#their silly mortal lives are ENOUGH

[ollypopwrites]

You don’t want Gale to resent you, you insist he doesn’t choose to give up the crown just for you.

It’s romantic, it’s poetic but it makes you anxious to think one day he will consider all he could have been and find you weren’t worth what he gave up.

When he does decide, when he remembers himself beyond his ambitions and returns the crown to her you vow to never let him regret it.

You sit in his lap, and offer him your endless devotion.

“If you ever desire worship, I’ll get on my knees,” you say as you slide off his lap to kneel between his legs.

And after you’ve made your offering he’ll get on the floor, achey joints be damned, to kneel with you.

“I can’t imagine a world where I think you beneath me, where you look at me and find no trace of the adoration I feel, have felt, will always feel for you.”

[ballzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz]

oughhhh

urgghhhhh,,,

dungeon meshi my love]]]]

[yieldtotemptation]

DEALS ft. Miyeon

... is this thing on?

written as a very late addition to @i-am-lifeform24's project.

miyeon x male reader smut

2k words

"Now that you're done with that," Miyeon starts, her voice firm, confident. The voice of someone used to giving you orders. "Take off your clothes."

The command hangs in the air between the two of you, and suddenly you’re under a microscope—but where most people would squirm, you stand tall.

"Okay."

"Okay?" If she was expecting a challenge, she wasn't going to find one here. After all this time, you know what she's looking for—what she expects from you—someone that can match her, that can meet her on her level. "No questions?"

"That is the deal," you answer matter-of-factly, your t-shirt already half-way over your head. "Money for my time, anything goes."

"Anything," she echoes, her usual stone-cold expression betrayed by a hint of excitement playing in her eyes, somewhat surprised that she managed to push the terms of a contract once made between two teenagers who didn't know any better into new territory.

Anything used to just mean silly tasks—cooking, cleaning, doing all the things that would absolutely not be suitable for her to do—but all just being an excuse for keeping Miyeon company.

That was until now.

Still, you don't have time to think about what’s changed between you fixing her sink and her watching you take off your pants—she’s decided that now is as appropriate an occasion as any to test your limits, and you’ve never been known not to oblige her.

It's only when you're stepping out of your briefs that you catch it—that break in her facade, the slight blush that creeps up her cheeks, that indication that maybe Miyeon isn't so far above the rest of Earth's mortals as she would like you to think.

"Having trouble finding somewhere to look?" You can feel her eyes following you, scanning up and down your body as you fold your clothes neatly, placing them on a corner of the nearby couch.

"The opposite." Whatever crack you just saw in Miyeon's composure is gone as quick as it arrived, and she's all business again, walking over to you, heels that let her meet your eyes clicking against the cold living room floor. "I don't have anywhere I don't want to look."

It's no secret that you feel the same—she's an absolute work of art. It's in the sway of her hips, the curve of her waist, the swell of her lovely, petite breasts under her sheer, near see-through shirt. But you're not here to just admire her. You're here to serve, to satisfy, to be of use.

She stops, close enough that her exhales become your inhales, close enough that the smell of whatever she's wearing—something smoky, something ludicrously expensive—drives you wild.

Close enough that when her eyes alone make you twitch, she feels it brush against her waist.

"Look at me."

Another demand obeyed—all part of the deal.

Maybe it's the light, maybe it's the proximity—her eyes are darker than you remember, a deep brown that would swallow you whole, if only you'd let them.

"Hands," she says next, and she's taking hold of your wrists, pulling them to her, to her body—her unfathomably-tight waist—squeezing down on your fingers to make sure she's locked in your grip. "Now kiss m-"

You're jumping the gun, pulling her closer to you, pulling her lips into yours, warming your tongue with hers, tasting sweetness, tasting her eagerness—or more correctly, her neediness.

She’s opening the door a little, letting you discover a part of her that she's been hiding from you, truly meeting her for the first time—her left hand finding the nape of your neck, her right reaching down below, wrapping fingers around you, holding you against her.

"Mmmph..." She's moaning into you now, her hands are on the move, feeling, stroking—soft, delicate fingers taking your full measure, all the way from the tip... all the way to the base.

It’s making you grow bigger for her, too big for her dainty grip, but she squeezes back against you, gliding her hand up and down, up and down, again and again—all for her pleasure, showing you that no matter how good she's making you feel, it's making her feel better.

That’s when you break the rules for the first time, taking the initiative and running your hands up her back to the lift up her shirt, wanting to catch just a glimpse of more of her flawless, porcelain-white skin. Before you can boldly make your move, she's pushing back against your chest with her free hand, releasing your lips and leaving you with a groan, halting you in your tracks.

"No," she whispers, her eyes darkening with something that isn't quite anger, but is definitely a warning. "Not yet."

A gulp and a nod is all you have for her in response, but it's enough to satisfy her—enough to return her lips to your body, to continue her excruciatingly delightful movements over your shaft.

Her breath is hot, heavy, as she plants kisses on your neck, your collarbone—tracing lines down your chest with her tongue, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. Miyeon's eyes lock onto yours as she continues her expedition, watching you watch her work—watch her make you unravel.

Every movement is intentional—the lower her lips get, the slower her strokes, each more deliberate, each one a silent experiment of how much you can bear.

She takes her time, until at last, finally, she's on her knees before you—no longer stroking, no longer moving—just breathing on you, staring at you, frozen in fascination at your length—at what she's done to you.

And then she licks her perfect, pretty, pink lips.

"Miyeon-" is all you can muster, but it’s too late—she's taking you in—inhaling you—warm—fucking hot—lips wrapping around you, forcing you to hold your breath as she brings you deeper, deeper into her throat.

You had expected teasing, torture even—but not this—not her tongue sliding under your shaft, not her moans around your cock, not her eyes watering as she breathes you in, making a mess of you until her nose has met your chest and your tip has met the back of her throat.

It takes all your strength to keep your knees from buckling as she keeps you there, keeps you down her throat, testing herself against you. The pleasure is overwhelming, intense, but for the two of you it's the power play—she's the one looking up at you, her makeup smudged, eyeliner a disaster—yet she's in complete and total control, feeling your body tighten from just a flick of her tongue, feeling you get closer and closer to the edge.

"Gah-" she rises back up off you, unsheathing your cock from her throat, a glob of her spit following behind her, a glistening bridge from her lips to your tip. She's grinning wildly now, so fucking pleased with herself, so turned on by having conquered you—having conquered your cock. "I did it."

But you don't get to recover—how silly of you to think she would let you—and her lips are back on you, lightning shooting up your spine as she takes in half of you, before releasing—again and again and again.

She's bobbing up and down, putting on a show for you—letting you see how her cheeks hollow, how her lips take you in, how you make her eyes water and how her tongue does it’s best to break you—a masterful dance that somehow makes you feel both worshiped and utterly dominated.

"Mmmmm..." A flick of her tongue against your tip lets you know that she's tasting you, tasting the warm pre-cum leaking past her lips. "I fucking knew it," she murmurs, her voice low, but loud enough for you to hear. "Knew that you would be this big—knew that I could take whatever you had."

"God, Miyeon—" you eke out a groan as she starts to stroke you again, keeping up the pace, keeping up the pleasure.

"Knew that you would taste this good—knew that it would feel this fucking good in my throat."

She doesn't wait for an answer—doesn't need one—her tongue is already back on you, painting your cock with her saliva, up and down, around and around.

It's her moans around you—she's loving this, loving doing this to you—so much so that she doesn't even mind it when you thread your fingers through her hair, pulling on her more forcefully than you intended, desperately pushing more of yourself into her. She takes it, welcomes it, confident that if it came down to it, she would be the last one standing.

You still try—stopping her head still and start to move—start to pound away. Her eyes widen, but she doesn't pull away, not even when you pick up speed, not even when her moans get muffled and you're hitting the back of her mouth, not even when you're the one setting the pace and burying your cock down her hot, tight throat.

It's in her eyes—the challenge, the suggestion—use me, break me if you can—cum—give it to me.

Her hands are on your hips, beckoning you, pushing you to go faster, to fuck her face harder—encouraging you, egging you on. And so you do—you give in to the instinct that's been burning in your veins since she first made you strip for her—you fuck her mouth, her throat, ruin that gorgeous, fucking irresistible face as she struggles to keep up.

Tears are streaming down her eyes now, her breaths coming in ragged gasps around you, but she never looks away—her gaze holding yours, telling you that she's okay, that she wants this—that she can take this.

You shouldn't be fucking her face this hard—it shouldn't be possible to—but you keep going, groaning—"Miyeon", "fuck", "God"—and just when you're about to slip, just when you're about to completely fall apart in her mouth, she forces herself off you, seizing back control and holding you at your base, aiming directly at her picture-perfect visage.

"Cum for me," she squeezes you, wringing you, wanting you. "Do it."

You throb, you explode, you cum, you obey—because that's what she’s asking of you.

It takes every effort to keep your eyes open—to see Miyeon—as you feel the orgasm ripping through your body, the heat spilling from you and onto her face, her chin, her neck—onto a carefully manicured eyebrow, and an undeniably cute dimple. Your cum showers her, paints her, masking her with your release.

And Miyeon takes it, takes all of it, eagerly, smiling up at you through the mess, poking out a tongue to taste as much of you as she can, despite it still overflowing and dribbling down the corners of her mouth.

You shake, you want to collapse, but Miyeon keeps her hold on you, looking up at you like you're her fucking property—and maybe in this moment, you are. Her eyes are glazed over, her cheeks are flushed, and through the cum you can see that devastating smile as she swallows and drinks what remains of you down.

"So fucking good," she whispers, her hand still moving, still stroking you, placing soft, sweet kisses on your exhausted cock, still sending those tingles of pleasure shooting through you. "I knew you would be amazing."

"Fuck, Miyeon."

But she's already rising, on her feet and looking at you expectantly, wiping the excess from her chin with the back of her hand. "I want more," she states. It’s simple. It’s a command. "Take me to the bedroom."

And she's already walking away, peeling off her clothes, soft fabric meeting the floor as you catch a sight of the lovely slope of her back, the perfect curve of her ass—her body bared before you, calling for you to take it.

“Come on,” she calls out to you, “we’re just getting started.”

You stumble forward, following after her—obeying her wishes.

Because why wouldn't you?

That was your deal.

---

A/N: thanks again to @i-am-lifeform24 for actually managing to get me to finish something. what a legend.

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Long ago, you were cursed to one day sleep for an eternity—unless you’re presented with true love. You thought destiny couldn’t find you on the high seas, but when you're sorely mistaken, it's up to a certain swordsman to get his act together and rescue you from eternal sleep.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: zoro x princess!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: tw blood, sleeping beauty au, meddling faeries here and there, stubborn swordsmen and lovelorn princesses, no use of Y/N, light angst, major fluff

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: falling - timothy cole

𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢,

a very many years ago, twelve Wise Women from the Isle of Perminion—faeries was a more precise term, but they felt the label struck too much fear into their mortal fellows, and in this economy, faeries need willing clientele—were invited to the presentation of a young princess from an old kingdom. Each bestowed upon her gifts coveted by all. Beauty, grace, love, and the like. 

It was the thirteenth Wise Woman who took it all back.

“You dare not invite me to this celebration of life? Fine. Forget me. But not before I give the princess my own gift. She’ll grow beautiful, wise, and loved, as my fellow Wise Women decreed—but one day she’ll lose all that to the prick of a spinning wheel and fall dead to my power!”

Your life had just begun, and had already gone to shit (forgive such undignified language, unfit for a princess, but really, you felt you deserved some leeway).

The whole of the kingdom knew the witch’s speech by heart, saying a prayer each night in the hope that their princess would be fortunate enough to never cross a spinning wheel in all her life. And from the rail of her tower’s terrace, the princess dreamed of someday joining them. Not in their prayers, but in celebration that even the worst curses are no match for the blessed princess of their kingdom. Blessed, as she once was, before the outrage of Carabose found her.

But that was only the dream of a foolish child.

Foolish dreams. You were cursed not only in the very literal sense but also by the paranoia of your parents, the king and queen of your revered nation. Not a soul outside the castle walls had seen their princess since the day of her introduction—the day you were cursed to one day cross the spindle of a spinning wheel, and die.

Well, not die. Your godmother, Rosalie—the twelfth Wise Woman and the only one that mattered in your opinion—had gifted you a chance at survival. 

“The princess will not die upon pricking the spinning wheel. She shall only sleep till… till she receives a display of true, compassionate, unbridled love.”

It was the first thing Rosalie could think of that would lessen the blow of the witch’s spell. 

And yet despite this security, your parents locked you away, terrified of what would happen to their little princess should she cross that fated hunk of wood. Honestly, it was beyond embarrassing being destined to be bested by a hunk of wood, but that’s just your luck, you supposed.

It was also just your luck that one day when you’d just barely given up all hope of living a fulfilling life, a certain crew of pirates found your kingdom, caused the uproar of the century, and managed to help you escape all in just two days. 

With the wind in your face some months later, it seemed all your dreams of grandeur were coming true; far away from your castle, you sailed the seas with real friends at your side. You never worried about your curse, for why would you ever find a spinning wheel at sea? It was silly to fear the fate set before you. 

Rosalie always told you that destiny cannot be fought, but look at you now, proving her wrong. 

(It’s like you were asking for things to go wrong).

The day was windy and bright, with sparse clouds high above and cool grass underfoot. The Going Merry rest at the docks of the little coastal city, Usopp making repairs in record time. You couldn’t help but wish to go out and explore, taking full advantage of your freedom.

You took Zoro with you, of course. You’d never leave the ship without your loyal guard at your side. 

Zoro. What to say about Zoro? In your opinion, he was probably the love of your life, if he ever got over himself and admitted he loved you too. Either way, you would never picture life without him by your side, even if he brushed off all your teasing advances with a roll of his eyes.

“Here,” you motioned him to your side, feeling warm inside with the familiar bump of his shoulder against yours. You picked up one of the ornate golden rings displayed at the market stall before you, grinning like a devil as you lifted your hand to measure it up against your skin. “What do you think? I prefer silver, but gold would match your earrings.”

Zoro, lovely and clueless Zoro, only tilted his head, aforementioned earrings chiming against one another. “I think it's nice, but why d’ya wanna match?”

By the time you slipped the ring on your fourth finger, he saw where this was going. “Hmm, no reason.” You handed the ring back to the seller and smiled up at Zoro’s perturbed, blushing face. 

“Sorry, you’re just so easy to tease.” He grunted in reply, drawing another smile out of you. Your eyes got all misty, like they always did when you looked at Zoro, and the words escaped your lips before you could stop them. “Go out with me.”

Zoro kept his gaze firmly on the sky, his shoulders far too stiff to be comfortable. “We’re… too busy for stuff like that.”

It all felt like a mildly disappointing routine at this point; you asked, he dodged around giving you an explicit no. Perhaps if he actually got the nerve to deny you, you’d have given up, but Zoro always left you with that small hope that one day his answer might change.

Still, something in you held the strong consideration to give up. Lovelorn and yet hopelessly deep, it was a tempting option. Surely, pursuing someone so adamantly disinterested was a lost cause. But what if, you dared to call back, silencing your doubts.

“C’mon,” you relented. “I need some new fabrics.”

You scooped up his hand and he let you drag him down the street to a little boutique on the corner. The door rang when you entered, and Zoro tried to ignore how your hand still clung to his even as the door clicked shut behind you.

“I wanted to make Nami a new dress,” you said as you beelined for the shelf of various fabrics. “You know, to make up for the one I ripped.”

He didn’t try to pull back, only standing at your side as you skimmed your free hand over a set of pinks. “Still don’t get how you ruined it that badly. It was practically in two pieces.”

“You were there. I was in a tree.”

“But why?”

Your silly smile rose to meet his gentle grin. “Because I wanted to? You could have joined me, but no, you stayed all alone on the ground like a loser.”

“If I was in the tree, who would catch ya’ when you fell like an idiot?”

With a scoff, you let go of his hand and picked up some pink and blue fabric, failing to see him watch you longingly. “Touche.”

Zoro was never sure what to make of you—you were like nothing he’d ever faced before. The day you waltzed into his life and started up your little flirtation game was the day Zoro found his most formidable opponent in the love you shared so willingly.

There was your habit of getting into trouble too—trouble he often dragged you out of—which didn’t help much either.

Zoro thought princesses were meant to be graceful and poised, as Vivi was, but you toppled those expectations at the very foundation. At this point, it wasn’t really a question of if he returned your feelings, but if he was able to voice it. As far as Zoro was concerned, the answer would always be a firm no.

As you started to stack the pink and blue on your arm Zoro reached to take them from you, draping the fabric over his shoulder. He returned your appreciative smile with a slight nod, heart warm at how you doted on him with your eyes alone.

Yeah, it was better this way—you waiting for something that would never happen, and him standing stoic at your side, nothing but a loyal companion.

“Miss.” Your voice, calling to the cashier, broke him from his less-than-happy thoughts. “Have you got any purple?” You swiftly turned back to Zoro with a brief, “Robin said she likes purple.”

The cashier looked up from her book, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I just finished some this morning,” she said with a grin, getting up to lift the gate in the counter and motioning for you to follow her into the back of the shop. “I’ll show you.”

Zoro’s skin prickled as you glided after the cashier, shooting him a smile as you disappeared through the door. He was left standing with the odd sense that something was wrong. 

Maybe it was the way a sudden draft hit his back despite there being no ventilation, or maybe it was the fact that you walked under a ladder earlier just to piss him off. Or, perhaps, it was the flash of green in the cashier’s eyes as she passed by a mirror.

Whatever it was, he stayed put, trusting he would be there to help you the moment you needed him. Zoro was always there when you needed him. Neither he nor you had reason to doubt this fact.

You felt completely at ease as you entered a small, dim room full of messy shelves, half-knit sweaters, and heaps of yarn. “Here,” the cashier pointed to a table at the center of the room. “Is this the shade you had in mind?”

A grin split your face as you felt the fabric, marveling at its softness. It was high-quality stuff, definitely not cheap. But you thought of Robin, who had done so much for you, and felt it was worth the possible loan from Nami.

“It’s perfect,” you replied. “How much?”

“Oh, it’s on the house.”

You startled instantly, eyes darting up to find the cashier absent from your side despite her voice being right in your ear. “Come again?”

“You can have it.” Turning slowly, you found the woman sorting through a surplus fo purple fabrics. “I have plenty.”

A gentle laugh escaped you. “Thank you so much. My friend will love it.”

The cashier swiveled on her heel and leaned against the table, head cocked to the side. Had her eyes always been so vibrant an emerald? They almost seemed to glow. “No, thank you, Your Highness.”

Chills ran up your spine at the formal address, all air expelled from your body as you choked out, “Pardon me?”

Caught up in the green of the woman’s eyes, you didn’t notice a misty tendril swirling up your body till it clouded your vision, directing your captured attention to the corner of the room. There in the shadows was a contraption you’d never seen before, yet you knew its purpose instantly. 

The purple string being woven gave it away. How had you not noticed the spinning wheel before? 

The fabric slipped from your fingers and fell to the floor in a lump. You darted for the door, yet your feet never moved an inch, cemented in place. Was that a tear on your cheek? No, it couldn’t be. You never cried. And yet, a salty streak ran from your eye to your jaw now, as if your body knew what your mind denied: your fate had caught you.

“Stop.” You weren’t sure who you spoke to. Your feet that started to creep toward the spindle? The husk of a woman, possessed by some evil spirit of a bitter sorceress? Destiny herself? Whoever you ordered refused to listen as you closed in on the wheel and raised a steady hand.

A half-lived life flashed before your eyes. A princess sat alone in a room, loneliness her only companion. A girl stood on a ship, tasting freedom for the very first time. A woman stared at a man, knowing this was what love felt like. 

A light pinch shocked your whole body, and you finally broke from the spell to find your index finger pierced into the sharpest of spindles. A cackle echoed from every corner of the room as the cashier collapsed on the spot. 

One thought broke through your slowly fading mind. Traitorous, wobbly feet took you to the door, flinging it open and leaning you against the doorframe. Your heavy eyes ached, Zoro’s voice so far away. You didn’t feel his hands on your arms as you sank to the floor.

Your labored, panicked breathing matched your flickering, terrified eyes. “Spindle.”

And you lay fast asleep in Zoro’s arms a moment later, peace written in your features. Your chest rose and fell gently. Zoro gazed down at the sleeping beauty, uttering your name over and over, practically paralyzed… Until he noticed the tiny bit of blood dripping from your fingertip, and he looked into the ajar room. A spinning wheel stood right in his line of sight, the wheel creaking as it spun slowly.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

You had never told any of your friends about the curse, too embarrassed to do so. Was that a lapse in judgment? Perhaps, but you were too asleep to know.

Now Chopper stood at your side, holding his stethoscope over your heart. He set the scope around his neck a moment later, putting his hooves together nervously. Chopper felt the whole crew staring at his back like a brand. “I think—Well, I think she’s sleeping.”

Luffy had been deathly silent through the whole ordeal, not taking his eyes off you since Zoro carried you back to the ship in a hurry. “Then let’s wake her up.”

Sanji slapped a hand over his mouth before Luffy could start yelling, shoving out a sigh. “We tried that, didn’t we? Marimo shook her for five minutes before we could pry him off her.”

Everyone waited for when the swordsman would quip back his own insult, but the usual pattern was thrown off by a strange silence. Even Sanji looked around, confused to find Zoro nowhere in sight. 

Sanji blinked a few times before he placed his hands on his hips. “Now where the fuck is he?”

From the corner, seated in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, Robin spoke up for the first time all evening. Her thoughtful eyes stared into the space ahead of her. “I saw him leave a moment ago. Said he had to get something.”

Not even a second later did Zoro barge down into the galley. In one hand he held a spinning wheel of all things. In the other, he held a woman’s arm in a vice. 

Nami jumped to her feet, aghast. “Zoro, what—?”

He nearly threw the woman before them all, his brows drawn into an expression of ruthlessness. “Well? What did you do to her?!”

With her eyes wide and breaths short, the woman violently shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean!”

Sanji stepped forth intending to sock Zoro in the face for scaring the woman, when Zoro turned on him and spat, “This woman’s the reason she’s—she’s sick!”

That was all it took for Sanji, somehow still poised, to face the terrified woman now encircled by a crowd of frowning pirates. Sanji grabbed the woman’s arm, not as harshly as Zoro had, but just as firmly. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” she sputtered, gazing over at where you laid limply on the table. “I… I remember her. She wanted purple fabric.”

Zoro nearly had the mind to throttle the woman. “You led her into the back room and minutes later she stumbles out and—and sleeps!” He slammed the spinning wheel on the ground, startling everyone around. “She said spindle. What’s this? Some sort of… torture device?”

The woman did nothing but blink at him. “It’s a spinning wheel.”

