after question, but he did not answer any of them. Greta kicked you under the table and motioned for you to ask another question, seeing how he answered your previous one.

“Brahms,” you called, catching the man’s attention, “were are you from?”

He jotted down his answer and handed the pad of paper towards you. ‘Somewhere far away. A place that I can no longer return to.’

Malcolm frowned and stuffed another piece of meat into his mouth. He wasn’t sure what to make of Brahms, but he had been there when the doctor visited him. And during that visit, the doctor had announced that Brahms had been a lost at sea for weeks, and that it was a miracle in itself that he survived being out in the water for that long.

Dinner came to an end and Hans, the balding butler, practically carried Brahms back to his room. Much to the merman’s annoyance.

Days passed and you found yourself spending more time with Brahms. He was a good distraction from your upcoming wedding, and you had to admit, he was handsome and mysterious…two qualities that you found irresistible. And it seemed that he was just as fond of you.

During the mornings, you would meet him in the library and teach him the alphabet that was being used this day and age. He picked it up quickly, and soon enough, he was writing with it, which allowed others to communicate with him. But to your surprise, he didn’t talk to them, and if he did, it was quick, one-worded answers. It seemed that he did not take joy or pleasure in talking to people who were not you.

Two weeks passed and by that time, Brahms was walking. The voice-less man followed you everywhere you went; the gardens, the kitchen, the throne room, and he had even tried to sneak into the bathroom while you bathed. Sophie had been furious with the former merman.

Then one night, during a thunderstorm, unbeknownst to you, Brahms snuck into your room.

You woke when you felt the bed dip, and you opened your mouth to scream when you saw a dark silhouette hovering above you. A large, warm hand clamped around your mouth, stopping the scream before it could leave your throat. Lightning and thunder crashed, and a few slivers of neon blue entered through the gaps of the curtains, illuminating the silhouette.

You placed your hand over Brahms’ and promptly removed it from your mouth. “What are you doing here?!” you hissed.

Brahms plopped on top of you pressed his face against your unbound chest. You laid there frozen, unsure what to do, when another crash of thunder sounded. Brahms’ body shook and he pressed his face harder against your chest.

Realization dawned upon you and the anger you felt towards your nightly visitor vanished, leaving concern in its wake. You gently wrapped your arms around the merman’s back and rested your chin on the crown of his curled head.

“Are you scared of thunder and lightning?” you asked in a soft voice.

Brahms nodded, deciding to use your compassion against you if it meant getting what he wanted.

You hummed in thought and then pulled away. You lifted the numerous sheets and gently tapped on the exposed mattress. Brahms wasted no time and dove in. And before the blankets could cover him, he was on you once again.

He moved your legs apart and settled in the warm space. He wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his face on the delicate swell of your breasts, using them as a makeshift pillow. The position was intimate, and immense guilt and shame washed over you.

Brahms had come to you for support, and here you were, pinned underneath him, thinking of all the images that you had seen in a book that the noble women of the court were particularly fond of, the Kama Sutra.

You imagined Brahms inside of you, and you shivered. You wanted him to strip you of your virginity, and more importantly, you wanted him…you wanted to be his. Ugh! Nothing made sense! All you knew was that you needed like him like a fish needed water. Every single cell inside of you yearned for this strange, hypnotic man.

Yet you knew that nothing could come of it — you were to be married in two weeks.

Unshed tears stung your eyes and you entwined your arms around Brahms’ back once more. You wanted this man, not your fiancé, and you for a moment, however brief it was, you had thought about rejecting General Cole, even if it meant sending thousands of men to their deaths in war.

Sleep did not come easy for you that night, but when it did, you were plagued with cruel dreams. You and Brahms had been married and were living a happy life within the confines of the castle. You spent every morning and night in one another’s arms, and you had tried position after position from that exotic book, only to succumb to the throes of ecstasy. It was beautiful, and you had wished that you would never wake up. But alas, you did.

“Good morning, Princess Y/N!” Sophie called, rudely waking you.

