Chapter Text
A footman stepped up to help Phil out of the carriage.
Phil didn’t take their hand. He stepped out of the carriage, ignoring the glare that the footman shot at him, and let his feet fall onto the red carpet.
He stood tall. He made no effort to hide the slightest hint of the dissatisfaction that was present on his face. He couldn’t have fucking cared if they could all see him glaring through the veil. They might have been able to force him to get married to end the war, but they couldn’t force him to like it.
Phil’s husband-to-be waited for him at the end of the carpet. The Crown Prince was clad in the same armour Phil had seen countless times before on the battlefield.
Phil’s armour had been stripped of him. He had been reduced to nothing less than a prize. A great gesture of surrender from the End, making sure that the general who had actually managed to keep the would be given away to the winning side. He had been dressed by the finest tailors in the finest clothing that the End had to offer. He was bundled up with clothes that hugged all the right places without being too risque for high society.
He was a symbol of the peace that was to sprout between their two nations after all, it wouldn’t do for Phil to look like the whore they were turning him into.
Every step down the aisle was a countdown to Phil’s inevitable demise. He had no illusions over what this marriage would entail. The nobility had made his options incredibly clear. Either he be given over to the Nether as a bride or he would be transported here anyway to have his head separated from his shoulders.
Phil had taken the marginally better option. This way he could live in hope that his husband would die young, so Phil could enjoy his older years in relative freedom.
He had to tilt his neck upwards to meet the face of prince Technoblade. The Piglin prince was every inch a brute. He was over a foot taller than Phil. Every inch of him oozed power and strength. His broad shoulders showed off that the sword sheathed by his side was for far more than just show.
In another life Phil would have loved to see if he could have taken the piglin.
In this one he stepped next to him. He took a deep breath and looked into the bloody eyes that had been the last thing many of the men he had fought alongside would have seen. Phil had to stop his wings from flaring up, his subconscious trying to make him appear larger next to the massive piglin.
The head priest of the blood god, clad in deep red robes that matched the object of their devotion stood up to preside over their wedding.
The murmuring in their gathered crowd of onlookers went silent. Every dignitary and noble in the lands was present, packing the room to the brim with titled peers. None of them dared to be the one to break the silence.
“We have been brought together beneath the Blood God’s loving gaze,” the priest began, “to witness the marriage of Technoblade, crown prince of the Nether, champion of Hypixel, winner of the potato war and chosen general of the Blood God to Philza of the End.”
Philza almost scoffed at the endless strings of titles following his husband’s name.
At the priest’s words, Technoblade’s hand reached out to clasp Phil’s within his own. Phil squirmed slightly as Technoblade raised his hand up and held it out between them. With a deep breath he stilled his nerves and let the priest ramble on beside him.
He stared up at the piglin that he would fast be married to. A man that he hadn’t even spoken to before today. His face was hardly unpleasant to look at. A well-trimmed beard covered his chin. At a glance, you could have mistaken him for a human if it wasn’t for the large tusks that jutted out from his mouth and the unmistakably piglin ears that flopped down from either side of his head.
Technoblade’s long pink hair had been pulled into an intricate braid that peaked out from behind him as it passed his shoulder. Every other inch of his body was decorated with armour. The netherite gleamed with the violet light of the enchantments that coated it. A thick cloak hung from his shoulders draped behind him and fell towards the floor.
He looked every bit the general.
Phil hated him for it.
Phil had been stripped of his armour, of his possessions. He had been dressed in fine linens that did their best to reduce him to nothing. The waistcoat he wore was form fitting, pulling in at his waist to a near uncomfortable degree. His coat jacket flared out over his hips, dropping down towards his knees.
It was hardly unmodest. But without the weight of a second skin of netherite pressing down on him, Phil was naked.
The hand that wasn’t being presented for the ceremony curled into a ball at his side as the priest continued his monologue.