“What’s it do?”

“It spins.” Suddenly the woman had the nerve of a warrior, righting herself to face Zoro’s glare. “I don’t know what you think I did, but I didn’t. All I know is I led her to the fabric and…” 

All her words fell short as she stuttered to find them, her brows screwing together. “And I don’t remember. I—I don’t remember what happened.”

Sanji seized her shoulders and leveled her with a look. “I need you to remember, madam. It means that girl’s life or death.”

The woman stood frozen, stunned as she stared into Sanji’s eyes, her cheeks turning a concerning shade of pink. Nami rolled her eyes and promptly shoved him out of the way, snapping in the woman’s face. 

“What do you mean you don’t remember?” Nami asked sharply.

“I mean I don’t remember.” Their captive grew increasingly frustrated, and maybe a bit nervous as well. “I walk that bitch into the back, I black out, and I wake up to this guy dragging me out of my home!”

Just as Zoro gasped (“Bitch, huh?”), Robin stood and slowly made her way toward the spinning wheel, running her hand over the wood and grazing a finger over the sharp needle. Inspecting the spindle close, she found a bit of dried blood there. She hummed, keeping everyone on edge, and went toward your sleeping form, grabbing your hands and turning them over. “Ah-ha…”

Zoro stepped forward, anxious. “What?”

“I think she poked herself on the spindle.” Robin made it sound so simple.

Nami tapped her finger to her nose as she pondered. “But why would that make her… sick?”

“Poison?” Chopper offered at the same time Robin answered, “Magic.”

“We don’t have time for speculation,” Sanji gritted as he fished around his pockets for his lighter, cigarette between his teeth. “Can we test for what poison it could be?”

As Chopper started to ramble about some tests he could run, Zoro stared daggers at the spinning wheel. Now, he wasn’t superstitious, but perhaps he was a little stitious, because the longer he stared at the wheel the more he remembered about what transpired in that shop.

“Why would it be magic?” Zoro asked suddenly, silencing the room. 

All eyes found Robin, who was now sitting on your bedside holding your hand. “She’s a princess, right? The princesses in the stories I’ve read dealt with a lot of bad magic.”

Nami shook her head. “This isn’t a story, Robin.”

The debate went on like that, really going nowhere at all, the cashier woman tentatively slinking away during the rabble and inevitably going forgotten. Luffy ignored them all, approaching you and lifting your hand to inspect as if he’d find some kind of sign in your pierced fingertip. 

And just maybe, he did find something. “Hey, Nami?”

She ran a hand over her face as Sanji and Zoro took jab after jab at one another, the stress of your condition getting to the both of them. “Yeah, Luffy?”

He followed a very excited thought bunny here and there, after princesses and stories until it hopped to a stop in front of a certain royal friend of theirs. You appeared next, smiling like he wished you would now. “Vivi? Yeah, I know her. We go way back.”

“Call Vivi,” he ordered, closing the discussion as he too sat at your side and started to poke at your sides, as if tickling you would be enough to break this spell.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Often, your dreams gave way to the most horrible nightmares, and always, you would find refuge in the realm of day. Until now. No matter where you ran a firm sheet of black blocked you in. Air as frigid as the Arctic enveloped you. No friend in sight, no solace from the cold. 

Finally falling still, you blinked, and you stood in the middle of your tower, back in your kingdom. The high-reaching walls created that familiar dome painted with the long-forgotten stories of your people. The marble floors chilled your bare feet. Your bed leered at you from the far wall, whispers inviting you back into its clutches that would send you spiraling further into this forever sleep.

Panic surged up your chest till you gasped for air, losing your grip quicker than you could keep up with. Laughter taunted you from every corner till you started to scream and shout and call out for anyone to help you. But the door held fast against your pulling and thick briar thorns wrapped all around the balcony. 

Still, you clawed at the spiraling thorns, prying to see through, blistering your palms on their heated stalks. Your whimpers were followed by a loud, echoed roar, a harsh gust of wind cast down from the wings of a soaring lizard you’d only ever dreamed of. 

You whirled around to catch a better view of the creature’s mass, clutching at your heart as those gargantuan claws settled down on the tower of your bedroom. Two nostrils blew smoke that encroached the balcony and the depths of your room. The dragon’s eyes held no mercy as she gazed down with malice. 

This curse played a cruel joke, trapping you within the bars of your own mind, turning your fantasies against you. Your every turn showed you more wonders turned horrors the longer you searched for them; the clouds formed words you wouldn’t dare to repeat, the grass down below burned in confusing patterns, and the voices of those you held dear echoed from somewhere nearby.

Your fretful mother. Your paranoid father. The gossiping handmaidens. The superstitious priest. All lamented your fate, screaming how they knew it was a matter of time before the curse finally found you, tearing into you for ever even dreaming of leaving. You really should have stayed. This wouldn’t have happened if you’d piped down and stayed.

Then it was Luffy, Nami, and Usopp. “Why did you ever ask her to join us?” “Not sure. I thought she was something she wasn’t.” “She’s just a liar.” “A dead weight.” “A curse.”

Robin’s voice pierced her eardrums as your knees hit the ground. Why had she ever given you the time of day? Some sheltered little princess without enough common sense to know a spinning wheel when she saw one. And Chopper, his sweet voice turned sour. How pathetic. Beaten by a piece of wood.

The worst of it all was when his voice broke through all the rest despite how she tried to ignore that rumbling tone she once learned to crave. Zoro’s words were direct and clear. She’s finally gone. God, I was this close to just silencing her stupid mouth myself.

To think he would ever actually love her? How foolish of you.

The walls of your dreams closed in swiftly, caging you in and suffocating your hopes till you were left a husk, floating amidst the torment. 

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Vivi had been silent for so long Luffy wondered if she’s gotten distracted and walked off. Nami shuffled closer to the snail transponder. “Vivi?”

“Sorry,” her voice reappeared, a slight crack to it. “I just… you said she pricked a spindle?” Nami hummed in agreement, and Vivi expelled a long sigh. “She’s been asleep since? You can’t wake her?”

“That’s what we said,” Zoro snapped, shutting up at Nami’s sharp glare.

“It’s just… I mean, I’ve only heard stories. She only talked about it once, in a letter she wrote to me. That’s the only way we could talk since her parents locked her away—”

“Stories about what, Vivi?” Nami guided the tense princess back as Zoro started to pace back and forth, his hands raking at his hair.

She was silent for two whole seconds, and then, “The curse.”

The whole room fell still.

“They say a dark Wise Woman cursed her when she was baby, so that one day, she would prick her finger on a spinning wheel’s spindle… and die.” She rushed to amend herself, “But then another Wise Woman fixed it. She won’t die, but fall asleep… until someone shows her an act of true, unconditional love.”

For a long while the whole room is held captive by silence, eyes flickering to where you snoozed nearby. Zoro couldn’t look away. The way you looked so peaceful pained him in a way, knowing you were trapped in a place he couldn’t save you from. At least the tiny grin on your face gave him confidence your everlasting dreams were nice.

“How do we do that?” he heard himself asking.

“I—I don’t know. I thought it was a story to justify her isolation—”

“Well, obviously not.”

“Zoro,” Nami’s words cut sharply. “Take a walk.”

“But—”

“Walk.”

He stood with as much noise as he could, knocking his chair back and stomping out of the room. Zoro stopped just at the door to cast a look at you, highly aware of the eyes of everyone on him. His hand closed around the doorframe, his heart tightening, and he left without another word. 

Letting the others see how much he cared for you would just make everything infinitely worse. Zoro couldn’t handle that level of teasing on top of your sickness.

Zoro stepped out onto the deck, now basked in moonlight, and rushed to lean against the railing. His skin felt feverish in contrast to the cold dread coursing through his veins. Why hadn’t you said anything? Sure, he probably wouldn’t have believed you, but maybe… maybe he wouldn’t have let you leave his side so quickly.

And now this? This formidable task would supposedly save you. An act of true love? What could that even mean?

With his eyes on the sky, Zoro let out a shaken sigh. He would tear every one of those stars down if it meant you would be okay. Would that be enough for this curse? Or would he have to take down the moon as well and lay it at your feet?

No… no, certainly nothing he could do would ever be strong enough to save you. For so long he’d put off your advances, too stubborn to face the emotions building up in his heart… Zoro doubted he held the strength to perform such an act, and that notion threatened to crush him. 

He too had read the stories Robin spoke of; stories of princes who swooped in and saved the princess with a kiss. You needed one of them—those princes—and Zoro was far from royalty.

If anything, he was the knight in rusted armor who failed.

But, an idea crept out of the depths of his mind, crawling to the surface till his heart pumped at the possibility. He was no prince, no knight, and no cursebreaker—but Zoro was a hunter.

He burst back into the galley with a crazed look in his eyes. “Vivi?”

Her voice crackled out from the startled snail. “Yes?”

“Where do we find this Wise Woman?”

Not even a day later, the crew set out on the sea once more, a new destination in mind: the secluded island of the so-called wise and elusive faeries. 

Zoro stood at your bedside, too afraid to reach out and take your hand, making a solemn oath.

“I will find a way to save you if it is the last thing I do.”

If only the swordsman would have known—the strongest of magic lies in promises. If only Zoro had the eye to see the tendrils of magic curling around your sleeping body, tightening around you as the curse shivered away from his declaration. Spirits hissed from the corners fo the room and shied away from the mere passion behind his eyes. Somewhere distant a sorceress coiled her fists around nothing as her hold on the slumbering princess slipped through, little by little. Could he have fathomed it, he would have known he held more honor than the mightiest of princes. 

But he couldn’t fathom it, so he failed to notice the magic encircling his heart, seeking out any cracks in his steel-strong pride. There were none to find. The magic had nowhere to go, and until the hunter’s pride wore down, nothing would change. 

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Your godmother turned out to be a real bitch, by Zoro’s standards. First off, she was waiting for them on the shore, like a creep. In her witchy get-up, Zoro could have mistaken her for the one he meant to run through with his sword. 

“What’re you supposed to be,” he sneered as she made her way up the gangway, practically making herself on home on the deck. 

She met his glare equally. “I’m your only hope, dear. Now wipe that look off your face. You’ll get stuck like that.”

Rosalie took control of the situation in her stride, heading down to the galley and acting as if she owned the place. Only Nami seemed to be put off by this, standing at Zoro’s side with her arms folded as the rest of the crew gathered around the Wise Woman.

“She was always too stubborn for her own good,” said Rosalie fondly, a tiny grin on her lips. “Luckily for you, Carabose never strays far from the island. It’s the source of our power, and the poor, scaly, greedy thing would just die if she lost her magic.”

The radiant faerie pulled her dark curls forth, scrunching up her angular nose as she thought of the witch to blame for her dear princess’s condition. She sucked in a breath and released it harshly, suddenly appearing much older than before. “I must thank you. My princess deserves so much more, and you managed to give it to her, if only for a little while.”

“You talk as if she’s dead,” Nami grumbled. The look Rosalie gave her then was far less than comforting.

“Well, unless you have a source for true love nearby, she’s as good as it.” Zoro’s hand closed around the hilt of his sword, his eyes slamming shut as that grief washed over him again. Rosalie’s eyes flickered to him, an unnoticeable shine in her eye and a tilt in her lips. 

(Wise Women see much more than the normal eye, and just now Rosalie spotted the remarkable fuchsia tendrils of a very special kind of magic, so rare many thought it mere myth… yet it was swirling around the swordsman’s heart).

She turned to face the crew in their entirety, her expression grave. “Only the caster may raise a curse unless it is broken according to certain parameters. I may be able to deal with Carabose through negotiation. We… have a history.” Rosalie ruffled slightly. “She might have mercy and relinquish the curse herself.”

Zoro scoffed, drawing the faerie’s attention. “And if she doesn’t?”

Rosalie’s eyes flashed. “Then I’ll cut her down and hope that is enough.”

Sanji shook his head, blinking like he was forcing himself to deny Rosalie’s beauty. “And what will we do?”

“You’ll be with me. If Carabose dies and she does not wake… one of you will have to make a sacrifice.” Rosalie assessed them all with cool eyes, reveling in their discomfort, till she cracked a smile and tossed her head back. “I jest, I jest! However, we will need to come up with a display of true love after the deed is done and our princess has not woken.”

Zoro continued to bristle at the faerie’s coolness, grinding his teeth as she floated about the room, mumbling to herself. He dropped his swords on the table with a clang, startling Rosalie. “I can kill the witch myself. Give me ten minutes, and it’ll be done.”

“I know you are desperate to save your friend, Swordsman,” Rosalie simpered. “But you’ll be staying here.”

His blood was boiling at this point. The plan at hand was hardly what he’d had in mind. Zoro shook his head firmly and grasped his composure tightly. “I need to do something.”

“And you will! You’ll be guarding our princess.” Rosalie dared to set a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, making him go all stiff till he caught her steely gaze. “Carabose controls many of the spirits of the island. I wouldn’t put it past her to send one of them to whisk the princess away. You perhaps have the most important job of all.”

Yeah, right. Zoro locked eyes with Nami over the faerie’s shoulder, sharing a silent agreement as he shrugged the woman off. “Nami can stay behind—”

“No.” Rosalie’s grip tightened around his shoulder as the temperature dropped instantly. “You will stay, and Nami will come along.” Her smile felt sinister. “I am Rosalie of the Wise Women, and you are just a man with a sword. I have conquered kingdoms in the name of her parents. What have you done?” 

“I’ll kill the witch,” he said weakly. “And I’ll save her.”

“Kill the witch,” she mocked him. “You mean to tell me that’s an act of true love, swordsman?” Rosalie leaned in close, her voice as soft as wind. “How can you say you love her when you let her go, Roronoa Zoro. Now stay put and don’t make the same mistakes twice.”

She swept away as swiftly as she’d closed in, leaving Zoro breathless and unsteady. Rosalie clapped her hands together and faced Luffy with a grin. “Now, Captain. You understand the plan?”

Luffy looked all around, making eye contact with each of his crewmates, till he found Zoro, who leaned against the wall having some sort of crisis. Words rose up to his tongue, ready to lash out and tear the faerie to bits when he saw it. The tendrils were growing brighter. Slowly, he turned to Rosalie, who met his gaze unblinkingly. “Yeah, I got it.”

Usopp shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, Luffy, I don’t think—”

“I trust her,” he declared, and that was that. Usopp nodded, followed by the reluctant rest. Zoro’s eyes flashed up to meet his captains, unsure about how confident Luffy was, but not willing to ever doubt his friend. 

“Splendid,” Rosalie simpered. “I’ve no doubt Carabose is waiting for us, so we’d do best to keep up our guards.”

As she rounded everyone up and led them out of the galley and off the ship, Nami brought Zoro aside, her brows furrowed. “I don’t like this,” she murmured. “But I trust Luffy.” Zoro grunted as if to agree, his eyes unfocused. Nami gave his shoulder a pat as she passed him. “Just stay with her. Who knows, maybe she’ll know you’re there.”

And Zoro found himself all alone, the ship a deathly quiet he had never witnessed before. He could hear his every breath and feel the rock of the ship. A creak came from somewhere nearby, pinching at a sensitive part of his mind. Zoro took a few weightless, shallow steps down the hall, his hand running against the wall, until he came face to face with the door of your bedroom. 

Too long he stared at the door before he shoved at it, swinging it open wide. Zoro surged inside with so much gusto his muscle memory urged him to reach for his swords, but he’d left them in the galley. Instead, his hand grasped at air whilst he vacantly stared about the room. 

You lay soundlessly atop your bed, hands crossed over your chest like a corpse. Zoro instantly moved to adjust your arms, laying them instead at your sides. There, that was better.

His brows screwed together; where a smile had earlier been gracing your lips, a firm frown now replaced it. Your face contorted, your mind plagued by an enemy Zoro couldn’t fight. Ensuring he didn’t make a sound, Zoro took a knee and drew close to your face, folding his arms on the edge of your bed and resting his head there.

Sweat beaded along your forehead, distress clear on your face. Without thinking Zoro reached to wipe it away with the back of his hand, initiating a kind of intimate contact only you had ever thrust upon him. He shocked himself, frozen with his hand on your cheek before he cleared his throat and returned to his original position.

Hours he stayed like that, eyes dutifully watching over your face, pulse spiking at every sign of distress caught in your features. Your brows pinched together, lips parting as a strangled sigh left you.

Perhaps… Zoro threw caution to the wind and reached for your hand. You didn’t budge, but—and maybe he was seeing things—it looked like your face softened up a little bit. So he stayed just like that, rubbing circles into the back of your hand.

He lifted his gaze to the window, where the sun was beginning to set once again. “Wonder if the others found that witch yet…” They could be fighting for their lives, if Rosalie’s dumb plan fell through. He should be out there. Zoro’s eyes flickered all around the blue sky, worry eating at him, till he finally rose to his feet and dropped your hand. 

“I’ll be back—” Your instant whine had Zoro practically jumping out of his skin and descending back to your side all at once. “I mean, they can probably handle it. I’m still here.”

Your face returned to a state of calm as if you’d never moved at all. He scoffed out a laugh, murmuring fondly, “You little shit.” Again, little shifts in your expression hinted at a nightmare. “What’s goin’ on in there, huh?”

(Your dreams had taken a drastic turn. Dragon fire shot past your head, close enough to singe your eyelashes. The broom you’d taken up as a weapon splintered against the scaly back of your guard. The serpent burned away at the roof of your room, circling like a vulture, taunting echoes slipping off her forked tongue. As your eyes continued to flutter, sleep beckoning like a long-lost friend, you didn’t dare to succumb to the call. Should you sleep, you felt certain you would never, ever wake up. 

Yet, you were so tired. It couldn’t hurt… if you rested your eyes… if only to escape the taunting of his voice. He’s glad you’re good as dead. He never had to deal with your pining ever again. 

Every echo of doubt had you believing that just maybe, it might be true, sending you deeper into this eternal insanity).

“Zoro.”

The swordsman didn’t breathe. He couldn’t. “I’m here.” If his words had any effect on the state of you, it didn’t show. You only rustled sharply, eyes flickering all around behind your eyelids… until you fell deadly still. “Hey now. Don’t slip away just yet.”

Again, he took up your hand, willing you to keep giving him signs that you weren’t too deep into slumber. “An act of true love. Sanji could probably pull one of those out of his ass.” That thought sent him on a tangent, pictures of your effervescent smile flashing across his mind. 

Days ago, he’d been so secure on never revealing his feelings to you. The pair of you would have lived all your lives revolving around one another until you inevitably gave up, and it would be for the best. Right then and there, though, Zoro felt certain if he never looked into your eyes again he would never forgive himself for every time he turned you away. 

“I’ve always wondered,” he whispered. “Why you don’t just go after the lovecook. It’d be a hell of a lot easier than dealing with me.” 

Zoro made himself comfortable, leaning his head on the bed. “If… when you wake up, let’s go do something, like you wanted. You like painting, right? We’ll go painting. I’ll probably offend the very act of art, but maybe you’ll laugh at me, and it’ll be okay. I’ll throw paint in your hair and you’ll punch me, and it’ll be a real good time.”

Nothing. Your chest rose and fell at a concerningly slow pace. “When we get you back… I’ll apologize. For being an idiot.” Had your lips always been so dry? “But you have to wake up to hear it.”

Your condition remained unchanged… save for the stark silence coming from your nose, and the eerie stillness of your chest. Zoro’s gut churned. You were only meant to sleep, so why weren’t you breathing?

(The sleeping beauty dared to lie down, the tower burning all around her, at ease among the encroaching flames).

His hand felt at you heart, his own stuttering at how faint yours was beating. You looked so blank. Not a flaw in your void expression. Zoro, on the verge of pleading to gods he didn’t believe in, again reached for a sword that wasn’t there as a bone-chilling chuckle echoed from every corner. 

“You can’t save her~” sang a ghostly voice, right into his ear. 

Zoro slammed his ear down on his shoulder to rid himself of the shiver running down his spine. Whipping around, he ground his jaw enough to hear the chip in his teeth. “Watch me, witch.”

Her laughter mocked him. “How? You’re no prince. No knight. What’re you going to do, warrior? Kiss her and hope your honor is enough?” Carabose appeared in a misty shadow behind him, surging through his body like a specter, sending him keeling to the floor. “The princess’ soul has long belonged to me. True love doesn’t exist. Rosalie should’ve known that.”

“You’re wrong!” Zoro bellowed, something deep in his heart constricting, building up a fire in his bones. 

“Oh,” the witch hummed darkly. “I’m sure. This isn’t a fairytale, boy. Kisses don’t wake princesses… and simple swordsmen don’t save them.”

The witch’s cackle faded even as he slashed at the air with his arm, wild eyes searching till they landed back on you, unnervingly calm. If Carabose’s intention was to have her spirits discourage Zoro, she fairly succeeded; but she also succeeded in something else—giving him something to prove.  

His shoulders sunk as he just stared, taking in the hopeless sight before him. It was much too late to confess to his sleeping beauty. Even if they did find a way to wake her, who was to say she would still want him? What if some hero swoops in and takes her away?

He would be deserving of that fate, Zoro thinks, his foolishness crashing down on him even as he falls to his knees at your side once more. 

Make a note that Roronoa Zoro doesn’t believe in magic. It’s all make-believe to help children see the good in the world. He knew that full and well, deep in his heart. But something he knew with far greater certainty is that he would do anything to have the chance to love you as you loved him. 

Magic wasn’t real. But what if? Zoro felt silly for daring to think it, but even then his hand reached to cup your cheek. Wasn’t there truth to every story? Kissing princesses didn’t make the world all right. Fairytales don’t come true. 

But the sun was setting on another day with you held down by this curse, and Zoro felt pathetic and weak and he had no other plan at hand. 

“I’m an idiot,” he confessed the obvious. “I never choose what’s easy except when it comes to you. Which made it difficult, which defeated the purpose and—Never mind.” Peaceful despite the circumstances, you never stirred an inch. “Please wake up. Please… Or I’ll look really, really stupid.”

One hand on your cheek, the other bracing himself against the bed, Zoro pressed the most delicate of kisses atop your cold lips, a horrifying shiver shooting through him at how it felt like kissing a corpse. Lingering, he drew back, breath staggered at how nothing happened. You didn’t shoot awake. Not a muscle in your body twitched. Your eyes didn’t move.

“Please,” he mumbled over your lips, his forehead colliding with yours in a desperate plea. “Wake up. Wake up so I can tell you I love you.”

Unseen magic exploded around the room, wrapping around the swordsman and the princess as pride and honor were laid down at the feet of a curse that died with the far-off scream of a thwarted witch.

(The sleeping princess blinked awake, squinting from the blinding light filtering in through the open ceiling. The dragon faded to mist and the fires blew out with a hush. Words the princess had only ever dreamed of hearing echoed down to her ears, and everything went white).