Brahms was still cocooned around you. He laid on his side, arm wrapped around your waist, and his head was resting on your left shoulder. His eyes began to flutter open and he smiled when he saw you looking at him, causing your heart to skip a beat.

The curtains ruffled and bright sunlight poured into the room and Sophie’s loud scream pierced the air. Guards ran into your room and they were being led by Daniel and Herbert, who upon seeing the man in your bed, faltered and exchanged an uneasy look.

Then, to make matters worse, Greta and Malcolm stormed their way into the bedchamber. Greta held her robe closed and Malcolm was running a hand through his sleep tousled hair.

He yawned and looked around the room, then choked. “What the hell is going on here?!”

Malcolm stared at Herbert and Daniel, not sure what to make of the information that they had just shared. It had to have been a joke, some sick, elaborate joke. He gave his wife a quick glance and noted her expression of confusion and disbelief. It seemed that they were on the same page.

“Who put you up to this, Herbert? Was it one of the chefs?” Malcolm laughed, trying his best to act aloof.

The guards stood there silent.

Anxiety bubbled within the king’s chest, and he began tapping his foot in an irate manner. He looked from Herbert to Daniel, then from Daniel to Herbert, trying his hardest to break them. But no matter how hard he pushed, they did not recant their strange tale.

Not only had they told of him what had actually transpired in the ocean when they rescued you, but Herbert then went on to connect Brahms to the drowning of Emily; a girl who had drowned a few years before he was born.

“Emily was killed by a drunkard.” Malcolm recanted, remembering the story that he had heard growing up.

Herbert took a step forward and met the king’s eyes. “No, she wasn’t,” he paused then continued, “she was killed by a merman. I saw it with my own two eyes, sire. He tried to drag her into the water and she flung her lantern at him, causing his face to catch fire. When I alerted the other guards, she had already been dragged into the water. By the time we reached her, she was dead.”

“But that’s —”

Herbert removed a leather bound book from his pocket and tossed it to Malcolm. The king caught it with clumsy fingers and the older guard gave him a sombre look.

“Perhaps this will change you mind.”

The guards left the throne room and returned to their assigned stations, leaving Malcolm with Greta. The queen took her husband’s hand in hers and placed a tender kiss on the back of it.

“Read it. I’ll go check on Y/N.”

The queen left the throne room and began tracking you down. She asked a few maids and they told her that you were in the bath. The queen muttered her thanks and decided the bath was a perfect place to have a much needed conversation — you couldn’t run away from her there.

With head held high, Greta took off and mentally rehearsed what she was going to say to you.

You rested the top half of your body on the ledge of the bathtub, propping your arms on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, and rested your head on the inner portion of your crossed arms. Your hair trailed down your back and from the corner of your eye you could see the floating strands being lulled by the hot water that the ivory spout carried.

A sigh escaped your lips and you turned your head in the other direction, allowing you you see the large stained-glass window. You were thinking of everything and nothing, and your mind was going in circles. It was exhausting.

The door to the bathroom open and you groaned. “Go away, Sophie!”

You were not in the mood for another lecture regarding your improper behavior with Brahms, who was not your fiancé. The scandal.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not Sophie.” Greta said with a light chuckle.

You picked your head up and slowly sunk into the bathwater. You avoided her blue gaze and turned around, giving your sister-in-law privacy to undress. A few seconds later, you heard her enter the bath, and once settled, you turned back around.

“Do you like him?” Greta asked point blank.

Your small, polite smile fell, and Greta’s face grew red in embarkment; she had forgotten to use the monologue that she had practiced while she was busing tracking you down.

You liked Brahms. Anyone with eyes could see that. When you saw him, your eyes would light up, and when he grabbed your wrist in an attempt to keep you at his side, a bashful yet happy look would cross your pretty face. And when you spent time with him, your heart would race and you were truly and genuinely happy. The thought of not seeing him, or not being near him, caused you a pain that you had never experienced before. It was frightening.

Greta eyes fell and she lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“What are you sorry about?�� you sneered, standing up and moving towards the bath’s steps.