“Do you, Technoblade crown prince of the Nether, take Philza to be your husband. Do you, before the blood god swear to love him, to cherish him and to worship him, till death takes you?”
“I do.”
“Do you, Philza, of the End, take prince Technoblade to be your husband. Do you, before the blood god swear to love him, cherish him and obey him, till death takes you?”.
Phil’s heart crawled up into his chest.
“I do,” he said.
The priest gently placed his hand atop their clasped ones.
“I now pronounce you, wed. Prince Technoblade and Prince Philza. You may kiss.”
Phil’s stomach fell as the veil was pulled back over his face. His view was unobstructed by the sheer fabric. His last layer of protection was stripped away by the man who now owned him.
He closed his eyes as his husband leaned down.
Lips pressed against his. Phil’s wings twitched behind him. His body stayed stiff and unmoving until his husband pulled away.
Phil didn’t want to open his eyes. His heart fell in his chest. He had known how this day was going to end. Phil was owned. He had been traded away like a possession. In title he was more than he had ever been. In his heart he felt like less than nothing.
The cheers of triumph that erupted from the crowd were dull and quiet to Phil’s ears. The hand that was still clasped around his own felt like nothing but a cold breeze pressing against him. In the inferno that was the nether Phil was shivering more than he ever had in the End.
Phil fell into obedient step behind his husband. He followed him to their seat at the high table.
Food from all corners of the world was present at the tables. It was more luxury than Phil had enjoyed in his life. It should have been a mouth watering sight. Phil could smell the fineness, the myriad of flavours that came of the food.
But his appetite was gone.
He stared at the food for a long moment, not really looking at it.
He was shocked out of his daze by food being served down onto his plate.
“You should eat,” Technoblade insisted, “it's good, grew the potatoes myself.”
As if that had ever been what Phil’s problem was.
He forced himself to stomach the food. The fine herbs and spices were dull as they sat on his tongue. The delicious tastes turned to nothing but a weight that joined the rocks in his stomach.
His plate was finished before he knew it. Fine china stared back at him.
The weight in his chest was heavier than ever. There was no formality left to protect him from what came next.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Phil and Technoblade stood from the table.
Phil’s heart pounded in his chest.
He stayed a single step behind his husband, letting him lead the way towards their bedchambers. A pair of priests followed closely behind them. One priest from each kingdom. An assurance that both sides could be certain that the marriage was properly consummated.
Phil’s skin crawled with discomfort. His breaths were heavy.
The hallway walls were closing in on him. He was surrounded on all sides. He was trapped.
It was a nightmare.
It was a nightmare he was going to live for the rest of his life.
The bedroom was filled with more finery than any one man should have been able to have. It was more spacious than anything Phil could have expected, with several doors leading away to adjacent connected rooms.
Phil pointedly avoided staring at the large four poster bed that dominated the centre of the room. With his husband’s stature it must have been hand crafted for him, far longer and wider than any bed Phil had seen before. Just the sight of it made Phil’s stomach fall. His thighs squished together on instinct, desperately clinging to the last crumbs of protection he had left.
“So uhh, how do you want to do this?” Technoblade asked him.
Phil glared at him.
“Just get it fucking over with.”
Phil ignored the gasp of protest from the priest and robotically began to strip himself. He removed the many fine layers of fabric that covered his body with little care for their condition. They ended up in a messy pile on the floor.
With his body stripped, Phil stared back at his husband.
Technoblade stared back at him with a sombre expression. His eyes expressly avoided looking anywhere but Phil’s eyes.
“You gonna fuck me with your armour on?”
Technoblade blushed, quickly moving to rid himself of his armour.
Phil’s wings wrapped around his body. They covered him up, hiding his lack of clothing from the gathered crowd. It was a pointless effort. Phil would ensure peace. He would do his duty. No matter how much he might have hated his people for it.