You awoke from the most horrible sleep, your bones and body aching as something like a cold fever washed over you. A shallow breath fizzled out of you right before your lungs brought in as much air as they could take. Eyes flinging open, your surroundings came into focus in an instant, and you found a figure looming over you with the funniest expression.

Zoro’s face was white as a sheet, eyes wide and brows vaulted, his lips parted. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and a laugh left you before you could stop it. You smiled with no abandon as Zoro’s hand traced your jaw. “What’s this about?”

And it all came rushing back like a punch to your gut as Zoro’s eyes bore into you. Your lips fell into a shocked gape. “You kissed me?”

“I… uhm…” 

You slowly sat upright, hands in your lap, head tilted as you admired the man before you in a light like never before. “You love me?”

His eyes pinched shut, and you feared he regretted his confession. Perhaps it was a heat-of-the-moment thing. Maybe he didn’t mean it and you’re stupid for ever thinking he might—

“I do.” He looked as breathless as you felt. “I do love you.”

An eternity could have passed and you wouldn’t have known nor cared, all too caught up in etching his face into your memory. Hesitant, you rose to your knees, bed covers shoved aside, and your hands went to cup his face tenderly. “Tell me again.”

Warmth flooded his cheeks as your thumbs ran over his cheekbones, drawing his eyes back to yours every time they dared to flicker away. He melted into you, one hand falling to your waist and the other cupping behind your thigh. “I love you.”

Another smile burst across your face. “I love you too.” You leaned in close, nudging your nose at his cheek. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

Zoro cracked a grin, his eyes fluttering. “Okay.”

“And kiss you.” 

“Fine by me.”

“I’ll never sleep again. I’m only going to kiss you until they pry me off you, my handsome, lovely, cursebreaker swordsman—Mmph!”

His lips cut you off, surging forth to catch you unguarded. Zoro’s arms pulled you in quickly as you pushed in just as firmly, hands raking through his hair. Years you waited and years you longed. Countless nights you laid awake intending to give up come morning, only to fall back into his eyes. 

All for this. The day your soul knew would come even when your heart was doubting. 

“I love you,” you broke away to say, simply because you could.

And no witch, no curse, no destiny would ever keep you from telling him. 

Giggling at nothing at all, you leaned into him and wrapped him up in your arms, head falling to his shoulder. Your eyes drifted behind him, your whole body freezing at the sight in the corner. “What the fuck is that doing here?”

Zoro nearly broke his neck whipping it around only to choke on a laugh. The spinning wheel sat humbly to the side, purple string still running through it. “Probably was a bad idea to keep it in here.”

“You think!” You lightly flicked his nose and got a little grunt out of him. “Let’s burn it.”

A bonfire awaited the crew as they returned, their egos bruised and spirits low despite their defeat of the Wise Woman Carabose. Every last one of them nearly screamed when they saw you stoking the pillar of fire with the brightest smile on your face, Zoro’s arm round your shoulder.

You teetered this way and that, tossed around as they hugged the life out of you. Laughter came easy and the night drew long, stories of their victory recounted and certain questions about your recovery proposed.

“You needed an act of true love,” Chopper wondered, never straying far from your side as he clung to your arm. “So what happened?”

You weren’t at all subtle in your direct look at Zoro, who coughed and averted his eyes to the suddenly very interesting ground. “Someone got off their high horse and—”

“All right!” Zoro laughed awkwardly. “Cook, where’d you put the extra sake?”

Nami silently awed as she dragged you and Robin aside, begging to know exactly what happened. Somewhere through the night, Usopp looked around, lowering his glass from his lips. “What happened to Rosalie?”

You tripped over nothing at that name. “What? My godmother?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “She helped us find Cara-bitch, or whatever… When did she disappear?”

Everyone took a moment to think, blinking quickly as a single answer was formed: they didn’t know.

“That sounds like her. I just wish I could’ve said hello,” you said. 

Zoro hovered at your side, his hand ghosting over yours. “She was weird anyway.”

“Hey!”

The fire fizzled out somewhere close to dawn, though the celebration seemed far from over. Your eyes felt heavy and your body too, but every time you fell too much into drowsiness, cold terror tore through you. You weren’t joking when you declared you’d never sleep again; the prospect petrified you.

“C’mon,” Zoro muttered when your head fell to his shoulder and shot back up for the sixth time. “You need to rest.”

“I’ve slept enough—”

“That’s not what I said.” Zoro stood and offered you a hand, a gentle smile warming you from the inside out. You shoved your hand into his and started the trek below deck, departure unnoticed.

As you passed your bedroom, you stopped and stared at your bed just three seconds before you bee-lined to Zoro’s door, leading him along behind you. Dazedly, you waltzed around each other, preparing for sleep even as your heart pounded in your head. 

“What if I don’t wake up?” you wondered aloud as Zoro sunk into bed.

His eyes found yours and you swore you fell even deeper. “You will.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I love you.”

That fact was one of the only real things either of you knew, and for now, it was enough. 

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s

[lisired]

the devil’s cup

pairing: demon!haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), demons/underworld, mentions of death and self-destruction, unprotected sex/breeding (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), edging, very slight degradation

summary: In a world where humans and demons are separated by earth and the unknown, you’re curious about the creatures that most mortal beings are too frightened to investigate. More specifically if they can please you sexually. As they say, curiosity killed the cat.

wc: 6.8k (this is the shortest fic I’ve done in a minute)

a/n: quick (and short) write! as always, feedback is appreciated!

There was a bit of division between the upper and underworld. 

That said, that never prevented the interaction of humans and infernal spirits. It only limited them, though even with said inhibitions in place, forbidding could only go so far within mortal control. 

Not everyone was god-fearing. Least of all demons. 

Though you weren’t exactly fearless, you were curious to a fault. Human knowledge of the underworld was limited. You lived in a world where plenty of supernatural beings - werewolves, faes, vampires and the like - coexisted in an integrated society, but demons lived in an unexplored world of their own.

Which, obviously, was the underworld. 

The church insisted it was for your own sake. You had practically never mentioned your intrigue to anyone, though that was chiefly because you were terrified to. The pastors were passionate in their sermons, deeming anyone who played with the devil a sinner beyond redemption and a betrayer of faith. You knew you’d be thrown scornful glances in an instant. 

You weren’t the only curious one. There were plenty groups of people who conjectured about the underworld and its occupants. Which was not an option for you for many reasons. First of all, they teetered on extremism. Second, you would undoubtedly be banished from society for so much as breathing near them. 

Your only option was your friend. Who happened to be supernatural himself. 

Ten laughed. “Let me get this straight. You want to fuck around with the devil?” 

You frowned. Though you definitely preferred the ridicule over the comtempt. He, however, wasn’t exactly in the place to mock you. “Come on, Ten. Didn’t you call on a succubus?” 

“Correction - you want to fuck the devil.” 

“Ten,” you whined. 

Ten shook his head. This was hilarious, because you were completely serious. It was also somewhat worrying. Most humans that had toyed with the devil for too long never survived. “Babe, I’m a vampire. Have been for sixty-two years. I’m technically in my eighties. You, sweetheart, are a human. Incubi can kill mortals like you.”

No wonder he tended to act like a cranky grandpa. You folded your arms stubbornly. 

The truth was that you were searching for a way to spice up your sex life and strangely enough, a demon sounded like exactly what you needed. You were desperate at this point. The men earth had provided for you were useless. You could count on both hands how many times you had given them a try and were ultimately unsatisfied. You were out of options. 

“One time won’t hurt, right?” you asked, batting your lashes. “Please, Ten. I just want to try. I can only die if I do it continuously.” 

Ten blew out a sigh. “Woman, you’re insane.” 

You whined, “Pretty please? I’ll literally buy you those Starbucks drinks you like everyday for a month. I need this.”

Ten mulled the offer over. On one hand, this was not only dangerous, but deadly. There was a chance that he could risk losing you in the process. But on the other, you were a responsible adult woman. It wasn’t like you would be selling your soul. You’d simply be testing the waters. “Fine. I’ll help you, but you better only do this shit once. I’ve had to bury a friend before. I don’t wanna go through that hell again.”

You lept up excitedly and cheered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you so much.”

“Whatever,” Ten said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be back later with the stuff. And I’m taking it back after tonight.” 

Frankly, you couldn’t care less. You knew your best friend was only trying to protect you, and you genuinely didn’t intend on disobeying. You were curious, not stupid. Nor did you have a death wish. 

Ten reappeared later that night with the materials necessary to summon a demon. Technically, you could have done it without them, but that would’ve been a much more ineffective, chance-based approach. It also most likely would have taken way longer. According to Ten, the board had a ninety-percent success rate. 

He had told you, “Unless you’re like, extremely unfuckable, it’ll work for sure.”

You snorted. 

That was how you met Haechan. 

Black smoke rose from the ground, wavering murkily with a ghastly noise until it dwindled fainter and fainter. You took a step or two back, holding your breath with curious fear as you waited for the mist to clear. 

Once it did, the handsomest man you had ever seen materialized before you.

You audibly gasped. Frankly, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. His dark hair was slicked back, forehead exposed to the breeze that temporarily coursed through your home, and he was tan-skinned. Like the heat of hell had graced his body. 

His pretty lips curled into the utmost smuggest grin. “Aren’t I lucky? I could feel that you would be gorgeous.” 

“You could feel it?” you repeated dumbly. In your defense, you were stunned. 

The average idea of a demon was a grotesque blood-hungry monster and needless to say, this nameless boy didn’t fit the bill. Part of you was half certain that Ten was pranking you, firm in his decision that it was foolish for a human to engage with a demon. He seemed like a regular, everyday being. Except maybe not. Most men weren’t this beautiful. And his presence was inexplicably strong.

Haechan scoffed, “Yeah? How else do you think I got here? I could feel your energy. It was calling me.” 

The room reeled. The air felt different, thicker. Your body lighter. There was an air of danger to this boy with a trace of something else that you were equally drawn to. 

Energy. Was it possible that you could feel his energy too? 

Given you were in a state of mental narcosis, more or less the effect of his aura, Haechan gleaned you wouldn’t respond and instead approached you. It felt like you were jolted awake when his warm skin pressed to yours, his lips and breath ticking your neck. 

“Haechan,” the demon whispered, but it felt like the thrumming of the wind. “That’s the name I want you to say tonight.”

Heat wafted over you. You nodded, because you couldn’t say another word. As if an invisible hand was clasped around your throat. 

Haechan coiled an arm around your waist, forcing your back flush against his chest. “Tell me what you want,” he purred. Your thighs were bare and he snagged the opportunity to grope them, free hand leisurely rising higher. For now, they landed squarely at your ass. “So I can help you.”

You swallowed hard. Part of you was afraid, but the other was enticed by the danger. It always had been. Your voice lacked complete confidence. “I… wanted something new. The men here aren’t adequate. I needed something else.” 

“Oh?” Haechan cocked a brow and snickered. “Don’t worry about that tonight, baby. I’ll make you forget about everyone except me.” 

For a while, you had been at war with yourself, dithering between your options. But Haechan had tempted you. Whatever fight you had abandoned you as he brought you to your bed. 

Every alarm in your body was ringing, sirening to you that danger was near at hand, but the soft lulling of his voice abated your panic. The horns were blown, but you were too far gone to hear them. 

Haechan lay you at your backside and you swayed like a leaf, throat parched dry when you glimpsed into his eyes. They were red with lust, dark as blood. “Don’t look so scared,” he reproached, but it was of little substance given the smidgen of a smirk you’d seen on his lips. 

You were still tongue tied and at a loss for breath, never mind words. 

Haechan’s touch wasn’t gentle in the slightest as he came to tear your clothes away, shredding them layer by layer. His fingers skimmed against your body and your skin scorched where he touched you. 

Admittedly, it was somewhat true that you were frightened, but this was exactly what you needed to fill the empty chasm of excitement in your sex life. Between thrill and fear, the feeling that coursed through your veins was indistinguishable. 

You had cycled through mortals and been left unimpressed each time. There was bad, and then there was decent. You wanted neither. You wanted someone to go above and beyond. They tended to do only enough to barely get you there. If even. You’d seen it all; you wanted mind-blowing.

You shivered at the cool sensation of the air against naked skin, but it was immediately negated by Haechan’s body heat. Still, it wasn’t enough. You whimpered, “Touch me.” 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Haechan snickered. “Say please.”

You didn’t hesitate. “Please. I need you to touch me.” 

Satisfied, Haechan snatched your panties with a final tear and skirted a hand between your thighs. They were already open and parted, welcoming him keenly. 

It was only when you felt his slender fingers scissoring between your thighs did you notice how wet you were. The thought alone had been arousing. The sight of him even more. It was the weaving of those individual factors that had you gathering in his palms like water. 

Haechan shook his head with mirth. “Something tells me that you don’t get wet like this too often. Do you, baby?”

The answer to that was so embarrassingly obvious that you wanted to shrink until nothing remained of you. Your cheeks stung. “No. Not really.” The more you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you had been so aroused. 

If ever. 

“Aren’t you a little sinner,” Haechan said and chuckled to himself. Needless to say, he was amused. A pretty girl like you that could most likely have any guy she wanted calling on a demon because the men on earth can’t satisfy her? He was delighted. And almost humiliated on their behalf.

Like the cruel demon he was, he added, “It’s a little pathetic, don’t you think? Getting wet for me when you could easily find a human to fuck.” 

You whined, but ironically pulsed around his fingers. Those words were as true as they were humiliating. His fingers coaxed into you with a loud, wet squelch. 

Haechan eyed you with the intensity of a ravening werewolf. The likes of you were familiar - pretty girls that were too curious for their own good and went looking into entities where they had no business for pleasure. Never would you be the first or last, though regardless he had a job that he was more than glad to fulfill. 

Pleasure played out on your face. That said, you wanted more. You had always considered that maybe you were the problem. Maybe you were the one at fault because you were too greedy, too insatiable. Enough was a word of little subtance to you. 

But you noticed a sort of stark divergence here. With your previous conquests, you were unsatisfied because they took pleasuring you as if it were drudgery. This was more or less a job for Haechan, yet in spite of that, he seemed enlivened. 

Boys came a dime a dozen. Pleasure like this? It was a luxury far beyond your worth. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered. You were even willing to beg, if that was what it took. 

“Mm, no. Not yet,” Haechan said, having a good chuckle at the look of incredulity on your face at your expense. 

Never had you ever been turned down. It was always you that turned people away. Men that were bound to be disappointments in the sack lined up for you. They never hesitated to take advantage of your desperation. 

Haechan curled his fingers, sending every wall of the room reeling. Your pupils dilated when he leaned in, firmly holding your jaw to make you meet his stare. “Human boys don't build you up, do they? They just take what they want and leave. I'm going to take my time with you, baby.”

You doubted anyone had ever uttered anything like that to you before. 

His grip slackened. Not many words needed to be exchanged, the two of you content with the sounds of your soft moans and wet cunt filling the air. 

The glimmer of mischief on Haechan’s face turned pensive. “Can’t decide how I want to fuck you. What about you, pretty thing - how do you want to be fucked?”

You felt your cheeks warm in response to his question, though you had a contemplative answer. Any additional eye contact would have landed you in an early grave, but you wanted him to take control. Too many times had you had to take the lead because you chased your own pleasure. You were in dire need of relaxation. 

And if you were being honest, you'd let him have you any which way. 

“From behind,” you replied, clinging to the pretense of indifference. 

The mischief returned at the speed of light and Haechan taunted, “Scared to look me in the eyes?” 

You blurted, “Can you read my mind?”

“Yes.”

Every functioning gear within you halted and your body slammed on the brakes. Made worse by the serious look on his face. 

Then, Haechan erupted with laughter. “Sike.” You were relieved, though not amused. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m not psychic.” 

As if to apologize for the massive scare he’d only just now given you, Haechan swept in and pressed a brief yet unnaturally hypnotic kiss to your lips.

You felt like you could die at any given moment, but strangely enough, you liked it. 

It was game over when he interposed another finger between your walls, tall and slender. You were plagued by so many emotions all at once that you hardly realized how close you'd gotten in no time at all. Time expedited, but the minutes ticked slower.

You grabbed Haechan’s wrist, fighting for control of his movements, though not that he needed much guidance. It was an act of bad habit, you supposed, but Haechan smirked and let you do as you pleased. For now. 

“Haechan,” you whimpered, reminded of the name you were instructed to say. 

The man in question eyed you with a lustful awe. It was the first time you’d said his name and brother, was it a delightful noise. He hummed, “Close?”

You bobbed your head. No words needed to be said. The way your entire body responded to his touch as if it was owned by him was enough of an indication. 

In a mere instant, you felt empty and desolate, warmth fading into crisp ice without warning. You whimpered, turning to look at the culprit, but met with only a smug smile. 

No way in hell had this demon just edged you. 

Haechan beat you to a word and explained, “I want you to cum on my dick. Is that alright, princess?”

“Please, hurry,” was your desperate response. You had no protest. You simply needed to feel him as soon as possible. 

Haechan had a nice laugh at the sight of you trying to find his hands anew and fuck yourself against them, but retrieved them, bringing his fingers that were coated in your slick to his mouth and sucking them clean. Ironically, you tasted like heaven. 

You moaned when Haechan kissed you, his saliva palliative to the ache of the wait and wanting. It took your mind off of the throbbing between your sensitive thighs while he shredded what remained of his clothes. You were so wrapped in his dark magic, a pawn in his devilish game, but you didn’t care. He could destroy you until you were no longer flesh and bones and you'd say, “Thank you.” 

Haechan was ready with burning lust and he growled, “Hands and knees.” 

You didn’t hesitate to scramble into position, as if he'd punish you for wasting a second of time. Every voice in your mind was subdued and you only listened to the thudding sound of your racing pulse. It screamed even louder the closer Haechan’s body came into yours. 

A gasp tore out of you the moment you noticed his cock stretching you open, ceasing the long wait. It was accompanied by another hushed growl, Haechan’s hands finding purchase at your hips. He filled you nice and slow, the pace so agonizing that you were tempted to believe he was testing you for the sake of toying with you. 

“Don’t tease. Please,” you begged. “I want you to fuck me - hard.” 

Haechan cocked a brow, but made no protest. “Whatever my pretty girl wants.” 

You fought for breath when every inch was encased between your warm and wet walls, pulsing around his thick cock. Haechan penetrated you with a hiss at how you swathed around him so tightly. 

Your body came alive at the touch of the undead, responding to his body with voracity. Haechan had no intention of restraining himself, ramming his hips into yours vigorously. He set a brutal pace, enough to sate you and your unnatural urges. For now. Your flesh scorched with fever, broiling under his fingertips yet craving more of him, more of the singe. You were indescribably elated. 

Haechan seized you to a bruising extent and braced his teeth into your shoulder, effectively smothering a noise. You let out a cry of pain and pleasure, warped together to create some inexplicable sensation.

“So goddamn tight,” Haechan hissed, giving your ass a smack or three. Every thwack sent you clamping even tighter. “You like it rough?”

Between a thread of moans, you whimpered, “Yes.” But the way he drove his cock into you - hurried and ruthless - bundled your head into the mattress, your cries smothered by the pillows.

Haechan latched onto your hair, letting out a hollow, breathy laugh when you moaned. You were so eager to take him, never shying away from his actions.  

It was paranormal, like nothing you had ever felt before. You'd yet to discern the invisible shroud of mist that billowed in the air, the spine-chilling gale that swept over you and chaperoned his presence, but you loved it. It kept you on your toes and made you hold your breath. Something to this extent felt forbidden, like you were getting a taste of pleasure beyond human capacity. It was an ethereal and otherworldly type of pleasure.

You felt so light that you could topple over from one breath. 

Haechan’s eyes lingered on the way your whole body tremored at the impact of his thrusts, your ass meeting his cock with a slap and your breasts bouncing underneath you. Your body was gradually beginning to be coated in bruises and scratches, remnants of him that would linger even after he was long gone. 

You loved that he was rough, loved that he fucked you like there was no tomorrow without overdoing it. He only had one night to give you the best dick of your life and was successful so near in. 

Many had tried, but many had failed to fuck you like this. You knew you would be sad to see him go. 

“Oh my god,” you cried, your voice given an outfall for speech courtesy of the way Haechan lifted your head by your hair. You were melting into abyss. 

Haechan tugged at it a little rougher and demanded, “Tell me you love this.” 

“I love it. I love it so much,” you babbled. Your thoughts were revoked. Your body was on fire. You knew one thing and it was the feeling that lit you off and riled you up. 

The demon boy smiled. He wasn’t psychic, but he knew how you felt without saying. It was in how your body responsed to his, submitting to his every move. Your body betrayed you, presenting all of your emotions on a silver platter. 

Haechan discerned you were near your climax and leaned closer, teeth grazing over your shoulder when he growled, “You’re close.”

It wasn’t a question; you were close. That much was obvious. You could only bob your head, blabbering more hardly coherent sentences that he found amusing. 

You fisted the pillows and sheets for dear life, clinging to whatever you possibly could to anchor yourself. You felt like you had been put together solely to be destroyed afresh. As if his intention was to shatter you piece by piece. 

In that case, he was doing a damn good job. 

If possible, Haechan’s pace became even more merciless. “Let go,” he coaxed surprisingly gently, strumming you to climax with his fingers at your clit. Your body one-hundred percent intended to obey him, unable to defy its urges. 

You screamed with orgasm, burying your face into the pillows to smother your cries of pleasure. Tears welled in your eyes, rivulets trickling down your cheeks. Your body felt whole and empty all at once, overcome by an overwhelming sense of relief. Even after you came, you were still pulsing around his cock, eager to get him there. 

“Cum,” you begged, still waiting for him. “Please?” 

The desperacy in your voice practically finished Haechan then and there, and he grunted, “Fuck.” There was no way he could tell a pretty thing like you, “No.” 

Haechan found a bruising grip on your ass to anchor himself and his cock twitched with release inside you, his mouth parting with a series of moans and growls. You whimpered when he filled you, painting your walls with warm cum. Only then did your spent body slacken, collapsing exhaustedly against the sheets. 

Haechan flipped you on your back and kissed the corner of your lips. There was something abnormally soporific about the way he tasted, because your eyelids began to weigh more than your body altogether. 

“That’s it, baby. Go to sleep,” Haechan whispered, lulling you to sleep with his gentle voice. 

There was nothing to fight. Your body lost all strength when you climaxed, and you succumbed to sleep in a matter of mere seconds.

“Atta girl,” was the last thing you heard before pitch black darkness bled into your vision. 

When you roused from your sheets in the morning, Haechan was - as expected - no longer there, but traces of last night remained. Your bed was a mess, but you were in shambles, hair tangled on your bed and your body stained with tears, scratches and bruises.

Humorously, though somewhat questionably, only none of his semen was there. You wondered if demons could get humans pregnant. 