Your body shook in anger and hot, fat tears fell from your eyes. You were in such a hurry to leave the bathroom, that you didn’t see the small puddle of spilt bath oil. When your foot caught it, you fell flat on your butt and that had been the last straw.

You had tried so hard to keep everything contained. You didn’t want Malcolm to see you like this, but you especially didn’t want Greta to see you like this. She had been lucky — she was able to escape Cole, and her escape brought her to your kingdom, to your brother, to her happily ever after, but her happily every after had in essence cost you yours. And at this particular moment, you hated her (even though you would never say that aloud).

Loud, deafening sobs spilled from your trembling body, and Greta wrapped her towel clad body around yours.

“I don’t want to marry Cole!” you screamed. “I don’t want this! I hate him!”

“I know,” Greta cried. “And I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Bang! Bang Bang!

The wall directly in front of you shook violently, causing the oil painting to crash against the floor, but you didn’t care and neither did Greta.

Married! You were getting married! And you were getting married to someone other than him!

Brahms stormed out of his hiding space behind the wall, and he flew into the closest room in a blind rage — the library.

All he could see was white and a tornado of destruction surrounded him; crystal lamps were thrown at the wall, sending shards of glass everywhere; books were thrown, ripped and some were tossed into the burning fire; his fists cracked the tables and chairs, and he pushed the heavy book cases over, causing the wooden structures to fall like dominos.

The door to the library opened, revealing Daniel’s wide eyed stare. The merman growled and lunged forward, intent on killing the meddling human. Daniel, who was terrified for his life (and rightly so), immediately slammed the door shut, causing Brahms to run face first into the unyielding structure, prompting the merman to fall down.

He opened his mouth and released one silent scream after another, not stopping until he grew exhausted. Sweat clung to his brow his throat was irritated. If he could speak, his voice would have been shot and it would have been deeper and more gravely than normal.

Brahms slunk to the floor and he took in all the destruction that he had caused. It looked like a waterless tsunami laid waste to the room.

Make no mistake, the merman was still angry — enraged even, but he had no more energy to exert. He was exhausted. Not to mention, he was still getting used to living on land, which was proving to be a challenge in itself. Now, he had to deal with the knowledge that you, his beloved princess, was getting married to another man. It was too much.

His eyes landed on a half torn page, one which showed a man and a woman engaging in an act that the merman had never seen before. The man was resting on his knees and the naked woman was laying on her stomach with her legs wrapped around his waist, and connecting the two of them was an engorged appendage that originated the man’s lower pelvic. To say Brahms was intrigued was an understatement.

Anger still flowed through his veins, but curiosity clouded his mind, and the merman began searching the devastated library in hopes of find the book that the page belonged to. After hours of searching, he found the book lodged between a shattered bookcase and the tattered cavas of an oil paining. The book was titled 'Kama Sutra’.

Brahms snuck the hardcover book under his shirt and made his way out of the library, glaring at Daniel who stood guard across the hallway. He quickly made his way to his room and once in, he locked the door behind him and plopped onto his large, freshly made bed, curtesy of the butler named Hans.

He cracked open the book and the scent of dried ink and crisp pages evaded his senses. He read page after page, chapter after chapter, and ignored the servants that were sent his way to inform him that dinner was ready. He simply ignored them and continued reading. And when he stumbled upon the erotic illustrations, he stopped and stared.

He made note of the positions that the couples were in, the way that the bodies of the men and women perfectly fit within one another, and he felt his cock (for he had just learned the proper term for the appendage that hung between his legs) begin to stir, and he closed the book.

Phrases and sentences from the Kama Sutra swirled in his mind, and when he closed his eyes, the images that he had studied changed shape. Instead of nameless couples, he imagined that it was you and him.

Brahms rolled over so that he was laying on his back and he made quick work of removing his clothes. When his hand brushed over his weeping cock, he threw his head back and moaned without restraint. He quickly lost himself to the new and breathtaking sensation and it wasn’t long before he reached the height of ecstasy.

He silently cried your name and and his white seed spilled from his pulsating cock, painting his tense abdomen white. He continued to rub himself, prolonging the ecstasy, but hissed when he the pleasure started to become painful, prompting him to stop his ministrations.