No matter how hard he tried not to, Phil found his eyes drawn to Technoblade as the piglin stripped. His husband was unfortunately just as large with his armour removed as he was without. Technoblade seemed to be born and bred for combat. His naked form showed off his training and prowess, with arms like cannons, thick thighs that bulged with muscles, and a chiselled torso that would have made Technoblade look right at home amongst the finest of statues.
Phil gulped as his eyes met the cock sprouting from between his husband’s legs. It was entirely proportional to the monster of a man that Phil had been wed to.
He closed his eyes. A silent prayer on his lips that he would at least get pregnant quickly. He should have drunk more at his wedding dinner.
Phil locked eyes with Technoblade, who seemed to have frozen.
“Get over here and put a fucking baby in me,” Phil demanded, moving over to the bed and spreading his legs for his husband.
Technoblade took a deep breath, then joined Phil on the bed. His eyes briefly trailed down Phil’s body, settling on his cunt, before reaching over to drag a jar of something out of the bedside table.
Phil raised an eyebrow at him.
“Just fucking get on with it.”
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Technoblade reprimanded, slicking up his fingers and placing them at Phil’s entrance.
“Gonna win husband of the year for that one?” Phil asked him.
“Yeah,” Techno snorted, “gotta take care of the man I’m bound to for the rest of my life.”
The comeback on Phil’s lips was stolen away by a lubed finger dragging over his clit. His mouth snapped closed to prevent any hint of the pleasure slipping out from between them.
He wasn’t enjoying this. This was solely for the purpose of children. He hated his husband. He hated being bound to this piglin. He despised how Technoblade was pretending to care, putting on a show for the gathered priests. The priests wouldn’t care. Techno owned Phil. He could shove in dry, and he would still be binding their marital union by planting his seed in Phil’s womb.
Phil glared at his husband as the first finger carefully slipped inside of him.
He could hardly be described as wet. There was absolutely nothing about this situation that was doing things for him. He ignored the traitorous part of his head that told him that it could be; his husband wasn’t unattractive; his actions were hardly hurtful. Rage still burned too hot in Phil’s veins for a hint of lust to be able to slide in.
Technoblade was painfully careful. Crimson eyes constantly flicked up from Phil’s cunt to his face, searching for any signs of discomfort with even the slightest of movements.
“I’m not fucking delicate,” Phil huffed, “you’re not going to fucking break me.”
“You ready for a second finger then?” Technoblade checked in.
“I’m ready for you to get the fuck on with it,” Phil reprimanded.
Techno chuckled nervously at Phil’s impatience. His finger withdrew for a single second before slipping back in with a second finger pressed alongside it.
Phil worked to keep his face absolutely flat as tinges of arousal began to seep in. The pair of fingers that were slipping in and out of his cunt, with Technoblade’s free hand working its way over Phil’s clit could hardly be described as unpleasant.
His wings twitched behind him. A mixture of annoyance and arousal flooded through his veins.
Phil didn’t want to give in. He wanted to have a miserable time purely out of spite. He had imagined his husband forcing himself upon him and letting Phil crawl away to lick his wounds once he was finished with him.
This was so distant from anything Phil thought would happen that he didn’t know how to handle it.
His fury simmered off into a simple discontent as his husband continued to be careful with him. He treated Phil like he was made of glass, and that a single wrong move could break him.
Phil couldn’t decide if it was sweet or infuriating.
His eyes flicked up from Technoblade to settle on the pair of priests that ensured that they didn’t forsake their marital duty.
Just the sight of the pair of them, sitting their in their fine robes, made Phil’s blood boil. Their eyes were wide open, their expressions narrow and disapproving as they watched what the pair were up to.
It took two seconds of Phil staring at the pair of priests to entirely change his mind on what Technoblade was doing.
“Not enjoying the show?” Phil taunted, putting on an air of breathiness to his voice for the pair of them.
They glared fiercely at him. But neither of them dared to say a word. Phil was, or would be once his husband finally got around to fucking him, a prince of this kingdom. No matter how high the priests might have been they wouldn’t dare overstep on something so minor.