You were elated, but somewhat disappointed. From the beginning, you were aware that you couldn’t see him again, but after last night, you were desperate. There was no way in hell he could show you a good time to simply never see you again. It was unfair. 

The sound of your front door being pounded mercilessly startled you and you jumped out of bed, scrambling to cover your bare body and then rushed to the door.

When you opened the front door, Ten awaited you on the other side.

“You look like hell,” commented Ten offhandedly. You were always in wonder at how vampires could roam in the daylight, but allegedly, it was courtesy of potions and spell work. 

“I had a long night,” you deadpanned. 

Ten chortled and stepped inside. “I’m sure.”

You shut the door behind the pair of you and led him to your bedroom where your sheets were a disheveled mess on your bed. Last night had left the board on the floor to be forgotten. 

Disinterestedly, you plopped on your bed. There was a question billowing like fog in your brain and you feigned your most indifferent tone when you asked, “Will he want to come back?”

Ten thought nothing of your question and shrugged, leaning over to pick up the materials you'd abandoned. “Depends. Demons know these… arrangements get messy. Some care, some like messy. It's not rare. Just in case, I’ll have a witch friend of mine fix a spell to ward evil spirits off.”

“Oh,” you replied, playing innocent. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You dwelled over last night and the thought of Haechan coming back for seconds. You weren’t special, that you knew. Demons of his kind has a nonselect variety to choose from, but you knew only he could pleasure you like that again. 

Like he was catching on, Ten added, “It’s not a good idea to give him a chance to get attached. Some demons are bitter and possessive. The moment they want you to be theirs, they’ll hurt you and anyone else who gets in their way in response to a perceived betrayal.”

His warning spooked you, but not by much. You assured Ten that you understood and would leave that night behind you. After all, with all the measures taken, it was out of your hands. 

One night became several. 

In your defense, you weren’t the one that summoned him. It was because of your energy. He always claimed he could feel you. You frequently laid brooding in your home, yearning for him to return. 

And then, he appeared. You knew when Haechan was there and when he wasn't. It was his presence. You could feel it in your chest. You couldn’t explain it, but whenever he was in range, a gust of cool air would sweep over your shoulders and a thick gale would strike your lungs, rendering you breathless. 

Haechan materialized in that same shroud of mist, snickering to himself when your startled figure trembled. 

You gawked when you saw him in full glory. “How the hell…” 

“Your friend isn’t the only one who knows a sorcerer,” Haechan grinned smugly. “I felt your yearning - did you miss me?” 

Oh, did you. You had spent the past couple of weeks trying to get yourself off the way that he had, but to no avail. There was only one remedy for you and you were forbidden to have him. 

“A little,” you admitted. Though you had a feeling he could see right through you, it was a lot easier to say compared to admitting you thought of how his hands felt on your body every time you touched yourself. 

“I think you missed me a lot,” Haechan teased, stepping closer. Meanwhile, you were riveted in place, unable to move. You gasped when his hands browsed up your dress, targeting your damp panties. “Are you saying this isn’t for me?” 

You tensed and whined, “Haechan.”

Haechan gave you a smile, the same devilish one he always wore. He slipped your panties to the side and brushed his slender fingers against your dampening cunt. “Tell me you missed me.” 

“I missed you. I missed you a lot,” you confessed without hesitation. “I… I’ve been thinking about you all day.” 

He cocked a brow and crammed a pair of fingers inside you. “Yeah? You been thinking about me fucking that tight little pussy?”

Your knees were bucking. You needed him more than you’d ever needed anything before in your life. “Please,” you cried. “Please, please…” 

The demon silenced you with a kiss that made you feel so light, you almost tipped over. He caught you in his arms and carried you to your bedroom. 

When you were finished, Haechan fell heaving at your side and groaned, “You’re always so goddamn tight.”

You giggled. “You love me.” 

Like you had said some forbidden word, Haechan switched on a dime and gave you a fair warning. “That’s the snag, baby girl. I can’t love you.”

That you knew, but it stung to hear aloud. You were by no means in love with the demon you'd only fucked on two occasions, but hell, he seemed like the best option. There was a bit of venom in your tone when you responded, “But you fuck me.”

“Yes. Because that’s what I do. I have sex with you needy little humans and drain you to death of your energy. Then the next one comes along and the cycle repeats. I can’t love you because you’re going to die some day, babe. Even sooner the longer you mess around with me.” 

You blinked. He was a hell of a lot more forthright than you expected. Haechan was going to fuck you within an inch of your life. Literally. 

That was how the cycle began. Haechan informed you of a simpler way to summon him and he began to visit you more often, stealing your nights away. You never mentioned him to anyone. If Haechan didn’t kill you in time, Ten would undoubtedly burn you alive. 

You loved spending nights with Haechan, and over time, those moments together bled into days and mornings. More often than not, you would talk the day away, discussing everything under the sun and moon. 

Six years ago. Those events culminated in this later two-part dilemma you’d brought upon yourself. 

Weeks turned into months. You were growing weaker. The venom was slowly killing you, contaminating your blood far beyond human reclaim. 

Additionally, everything the two of you had said about loving each other had gone terribly south. The more you got to know Haechan, the deeper you fell. And watching you fall drastically ill under his influence tore an unfamiliar feeling from his cold heart - fear. Losing you cooled his already icy blood. 

Haechan heaved a breath, trying to remain calm. The two of you knew that this would happened, but goddamn, he would have never predicted that he of all people would fall in love. It was almost laughable. “I can immortalize you, but there’s a catch.”

You eyed him expectantly. “Like what?” 

“You’ll watch the people you love die,” Haechan said morosely. “Your entire life will fade with your mortality.”

You frowned. That was a given, but you loathed the thought of that day. No matter how far in the future it may have been. There were always immortal beings to befriend at your disposal, but the current mortal ones - your family - would pass on without you. 

But even more, you loathed the thought of them having to bury you. You would take the pain in sacrifice if it meant they never had to feel the empty ache of lost. 

“Okay.” 

Haechan shot you a look. “Okay, as in what?” 

With shaky hands, you blew out a breath and told him, “I’ll do it.” 

Haechan interlaced your fingers between his and pulled you close. The last thing he wanted was to lose you, but he also wanted you to do this completely out of your own free will. “Are you sure? This isn’t some reversible shit. No take backs.” 

“I would rather bury my family than have them bury me,” you whispered fiercely. It was all you had the strength to do. “I made this mess, now I have to fix it. I can’t let them be miserable over a stupid mistake I made. I won’t.” 

Instead of recoiling from your slight outburst, Haechan held you even firmer. It was a sensitive spot for the both of you. There were available alternatives, none long-term. This was by far your safest option. 

Death was not an option. 

“If this is what you want,” Haechan said, like he was giving you one final chance to reconsider your choices. But you were firm in your decision. This was the price that you had to pay. “Everything will be okay. Baby, I swear.” 

God, you wanted to believe him with everything you had, but you were terrified. For as long as you'd known him, Haechan had always been more calm and self-controlled than you ever were, but even now you could see cracks in his demeanor. He wanted to be strong for the both of you, knowing you would shatter the moment he did, but this had him rending at threat of rupture. 

Haechan lowered himself to your height to be eye-level with you and asked, “Can you get dressed?” 

You bobbed your head. You weren’t completely deprived of your vigor. Not yet, although you had been passing through the days on preservation potions and the like. They could sustain you temporarily, but not for very long. 

The demon boy you loved brought you to a secluded area in the woods, timing your errand perfectly. Before dusk was preferable. Evil creatures lurked in the wilderness, preying on vulnerable humans like you. Not all were fond of humans and vice versa.

And you were already ailing. 

There was a tiny cabin across a river, lying at its bank. According to Haechan, it was home of a wizard. 

“Your friend’s a wizard?” you had asked. 

Haechan nodded. “Basically. But Mark prefers being called a warlock. Apparently, wizard is an offensive term that’s only used in fairytales. I still call him Wiz, though.”

You gave him a tiny nod. Many if not most magical beings lived in areas isolated from humanity. There was long, unaccounted for history between the two races and you couldn’t blame them for any resentment. 

But it also presented the fair chance that he wouldn’t want to help you. 

Haechan opened the door to the cabin and you treaded behind him like he was safeguarding you. There was a man behind a cauldron that billowed with green smoke. 

You took a glance around. The cabin was dim, sunlight filtering through the blinds of a single window upstairs. Candles and lanterns burned, scattered elsewhere. The warlock spared you not a glance, engrossed in his brewing, though you noticed a crystal ball on the table, reflecting a perfect view that overlooked the bridge. 

It most likely had warned him someone was approaching. 

Haechan put on his cheesiest smile and greeted, “Sup, Wiz. Been working out lately?” 

Mark slammed on the brakes and bristled. “Hell no. Whatever you want - the answer is no.”

Your demon boyfriend frowned, walking beside his friend to give a slight nudge to his side. “C’mon, bestie. I didn’t even ask for anything.”

Mark didn’t waste a second. “I know. And every time you compliment me, it’s only because you want something.” Then, the warlock shifted his gaze and seemed to finally notice you. “Who’s the chick - new piece?” 

Haechan rubbed his neck. “Yeah, about that…”

“Haechan, hell the fuck no,” Mark interjected as soon as he put the pieces together. “You know you have to talk to Johnny about that.” 

“See, that’s the thing. Johnny will kill me. And I’m technically already dead,” Haechan joked, trying to ease the mood. 

You swallowed like you could gorge all of your burdens with one gulp. Part of you was ready to accept that death was inevitable and tinkering with your fate was deadly. As a spirit from the underworld, maybe you could meet the boy you loved again, but you’d fade into a distant memory to everyone else you loved. 

Mark removed his spectacles and massaged his temple before he sighed. “Do you love her?” 

“Yes.” It was instant. He didn’t even need to consider it. That made you smile. 

“Like, for real?” Mark pressed. Like he was in disbelief. “I can’t waste time and casting energy on a pretty girl you just want to keep around for a little longer.”

Patience slowly dimming, Haechan snapped, “When have I ever cared if they lived or died, Mark?” 

You came to clutch his arm, and Haechan softened, switching on a dime. Much to Mark’s surprise. Even he couldn’t deny that you seemed to have an effect on Haechan - a grip that no else had. 

Haechan took a deep breath. “Look, my bad. But she’s special. I don’t know how it happened, it just did. And it would be easier to do a cord-cutting spell and toss her away, but I don’t want that. I want her.” 

A strained moment of silence passed before Mark finally groaned, “Fine.”

“So?”

“So, I’ll do the spell,” Mark said stubbornly. 

It felt like a weight was lifted from your chest and you could breathe easier when those words left his mouth. You watched Haechan’s face twist with relief, and he whirled you into his arms, hauling you with a supernatural strength that made you squeal and giggle. “Fuck. I forgot you’re not yourself,” he said and placed you back on the ground. 

You shook your head and smiled. Then, Haechan turned back to Mark with open arms and smirked. “Come here.”

Mark grimaced. “Absolutely not. I’m warning you. Come any closer and I’ll get Phantom.”

“Phantom?” you repeated, blinking. 

Mark whistled, and suddenly you heard a low caw fill the air. Then, you saw a creature fly from the single window at the speed of light and finally come to a rest at Mark’s shoulder. 

It was a raven. 

“My familiar,” Mark explained proudly. “Every warlock - and witchtress - has one.” 

Ignoring the way the raven - Phantom - was staring down your soul, you gave a quick nod and asked, “So, we’re really okay?”

“Yes. I’ll work on a spell for you as soon as possible,” Mark replied.

Haechan smiled and swept you into a kiss, then Phantom immediately began to caw as if she was trying to wake the dead. 

Haechan snickered and put his arms between you both. She was very prone to attacking. “Ladies, ladies. No need to fight. There’s enough Haechan to go around.” 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. But you were happy. You still had Haechan, and you always would. Nothing would come between you. Death or Phantom. 

Five years ago. 

Now, you were alive and well. And not only you, but someone else. 

After hours on your feet, you had never been more relieved to sit down. Ten eventually came to accompany you, having a good laugh at the weariness prominent on your face at your expense. 

“Tired?” he asked. 

“Try exhausted. I’m ready to drop,” you drawled. 

Ten laughed, then shook his head and smiled faintly. “Tell me how it’s been exactly four years and I still can’t believe I’m a godfather?” 

“Please,” you chortled. “They’re growing up so fast. I can’t keep up.” 

You had discovered the answer to a previous thought. Demons could get humans pregnant. As it turned out, you also had to confess to Ten that you’d been sleeping with Haechan for longer than he'd thought. After all, the evidence had been growing in your belly for nine months. 

Not one child, but two. 

Ten gave you a tiny nudge. “Haechan really did a number on you.” 

Through the corner of your eye, you could see him approaching and joked, “Speak of the devil.”

Haechan plopped down beside you, head in your lap, and said, “I’ve never had to work for anything in my life before those two.” 

You and Ten giggled. “Get off me, you big baby,” you said lightheartedly. “Who has them?” 

“Your mother,” Haechan replied, not budging like a boulder. 

Or so he thought. You were both caught off guard when your two four-year-old twins eagerly came running after you, refusing to give their mommy and daddy a break. 

Ten came to the rescue and leapt up, exclaiming, “Who wants cake?” 

As expected, your two tiny twins turned around as soon as they came, shouting, “Me!” Gratefully, you mouthed, “thank you” to Ten, who led the little army away to dessert. 

Haechan climbed into the seat beside you, and said, “We made this.”

“We did,” you replied, beaming. “And I love every part of it. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Me neither,” Haechan said, pressing a kiss to your lips. Now that the coast was clear, a mischievous smile crept onto his lips. “So, I was thinking that once we put the kids to bed, we could have our own little party upstairs.”

God, that sounded like heaven to you right now. “Say no more.”

Haechan snickered and lifted you into his lap. You rested your head against his lap comfortably. “I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too,” you said, a smile tugging your lips.

Those three words summed up everything. There was so much you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him that you always wanted a family with him, that you wouldn’t have it any other way. That you knew in your heart that this was the way it was meant to be. But you settled for, I love you. And you settled because he already knew. 

“As much as we fuck, we should have expected twins.” 

Those words snapped you out of your train of thoughts and you stood to your feet. “Save it. We have a birthday party to celebrate.”

Haechan followed you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Yes, ma’am. Mind if we go hit the dance floor in celebration?”

“Not at all,” you told him. 

And it was easily the most magical moment of your life being twirled around in Haechan’s arms, the rest of your little family soon coming to join you both.

[qingxin-dream]

“Righteousness”

summary | in another timeline, kunikuzushi never redeemed himself. he took interest in a different kind of heart—not the Gnosis, not a Vision—but yours. (art credits: @/Shiqaruki on twitter).

warnings | lore, kidnapping, kuni calls you ‘little songbird,’ profanity, brief mention of physical abuse, manipulation, praise & degradation, pining, obsessive/possessive, smut [18+, MDNI], dubcon, female-bodied reader (wears a dress & lingerie), dominant kuni, choking, yandere jealousy, murder/arson threats, worship, slapping, finger-fucking, mirror sex, kuni receives oral, deepthroating, edging/teasing, orgasm denial, mention of breeding

genre | yandere, smut with plot, canon-divergent

word count | 4.5k

pairing | kunikuzushi/scaramouche x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

In a time all but forgotten, a young boy sat on his knees, caressing a hand-sewn doll in his palms and looking up with childlike compassion to his companion.

“There once was a puppet solider whose greatest wish was to be with a ballerina doll forever and ever,” he began, his eyes reflecting the scene of his storytelling imagination.

He gently squeezed the doll in his hands, as if to comfort his companion before the truth spills from his lips. “But the solider didn’t have a heart and didn’t know where his feelings came from.”

“One day, his owner didn’t want him anymore and threw him away into a fire. But even in the flames, his eyes never left the ballerina,” he continued with a more somber tone, drawing attention to the gut-wrenching ending of a tragic romance.

However, his voice shifted, offering soft words of wisdom and hope to his distraught friend. “The next day, the people found a tiny heart in the ashes left by the fire.”

Instinctively, the beautiful puppet sitting before the young boy curled his lip in disdain. “Probably ashes in the shape of a heart… but that’s not a real heart.”

He could hear the affectionate smile pulling at the corners of the young boy’s mouth. “Maybe, but what if… hearts can be born from ashes?”

“What a joke. It’s just ashes,” the lonesome puppet can barely conjure up a breath in his agony. “Nothing left but ashes.”

As his chest twisted and clenched with the wretched filth of so-called human emotion, the divine puppet came to a profound realization. His body merely served as a hollow shell, cursed by the ghost of mortal weakness—a living testament to the depths of an Archon’s visceral mourning.

In his naïveté, he had trusted the boy he thought to be his friend. He had believed that silly little fairytale, that maybe he wasn’t as empty and worthless as he felt. There was no heart to be found in the cold vessel of a failed god.

Kunikuzushi would have to claim one for himself.

Sin.

The ultimate temptress of mortals. The manifestation of human greed and desire. That which demands repentance and atonement for fear of eternal damnation. It is hinged on the human condition that death is inevitable.

Mortals are easily persuaded by morals and ideology if it means life after death in a paradise that is not guaranteed. Humans create false narratives to exercise the sick satisfaction of controlling one other. When all is said and done, the real struggle is for power—namely the power to control fate itself.

For those who are destined to roam the world with no such motives, imprisoned in an earthly purgatory, sin and salvation are laughable notions.

There is no reason to live, for you cannot die; Sin knows no bounds and comes with no price.

“The sooner you accept this, the better,” Kunikuzushi laments, his face just inches from yours. The bewitching twinkle in his lavender irises has remained all these centuries, a cruel illusion masking the abyss beneath. “Nothing you say will change my decision.”

You were really quite the picture, if he was being honest, all tied up for him. Kunikuzushi loathed that just the sight of you was enough to make the void in his chest cavity ache with longing. A reminder of his imperfection.

Anyone else would have died a violent death for such a transgression. But you presented a unique opportunity.

“Kuni, please,” you whimpered, your pleas falling on deaf ears. On the contrary, he loves hearing your voice, especially when you beg so earnestly. “I-I don’t know what I did wrong… I’m scared. Please, let me go…”

The puppet hushes you lovingly, his lips brushing against your delicate skin toward your ear. “Hey, now. There’s no need for that. You’re safe with me, little songbird.”

You flinch, gasping and recoiling in fear, turning your head away defiantly. It’s not like you could push him away, your little limbs bound to a tall column in the kitchen nice and tight. Hot tears pricked at your eyes. It burns like hell.

“Untie me, Kuni!” you shrieked, squirming and struggling against the binds to no avail.

He snatches your face firmly between his thumb and two fingers, squishing your cheeks to the point you felt pressure on your skull. “Ungrateful slut. Didn’t I explain this to you already? Your heart beats for me from this day forward.”

Frozen in shock, your body stiffens involuntarily as fear floods your veins, rendering you utterly helpless. Even as he gazed upon you with an icy, detached stare, you couldn’t find it within yourself to fault Kuni for this act of desperation. He could never make sense of himself and the pain that came with betrayal after betrayal.

Why even try to embrace humanity if it would mercilessly punish you for not having a heart?

You still remember the day you found him, it was but a coincidence you both crossed paths. Kuni was a wandering traveler, or at least that’s how he introduced himself. He seemed kind enough. You were particularly taken by his appearance, so lovely it was almost inhuman.

It just so happened that you were willing to offer him a place to stay. It took a bit of convincing on your part, actually, but you were worried about the string of murders near your village recently. Someone must have had an insatiable vendetta against the blade-smithing arts, striking them down one by one.

A small knowing smile pulled at his lips, his eyes creasing slightly with amusement as he marveled at how you opened yourself up so easily. This was the first time he had talked to a human in who knows how long. Perhaps since the young boy’s passing many dreadful seasons ago.

Kuni found the void in his chest persuading him to entertain his curiosity about you.

He had to admit, once you both got to know each other, it was quite the impeccable arrangement. During the day, you provided the kind of mundane tranquility and domesticity he had always dreamed of. Thankfully, your residence was in a rural part of the countryside, which offered much appreciated security and seclusion from the world.

Once you were safely tucked into bed and sound asleep, he would lie restlessly in the guest room. Puppets have no need for sleep. On some lonely moonlit nights, he would entertain his own fantasies of you. In the absence of such desires, he was compelled to satisfy his blood thirst.

Though Kuni had long forsaken the human emotions that afflicted his existence with disappointment and abandonment, his burgeoning relationship with you had quickly proven to be the last remaining vestige of his innocent supplication for a purpose.

In fact, he demanded it, after witnessing you day in and day out slipping from his grasp. He was growing impatient, waiting for something more. You had always stopped short of taking a little leap of faith to hold his hand or kiss his forehead, leaving him yearning for your touch and attention. Why?

Even in your presence, he was not alleviated of his turmoil. A number of possibilities plagued him. Were you dissuaded by his artificial constitution? Did he make a fatal miscalculation? God forbid, was there someone else?

No matter how many times he twisted, folded, and bent reality in his mind, trying to make sense of you, he never came to an agreeable conclusion. By the time Kuni realized just how deep you had nestled yourself into the empty husk of his heart, it was too late for the both of you.

All of this mental anguish and pining was unbearable. Unacceptable. He loved you, yes, but needed you more.

The puppet’s chest fluttered as you willingly complied, tears staining your cheeks, but that’s okay. His soft pink lips brushed against your cheek once more, kissing away your precious tears. It was his first taste of you.

Kuni cradled you in his palms like a delicate doll, his thumbs ghosting your cheeks. He leaned in closer, indigo bangs tickling your face and his mouth parted with a breathless question. “Is your heart… truly mine?”

He had broken you, and you had no choice but to nod slowly.

“Say it for me, little songbird,” he encourages you with a warm intonation. His eyes were trained on your lips.

“I-I’m yours,” you replied weakly.

No sooner than you could speak were his plush lips pressed to yours, a breathy hum of relief exhaling through his nose. In turn, you muffled a whimper, overwhelmed by the sensation. He had untied you, knowing you couldn’t hurt him but he could certainly hurt you.

Kuni was gentle at first, relishing in his first kiss with you. He carefully took your wrists to guide your hands to his body, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you against him. Still, you trembled in his grasp.

“There’s no need to fear,” he whispers between kisses, holding your face to his. “I will take care of you.”

He can’t bear to leave your lips. Guiding you towards him, he leans against the kitchen counter and tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. A small prayer barely escapes his lips. “(Y/N), hold me… touch me… please.”

“Kuni,” you choke out, tears forming in the corner of your eyes again. You are silenced with increasingly fervent kisses, one of his hands trailing down to your neck just by his fingertips, giving you goosebumps in the wake of his featherlight touch.