His sweat dewed chest rose and fell in an erratic manner, and he gingerly ran his fingers against the pool of semen that covered his lower torso. It was warm, thick and unlike anything he had ever seen before. The reproductive systems of humans was unlike anything he had imagined.

Thud!

The book fell from the bed and he glanced down. It had opened to another image, only this time, the woman was on top of the man. He immediately thought of you sitting on top of him, your body naked and eyes hazed with lust. His cock twitched back to life and the events of today slammed into him. You were getting married and you would be acting out these illustrations with your soon to be husband.

Brahms growled and ripped a pillow in half, sending feathers flying everywhere. You were his and no one was going to take you from him. No one.

It was the eve to your wedding and you found yourself sitting across from your fiancé. Cole was on his eighth glass of wine and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

The table was uncharacteristically quiet, and you kept sneaking glances at Brahms. You haven’t spoken to him in over a week and the distance that had been put in place by your brother, and enforced by Sophie, Hans, Daniel and Herbert.

You hated being away from Brahms. It felt like there was a piece of you missing when you were away from him. And the only time you were permitted to see him was during meals. It wasn’t enough for you.

Your eyes met Brahms’ heated hazel gaze from across the table and you found yourself being inexplicably drawn to the scarred man. The food in front of you was all but forgotten and you gave him a genuine smile.

Brahms leaned into the table and your body subconsciously followed his lead. The two of you were like magnets: When one of you moved, the other followed. It was like magic. And it didn’t go unnoticed by everyone in the room.

Cole’s eyes darted from you to Brahms, and the man took another long swig of his wine, finishing off his glass.

“Who’s this?” he demanded, pointing a finger at Brahms.

“That’s Brahms.” Malcolm answered without missing a beat.

Cole huffed. “Who is he?” he asked once more, this time more aggressively.

Greta rolled her blue eyes and took a sip of her tea. “Y/N found Brahms washed up on the beach. He’s been staying with us while he recovers.”

“He looks fine to me.” Cole sneered.

Brahms’ nails bit through the table and a murderous aura radiated from him. Greta scooted closer to Malcolm, and the king snapped his head towards Daniel and Herbert, who were silently telling him, ‘told you so’, and you reached out and gently rested your hand on top of his.

He relaxed under your touch and Cole abruptly stood from the table, causing his chair to fall backward and land with obnoxious, resounding boom.

Cole made his way towards you and roughly grabbed your shoulder, digging the meat of his fingers into the distal end of your collarbone. You winced in pain and the foreign general turned his angered gaze to Malcolm.

“I wish to speak to my fiancée in private.”

He pulled you out of your seat and dragged you towards the door. Daniel and Herbert moved to follow you, but they were stopped by Cole.

“Alone.”

The two guards looked at Malcolm, and the king frowned. “Don’t you think that it is improper to speak to woman without a guardian?”

“Please,” Cole snorted, “by this time tomorrow you sister will be under me.”

Anger swelled in your chest and you ripped your arm from Cole’s. The general just shook his head and wrapped his arm around your waist, and he proceeded to drag you out of the room.

The two of you walked in silence until you reached a balcony that overlooked the ocean, and when the door shut, the general pushed you away from him. Not expecting that, you tripped over your feet and landed roughly on your knees and outstretched hands.

Cole’s hand shot out and he roughly grabbed your face, forcing you to look up at him. Every muscle in his burly body was tense, and his nostrils flared. He was angry.

“Have you lain with him?” He demanded in a slurred manner.

You met his heated gaze head on and sneered. “No,” you replied.

Cole searched your face and frowned. “I don’t believe you.”

Slap!

Your head snapped to the side and hot, searing pain blossomed in your cheek where his open palm had met your skin.

“You’re mine, Princess. That freak might have had you, but it’s me you belong to, remember that.”

Unshed tears kissed the outer corner of your eye and you retaliated by biting down on the hand closest to your face. Cole hissed in pain and struck you again, this time with his non-dominant hand, and he struck the top of your head with a closed fist, effectively knocking you unconscious.