Technoblade’s eyes flicked back to the priests at Phil’s words, before settling on Phil’s face and raising an eyebrow.
Phil smirked back at him.
Maybe he could have some fun with this after all.
“Add another finger, we don’t want our fucking audience to be bored,” Phil taunted.
Techno shook his head in disbelief at Phil’s change in tone. That didn’t stop him from slipping in another finger.
Phil smirked and let his husband work him open as the priests watched on, a red blush appearing on their faces as Phil called them out.
The emotions pushed and pulled Phil’s heart. They warred inside of him, battling for control.
Phil’s body was quick to betray him. Technoblade’s fingers dragged against the sensitive spots inside of him, while his other hand serviced the nerve-filled bud. His cunt, which had begun this whole thing drier than a dessert was quickly beginning to drench itself with wetness, providing what lubrication the bottle couldn’t.
He grit his teeth together. He refused to give Technoblade the satisfaction of knowing that Phil was enjoying this.
But all of the pleasure that Phil was receiving was quickly gathering inside of Phil’s abdomen. His wings flicked slightly behind him with every slide of fingers against his most sensitive spots. Phil went white as his hips twitched against Techno’s fingers. His cunt clenched involuntarily around them, clamping down and drawing out yet more pleasure.
An orgasm was quickly beginning to flood into Phil’s guts. It was a heat that he couldn’t avoid. He was being dragged up a cliff by his most sensitive spots. The only way from here was down.
Phil didn’t want to give his husband the satisfaction of an orgasm. He trired to force his mind anywhere else. His intense hatred fought against the gentle pleasure. The scornful eyes of the priests fought against his husband’s gentle ones, that searched Phil’s face for the slightest signs of discomfort.
His legs shook. No matter how hard he clenched his teeth, he couldn’t stop the sounds from coming through. His wings twitched.
Phil’s cunt clenched down tight around Techno’s fingers. His breathing came out in short pants. A single noise slipped past his lips, as Phil’s head fell back onto the bedding.
The fingers stilled instantly in his cunt and withdrew from his clit, letting Phil ride out his orgasm.
“Fuck you,” Phil spat out, once he had regained his voice.
Technoblade slipped his fingers out.
“You wanna keep going or do you want a breather?” he asked.
Phil glared harder at him.
“I don’t need a fucking breather. I fought in your fucking war.”
“Bruh, I’m not saying that, I’m asking if you want a break?”
“No I don’t need a breather,” Phil said through gritted teeth.
Technoblade nodded, but his face remained entirely unconvinced. He scooted back on the bed. He laid down on the bed, with his head craned up so he could look back at Phil. He sat there for a moment, looking at Phil.
Phil raised an eyebrow at him.
“Uh, probably better you’re on top,” Techno explained, awkwardly.
Phil hated him for the pity. His blood boiled at the way his husband seemed to care, seemed to actually put effort into making sure this was good to Phil.
That didn’t stop Phil from fulfilling his duty. With rage blooming into the spots that pleasure seeped out of, Phil straddled his husband’s waist and perched himself atop Technoblade’s cock. He took several deep breaths as he grasped the cock between his fingers and placed the head at his entrance.
His heart hammered in his chest. His thighs trembled. It would have been so much easier if his husband had just forced himself onto Phil. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no other choice. It was this or death.
Phil sunk down.
He hissed as the head slipped inside of him. It felt far bigger inside of him than it had looked. His hands drop to Technoblade’s chest, keeping him afloat atop the dick that spread his cunt wider than ever. His thighs trembled as he slowly lowered himself down onto his husband’s dick.
A small part of Phil’s brain was suddenly grateful for the fingers he had been given, and were more than grateful for the added lube. There was no doubt that if Technoblade had shoved in dry that Phil would have torn. Phil’s thighs quaked, his hands the only thing keeping him from plummeting down as he slowly fell down. It seemed to just keep going, Phil let his body lower, and lower, letting the cock slide in deeper than the fingers could have ever dared, and he was still to meet with the stability of being seated on his husband’s waist.