“You are going to give yourself to me. Your heart is my heart, and I will not have you hiding any part of yourself from me,” his voice grows a bit more insistent, closing his fingers around your throat as a threat, but not yet squeezing. “Do you understand?”

You give a feeble nod, unable to look at him directly. Every time your gaze locked with his, it sent a pang of terror jolting through your fragile body. He brings you closer by your neck, kissing you with more confidence than before. There is a little part of you that is worried you are unable to discern fear from excitement.

The puppet lets his hand slip further, fingertips finding the contour of your chest. He hesitates briefly, then allows his palm to feel your plump breast. The act was enough to elicit a little whine from you, and he knew right then and there that he had to hear it again.

“Do you… have any inclination of how long I waited for you?” he whispers hotly onto your lips, feeling down your waist at an excruciatingly slow pace. He smoothed each wrinkle of your dress with his thumb, tracing the silhouette of your figure down until he felt the hem of your underwear through the thin fabric. His breath caught.

You were still not as receptive to his advances as he would like, and suddenly he scoops you up to hook your legs around his hips, pressing your back against the nearest wall in the hallway. Kuni was beginning to reveal his desperation for you in more ways than one, breathing a little heavier. He was determined to have you submit to him and if you weren’t responsive to his soft side, then so be it.

“Answer me,” Kuni lowers his voice with a commanding edge, his lips just inches from your neck while his messy indigo bangs tickled your jaw. You whimpered, involuntarily moving your hips against him at the mere thought of his mouth on you.

At long last, you found your voice—delicate and decadent with a tinge of spine-prickling anticipation. Perhaps you had lost part of yourself, your humanity, in him too. “H-how long, Kuni?”

You shivered slightly, feeling his mouth spread into a satisfied smile against the sensitive skin of your neck. His voice deepens further, sultry and needy, “Lifetimes… I’ve been so goddamn purposeless for too many fucking lifetimes, just waiting for you.”

Without warning, the touch-starved puppet sunk his teeth into the crevice of your shoulder at the base of your throat, sucking at the weak spot to bruise the skin with his mark. A surprised yelp fell from your mouth, and you so nicely turned your head to offer him more. He clutched your curves tightly, as if he was secretly wishing your bodies would just melt into each other.

Ba-dum… ba-dum… ba-dum…

Your precious heartbeat echoed through his chambers of his chest. Kuni craved that little pulse of yours, chasing it up your neck in heated, sloppy kisses. All the while, you encouraged him with sweet little sounds of pleasure, softly asking for more under your breath.

“It’s mine,” he reiterated, perhaps to help immortalize the sensation against his lips. With a faint growl and yet another love bite, he added, “You’re fucking mine, you hear me?”

If only he could be bothered to pull back and catch a glimpse of how the puppet had unraveled you beyond recognition, equally as intoxicated by the heat of the moment. No matter. He will have his fill of you in due time.

“Y-yours, mhmm,” you capture his wet lips halfway, experimentally swirling your tongue with his passionately. You were clinging onto his shoulders, entangling your fingers in the soft ends of his pretty hair resting on the back of his neck.

With a faint moan against your mouth, Kuni lifted you once more by slipping his hands under your dress to feel his digits press into the soft flesh of your ass. It was light work to carry you, giving him the opportunity to squeeze and smack your ass with a smirk.

Slipping into your bedroom, he set you down and turned you around by your hips so that you were facing the tall mirror just a few feet away from the mattress. He leans over your shoulder from behind and you blush heavily at the image reflected by the mirror. Both of his beautiful hands traveled up your body simultaneously, one feeling your stomach, ribs, breast, and resting around the bottom of your throat.

The other, however, caught the frilly ends of your dress, sliding it up your skin at a painstakingly slow rate. Kuni’s violet irises shimmered with obsessive desire, admiring every inch of your body that was exposed to him. He bunches the dress in his fist as he raises it above your hips, revealing the most angelic lacy undergarments accented with cute little ballerina pink ribbons. Kuni chuckled, his breath tickling your neck.

“Do me a favor, darling,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, kissing it lightly. He takes his time to unveil your breasts, each one perfectly shaped with lovely nipples begging to be pinched. “Open your mouth.”

You comply, watching yourself in the mirror with curious fascination, before Kuni stuffs the thin, light fabric of your dress into your mouth. He nibbles your ear playfully. “Hold that for me.”

His eyes marvel at your body. If you told him you were a goddess, he would believe you without hesitation. Divine or not, the puppet was hell-bent on worshipping you like he had been dreaming of. Kuni played with the intricate lace of your snow white lingerie, his thumb brushing your pelvis teasingly.

Instead, he takes two fingers and caresses your folds outside of the undergarment, pleased to feel your panties dampened with excitement. You quiver at the touch, moaning faintly. Kuni is enthralled by the sweet noise, taking the tiny lingerie by his thumbs and sweeping it down your pretty legs.

He immediately sits down on the edge of the bed, quickly pulling you into his lap and spreading your legs apart with his knees. There it was in the mirror. Your glistening flower framed with the loveliest soft petals.

Kuni couldn’t possibly restrain himself when you were presented so exquisitely, wasting no time to slide his fingers over your pussy. You groaned in pleasure, muffled by the dress in your mouth, relaxing against his chest as the puppet focused on rubbing circles around your clit. He kissed your neck and shoulders endlessly, admiring your reactions in the mirror and whispering lowly, “So good for me. So, so good for me, aren’t you, (Y/N)?”

Your thighs trembled. You desperately wanted to close your legs as his movements became faster on your clit, the stimulation swiftly overcoming you. Breathy moans soon evolved into incoherent pleas. Kuni held you steadfast with his legs, keeping you spread all nice, admiring how you twitched beneath him.

“What did I tell you?” his tone is one of warning, groping your right breast and littering your skin with a few more marks. “There are consequences to hiding yourself from me.”

The puppet suddenly swipes his middle finger over your leaking hole—causing you to moan lewdly—before slapping your pussy. It was a light but firm slap, sending an addicting concoction of both pain and pleasure through you.

After a brief moment, he returns to your folds to trace and admire it, then continuing his ministrations on your clit. Occasionally Kuni would let a finger slip to tease your entrance, finding that it drove you crazy.

“P-please, please, Kuni,” your words quivered like your body, bending easily to the pleasure he was so kindly bestowing you. It had to have been the hundredth small cry for relief tumbling from your throat, you were on the precipice of your climax. “I-I need it. Something, anything… fuck me.”

“You better not cum on my fingers,” the puppet orders, gathering your slick and gently inserting two fingers into your warm walls. You whined in frustrated pleasure as he stretched you slightly, pumping his digits in and out of you barely an inch but keeping you stuffed.

“I c-can’t, I’m…” you babble. Kuni knew you were on the brink already, but he wanted to at least try to prepare you for his cock. He suddenly pulls his fingers out, and with it escapes your climax. Tears were almost pricking your eyes. You could definitely feel them beneath the surface.

He slaps your pussy again as punishment for not listening to his commands. “Greedy sluts are not rewarded.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you mumble and he grunts, pushing you off of him and to your knees in front of the bed. Kuni makes quick work of his clothes, tossing his shirt aside and pulling his pants down enough to spring his throbbing cock free. You had certainly felt his hard length while you were in his lap, but seeing it rendered you speechless.

No different from the rest of the puppet’s beautiful body, Kuni’s cock was perfect. A few veins wrapped around his hard member, bulging under the flesh. Towards the tip, it was gradually flushed pink with hot need, a pearl of precum on his slit. You took him in your hand, butterflies swarming your stomach with the realization that he had more girth than you expected.

Kuni grabbed a fistful of your hair and shoved your face toward his cock with a simple demand. “Suck.”

You experimentally drag your tongue underneath his cock, licking your lips, and working your mouth on his tip to lubricate him first. Kuni’s eyes roll in the back of his head, resting one hand behind him on the bed as he moans deeply. “Fuck, (Y/N)…”

The sensation of you smiling with his cock in your mouth sent warmth through him. You eagerly fit more of him in your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue just the way he likes it when you received praise. Yet, Kuni needed more.

“You can do better than that,” he scoffed.

His grip on your hair tightened, pushing your throat completely down on his cock just to feel it once. The puppet twitched in your throat, letting out a seductive growl of pleasure. You gagged slightly, before pulling back with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. You coughed a little, but he cupped your chin and wiped it from your mouth sweetly.

“That’s my girl,” Kuni coos, guiding you up on the bed next to him and pushing you down onto your back. As much as he’d love to see you taking him in your mouth all evening, he had a prize more tantalizing waiting for him. Clothes on the floor, moonlight pouring over you both, the puppet vowed to never forget how you mewled as he dragged the pulsing tip of his cock along your wet folds.

Gasping, you achingly bucked your hips in tandem, utterly drunk on the delicious sensation of his thick length parting your pussy lips. You loved to be teased, that much was for sure and Kuni ate it up—the desperate crinkle of your brow in pleasure and how your breath became short.

He presses his tip at your warm hole, but never pushes it in.

You groan dramatically, sweat already forming on your forehead and you haven’t even began. Every bit of pressure he applies has you smitten, imagining the moment he finally fills you. “K-Kuni…”

The smug puppet smirks down at you knowingly, grinding his cock against you repeatedly, rubbing your clit just right. “Yes, my little songbird? Have something to say?”

Before you can speak, he kisses you to muffle your answer. You grow even more impatient, using your legs to keep his hips locked close to yours. Kuni peppers your jawline and neck with kisses and little playful licks of his tongue. “I’m listening.”

“Please,” you beg.

Kuni’s tone is unreadable. “Please what? Use your words.”

You give him a flustered look of desperation and he pins your hands on either side of your head, interlacing your fingers with his. You reply, biting your lower lip, “Fuck m-me, Kuni.”

A smile graces his face and his eyes soften, thumbs caressing your hand comfortingly to brace you for his length. “Is this… your first time, (Y/N)?”

Though you were a shy and kindhearted person, he should’ve known from the way you deepthroated his cock earlier that it wasn’t your first. He wasn’t your first. That means someone else was. Someone else defiled you.

Kuni’s electric purple eyes darkened like an impending storm as you shook your head.

“Indulge me,” the puppet asks. “What other men have been in my position?”

You are not in the right state of mind, still insatiably yearning for your climax and grinding your wet folds on his length. However, Kuni doesn’t accept your nonsensical mumblings and half-answers. His hands tighten around yours, pushing his cock into you with a guttural moan inch by inch until he bottoms out completely.

“Oh my fucking god,” you sputter out, sighing in sweet relief and a bit of pain. Your pussy is filled to the brim with his cock, stretching you out good. You try to turn your head away and close your eyes, but Kuni refuses to let you.

“That’s right,” Kuni’s voice is nothing short of alluring in the most raw way possible. “Treat me like your god and fucking look at me while you take my cock.”

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t also utterly euphoric as he sinks his large member into your tight walls. Gritting his teeth, he’s taken aback by how you squeeze him unknowingly, even your subconscious is unable to deny the pleasure he’s giving you. It took you a few seconds to adjust to his girth, your eyes drifting down his muscular chest and toned abdomen in admiration.

With the first drag of his cock out of you to his tip, hushed hum of pleasures are murmured by each of you, until he buries himself all the way back into you. Kuni continues in this rhythm with a few thrusts, unable to his stifle his own moans. He was no better, his climax already building within.

Pulling back, the puppet releases your hands to push your legs against your chest by your thighs to get just the right angle and perfect view of your folds. He hovers above you, fucking just his hot bulbous tip into your needy hole. In mere seconds, you cursed to yourself at how good it felt when he brushed against your sensitive entrance.

Your clit pulsated for attention. How could he not press his palm onto your pelvis and drag his thumb across the slightly swollen bud? His half-thrusts became shakier as you unexpectedly tightened around his cock—moans freely and loudly erupting from your throat. The feeling was beyond exhilarating and convinced him to push you to your limits.

“You think I’m going to let any other man put his hands on you like this?” Kuni sneers with jealous envy reflecting in his irises. “I’ll fucking snap his neck. I’d kill him.”

Impulsively, the obsessed puppet roughly plunges his entire cock into your soft pussy. He relishes in your loud moan of shock at the pleasure and slight discomfort in splitting you wide open. His cock pushes against that wonderful spot deep inside you, incredibly sensitive after all his torturous teasing. You were seeing more than stars.

“I bet they couldn’t fuck you like I can,” he scoffs, possessively pulling your closer by your legs and holding your ankles on his shoulders as he fucks you mercilessly. “Make you scream like I can. And—nghh—breed you.”

You were finer than a work of art, truly, in all your fucked-out glory as you chase your high on his thick cock. His thumb flitting over your clit messily, primal groans of bliss echoing throughout the bedroom at every divine flutter of your pussy milking his cock so well. Your words were simply unintelligible, mumbling breathy prayers wishing for his seed.

“No one can take you away from me,” Kuni himself is beginning to tremble with pleasure, but nevertheless he keeps up his brutal pace. Every crevice of your walls and your womb will know his essence. “You’re mine, and I’ll burn the whole damn world for you if that’s what it takes.”

In a rush of jealous envy at the mere thought of losing you, the puppet abruptly pushes your legs back onto your beautiful breasts by his chest. The erotic melody of your fluids coating the base of his cock and v-line with every sloppy thrust pushes you both over the edge of an impossible free fall of euphoria.

“Cum on me, (Y/N). C’mon, cum all over my fucking cock,” Kuni demands with salacious desperation, pounding into you again and again until you’ve ridden out every second of your climax. The sensation is indescribable as he swears he could feel your rapid heartbeat through your walls—your heartbeat in his hands like he’s the supreme god of your body.

And as such, he blesses you with ropes of hot cum to drown your pussy in his everlasting love. Kuni collapses and cradles you, wiping the tears of pleasure from your sweet, angelic cheeks.

Righteousness means nothing to gods, for whom salvation is too late and sin knows no price.

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist

[ephemeral--dreams]

Making you cry during a fight (2) - Scaramouche, Yae, Kaeya

Okay guys here you go never ask me for anything ever again /j

(part 1)

☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────

Scaramouche

There's a sort of deep, instinctive fear that takes root inside the place where a heart would be, as he watches tears fall after a few too-harsh words. 

He's hurt you. He's been careless, he's been too difficult, too much - and it's going to drive you away. You're going to abandon him because of this incident, surely. Why would you stay with someone who makes you cry? 

It's… it's not a feeling he's dealt with for many years. The fear of being left. He has not allowed anyone to get close enough to him to have any concern over whether they're around or not. Scaramouche had learned his lesson about getting attached and having emotion, after all. He had spat out whatever  bitter words he pleased and felt nothing when he upset anyone he spoke to.

But those days are past, and while that's a good thing in many ways, right now it feels anything but. 

"I-"

"Sorry. I shouldn't be crying," the way you apologize as if you're the one in the wrong stabs right through him. You're the one crying, yet he is being wounded just as much. It's an awful thing, caring. "Just. Just give me a moment…"

Scaramouche hesitates. He's paralyzed, caught up in the idea that anything he does or says may make things worse. But what wins out is the idea of fixing it, fixing things before you give up on him—

"Stop it. You shouldn't be the one saying sorry here. I shouldn't have said that to you, alright? You should know better than to take everything I say so seriously, honestly, I-" he sighs, irritated with himself more than you, before pulling you into his embrace. You don't pull away. Good. Maybe he hasn't entirely fucked things up. "...I didn't mean it. Sorry."

Yae

Yae Miko is not the sort of person who yells during a fight. Or at any time, really. So that hadn't been at all what had happened during your little conflict. 

Rather, her words were pointed to hit where it hurt, an attempt to shut down whatever silly human nonsense you thought was worth causing a riot over. Problems came and went, and most weren't nearly as important as they may seem in the moment. Living many years had led her to this conclusion. She was a busy woman who had little interest in wasting her time arguing. 

...Calculating and perhaps dismissive she may be, but she isn't cold. Yae still very much has a heart, and it skips a beat when she realizes you're nowhere to be found at the usual time she would meet with you after finishing her shrine duties. Surely you weren't that upset over it all, right? 

No, you couldn't be still lingering on the issue hours later… 

Well, you could. Others were far more sensitive to these things, a fact she often forgot. Yae should know better. Isn't she used to highly emotional people, after all? At least your tantrums weren't going to practically destroy the nation…

She finds you at the foot of the mountain, sitting and idly staring into the distance. The tear tracks on your face are all too telling. 

Yae is not above realizing when she has done something wrong. Though she's also not one to openly apologize. She doesn't do much of anything openly. 

"You don't listen to me," you tell her. 

"Well, I'll try to listen more, then. Is that satisfactory?" She offers a hand to you. You wait a moment before taking it, allowing her to pull you up. "Just remember to consider my side of things as well. We can work on it… But let's not linger on this too long. Time is fleeting for mortals like you, hm?"

Kaeya

Kaeya is excellent at one thing - avoidance. In fact, he's been successfully avoiding you ever since your fight a couple of days ago. It's easier to simply wait until you've both cooled off. 

That's what he tells himself. It's certainly not  that the fight made him feel anxious. He's not running away from his problems, of course not.

(He's lying to himself. One wrong word and you'll leave. He knows that. It's bad enough that you had an argument, archons forbid he confronts you and it's the last straw.)

So Kaeya carefully stays out of your way, doesn't speak to you, doesn't let you catch sight of him. He'll have to deal with things eventually, he knows, but… Until then, he's content to keep things this way. Four days in you finally seek him out yourself, looking exhausted and absolutely miserable. 

"Can we- can we stop fighting? You're right, I'm wrong, all that-" He can only watch as you start breaking down in front of him, a cold, sinking feeling of guilt settling in. "...Just stop ignoring me, please?"

His life has been filled with bad decisions - it seems that he's made yet another, by avoiding you so long. Now Kaeya is faced with your tears as you practically beg for his attention. It's quite the opposite of what he intended. He reaches a careful hand to brush them away. "Shh, shh. No more, alright?"

You sniffle, looking up at him. "You're not mad at me?"

"Of course not, sweetheart. I never was. We can talk about it later, okay? Let me make you feel better."

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

Brimstone Heartbeats || Yan Fire Dragon x GN Reader

Characters: Solaris

Summary: A fire dragon that wants to court you.

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness, violence, kidnapping

a/n: DRAGONS DRAGONS DRAGONS!! Y'al are human in this but send me asks if you want alternative creature reader

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Yan Fire Dragon who rules over the fire realm within the dragon territory. He doesn't get along with most dragons, his only ally being the wind dragons and their ruler. The Lava dragons' ruler would have been an ally if it weren't for his 'I'm better than thou' attitude. God did that piss off Solaris to no end.

Yan Fire Dragon who finds a creature wandering through his territory. He finds out from his guards that it was a mortal. Didn't the humans have enough land to themselves? Man he was already irritated with the mass amounts of council meetings and invitations from the other dragon rulers. Now he has to deal with a stray human?

Yan Fire Dragon who watches you from afar. You seemed innocent enough. All you were doing was wandering around the rocks and admiring the shiny small crystals of the terrain. You never took anything, just admiring. This was new for a mortal. Were you not sent by one of the kings?

Yan Fire Dragon who comes out from the brambles of burnt bushes when you get closer to his home. He's tall. Intimidating. But that didn't bother you it seems. You just marveled at his wings and tail. The horns were the most fascinating to you. He saw the urge to touch them in your eyes.

Yan Fire Dragon who keeps you around only to interrogate you. He just doesn't trust your answers. Every day it's the same questions. 'Are you working for the mortal kings?' 'What is your purpose within the dragon realm?' 'Did someone hire you to come and assassinate me?' With the same answers which were all no.

Yan Fire Dragon who comes to find out that you were on an epic travelling adventure. So you were a traveler? When he lets his guard down and let's go of the notion that you were out to hurt him and his realm he shows a bit of intrigue.

Yan Fire Dragon who finds himself staying next to you while you explain your travels and your reason for going to the other realms. You had a few notebooks and he loves reading them. He'll add his own notes to the section about his home, and he loves the way your handwriting mixes with his. And listening to you talk was enchanting.

Yan Fire Dragon who watches as his subjects watch you and him walk side by side while you explore and interview the other fire dragons. Many wonder how their ruler could find such company in a mortal. As you go around and ask about the lifestyle in the fire dragon realm, Solaris finds it adorable. Your curiosity is an oddity.

Yan Fire Dragon who hopes that the stigma with all dragons end with your travels and notebooks. For some reason though he can't take the thought of you going around interviewing the other dragons let alone the other rulers of the different realms. But that's silly. You could bring so much hope to the other species that are outcasted by the humans.

Yan Fire Dragon who finds himself becoming more angry when other fire dragons come up to you. You've become a realm icon amongst the other dragons, and no doubt the other dragon realms have heard of you. That also makes him so angry and huffs fire through his nose.

Yan Fire Dragon who lies awake at night, unable to sleep with his mind plagued with thoughts of you. Thoughts of keeping you here in his home. Locking you away for only him to see. You being mortal is a problem, but he'll find a way to make you immortal. For you to be his spouse and live beside him. He's interrupted by these thoughts when you come into his room and sleep beside him. Turns out you couldn't sleep alone.

Yan Fire Dragon who starts to court you after two months of staying within his care. You were only supposed to stay a month, but he couldn't have you leave. Not when he has so much to show you! And he couldn't have that damn lava dragon get his claws on you. Nope! No way! You're staying here, safe in the flames where he can court you.

Yan Fire Dragon who finds himself doing more domestic things with you. It's the perfect chance to show you how strong and capable he is. The servants are in awe when they watch the two of you cook together. He loves enjoying human meals with you, you're sharing your culture with him and he loves it. In turn, he tries to get you to try some of his meals. He doesn't understand that humans can't eat very charred meat.

Yan Fire Dragon who showcases his strength further by carrying you around everywhere and picking you up when you need to reach something. Sometimes he'll just walk around the towns with you on his shoulders. He doesn't complain when he gets the stares from his people. He's making sure every dragon knows that you're not to be touched unless they want to be burned.

Yan Fire Dragon who also courts you by giving gifts that show his appreciation within his culture. This is often the crystallized fire of his flame or a pendent that has been passed down through his family for years. He curses himself at your obliviousness when you just give him a thanks in return. Can't you see he wants your hand in marriage?

Yan Fire Dragon who becomes all pouty when you don't realize what he's been doing. Does all your interactions mean nothing to you? Then you bring in fairy tail books from the human realm that you had found in his library and start reading them to him. Now he understands. Your courting rituals are different from that of a dragon's. Why didn't he think of that before?

Yan Fire Dragon who you watch transform into the prince charmings and masculine characters from the stories you had read to him the last week. It was funny watching a huge dragon man try to impress you like you were a damsel in distress. You weren't which made it even more hilarious.