Your body slumped forward and Cole removed his hand from your slack mouth. No sooner had his hand been freed, had he been tackled to the ground. Large, warm hands wrapped around his thick neck and when he opened his eyes, he found himself staring into a pair of narrowed hazel ones.

Brahms was on top of him, choking him.

Cole swung his heavy fists in the air, determined to strike Brahms, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t land a single hit on the man, for he had drunk too much: The alcohol had numbed his senses, slowing his reflexes, and skewing his depth perception.

With every failed hit, Brahms tightened his grip. Life slipped from Cole’s eyes, leaving his orbs hollow, and when the foreign general stopped moving, Brahms removed his hands and stood up. Not wanting to leave anything to chance, he picked up the body and carried it to the edge of the balcony.

Below them stood sharp, jagged rocks, and the ocean slammed against them, sending ocean mist high in the air. That would do. Without another thought, Brahms pushed the man over the railing and watched in sick enjoyment as Cole’s body entered its shallow, watery grave.

Brahms turned on his heel and quickly ran to your side. Your lips were pulled back in a tight grimace and he stilled when he saw your right cheek begin to swell. He had seen what Cole had done to you, and before he knew it, he had ran out of the shadows and killed him. The merman was just glad that you did not see what had happened.

Without further thought, the merman picked you up in his arms and cradled you close to his chest. He walked confidently into the castle and ignored the worried whispers that the staff muttered to one another. And within a matter of minutes, he had reentered the dinning room, where Malcolm and Greta were still occupying,

Greta looked up first, and when she saw Brahms carrying your unconscious body, she jostled upright and ran towards you.

“What happened to her?!” the queen demanded. “Her cheek, it is swollen!” Realization dawned upon her and she took a step back. “Did General Cole do this to her?”

Brahms nodded.

Malcolm rushed your side and motioned for Herbert to approach. The elder guard stopped in front of the merman, and he tried taking you from him, but Brahms would not let you go. It was just like what had transpired in the ocean not too long ago.

“She needs to be seen by a doctor,” Herbert whispered just loud enough for Brahms to hear, but low enough so no one else could. “As soon as the doctor clears her, I will bring you to her. You have my word.”

Brahms wanted to protest, but was stopped when Malcolm spoke. “I would like to speak to you Brahms regarding my sister. Please follow me.”

Greta helped Herbert remove you from the merman’s arms, and she cried as she tailed after the elder man.

Malcolm left the room and Brahms reluctantly followed after him. They reached a small study, and once inside the room, Malcolm sat down and poured himself a small glass of scotch.

“We need to talk, Brahms, and we need to talk about everything.”

You stood in front of the mirror, admiring the way you looked in your wedding dress.

The neckline was low, revealing your collarbone and the tops of your breasts, and the bodice was lined in a wide array of freshwater pearls. Additional pearls were carefully strung together, and they formed a sort of cap sleeve, and they felt cool against your bare skin. The skirt of the dress hung beautifully from your body and the silk material flowed like the delicate waves of the calm ocean that you were currently sailing on.

The door to the room opened and Malcolm stepped in. He was dressed in grey and gold, and his hair was smoothed back. Silver cuffs and buttons gleamed under the rays of the setting sun, and he the hesitant smile that he wore turned into a genuine one upon seeing you.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“I feel beautiful,” you replied.

Malcolm stood at the doorway and motioned towards his pocket watch. “It’s almost time.”

You backed away from the mirror and grabbed the bouquet of white roses. With flowers in hand, you reached your brother. He held out his arm and you looped yours through it.

He led you out of the room, through the cabin, and up the dock. Everyone stood when they caught sight of you, and the harpist began playing. With every cord she struck, you took a step closer towards your future.

Brahms watched you with the intensity of a starved man. Your body vibrated and a large smile spread across your face. When you reached the end of the aisle, Malcolm kissed your cheek and turned to Brahms. He took a step closer and whispered something into your fiancé’s ear: ‘Remember your promise: No harm will come to my sister.’