He tried to tune out the sounds that his husband made, the gaze of the priests on his back as he rocked himself down on the dick inside of him.
Eventually Phil found himself fully seated atop Technoblade’s dick. A noise escaped from his mouth, sitting somewhere between pleasure and triumph.
There hadn’t been a single moment in Phil’s life where he had felt so full. Phil swore that it had carved out extra space inside of him to fit its sheer length, that if it was any larger that it would have had to shove his organs aside to make room inside of Phil’s cunt. For several long seconds Phil did nothing but sit there, basking in the feeling of fullness and panting from the exertion.
Phil moaned despite himself at the first experimental roll of his hips. The cock scraped against every sensitive nerve inside of him. His wings twitched behind him at every moment. His body quickly abandoning his anger in favour of seeking out the pleasure that would get this whole thing over with.
The sight was more than appealing enough to accompany the ride. From the vantage point of above his husband, Phil had more than a nice view. The toned body below him bulged with muscles, his thick arms tensed as they grasped the bedsheet. He stared up at Phil like he was his god, like he was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen, rather than Phil was just something he was stuck with to make sure that this treaty went through.
Gritting his teeth was becoming more and more difficult with each roll of his hips. He was churning his own insides, stirring himself up with the cock inside of him and sending waves of pleasure strumming through his veins.
Technoblade’s cock throbbed inside of him and Phil couldn’t help but moan. His powerful thighs began to put in the work, bouncing Phil up and down on the monster that was filling him up so good.
It was almost worse that this felt good. It would have been easier if it had been awful. Phil could have happily gone on hating his husband and stewing in his misery.
But Phil was setting the pace here. He was in control of his pleasure. Technoblade was nothing but a passenger as Phil steered the ship towards climax.
It wasn’t long before once more heat was beginning to build inside of his gut. The telltale sides of an orgasm was brewing on the horizon, growing closer and closer with each rise and fall of his hips.
Technoblade was unravelling beneath him. His dick throbbed and pulsed against Phil’s walls. His eyes cloudy and half-lidded as they watched the show.
“You better fucking cum,” Phil warned, his voice far less stable than he had hoped, “I don’t wanna do this again.”
His hips stuttered slightly. His thighs struggling to keep up as the pleasure thrummed through them.
“That’s not gonna be a problem,” Technoblade. promised, through gritted teeth.
Phil smirked.
If there were any inhibitions he had left they were gone. He was purely devoted to getting this over with, to doing whatever it took to bring himself to climax.
His hips rolled and rocked atop Technoblade’s cock. He bounced himself up and down, swirling the cock inside of him as he went, making the most of the cock he had momentarily allowed himself to enjoy. The dam inside of him was being pummeled by a flood of pleasure, and the cracks were quickly beginning to show.
Any restraint had been bullied out of him. The noises he made were pure and unrestrained, each one matched by Technoblade beneath him. His wings fluttered in time with the pulsations of pleasure that ran inside of him.
The pleasure built and built, crashing against the dam, bulging it outwards, putting more and more pressure on Phil’s core.
With a trill of pleasure, Phil came. He clenched down on the cock inside of him, dragging it inside and refusing to let him go. His thighs spasmed, no longer able to hold him up, forcing Phil to plummet down until he was once more fully seated on Technoblade’s cock.
A moment later Phil was blessed by the feeling of a cock pulsing inside of him. Ropes of cum splurted into Phil at such a depth that it might have well have been painting Phil’s womb with the climax.
Phil’s entire body felt like it was going numb. All the tension and anger that he had held inside of him was drained for several embarrassing seconds, where Phil was completely laid bare in front of the complete stranger that he had been wed to.
His face flared red as the realisation of what had just happened flooded into him. His wings folded over his chest, doing a poor job of hiding what had just happened.