Yan Fire Dragon who loves transforming into his dragon form and being pampered by you. You scratching his scales and calling him a good dragon as him on his back and his large tail thumping on the ground. Big puppy vibes. He also loves having you on his back while he flies through the sky.

Yan Fire Dragon who snarls and burns your newly made maps when finds out that you had planned on leaving. When you ask him what happened to your maps that had burned holes in between the parchments, he simply said you must have left them next to the fire place. There is no fireplace.

Yan Fire Dragon who just grabs you by the waist and drags you back to his room. Big strong dragon cuddles to reassure his heart that you aren't leaving. That didn't stop you though. You had to depart a week later much to his disappointment.

Yan Fire Dragon who watches you leave with puppy like sadness. You promised to visit, and you were going to the wind dragon realm, the safest realm with the dragons he could think of! While you're there, he and the wind dragon ruler exchange letters of your health and such. Though he can smell the feelings the wind dragon has for you from the words. Soon the letters stop coming to Solaris.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[lilsocksiswriting]

Teacher's Pets

Fandom: JJK

Paring: Professor!Geto X Reader X Incubus!Gojo

Summary: The classic spell gone wrong that ends the reader being Professor Getot's pet Incubus' next meal.

Warming: NSFW, Darker Content, dub-con, no beta, minors DNI

Tags: College AU, student-teacher relations, fingering, praise, dirty talk, cum play, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral, size kink, double penetration, anal, squirting

Word Count: 7.5K

You only performed the silly ritual with your friends so that they would let you go home. You were all from pregaming at their house, laughing as they got ready for a night out, but you had no intention of being out on such a chilly and dreary night after a long day of classes. 

You have every intention of spending the evening at home under your heated blanket with Animal Crossing and a big mug of hot chocolate. Your English Lit professor was not a part of these plans, but here he is sitting in the middle of your living room sofa with his legs so invitingly spread. 

“P-Professor Geto…h-how did you get into my apartment?” you demand. The shake in your voice gives away how unnerved you are to find your professor has broken in.

Professor Geto lays his head against a closed fist and gives you that smile that makes him known as one of the more easygoing professors on campus. He is one of your favorites who had made reading those long classics printed on Bible-thin paper enjoyable. So enjoyable that you are currently taking him for the fourth year in a row.

He was also young, the youngest in the English department to be precise. The proximity age,  good looks, and charm made a lot of the freshmen develop some sort of crush. You were not an exception to this. However, this infatuation with Professor Geto never went away after freshman year. You are ashamed to admit that scene you have walked in on is the beginning of a fantasy or two that keeps you up at night trying so hard to bring yourself to an orgasm.

But it was never enough. Your fingers could never quite reach that spot, you could never rub your clit in just the right way. It was so embarrassing and strange to be thinking that you can’t make yourself cum while a professor has broken into your apartment. 

“I had a friend's help, one that has been just dying to meet you.” 

Snapping his fingers, a sudden presence looms over you. A tall white-haired man stands just behind you in nothing but a black blindfold and matching collar around his neck, just below his Adam’s apple.

“Isn’t she just a cutie drenched in that sweet smell of need?”

Need? Need what? You gasp when the man pulls you back into his chest. You can feel his hardened cock sandwiched between him and your back.

“Is that so Satoru? That does make sense. Desire will make us do just about anything after all.”

Satoru nods eagerly, “Out of those mortals she was the one that was marked. So needy and desperate to cum because she can’t do it herself.”

“Oh, “ Suguru coos and his voice is dripping with a faux pity, “you poor thing.”

“H-how,”  you bite your tongue so as to not reveal such embarrassing information about your….troubles.

“You look a little confused Y/N, allow me to explain what’s going on and what’s going to happen. It may be hard to believe but this is  Satoru, “ He pauses and pats his thigh, which looks so sung in those dark slacks. 

 Your foot moves to step forward, but the professor isn’t calling to you.

A black wisp of smoke passes you, the weight of Gojo’s body against your back disappears and he reappears at Professor Geto’s feet. He sits there on his knees, hard, dripping cock on full display, like a loyal dog with a black leash now attached to his collar. You feel a tinge of jealousy somewhere deep in your chest at how happy and content Satoru looks.

“And he’s, my incubus. Now at the time, I’m sure you and your friends were completely unaware that the little ‘get lucky’ ritual you all performed was actually a marking ritual and it looks like it marked you to be my succubus’s next meal. So, you’re going to let Satoru here fuck until his full and satisfied.”

Satoru for his part looks so docile smiling at you, but there’s just something about him, an air he has that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Like at any moment the demon is going lounge at you.

You swallow and look between your professor and his ‘pet’ babbling, “But…I- I didn’t know. How could- when? I-I mean we did that like what? An hour ago?”

“No excuses. This is your doing and you’ll be fixing it whether you like it or not,” The sternness in his voice leaves little room for argument.

“Why me though?” your voice is getting higher as the panic rises.” We all did the same ritual together. We all wanted to ‘get lucky’. So why was I marked”

“Oh, that’s because Suguru’s got a big fat-hng!” Suguru shuts the demon up by pulling his leash taught.

“Because Gojo desires what I desire,” He supplies little of an actual explanation.

Suguru then lets the back leash be turned into smoke, thin whisps falling between his fingers before dissipating into nothing. The demon’s blindfold follows suit revealing a predatory pair of shining blue eyes.

 You have no time to dwell on the warmth that Suguru’s words leave in your stomach. Their meaning is just on the tip of your tongue but is forgotten under Satoru’s gaze.

“She looks so cute blushing Suguru,“ the demon wines,” Please I'm dying over here!”

“Well Y/N? Are you going to let Satoru sit here and suffer?”You swallow thickly. Satoru did look pitiful down there. His cock flushed red and drooling. Aching for soem of relief. He’s so desperate that he jerks his hips into the air as if that would help. It was arousing. And your professor sitting on your living room sofa, legs spread wide and welcoming with that lazy smirk was even more arousing.

The sick thing is that the thought of laying down and letting this stranger rut his hips into you like a dog in heat while your favorite professor leisurely watches does cross your mind and does make you feel hot. But, there’s a single thread of logic that pulls you back to reality.

 Your professor broke into your apartment with some…some demon who he wanted you to fuck in front of him. Ok, that still sounds a little hot- no! This was all wrong. This was a crime. This was….This was…

You take a step back and Suguru’s face falls. He warms you, “Now, now Y/N you wouldn't want me to sick him on you, would you? I can’t be held responsible for anything he does if I have to.”

“Bu-but I don’t mean…I didn’t think that it was real. I-I just wanted to go home.”

“Excuses, excuses,” he tsks.

You take another step back. Suguru nudges his sleek dress boot against Satoru’s naked thigh and the demon attacks.

In the blur, you are on your hands and knees, a firm hand pressing down on the back of your neck keeping your face smooshed into the carpet.

“Aww listen to her wine~ ain’t she such a cutie?”

With his free hand, Gojo pulls down the cotton shorts and panties down to your knees.

“Suguru! Suguru! look! She’s got a little wet patch on her patients already,” your face burns as the demon excitedly points out the dark patch on your underwear.

“Looks like she’s been hiding some things from us. You should  know now Y/N that you can't hide anything for Satoru.”

You feel a hand creep further and further up your thigh. No, not there, don't touch there-

“Fuck you sound so good whining,” Gojo comments as his fingers slip between your slick folds, “And you’re wet already. Bet it was all those dirty fantasies about your English professor running through your pretty head when you came back to see him here.”

How did he know that? You can’t dwell on the question too long because Satoru is pushing two slender fingers into you.

“And what are these dirty fantasies of Y/N’s about?”

You do your best to shake your head and plead to the demon, “P-please don’t-oh god!” your own moan cuts You off. Gojo's fingers are slipping in and out of you. Going deeper than your fingers could ever reach.  They Curl into spots that make you tremble and forget how to string words together into coherent sentences. 

“She’s got such a filthy mind,” He begins revealing all your dirty secrets while fucking a third finger into you. ”Wants you to fuck her pretty much everywhere on campus. Over the desk in your office, down on her knees letting you fuck her throat in the most secluded parts of the library's old wing, letting you fuck this soaking cunt  in front of the whole class to show them who she belongs to. Fuuuuck, what a lewd girl you are.”

In the position the demon has you in you can’t see Professor Geto squeezing the outline of his hardened cock through his slacks.

“Go on,” Geto demands.  

“And you like it messy don’t you cutie,” Gojo laughs spreading his fingers apart making your toes curl at the feeling of being stretched open even more, “You can drop the sweet and scared virgin act. I know you want to be drooling all over Suguru’s cock, want your spit and his cum to be dribbling down your chin. You want Suguru to use that heavy, beautiful  cock of his to paint your face and tits. Y/N here thinks about getting to go to your office first thing in the morning just so you can fuck this sloppy cunt full of cum and walk around with a cute little jeweled plug keeping it all in for the whole day. Doesn't that sound so nice Suguru?”

“We’ll see how things play out Satoru. Now come on, don't play with your food.”

You are flipped over onto your back. Gojo makes quick work of throwing your shorts and panties to the side. You are left in nothing but the cropped hoodie you wore to your friend's place. Since the pre-game took place at her apartment just a few floors below, you had not bothered with a bra.

From this new position, Satoru looks down at you with the hungriest look in his eyes and a big smile plastered across his face. Craning your neck to escape his hungry gaze you see an upside-down view of your professor working on unbuckling his pants.

Gojo, wanting all your attention, gets it by slapping the head of his cock against your slick clit. 

“You hear that cutie?” and yes you do hear the wet slapping noise you two make. Each time the tip slaps against your clit it sends a pleasurable little shock through your body. 

Then he starts rubbing his erection between your folds, using your wetness to coat it.  His hands yank your hoodies up over your plump breasts. You whimper as his hands run back down your sides and grip your hips. 

“W-wait- don’t!” but you plead goes ignore as Gojo pushes himself inside you. 

Your back arches and your eyes roll back. Gojo feels so good, he’s going so deep, hitting all the right spots that are making your jaw tremble, it was like his dick was made for you. 

“S-see? Doesn't that feel good? You feel so good squeezing around my cock. You want me to fuck you, don’t you? You can try and d-deny that all you like,” he begins slowing rolling his hips into yours, “But the way you’re suckin’ me in right now. Your body can't lie to me Y/N. I know how much you crave to be fucked until you can’t think. You want to be nothing but a  fuck toy for your favorite professor.”

You whimper and turn your head away from him.  The demon was right about everything. You love this. Your body is thrumming with lust and pleasure that you have been craving for weeks. But you never wanted it like this!

“B-but this is so wrong~,” you say as tears well up in your eyes, and his pace picks up.

“Shhh, shhh, there's no need to cry like that baby. Just listen to yourself,” Gojo soothes cupping your cheek so that your eyes stay on him. 

With a little hiccup and a sniffle, you obey. You don’t have to strain your ears much to hear the lewd noises you and Gojo’s bodies make. You moan,you sound so wet, and it feels so good.

You can tell yourself that this is wrong, but you can’t deny how the incubus’s cock is making you feel.

Suguru has fished his hard-on out of his pants and is now slowly stroking himself to the view before him. His incubus rocking his hips into your squelching cunt.  Each time Gojo thrusts into you your tits give a little bounce. It's quite a sight to see his favorite student getting fucked by his favorite pet. 

‘Mabey Satoru is on to something. We both have become lonely.’

“S-satoru! s-slow down, s’too much” Your senses become muddles with ecstasy and pleasure.  Your morals are slipping away from you too fast.

The demon laughs at your pathic pleas, “Slow down? But your body is loving this cutie. Fuck, fuck fuck, that’s it.  Feels so good squeezing around my cock. Gunna milk me dry if you keep this up.”

Your back arches to the carpet again and your eyes widen. No way that you were about to cum on a stranger's cock while your English professor watched stroking his own! And so quickly! Holy fuck, the upside-down views of Professor Geto jerking off his thick cock is mouth-watering.

Your orgasm crashes over you. Your skin becomes flushed with a delightful tingle and that knot that kept tightening in your tummy just snaps. You can’t think about anything else but the way that your wall is molding perfectly to his cock.  A thick viscous warmth floods your cunt as Satoru’s hips press against yours.

“That’s that’s it cutie. yesyeysyes,” Satoru chants in a tight voice.

He doesn't pull out until your body feels like putty in his hands.  Thighs twitching from the aftershock is the first of many mind-blowing orgasms to come. In your post-orgasmic state, it is easy for the demon to pick you up off the ground and set you between his legs. Your back sags against his bare chest.

As you come back down to your senses the incubus pulls both your legs over his thighs. Your face becomes flushed red all over again as the demon spreads you out in front of your professor.

Said the man stopping stroking himself, settling his hand around the base of his cock. He doesn’t want to cum yet. You’ll be taking his cum tonight, all of it. 

You try to look away from Professor Geto’s intense stare but  Satoru grips on your chin between his fingers, keeping your head forward. You wine in protest and squeeze your eyes shut as the demon begins to play with his own cum seeping out of your hole.

“St-stop-ah! Please th-that’s”

“It’s what cutie?” Gojo teases smearing his cum between your fold,” it feels good?” he gathers some of the milky white substance between his fingers and pushes it back into you,” It must feel good within how you’re clenching around my fingers.  Feel like the horny thing wants to be filled with a cock again.”

“Is that so Satoru?”

“I'm sure of it. She’s still drenched in that smell. I think she just needs some reassurance. You just need to relax Y/N we know exactly what you need and what you want,” Satoru curls his fingers inside you right over that spot that has you throwing your head back with a gasp. “But you are fighting it with those pesky morals. Come on now, just let’em go Y/N.”

The incubus words are doing something to you. Suguru knows what the succubus is doing, he can sense the magic coming off his breath causing you to grow unfocused again. Not enough to make you lose track of where you are or what’s going on, but enough to make you crave another orgasm.

The demon nuzzles into your neck and continues to enchant you with his words and slender fingers,” Don’t deny yourself this Y/N I know how much you need to feel good, and Suguru and I are here to help. You just got to relax, that’s it, relax those muscles for us. Let yourself feel good yea?”

Watching you relax against Satoru as he lazy pumps his fingers inside was a scene that Suguru could watch for hours, but some other parts of him can’t wait. 

“Y/N, come here,” he patted his thigh just as he had done with Satoru. 

The succubus lets go of you so you can crawl on your hands and knees to your professor. His incubus takes a moment to enjoy the view before crawling after you. You sit on your knees between the professor’s spread legs, still with that red blush across your cheeks. By the end of the night, they’ll fuck that shyness right out of you. He is sure of it. For now, he wants to see how obedient you can be. 

“Suck it,” he demands softly, angling the head of his dick towards your mouth. 

Suguru lets off a shaky breath as you take him into your mouth. From behind you Satoru’s darkened eyes watch you slowly slip more of Sugur's thick shaft into your mouth.

You've never had anyone as big as  Suguru so of course you struggle.  A firm hand running its fingers through your hair and another pair massaging your ass keeps encouraging you to keep going. 

His praise is just a bonus,”That’s it, shit look that Satoru. She's so determined.”

“Turns you on, doesn't it?”, the demon asks knowing the answer but wanting to see your reaction to your dear professor confirming it.

“Yes.” With your nose finally nuzzled snuggly against the thick patch of hair between his legs you moan. Finally, finally, you're seeing Satoru’s and Suguru's side of things. Realizing that they are here to make you feel good so the demon can have his fill of your sweet energy.

You pull back quickly and cough, gasping for breath. But you are so determined to please the English professor that you take  His cock back into your mouth pressing your tongue into the underside of his shaft this time. 

“Look like Satoru was spot on about you, “ Suguru groans. “Acting like this is all sorts of wrong, but when it comes down to it you are such an obedient little slut for us.”

He watches you experimentally bob your head, catching on quickly. Who knows that timid, studious girl who sits in front of all his lectures but barely says a word could suck dick so good?

His eyes flutter close enjoying your mouth bobbing and slobbering all over him. You get into a steady rhythm, drooling all over his cock making the process of slipping him down the back of your throat easier. 

His eyes snap open when you begin to gag. Your throat constricts around him and thank God you pull off of him or else you’d be gagging for different reasons.

You scramble to brace your hands against Suguru’s big thighs and whip your head to look over your shoulder. Satoru smiles innocently at you as he rolls his hips into you again.

“S-Satoru! I-I can’t suck him off with you d-doing that ~”, your head collapses against Suguru’s leg as the demon fucks into your messy cunt making your legs feel like jello. 

Suguru’s hand slips from the top of your head  to cup your cheek to have you look up at him. You look beautiful with your ruddy cheeks, short breaths, and blow pupils. 

“You can too baby,  you're such a fast learner after all and so eager to please.” that seemed to be all the encouragement you needed because you took him back into your mouth. Suguru lets out a long breath, “Atta girl.”

Your rhythm becomes unsteady, and you are still gagging every now and then, but it is just as good if not better. Suguru’s combs back your hair to keep it out of the way of your pretty lips warped around his cock.

As Satoru takes you from behind, he leans over to talk into your ear, “Now try hollowing your cheeks, yea just like that. fuck, you’re a natural at this” he cuts his eye to Suguru, “ We have to keep her. She’s barley done this before you know. She’s read some dirty fanfictions, watches porn, had a few akwrad times, but has barey evrer tasted dick like this  until now. “

No, not this again. You didn't quite like how the demon could work his way into your head and find out all your secrets. You can't object this time with your mouth already occupied, but you can groan around Suguru’s cock and wiggle your hips. Satoru laughs, griping you tighter so you can’t wither around much as he sinks his cock  back into you.

“She's so embarrassed Suguru~” he teases, “She doesn’t want you to know sad her sex life has been until now. Just some flings here and there, awkward grouping, and pathetic dry humping in a Honda Accord. She's the only person who ever made herself cum before me, well before she hit this dry spell that’s made her so desperate for pleasure. Oh fuckfuckfuck.  Y/N  we’re going to ruin this pussy. Shit, she's so excited for that Suguru.”

 You pull back to catch your breath, burring your face in Suguru’s clothed thigh as Satoru pounds into your tight cunt. The words were spot on but still embarrassing to hear out loud. Suguru for his part thinks your reaction is cute and funny. 

“Now now, “ he turns her head up to look at him “No need to be embarrassed.  You want to feel good right?”

“Y-yes, but-”

“No buts then. Just be a good girl, do what I say, let Satoru feed on you, and you’ll feel so good you’ll lose your God damn mind OK.”

Oh, did sound good. Too good to be true  And it was still wrong. But you couldn't say no to the idea of being used by the two men. Let them fill just about every hole you have with their cum. Getting to cum so many times that you might lose count.

“Ok.”, you answer them opening your mouth wide for Suguru to slip his fat cock back onto into. 

“yesssss,“ Satoru hisses, “she’s thinking about letting us use her like our cute personal sex toy.  Wants us to  cum inside her, doesn't want to waste a single drop.”

You moan around Suguru’s cock confirming that yes, you want both their cum, you need it. You need to feel your English professor fill your mouth and his demon fiils your cunt again. 

“That’s such a good girl,” Suguru groans, hands coming to comb back your hair so he can get a good look at you, “Gonna be a good girl and take everything we give you?”

 You do your best to nod. 

“She does sound like a keeper Satoru .”

“I-I told you.”

You continue to bob your head. The repeated assault on the back of your throat causes tears to collect at the corner of your eye. Even though it’s uncomfortable and going to cause your throat to be sore tomorrow you keep going. You want to feel your  English Professor’s cum shooting down the back of your throat. 

“Shit, that’s it, baby, that ittttt,” with his other hands Suguru  reached out for the demon, “Satoru come’er,”

Looking up Suguru grips the back of his head and pulls Satoru into a hungry kiss. He pushes you down on his cock making you gag more. You don’t mind it though, the sight above and the grunts from Professor Geto as his cum spurts down your throat is more than worth it.

Suguru pulls away and looks down at you. He feels you swallow around him trying your hardest to swallow every single drop of his cum, but some still manages to slip out of the corner of your mouth. Luckily the incubus is still there behind you, steadily thrusting his cock into you. He dips down to lick the cum dribbling out of your mouth.

“Poot thing, you cummed too much Suguru”

The Professor was quiet for a moment, thinking over what the Incubus had been hinting at tonight, “She’ll learn to take it all like a good girl in time. “

Satoru moans giddy, “She will, and I’ll teach her all there is to know!”

Satoru was still hunched over you as you pull off  Suguru's cock gasping for breath. You don’t get a chance to catch it Satoru pulls you into the same kind of messy open-mouth kiss you were seeing above. He can taste Suguru on your tongue.

When he breaks away you still gasp for breath and it’s such a sight. A  shiny string of spit connecting your swollen lips, your eyes too big and dazed, your face full of want, fuck,  you’re perfect

“You ready to cum again cutie?”

You nod eagerly, pussy clenching around his dick.  Satoru let's go of your chin and snake hands down between your legs. His finger home in you your clit and starts to rub vigorously back and forth over it.

Your eyes go wide and it's like something suddenly snaps. If not for Suguru’s leg you probably would be face down on the floor right now. You collapse against your professor who’s already caught on to what his incubus wants from you. He’s pretty sure this will be the first time that you’ve ever squirted.  

Sugar is no help to you. He lays his arms across the back of your couch and enjoys the look of panic that crosses your face. 

“W-wiat !” You get a little bit of strength back and use it to try and escape Gojo, but it's useless. Feeling the pressure continue to build in your stomach only makes you more frantic, ”I need a time-out! Hnnn~p-lease, i-i need a bathroom break or i-i’m gonna”

The demon doesn't stop his assault. Big fat tears of embarrassment well up in those pretty eyes of yours as you feel the release coming and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

You cry as Satoru's cock counties to drill into your gushing pussy. He fucks you through the blinding, mind-numbing orgasm while chasing his own.  Slurred cruces mix with your name bubble from his mouth, and he empties himself inside your cunt again. 

“Shit,“ Satoru breathes. He pulls his hand to his mouth and licks your wetness from his fingers, ”She so good. I am so glad you marked yourself for me cutie. Couldn't think of any other mortal I'd want to fucking ruin.”

Your mushy brain barely registers anything the incubus is saying. It’s still clouded by feeling dam good and just having cummed so damn hard. You can feel how the demons are still plugged inside you and hard. Eventually, you begin to feel other things, like the button of Suguru’s slacks digging into your cheek and the wetness coating your thighs.

‘Wow’

“D-di I just squirt?”

​​ 

You can't believe it.  You’ve ever seen people squirt in porn and you thought it took some sort of special skill set to do so. 

“Mhmm, “ Satoru  hums,  “And I bet it felt as good as it looked.”

You bashfully nod, “it did.” 

You shift your knees, the carpet beginning to leave a scratchy red imprint on your skin. Doing so reminds you of the pulsing  cock still inside you. “H-how are you still hard? We’ve done it twice already.”