Brahms nodded and when Malcolm stepped back, the merman pulled you towards him. The magistrate cleared his throat and the ceremony began.

While the magistrate spoke, you glanced at Brahms from the corner of your eye. He too wore a large, blinding smile.

You were happy, and you couldn’t help but think about the events that had transpired a little over a week ago.

When you had awoke from the strike that Cole delivered, you had found yourself back in your room with Brahms asleep beside you on the bed. Malcolm sat on the chair to your right, and he was the one to break the wondrous news to you: Cole was dead. He had fallen, hit his head on the balcony’s rail, and fell to his death.

It seemed too good to be true, but you didn’t care. You were free! With Cole’s death, there was no arranged marriage. And seeing how his death was an accident, the opposing kingdom could not attack without losing their supporters, which would leave their kingdom in financial ruin.

And it was then that Malcolm handed you the old, leathern-bound journal that his father had written in, years ago before Malcolm was even born. He kissed your forehead and left you alone (Brahms was still fast asleep beside you).

You had read the entirety of the notebook within the span of two hours, and during that time, you couldn’t help but glance at the slumbering man that clung to you. Somewhere deep inside you, you knew that Brahms had been the merman that killed Emily, but for some strange reason, you weren’t afraid of him.

Malcolm returned shortly after you read your step-father’s journal, and by that time, Brahms was awake. He was laying between your legs, head resting on your unbound chest, and a lazy smile on his face.

It was then that your brother told you about the events that transpired when you had fallen into the ocean all those weeks ago. He also told you that it was Brahms that saved you from Cole, who in turned killed the vile general.

Brahms nodded here and there, confirming the story, and he had tightened his grip on you. He was afraid that you would push him away when you knew of who and what he was, but to his delight, you only held him tighter. You loved him.

“And do you, Princess Y/N, take Brahms as your lawfully wedded husband?” The magistrate asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“I do.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Brahms, you may kiss your bride.”

The former merman wasted no time. He cupped your cheeks with his hands and placed his lips over yours. You smiled against his lips and Brahms pulled you close, pressing your body against his.

When you pulled back, the crowd cheered.

By the time the moon was high in sky, the celebration came to an end. You and Brahms hurried to your wedding suite. No sooner had the door shut behind you, your husband tackled you onto the bed and covered your skin in kisses.

Your hands wounded in his thick, curly locks, and you sighed as he began sucking on the column of your neck. Brahms moved his hips, pressing his erection against your center, and you gasped.

A soft groan fell from Brahms and he hurriedly removed your dress, not caring that the string of pearls around your shoulders broke. He needed you, and you needed him. Neither one of you could wait anymore.

His hands wandered the expanse of your naked body and he whimpered at the beautiful sight. Nothing could have prepared him for this. You were more beautiful that he dared to imagine, and you were his, just as he was yours.

Brahms opened your legs, revealing your glistening sex, and he lowered his head. He stopped when he reached your hooded bundle of nerves and he pressed his tongue on it.

Your body jolted back and you cried out loudly. Brahms settled further into the bed and began exploring you with his tongue and fingers. No inch of skin was spared, and with every passing second, you became more and more undone.

Brahms slipped his tongue inside of your sex, earning him a breathless gasp. His nose brushed against your clitoris and your legs tightened against the side of his head. You laced your fingers through his hair and moaned in pleasure. With every thrust of his tongue and jostle against your clit, you could feel an unfamiliar knot forming within your lower abdomen. Your body was beginning to grow taut and your breathing became labored. Brahms’ tongue entered your core once more, reaching deeper than before, and something inside of you snapped.

Your back arched and a white, blinding pleasure overtook you. Every single nerve came to life and your textured walls clamped around your husband’s tongue, and something wet trickled out of you.

Brahms swallowed your sweet nectar and you collapsed back onto the feathered bed. Your legs shook in the aftermath of your orgasm and you chest heaved.

The former merman removed his clothes, living him naked, and you greedily drunk in the sight before you with hooded eyes. He was beautiful. You had often thought about his naked form when you found him on the beach, but now that he was on top of you, between your legs, you couldn’t help but shudder.