He could pretend that he wasn’t involved. He could pretend that he this hadn’t been a good time. But even as the fury at his husband and the situation returned. There was no denying that the fluids drooling down Phil’s legs was more than just lube.
He dragged himself up of Technoblade’s softening cock. The emptiness felt foreign, as Phil traded in feeling everything for nothing.
He slumped onto the bed, beside his new husband, and glared back at the priests.
Technoblade seemed to pick up on Phil’s anger.
“You sticking around for a reason.”
One of the priests turned up his nose at them.
“I’m afraid,” he began, his voice demeaning and uncaring, “that due to the… unconventional… nature of your consummation we will require proof that you have in fact wed your husband.”
Phil’s eyebrows rose so high they threatened to escape from his forehead.
“You fucking what, mate?”
“Proof that your husband did in fact reach climax inside of you,” the priest explained like he was talking to a child, “that is the purpose of marriage after all.”
Technoblade stood up from the bed.
“How exactly do you propose that happens?” he asked, his tone deadly still.
“Either you could consummate the marriage in a more… traditional,” his eyes settled on Techno disapprovingly, “manner. Or you could offer some sort of proof that your husband has in fact taken your seed.”
Phil glared at them with all that he had. A hand balled up into a fist, his wings flared out behind him. A million words were on the tip of his tongue.
Instead, he reached down, let his fingers reach down inside himself, and scooped out a trace of the seed that remained inside of him. His face flushed with embarrassment, his body shook with anger as he held his fingers up to the pair of priests.
“Here’s your proof. Now fuck off,” he demanded.
Two wide eyes stared back at him. Their noses upturned at Phil’s actions, staring at the hand that was covered in a combination of slick and cum.
“I suppose,” the second priest acquiesced, “that this will be sufficient.”
Technoblade stepped up in front of them standing inches from them. He peered down at them from his tall stature.
“You heard my husband, leave.”
The priests didn’t need to be told twice. With one last disapproving stare back at the newlyweds the pair turned tail and fled out of the room. Neither of them said a word until both priests had fled the room.
Phil resisted the urge to relax. He was hardly safe. He didn’t trust his new husband as far as he could through him, and with the immense size of his husband, Phil wasn’t sure if he could throw him at all. He folded his wings over his body, covering up his nakedness from his husband’s eyes.
His husband snorted as he turned back around. His eyes rested on Phil, but made no move to sneak the peaks Phil was certain would be coming.
“You got nightclothes?” he asked.
The question was so out of left field that Phil was left momentarily speechless.
“You got a bath,” he asked back.
Technoblade grimaced at the question.
“Bath won’t be drawn till the morning. Apparently us being covered in grime betters your chance in pregnancy. Surprised they didn’t get us both to roll around in the mud first to really lock it in.”
Phil couldn’t help the laugh that slipped past his lips.
“Yeah, makes perfect sense. Gotta smell like shit to get pregnant after all.”
Technoblade snorted.
“You take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Phil stared at his husband in disbelief. Just the image of a person of Techno’s size trying to lay down on a couch that he would have swallowed sitting was downright comedic. A pang of anger flared back into Phil’s heart. They were fucking married. If his husband really hated him so much that he couldn’t stand being in the same bed as him then fuck him.
“We’re married, you planning to sleep on the couch for the rest of your life?” Phil asked.
“I spend a lot of time out on campaign,” Techno grumbled, “not exactly here often.”
“I was a fucking general, I’m not staying cooped up in this room while you head off to fight.”
Techno raised his hands in surrender.
“I didn’t mean anything… I uh, just thought, you might like the distance.”
“Bed. Now,” Phil demanded, dragging the covers up over himself.
Technoblade conceded. He climbed into the bed beside Phil, staying so close to the edge that he was practically falling out of it. Phil shook his head at his husband, laying back and doing his best to get to sleep. His body sunk into a mattress that was far softer than the hard ground Phil had gotten used to.
His body felt filthy. Without anything left to distract him Phil could feel the dried fluids that had previously slicked up his thighs.