Satoru laughs, oh he has so much to teach you, “Because I’m still hungry for you.” 

“Y/N,  baby, come up here to get off your knees. You look like you are getting uncomfortable in this position.”

You nod and though Satoru’s pouty about it he pulls out and helps you crawl onto the other’s lap.

With Satoru’s help, you pull your last article of clothing off. In front of you Suguru’s eye level with your titis and can’t keep his eye off them. You shiver as his fingers glide over the soft flesh then flick one of your nipples making it pebble from the harsh treatment. He hums approvingly.

Ok, that was pretty hot. Even hotter is the dark and hungry way that he stares at you. Behind you, Satoru's hands guide you down starting from your shoulders then past your elbows, and stopping at your wrists. You squeak when he wraps one hand around your writs and pulls them towards his cock still hard and slick from your pussy.

 With your breast now pressed even further in his face Segura cups one of your supple breasts in the palm of his hand. He runs a thumb over your pebbled nipple. Your breath catches in the back of your throat. 

You straddle the professor’s leg. His hard-on presses into your tummy making you moan wantingly.  Suguru smiles softly. All it took was a good fucking and your putty in their hands. 

“Oh, not expecting them to be so sensitive?” Suguru teases with that easy smile of his.

You nod your head. Since when was your home this cold? Or was it the man- the demon behind you? The one who is occupying himself by leaving sloppy wet kisses along your neck.

Another mouth, Suguru’s,  is suddenly on you as well. He takes a nipple into your mouth and sucks, hard, causing a moan to be ripped from you. Suguru doesn't leave out your other tit from his attention either, squeezing and pawing at the fat. 

You find yourself rocking your hips back and forth, the rough material of his slacks providing only some relief to the aching between your leg that has flared up again. 

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Satoru whispers against your ear.

His hands move to your hips now,  holding them and guiding them in a steadier rhythm. It wasn't as hard or fast as you had in mind, but you can feel so much more. The incubus knew exactly what your body needed, more so than you apparently. 

“It’s s’good S-Satoru, but…I want more,” there is still a hint of that downright adorable bashfulness, but the two can tell you lust is overcoming you and you become their shameless little whore. 

Suguru pulls away from the boob with a wet pop, “Insatiable, she’ll fit right in.” Then begins giving the other the same treatment.

You whine, leaning back more, and shove your chest further into the professor's face. The demon’s voice behind you only drives you closer to cummign again, all over your English professor's nice dress pants. 

“Look at him Y/N, his cock’s already hard for us again.  So flushed and drooling just for us, for you. You know how long he’s wanted to bury it in this sweet cunt of yours?” to be the malevolent demon he is  Satoru slips hands hand down the pinch of your clit as you roll it against Suguru’s thigh.

“Satoru, “  he warns the demon. 

“What?” Satoru begins to lightly rub the sensitive nub as if to say he is sorry. “If you get to know all  of Y/N’s dirty thoughts about her favorite English professor she should get to know what you think of your favorite student.” 

When Suguru doesn't have a reply to the demon he continues, “He loses it when you wear those cute skirts and baggy cardigans. Loves thinking of how your titis fit so snugly in those tank tops.  He Imagines just yanking them down and getting these perfect tits to flop out. And you’re not the only one who fantasizes about fucking in a lecture hall. He wants to watch you go down on your knees in an empty classroom. Take these tits and squish them around his cock. You stay down there like a good girl while you let him cum all over your face.”

Your moan is high-pitched, and another orgasm is building up in your groin. How many would this make now? You‘ve already lost count.

“You like that?” Satoru asks you and you nod. 

“M’gonna cum again.”

Suguru Chuckles, ”We can tell. Look at  the mess you’re making baby.”

When you look down sure enough there was a  dark patch where your pussy is grinding back and forth. Normally you would have hid your face in embarrassment, but if you can't keep track of how many times you’ve cummed how could you find the will to be embarrassed?

“Why don’t you go ahead and cum for us again baby, go on. Let us see that pretty face again, ” Suguru commands.

 You don't have to be told twice. On his word, you feel your body tense. You have to grab onto the professor’s shoulders just to hold yourself steady as an orgasm shudders through you. You look absolutely amazing cumming. Suguru leans back just enough to really get a good look at you. Your chest rises and falls with one big breath after the other. Your nipples are perked. Your body is obviously overstimulated at this point.  Your drolling, eyes glossy with unshed tears, and pupils blown wide.

“That’s it, atta girl,” Suguru praises you.

You fall against Suguru’s chest feeling spent from benign brought to one orgasm after the other. Satoru’s hand groups at the supple flesh of your thighs meaning that it isn’t over yet A small sound akin to a whimper comes from you. It wasn’t that you were opposed to more, but you’re not sure that your body can handle it. 

“Tapping out already?” Satoru asks and you  nod, “Well that's too damn bad, there is no tapping out in this situation, did I fuck  you so good that you forgot?”

Oh, oh no. “I-I don't think I can go one though.”

“Aww, I don't care,” his voice is lowered to some darker and greedier, ”You're the one that performed that ritual, and you know you have to face the consequences of those actions.”

You whimper again because he was absolutely right, and your body was too tired to fight him on it. You have been marked, the incubus was going to feed on you until he was full, and by the looks of things Satoru had a big appetite. 

There was also your English professor and his hungry eyes and those fantasies that his pet shared. Said man lets you lean against him and catch your breath. He almost feels bad, almost. The way your body looks with you overstimulated and so fucked out that you have a hard time catching your breath was just so addictive. He could look at you all day on this. 

“Oh, you wanna know  what just popped in his head?” He doesn’t wait for a response,  “He wants to tie you up in some pretty ropes and put a wand to your clit and just sit back with a nice drink and watch you squirt and cum for hours.  How does it sound cutie?”

You moan. You’re not sure what a wand is,  but you can tell from context it's some kind of sex toy. A sex toy that the professor you’ve been crushing on wanted to use on you for hours on end? Along with arousal, you feel a warm feeling flutter in your chest and smile goofily. Your professor likes you. 

“Aww look at that, “ Suguru cups your cheek as a signal that he wants you to look at him.  You push on his chest and sit up on his lap.”Whatcha smiling for a baby?”

“You like me,” you answer. 

He chuckles combing your hair back to get a look at your love-drunk face. Maybe they should stop soon. You look so far gone already,” Yea baby  I do like you, and Satoru likes you too. Was that not clear before?”

“Mmm, maybe?” you giggle. 

“You look so beautiful drunk off our cocks  cutie. You want more of them?” Satoru asks kneading your ass cheeks. 

“Oh god,” you huff.  You feel so good but it’s too much, you don't know if your body can handle all this attention at once.

The demon behind you giggles, ”Aww, cutie, there isn't a god here tonight. Just a sorcerer and his demons.

There was something off about that sentence, but your fuzzy head can’t connect the dots. 

“Would you like that cutie? You wanna work with me to make Suguru feel good?”

Now that you understand and nod eagerly looking down at the inky hair your fingers are interned with, “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Then why  don't you ride that thick cock of his?”

At the suggestion, you're already pawing at  the professor’s hard cock. When did he get so hard again? Or was he still hard from the last time? You couldn't tell what time was anymore.

Somehow you managed to line himself up with your messy entrance then slowly start to sit down. Fuck, he was big.  The fat head of his cock already felt like too much. Your little whines from the painful could make Suguru cum  on the spot right then and there if he wasn’t putting so much effort into not cumming. He can't look away from your contorted face as you continue to take more of him.

Then finally, you let out a heavy breath fully seated on Suguru’s lap. You feel so dazed. He’s all the way in and you can feel every inch of the man in every spot inside you. Just having him inside you feels like you’re going to cum. 

“Good girl,”  he purrs rubbing his palm over your abdomen. Pressing down and groans because he can feel his aching cock under his hand. “Took me so well all by herself, fuck you’re so beautiful like this baby. Gonna stuff you full of my cum sooner than I thought. “

“We,” Satoru corrects from behind  spreading your cheeks apart,” because while you get to fuck that perfect cunt, I get this cute little ass all to myself.”

You yelp feeling something cool slip between your ass cheeks. It's a struggle but when you get a glance over your shoulder you see a long string of his saliva dripping down from Satoru’s mouth. Your eyes widen in what might be the horror or a residual wave of embarrassment. 

“S-Satoru i-i’ve never done it this way  before.”

Suguru’s fingers under your chin draw your attention back to him.  His smooth smile is intoxicating just like the incubus’ words. 

“Now come on baby, yes you can. “

“But all at once?”

“We know you can. And you wanna feel good right?” Satoru asks right by the shell of your ears. 

While you shiver under him Satoru strokes his dick, spreading his precum down the shaft.

“I do.”

You can't see him, but Suguru can see the excited, borderline feral look in his eyes. He licks his fangs, long ones that you might be too far gone to feel pierce your skin, and continues his magic onto you, he places his hands back on your ass, “And you want you to make us feel good?”

“I do.”

“And I can taste that want rolling off you in waves cutie.”

With just the slightest roll of his hips, Suguru has you moaning his name and collapsing back into his chest. Suguru himself moans feeling you clench around him even tighter. 

Satoru crowds further over you like he’s closing in on his prey.

“You wanna taste it Y/N? Do you wanna be like me and be able to taste the feelings you feel right now and see all the naughty things going through our professor’s head?”

You’re not thinking straight You’re so cock drunk  that you don’t see the glaring red flags of what his words imply. You just know that yes,  you do want to know what  Professor Geto t really thinks of you. 

“I do.”

With a  thrift thrust, you feel another cock enter you. Both you and Satoru moan. You felt full before but now you felt absolutely stuffed with one cock stretching your pussy and the other stretching your ass. How did he slip so easily inside you? How could you still think at this point?

“S’much,” your words feel heavy on your tongue. 

“And it's not even all of it,” Satoru says putting your body at ease, “We haven't even started to fuck you yet cutie.”

A guttural moan is ripped from you as both men began fuck your holes. The world fully falls away at this point. Suguru’s grip your hips moving them how he wants to. His feet are planted firmly on the ground so he can fuck up into you. Behind you and in the same tandem that Satoru fucks your ass as his own hands grope your breasts.

“Oh fuck…c-can feel. Ahh~” Your hand's fists Suguru’s nice dress shirt. It wasn't fair that he was the only one that got to be dressed. Your struggle to breathe each time you feel, yes feel,  the heads of their dicks connecting inside of you your breath hitches in a little hiccup. It's adorable. Satoru looks forward to experiencing more of these cute reactions.

Suguru swallows and looks down at you in awe at how you can take them both. He can feel your drool seeping into his  dress shirt and the way you clench around him. You won't last long like this. 

“Satoru if you’re going to do it, do it now.“

“Fuck fuck, fuckI I know.  Fuck she feels so good Suguru,” the demon moans and whines.  Suguru is the only one not drooling now. 

Your professor’s pace becomes more brutal making your moans higher and louder. His demon follows suit. His hips loudly smack against your ass with enough force to make your cheeks jiggle. Below you, there is the lewd squelching of Suguru driving into you. 

Satoru pushed up on your tits so that your back is flushed against his. Now you can't hide your face anymore. And what a face it is. 

Your jaw snaps shut when Satoru brings his fangs to your neck. Your teeth clack together, and a hiss of air is pushed through them. It hurts a lot more than you think it should.  The pain spreads from your neck to the center of your chest. 

“S-S’toru,” you weakly protest.

The demon unlatches his mouth from your neck. He looks ethereal to Suguru. At the call of his demon's name, his gaze shifts to Suguru just as the man pulls him into another sloppy kiss.  When the two pull apart both of their mouths are now smeared with your blood.

Satoru smiles and then turns his attention back to you. Your next to get a sloppy open-mouth kiss that you greedily accept.

You're about to cum again, you can feel that familiar pressure building. Satoru can taste it in the air. He savors inklings of another orgasm from you. They can feel the way you pathetically roll your hips trying to meet the brutal pace he’s set that’s become more erratic. 

Satoru pulls away and you stare into the wild eyes of the demon  “You about cum pretty girl?”

 You weakly nod watching as he bites his lips hard enough to draw a fat drop of blood, he picks it up.

“Then cum with us, join us, yea?”

“Yes, yes, yes~” you catch as the pressure bursts, and you see nothing but darkness and stars. 

“Shit, Atta girl, fuck goanna milk me dry,” Suguru’s hold on you becomes bruising as he thrusts up once more and buries himself into your tight heat, and empties himself inside you.

Satoru crashes his lips against you once again, slick tongue slipping into your mouth that fills with a copper taste. The demon’s hips staling flush against your ass. 

Your eyes roll back, and you let this new darkness consume you. The world is still for a moment. The pleasure courses through you. God, it feels like it’s never going to stop. Your mind starts to fade. You try to cling to these new sensations that are barely there but eventually, you get pulled away in unconsciousness. 

The two men lose their breath as they fill you with their cum and your body greedily squeezes every last drop. Once they grow soft they gingery pulling out of your limp body. 

Satoru is hesitant to break the scene,” Is she?”

Sugar nods looking at your unconscious body in his arms,” Yea.”

The demon laughs, Oppsie~”

“How long until the transformation comes to fruition?”

“A while, a few weeks Mabey, “he soothes your hair,” But she’ll feel her first hunger for sure.”

“Hmm,  you know  your venom.”

“Oh, I know, poor thing, but when her first hunger hits  she’ll instinctually seek you out, master.”

The Sorcerer hums, “Won’t that be interesting?”

[trappolia]

NEVER LOVE AN ANCHOR ── dan heng x gn!reader x blade, former dan feng x gen!reader x yingxing, 2.4k

you dream of blood.

the golden ichor that seeps through the jagged cracks of an old, divine blade. the deep red that drips from your wounds as a cruel reminder of your mortality, an ever existing shadow that haunts you through all the ships you travel through.

you dream of love.

a golden hairpin that catches your eye while walking through the bustling streets of a marketplace. the red paint that smudges on a lover’s lips when you exchange kisses. strokes of black ink upon parchment, reading words more poetic than one can ever have the courage to say aloud.

it is dizzying, in the way all dreams are. you are sitting under the moon and sharing a drink with someone you consider your friend, family, lover, and the next you are driving your spear through his chest. there are no blades of grass on this ship, no grassy fields for you to hide in, and the tendrils that you feel swaying, rustling, in waves past your ankles, are the chains of the sins you bear as someone they call their beloved.

the crew of the astral express are a welcome distraction, kind and warm as they offer you their companionship in their own personal ways. you help march 7th pin up photos in her room, laughing as you reminisce over your past travels through silly selfies and scenic photos. you sit with himeko during breakfast over a cup of coffee (yours brewed by yourself rather than the gorgeous redhead, thank the aeons) and indulge in the peaceful silence, a sense of normality that the woman is more than happy to give you after all that you’ve been through. mr yang tells you stories of other universes, weaving the already existing threads of all the lives you’ve seen around you into something completely different yet the same— and sometimes you can’t help but wonder if he lived a different life before all this.

but no matter what, you always find your way back to dan heng.

though you have your own assigned room, the simple arrangement of a flat pillows and a blanket on the floor of the archives is as much of a home to you as it is to dan heng. you’ve spent many a night in his room, poring over texts and books with him, more often than not passing out on his lap or in his sleeping area.

( “they come as a pair,” march 7th once told the trailblazer when they asked about the two of you. “himeko said that arrived on this ship together. whatever they went through in the past, they made it through because they had each other. but that’s just what i think.” )

it’s true, in a sense. what would you have done without dan heng, travelling through all those ships that always met the same end? you wonder if you would’ve lasted long enough for himeko to find you and bring you to the astral express.

probably not.

dan heng feels responsible for you. he doesn’t say it, but it’s obvious. you once confessed your insecurities to him on a dark night, back when the two of you were still getting used to having a proper roof above your heads without fear of the ship getting attacked or waking up to security banging through the door.

( “what if they think i’m useless because i’m always clinging onto you?” you had asked him in a small, weak voice.

“…they don’t seem like those sort of people.”

“but what if?”

dan heng had looked at you, his expression tired and soft all at once as he sighed.

“then they’ll have a problem with me too.”

“why?”

“because,” he brushed his fingers over your gaunt cheekbones, worn from all that you’d been through. “i’m just like you. if something took you from my side, then i might as very well be useless to them.” )

there’s a known truth between the two of you, one that you never speak of; but you both know that it’s a fact. if you hadn’t been involved with dan heng — with him — you’d still be at home in the xianzhou alliance. you’d be blissfully oblivious to the convict on the loose, the exile who has returned home. you’d be living your life— a normal life.

but you aren't.

instead, you dream of him.

it should be impossible. bracers are not meant to be shared between a trio, and whatever gift you had been planning to share between the three of you was lost upon the exile. and yet, even without the ancient magic of the vidyadhara, he somehow manages to make his way into your dreams, haunting you like a ghost.

some nights, you dream of those arms that had always held you with such certainty, an impenetrable shield even when bloodied and battered. other nights, you dream of those hands driving a blade through dan heng’s heart, squeezing your throat until you take your last breath through a broken windpipe.

and every night, when you wake up from those dreams in dan heng’s arms, you feel that pain welling in your chest, settling for days as it finds comfort in its new home, made up of your aching lungs and your shattered heart. the days and nights blur together like this— haunted by a man still living and breathing, though not quite human, in the nighttime, and traversing through the worlds like a ghost searching for meaning in the daytime.

you don’t remember how it ended up like this. or do you? it all feels like a dream, all the details and images blurring together to be forgotten by morning. but it isn’t morning, and you can’t wake up from this reality. your head throbs. a concussion? who cares.

you can’t afford to let your guard down on this ship you once called home. you’re here for a reason, and though that reason is your top priority, you can’t afford to be caught either. the cloud knight that found you and dan heng — sushang — doesn’t seem to recognise either of you, and neither does the strange tradesman luocha, but you still can’t take any chances. panic blossoms in your gut, unsettling as you grip your weapon in your weak hands.

ah. that’s right. you’re fighting. reason grounds you with the fuzzy memory of your enemy standing before you— an ambush, because whatever forces are at work here clearly play just as dirty as the antimatter legion and that damned aeon they serve.

a fight you can’t lose, no matter how badly your head is throbbing right now, because you still have to find the others, have to save them from— from—

“ren,” your grip on your weapon loosens as the dust clears, revealing the man standing before you.

the enemy, your brain screams, though it can’t even make you move away. the word that slips through your lips is familiar, and yet not. your head hurts thinking of calling him by his true name, the name you called him before he turned into this.

blade, is what kafka called him.

ren, is what it means in your mother tongue, the language spoken in moonlit nights as the three of you sat under the stars, the silence broken only by a whisper of their names.

the name comes out as a quiet, pathetic croak, staring wide eyed at his figure. he’s frozen just as you are, his broken blade aimed straight at you with an arm that wavers just the slightest.

it’s like a domino effect; your walls crashing down the moment you see his mask slip for the smallest moment.

“yingxing!” your voice breaks as you call out to him again, almost desperately (it does not occur to you that you've let your memory slip, called out for a man long dead). your feet are moving from under you before you even realise it.

blade lunges forward, his sword drawn.

a desperate cry of your name wretches itself out of dan heng’s throat in a way that makes your heart ache, but it’s too late now. his warning comes only seconds after you’ve begun to run straight to danger, death, a threat to your life seemingly unseen to you as you surge forward like a blind lover, but you can see him.

the sharp angles of his face, the familiar bracer on his calloused hand, the searing heat of his vermilion eyes. he’s so close— close enough to kiss, close enough to kill, close enough to be reality rather than an illusion forged by a dream.

his blade is not what meets you. instead, it’s his hand. dan heng’s panicked screams is barely audible over your hammering heartbeat, your pulse quickening as blade’s calloused fingers wrap around your throat. he’s stronger than you — you would know even if he hasn’t been haunting your dreams all those years — and so he can easily snap you in half the second you’re in his clutches.

but then you’re pressed against him, back to his front. blade pulls you as close to him as humanly possible until you’re both flush, sharing the same, saccharine oxygen after years of breathing stale air through stone lungs. despite the sharp end of a sword held over your throat, you allow yourself to close your eyes, reveling in this single moment as if you’ve lived an eternity where the three of you had never once hurt each other. though he had an eternity without a single regard to how you’d hurt each other. in these stolen moments, you let yourself be stupid, oblivious, selfish, just to breathe properly for the first time in what feels like a millennium.

“let them go,” dan heng hisses, breaking you out of your reverie.

“no,” blade’s eyes narrow. there is no mocking in his expression, no sardonic smirk or cruel taunts. his walls are still up, none of that broken emotion that you’d only seen for a split moment when your eyes first met, but he lets himself drop the bravado. between the three of you, there is no such thing.

you whisper a soft cry of his name, making dan heng’s grip tighten on cloudpiercer as he moves to snatch you out of blade’s grip, but your former lover only growls.

“come any closer, and i’ll cut them.”

his voice is scratchy, worn like the calloused hands that are wrapped around your nape, squeezing almost painfully. a distant memory flashes in your mind, of these same calloused palms washing your back after a long day, cleaning the blood and grime.

these same hands could be stained with your blood, if he so wishes.

“you won’t,” dan heng hisses, and you hear something in him break like glass shattering on the floor. “you can’t.”

he sounds so sure of it, that this man will not slice that blade over your throat and take your life just as he had taken dan heng’s in so many eternities.

you’re reminded of the fact that no matter how many times the hourglass has turned over for dan heng, no matter how muddled his memories become, he once loved this man just as you did— once relished in his presence and touch as it lulled him back to sanity, masking the weight of all the sins the three of you had committed over the lifetimes your strings of fate had been entangled.

blade moves as if to cut your throat, to finally take the first life, the first step in the nth round of this cycle of violence, but his sword only manages to press down just the slightest against the skin of your neck before he stops himself. his hand — the one adorned by that damned bracer — shakes as he glares at dan heng with a look that can kill.

“fuck,” blade mutters under his breath. the word is not meant for you, but you hear anyway. blade pulls back from you roughly, and a barely audible whimper tears out of your throat when he suddenly pushes you forward and into dan heng’s arms.

dan heng’s eyes widen, clearly just as surprised as you when blade relinquishes his hold on you. he catches you with unsteady arms, trying to keep cloudpiercer levelled at blade as if the man will suddenly lunge forward and take him from you again.

blade stares at the two of you for a moment, watching as dan heng clutches you to his chest like you’ll disappear if he let go, as you hold a palm to your neck where the thinnest line of red bleeds through. his eyes narrow, and the only other indication of emotion in his face is the slightest downturn of his lips.

“i’ll be back,” blade says, and then there’s that cruel smile on his face again, a taunting glint in his eye as he looks at dan heng. “i’ve stolen your little eternity countless times before. what’s one more to the tally?”

dan heng growls, his grip tightening on cloudpiercer, “you damned—!”

but then blade’s already making his exit, leaping off the platform in a manner that gives you deja vu.