His cock stood proud and his testicles were heavy with seed. Fat drops of pre-cum trickled from his weeping slit. Thick veins decorated the underside of his member, and it was flushed a brilliant pink color. It was large and you whined when you thought about him entering you.

“Please,” you panted, “I want you inside me.”

Those six words undid what little composure Brahms still had left, and without warning, he thrusted inside you, breaking the thin tissue that was nestled inside of you. A cry of pain and pleasure fell from your lips, and your husband rested his forehead against yours.

His lips moved and you read the silent words. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I will.’

You wrapped your arms and legs around him, and you peppered kisses along his scarred cheek. “I love you, Brahms,” you moaned.

His thrust faltered upon your heartfelt confession, and the merman nuzzled against your neck, placing tender kisses here and there, then he proceeded at a faster pace.

The two of you quickly found a rhythm, and with every thrust, the two of you became closer to your impending peaks. Beads of sweat collected on your chests, and after a particularly deep thrust, your nails dug into his back.

Brahms hissed and pressed his cock against your cervix, sending you over the edge. The walls of your sex clamped down hard around him, and the textured tissue squeezed his cock in a rhythmic pattern.

You clung to him with all your might as your soul momentarily left your body, and you cried your husband’s name.

Your pleasured cry of his name, and the squeezing of your walls against his cock became too much, and Brahms came with a silent cry. His thick seed shot out and you gasped at the feeling of being filled with your husband’s essence.

Brahms collapsed on top of you, his cock still inside of you, keeping you connected and his seed trapped within you. You ran your hands up and down his back, carefully tracing the red marks you left on his creamy, freckled skin.

Your husband hummed and licked the small drops of sweat from your breasts. He traced his tongue over your nipple and you gasped when he took the erect bead in his mouth. He suckled on it and looked up at you through lidded eyes.

He then flipped you over, not once removing his still erect cock from your semen filled center, and you balanced yourself on him by placing your hands on his curl dampened chest.

He moved beneath you and placed his hands on your fleshy hips. You smiled down at your husband and began riding him, determined to make the both of you ascend to the stars once more.

Brahms watched you sleep beside him, and he gently ran the tip of his fingers up and down your bare back. Your neck, chest and breasts were covered in dark love bites, and your combined fluids painted the inside of your thighs, with most of his cum nestled deep within you.

For once in his life, he felt happy.

“Oh, sweet Prince.” A familiar voice called out.

Brahms slowly and carefully climbed out of the bed, and wrapped a blanket around his naked waist. His bare feet carried him to the modestly sized balcony that was connected to the suite, and once he reached the railing, he glanced down.

Spume, the sea witch, was staring up at him with glowing golden eyes. She titled her head to the side and smiled. “The waves spoke of a beautiful wedding between a prince of the sea and a princess of land. I just had to see for myself.”

The former merman stared at the witch in indifference, causing the sea witch to laugh. She moved her hand and a large column of sea water propelled her into the air, towards Brahms.

Spume wrapped one arm around his head, allowing their lips to meet, and with her dominant hand, she opened his mouth. Purple magic swirled around his head, and something warm and orb-like entered his mouth. Once the orb rested on his tongue, Spume quickly pulled away.

“Swallow, Your Majesty.”

Not knowing what else to do, Brahms did as instructed. Something heavy settled in the center of his throat and he rubbed the spot that glowed golden.

“A wedding gift. Enjoy your new life, Prince Brahms.”

And with that, Spume returned back to the ocean and disappeared beneath the waves.

Brahms took a step back and mumbled, “What was that?”

His eyes widened and he tightened the grip around his neck. He had his voice back!

Brahms ran back into the bedroom and jumped onto the bed, starting you awake. You noticed Brahms’ excited expression and smiled tiredly.

“Darling, are you—”

“I love you!” Brahms cried, crashing his lips to yours once more.

And the two of you lived happily ever after.

#slasher x fairytale au #slasher x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire x you

203 notes · View notes