( a memory flashes in your mind, the image of him jumping off your balcony as jing yuan knocked on your bedroom door to make sure you were still asleep while dan feng dove under your bed for cover, a mundane moment of peace and carefreeness almost forgotten from where you had pushed it deep into crevices of your mind. )

i’ve stolen your little eternity countless times before. what’s one more to the tally?

after a breathless moment that seems to drag out for an eternity, dan heng’s arms finally uncurl from your frame, his eyes tracing your figure to make sure you’re unharmed. his eyes drag over the thin cut across your neck in an adagio, his breath hitching as he sees you bleeding the same colour of blade’s eyes.

“he didn’t kill me,” you breathe out. you don’t know why it’s only settling now. the relief is clear in your tone, but it’s obvious from the violent tremor of your hands that it’s only to mask your own uncertainty. "he didn't kill me."

dan heng is quiet. you’re too scared to look at him, at the expression on his face. you just stare at your shaking hands, and watch as he rests his palm over your own to soothe the tremors.

“he always had a soft spot for you,” dan heng whispers, something breaking in the tenor of his voice.

© trappolia 2024

[cosmicsuperstars]

spending time,

BLADE is...

slightly awkward, at the heart of it. logically, he knows what a date is and how it works. it's just...been a while.

to him, time is well-spent if spent in your company. that's all.

the two of you could curl up together on the couch, your head tucked under his arm while you read a book and he does...something; a time when he can breathe and bask in your presence.

of course, if there's somewhere you want to go, he's not opposed.

one good thing about having BLADE for a partner is that he's tall and he looks like he's perpetually going through his emo stage, so crowds part for him like he's moses.

he's not overly interested in material objects — but he likes seeing how your face lights up when you spot something you like.

the stellaron hunters are, by no means, broke so expect him to try and buy you a few things. of course, if you try to refuse on the grounds of not wanting him to spend money, he'll simply say that if money is a problem, i can always steal something.

and you can never tell if he's joking or not.

for JING YUAN, the only time he will ever take a break while working is if you tell him you want to go out somewhere.

those who work at the seat of divine foresight herald you as a saviour, a god amongst mortals, for being one of the few people who can get the general to disregard working.

he loves to go on walks with you.

just enjoying the luofu's atmosphere, seeing the way the light shines against your hair and the gingko leaves flutter against your face — it feels like a blessing.

he slips his hand into yours while you traverse those well-worn paths, his thumb rubbing at your pulse point.

as the long-lived general, he's definitely racked up a lot of money over the years. so, as a consequence, expect him to pull out his wallet for every. single. thing your eyes land on. it could only be a rapid, one-second flutter, and then — JING YUAN is suddenly conversing with the smiling shopkeep.

sometimes, he likes to nap with you.

the two of you, curled up together; he runs warm, like a personal furnace. his arms wrap around your waist and he nuzzles into the junction of your shoulder and neck, sleepily mouthing words there.

i love you.

LUOCHA's idea of spending time is somewhat unorthodox.

he enjoys listening to you talk about your day: whether you're just complaining about how utterly exhausting it was, or excitedly telling him about this adorable dog you saw, it doesn't matter.

just hearing your voice, memorising the shift in cadence and the lilts that signify your different expressions is enough for him.

if you're particularly bored, he'll drag you out for some window-shopping. LUOCHA is very particular about gifts — he's not one for excessive splurging on multiple trinkets, but he's more than willing to buy something expensive that suits you.

perhaps, an ornament to adorn your hair? a signed copy of your favourite book? or even, some jewellery that matches with his?

he's also rather fond of times when you two just...stay at home.

whether you're watching movies together, or working on different projects in the same room, or even playing some video games — it's all something that warms him to his core, if only because you are there with him.

it helps that he can kiss you without interruption, too.

💬 DIRECTOR'S CUT: the luofu guys! very silly. they are all so interesting. on another note, jy continues to be my number one blorbo. please enjoy!

[eunseoksimp]

Infatuation ; Park Wonbin

Pairings: Cheater!Wonbin x Devoted!Reader

Genre: angst, infidelity

Description: an exploration of secrecy, infidelity, and the complex emotions that arise from these actions. a woman who is in a painful relationship with a man who she loves, but is seen as nothing more than the object of his desires. an unfortunate tale of a woman making a God out of a mortal.

Warnings: mentions of sex, swear words, illusion to mental health issues (depression, bpd), mentions of religious ideas, obsession, manipulation, gaslighting, cheating.

loosely inspired by sad girl by lana del rey, i had this song on repeat while writing this.

‘he’s never going to love you like you want him to.’

you were often told this; after all what good came from being the mistress in another persons relationship.

but this didn’t bother you at all, they didn’t understand wonbin like you did. people always said you would never be anything to him but his little side chick, like a trophy.

he was essentially clyde and you were his bad bitch partner in crime, bonnie. only, the love between you two wasn’t as passionate, at least not on wonbin’s side.

it was hard to see at first that park wonbin would never truly be yours, that he would never love you the way that you hope he will.

but that didn’t bother you, because being his mistress was better to you than being nothing at all. you weren’t sure it was even possible to live in a world without wonbin anymore.

you were stubborn, calling everyone that criticised you natural haters, that they just weren’t as open minded to the complexities of relationships as you were.

they couldn’t see the way wonbin would spoil you rotten, your house filled with gifts that he got you. they didn’t see the expensive dates he took you on, or the bunch of flowers sitting on your windowsill that he always made sure to refresh.

if they caught the attention of park wonbin, they would understand you.

a man so hauntingly alluring, blessed with the beauty from deities above, with a face that wars were surely started over. comparable only to adonis, stealing the hearts of many that he encountered.

meeting him was like a dream, one that you did not want to wake up from. his long hair framed his facial features, dark clothes creating a contrast to his fair skin.

something ignited inside of you, a desire so strong that you were sure it was fate that he had walked into your life. after all you had endured, you were finally being rewarded, finally seeing the end of the tunnel.

all the hardships you had been through in your life became minuscule compared to the joy that wonbin brought.

he was different, always making sure you got home safely, draping his jacket over your legs whenever you wore a skirt that was a tad bit too short.

whenever you were struck with sorrow, he was someone you could find solace in, melting into his embrace as you breathed in his aroma.

park wonbin was your saviour. your reason to live, the reason why you believed that love maybe did exist after all.

he was the first male figure in your life to leave a positive impact, the first one who didn’t use or abuse you, and you were sure it was divine intervention.

the love you felt for him was intense, all consuming and powerful, like nothing could make it waver. your love for park wonbin would definitely stand the test of time.

he had to feel the same way about you. the deities were not cruel enough to give you someone so perfect without knowing if he loved you back.

that’s why you never felt the need to question things. you didn’t need to, it would be silly to question the intentions of the gods.

you instead spent your time enjoying wonbin in his entirety. every kiss, every embrace, it became the catalyst to the blood pumping around your whole body.

the opinions of others were irrelevant, after all what could they know? would they ever be able to experience a love as perfect as yours.

‘i’m dating ningning,’ he told you one night, head in his hands as he watched you busy yourself at the stove.

you froze in your spot for a second, wooden spoon still in hand as you turn to face him. surely it wasn’t true?

‘dating? with ning ning? what do you mean by this?’ you question him, closing the gap between you two, reaching up to play with his dark locks.

‘she’s my mothers family friend, they’ve been pestering me for so long about us being together and i just got tired of hearing it,’ his voice trails off at the end, leaning into your touch as he sighs.

‘do you love her?’ you ask as your fingers work their way through his hair, enjoying the way he leans against you.

‘of course not, don’t be silly,’ it provided you with enough comfort, to know that they didn’t have anything nearly as strong as the both of you.

‘then that’s good enough for me.’

so despite the objections from your friends, you continued to stay with wonbin, not paying much mind to the other girl; she wasn’t important.

he made sure that when it was only the two of you, nothing or no one would come in between it. and at the time it was enough to keep you content.

but slowly over the months, a part of you started to feel restless.

your meetings went from as frequently as three to four times a week to only once if you were lucky. like an addict you were suffering from withdrawals, and you weren’t sure how long you could wean off of the drug that was park wonbin.

‘i’ve been a little busy lately, you understand that right?’ was what he told you the first time you had gathered the courage to tell him

how you felt, twiddling with your thumbs as you looked down at your boots.

‘i know how you feel pretty, let me make it up to you today,’ his hand rest on your thigh, giving it a squeeze and a pat.

it was pathetic really, how a gesture as small as this was enough to absolve any sort of discontent you held against any of his actions. but that was what love was all about.

he would focus his whole attention on you, stopping wherever you wanted to go, taking you to eat at a fancy restaurant, buying you treats.

when he told you that you shouldn’t hold hands you knew it was just because he didn’t want others to know how good your relationship was. they may try to sabotage it.

that was why he didn’t introduce you to his friends ever. what if they tried to take you away from him?

wonbin never did any wrong, whatever he did had a plausible reason, and you had learnt a long time ago not to question things.

‘i’m having a game this weekend, you should come and watch,’ he told you as he parked in front of your house.

‘i would love to binnie,’ maybe he was finally ready to show you off to the world. to give a big middle finger to societal expectations and prove that what the both of you had was special.

he grinned, leaning over the console to give you a kiss, slow and passionate, and you felt your skin burn at the contact.

only he was capable of making you feel this way.

‘take care of yourself love, i’ll see you soon,’ he tells you as you leave the car, not driving away until the moment that you’re inside your house. always the gentleman.

it was an exciting moment in time for you, wonbin was personally inviting you to one of his games. you weren’t secretly watching at the back of the bleachers, he told you that he wanted you there.

the day couldn’t come any quicker, and you spent the remainder of the days thinking of what to wear, how to smell. would he like it if you had your hair up or down? you should dress light so he offers you his jacket at the end of the night.

and when the day finally dawned, you spent ample time in front of your vanity mirror, curling your hair, painting your face to perfection, making sure you looked the best you could. you wanted to look like someone wonbin could be proud of.

he wasn’t able to pick you up seeing as he needed to get to there early to warm up with the team, but he paid for an uber to pick you up, telling you to be vigilant of the persons car you were entering, and to make sure you were keeping him updated on his location.

his kindness knew no limits.

upon arrival, you were greeted with the low hum of chatter, with quite a large crowd beginning to fill the benches, and the sight of the basketball teams warming up on their respective sides of the court.

but like a moth to a flame, you were only drawn to one man, whose long hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, a few of the front pieces falling on his forehead.

you were in awe of him once again, your own physical manifestation of a greek god, and you were unable to quantify the extent to which it had an effect on you. he was like a higher being walking amongst mere mortals.

you take out your phone for the sole purpose of taking pictures, ones that you know you will be staring at later on in your moments of need.

when the game started it was hard to contain the excitement, and you may have left out a few screams of his name, but luckily for you it was drowned out by the loud thuds of the basketball hitting the ground, and the squeaking of the boys’ shoes on the newly polished floors.

then you heard it, someone else other for you cheering with such passion, and you whip around, curious as to who the owner of the voice was.

it’s ning ning. it was the first time seeing her up close, and truthfully, her beauty intimidated you.

she was undoubtedly stunning, her face structured to perfection, an air of elegance surrounding her.

she leans over the railing, cupping her hands around her mouth as she shouts his name again. this time he looks up, eyes scanning for the source of the noise before raising his hand and blowing a kiss.

but he meant for that to be sent towards you right? surely he knew you were not too far away, and it was his secret way of letting you know that he could see you.

it had to be.

after the game you were desperate to see him, to be wrapped in his arms as you gushed about how well he played, about how good he looked while playing.

you wanted to enjoy an evening with him, cuddled up on your couch as you basked in his presence for a little longer.

but to your disappointment ning ning beat you to it, running up to him first and peppering his face with kisses.

you frowned. she should know her place after all. you half expected wonbin to pull away in disgust, but you remembered he had to keep up appearances, so that explained why he held her face in his hands, like he would do to you, and returned the kisses.

the walk towards them was agonisingly slow, the sounds of his teammates and friends teasing and cheering at him were beginning to drown your ears, and all you needed was some reassurance from your lover.

clearing your throat, you stood awkwardly, the bag that he bought you in your grasp. turning towards you, an unreadable emotion flashed across his face before he introduced you.

just by name? no signs of affection, or illusion to the relationship between you two. it was plain, as if there was nothing to tell between you two. but you knew that wasn’t true.

you watched as he laced his fingers together with that girl.

‘we should go out to eat and celebrate the win,’ you think it was shotaro who suggested it, and everyone else nodded in agreement.

for the first time wonbin looks at you, waiting for your answer, and you immediately cave in, talking about how much you would love to.

following after them pathetically, the pattern on your skirt suddenly becoming so interesting, you try to calm yourself down.

he doesn’t love her, he told you this already. but why was she all over him?

at the restaurant it was overbearing. was this a test? was he being overly affectionate just so people wouldn’t suspect anything?

that had to be it. it was the only reasonable explanation for why he was behaving like he was.

so you tried your hardest to push it to the back of your mind, politely listening to his friend sungchan ramble on about something.

you swallowed and continued to swallow the lumps of food on your plate, knowing that wonbin hated when you wasted food.

you shovelled food into your mouth until your plate was clean and your stomach began to churn.

you sat in front of him, the lack of heed towards you making you feel queasy from restlessness, as you rose to your feet, excusing yourself to empty the contents of your stomach in the ladies bathroom.

when you had rose back to your feet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you headed towards the sink, looking at the pitiful girl staring back at you.

wonbin wouldn’t find you attractive like this. taking your time to freshen yourself up, you let your mind focus on good things to calm down.

he still loved you. he wanted you to be here for a reason, so all you had to do was trust him.

‘i’m fine, as long as i’m with him,’ you repeated, until a smile crept onto your face and you deemed yourself ready to go back out.

when you returned, you were met with concerned faces, including wonbin’s and you felt your cheeks warm at the accomplishment.

in fact, his eyes remained on you for the rest of the time in the restaurant and even when he offered to take you home.

he dropped ning ning first and gave her a kiss over the console, like he did with you, and you willed yourself to look away.

when she left he patted the passenger seat and you eagerly climbed over to sit next to you.

‘are you okay my love?’ his voice was soft, tender, as he caressed your face.

you nodded, missing the way he felt after trying your hardest to behave. it would be unfair for you to push your own selfish needs on him, when you knew he was just doing what he needed to.

‘i want you,’ you mumbled, want taking over your being and all you could think about was him. you needed him.

‘i know love, you’ve been so patient today,’ he cooed, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

but it wasn’t enough for you. he wasn’t close enough. you wanted his touch to be engraved in your skin for life, for the part of your body that he touched to serve a constant reminder of the hands that had been there.

‘stay with me tonight. please,’ you pleaded, your thighs crossed over the other, biting your lip. he easily picked up on what you were really suggesting, his larger hand coming to rest on your upper thigh.

‘whatever my princess wants.’

it was a great struggle trying to be patient, one look at the side of his face, the way he looked so concentrated on the road, only needing one hand to spin the steering wheel, was just adding to your arousal.

as soon as he put the car in park, you were scrambling out of your seat, eager to be inside and feel all of him.

it was urgent, rushed, the way you both couldn’t wait to get back to the bedroom, flinging articles of clothing along the way as he kissed you.

he made love to you, prioritising your own needs over his own, telling you that you deserved it for being so patient today, for putting up with him.

he made you cum again and again, addicted to the noises you made, or how you clung onto him so hopelessly, like there was nothing else you could do.

you become obsessed with how he coaxes you through every orgasm, telling you how he needed more from you. not her, but you.

‘wonbin,’ you pant, voice barely over a whisper. he hovers over you, taking in the way your eyelashes are wet from tears, streaming down your cheeks.

he hums, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he dips his head down to place kisses on your neck, loving the way you squirm underneath him.

‘one more for me baby, i know you can do it.’

i-i i don’t think. fuck i don’t think i can,’ you gasp, your voice getting higher with each thrust, hands gripping your waist and your own hands shoot down his arm, fingers wrapping around his wrist to slow the momentum.

‘yes you can love, i know you can do it,’ he snakes one of his arms around your waist, shifting your position.

‘you’re my good girl.’

that’s why you allow him, even when you start to lose feeling in your legs, or even when your eyes begin to unfocus, unaware of your surroundings as your jaw slacks and your toe starts to cramp.

in a haze, you can hear the muffled sounds of wonbin saying something in the background, but nothing is registering as he continues to pound into you.

it’s all becoming too much, pleasure flooding your senses as you reach out for something to hold.

your eyes land on the star necklace around wonbin’s neck, conveniently swinging above you, almost hypnotising as it moves with each harsh thrust.

a raw moan rips through your throat, one that is so animalistic that you’re almost unsure of how such a noise could leave your lips.

pulling him closer by the cool metal, your finger twirls the chain once, and then twice, closing it in your fist.

you barely have enough strength to close the gap between you, high pitched noises leaving your mouth as you kiss him ferverently.

your body is hot to the touch, hair sticking to your forehead and your neck from all the sweat.

wonbin presses you further into the mattress, showing no signs of slowing down as you pathetically claw at his lower stomach, trying to push away from him.

‘i know angel, i know. feels good doesn’t it?’

you’re unable to answer, nodding dumbly.

he pins your hands to your side, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips, before lifting your thighs up until your ankles almost touched your ears.

your body began to shake, thrashing as you struggle to breathe.

‘you’re so pretty baby, so fucking pretty. all for me, you’re such a good girl,’ he praises you, and it makes you feel like everything is worth it.

‘i’m- i’m your pretty girl,’ you struggle to get the words out, letting out a soft moan as you feel one of his hands cup your face.

‘yes you are,’ his voice is so gentle, tears welling up in your eyes but you wipe them away so that they don’t take away from the sight of wonbin on top of you.

‘good girl, you’re about to cum aren’t you. i knew you had one more for me,’ his hand snakes down to your clit, rubbing steady circles with his thumb, and it takes everything within you to push away from him again.

‘fuck- i- i’m-‘ but you couldn’t finish your sentence, back arching as you let out a few broken moans, rocking against him as he fucks you through yet another orgasm.

it was so intense, your body going limp and your mind spinning as every thought floating around in your head disappears. you can see wonbin’s mouth moving, but nothing is registering.

‘i’m right here angel, there you go. breathe a little for me, just like that,’ he brings you back down to earth, gently tapping your face until you look up at him again.

you did so well, my angel. so perfect for me,” he says, kissing the top of your head and you whimper softly, feeling his praise and love surround you, sniffling in appreciation.

you lay back as you watch him look after you, cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, making sure you got changed as he puts you to sleep under clean sheets.

you were unconditionally and irrevocably in love with park wonbin. you realised that you could no longer be satisfied with only having a part of him, you needed him wholly.

‘fuck. i love you,’ you mumble, like the pathetic person you are, wrapping your arms around him. wonbin grins and bites your lip before pulling you into a kiss.

he had you right where he wanted.

‘i love you too baby,’ he says, and like a fool you believe his words, unable to face the small voice in your head that tells you he might not mean it like you do.

you thought that day had sealed the deal. that it was confirmation of the escalation of your relationship.

but soon after it felt like you were only being driven further apart from him. calls were ignored, texts were answered far too late and you were barely able to see him.

he would get upset when you brought it up and you didn’t want to provoke him so you left it as it was.

maybe he was just stressed, it must only be a season. he would be back to normal in no time.

but soon it turned into two months, and then three, and there was an immense amount of pain suffered from his absence.

you sobbed till you were unable to breathe through your nose, your throat sore and a headache beginning to form.

you couldn’t function. you couldn’t eat, you were no longer focusing in classes and the thought of him kept you up most nights.

where had your lover gone?

you were unsure whether it was frustration or depression that prompted you, but you called and called, leaving message after message until he finally responded.

‘wonbin,’ you were relieved to see him finally pick up, just needing to hear his voice.

it was silent for a second, before you heard him sigh, ‘hi.’

the smile on your face drops. was he not happy to hear from you too?

‘are you free? can you come and see me,’ you’re afraid you might have disturbed him from something important.

‘i’ll come. see you soon,’ and before you could tell him how much you could love him the call was disconnected.

you found comfort in biting your nails, until the nail beds were raw and red, but none of that was your concern right now.

wonbin was over an hour later, flowers in hand and a smile on his face, and you convinced yourself that maybe everything was alright after all.

you both sat on the couch, watching a movie, but the overwhelming urge to say what was on your mind overpowered your reasoning and you paused what you were watching.

‘it was getting to the best bit, why did you stop it,’ he complained, pointing towards the now frozen frame.

‘i think we need to talk about us, about the direction we’re both going in. it really hurt me not hearing from you wonbin.’

he only scoffs, eyes still facing forward and you feel your heart sink.

‘do you need more flowers or something? what’s got you all emotional?’

‘wonbin can you please just listen to me when i speak, don’t dismiss how i feel,’ you hated the tone he was using to speak to you, almost like he was mocking you.

‘i’m not dismissing how you feel it’s just- it’s just kind of pointless talking about it baby,’ he pats your knee, trying to reach for the remote but you won’t let him have it.

‘why? why is talking about the future of our relationship pointless?’

his eyebrows furrow, eyes narrowing as he looks at you with genuine confusion. as if you were speaking a completely different language to him or something.

‘what relationship?’

you felt your heart shatter, tears flowing down your face rapidly as you blinked, looking at the face of your lover.

‘wonbin..’ your voice trails off, and you’re in disbelief. he doesn’t even realise you’re crying until a drop splashes onto the sleeve of his hoodie.

but instead of the way he would normally reassure you, pulling you into his arms and kissing all of your worries away, he just sighs.

‘there must have been a mistake somewhere down the line. maybe we should go our separate ways,’ he’s quick to rise off of the chair, already making his way through the apartment to get his things.

you feel a lump in your throat, unable to call out to him loud enough, so you shuffle behind him, hoping to catch him before he leaves.

‘i thought this would happen someday, no hard feelings baby,’ wonbin is too nonchalant for your liking. he barely seems fazed, pulling his jacket over his shoulder and stuffing his keys and his wallet into the pocket.

you tug on his sleeve, willing him to look at you so you could make sense of what was going on.

‘i- i don’t get it. is it something i said?’ your voice trembles, barely heard over the hum of the washing machine, and wonbin has to bend down by your hair to catch what you’re saying.

‘oh baby, i thought we were both on the same page. i have a girlfriend, of course me and you are not in a relationship.’

‘then- then what were we?’ your bottom lip finds solace tucked in between your teeth, chest rising and falling as you try not to heave in front of him.

‘i don’t know, do we really need to have labels in this day and age. but wasn’t it obvious that there was no possibility of us being together,’ word after word, minute after minute, your heart continues to thud in your chest, threatening to break through the enclosures of your pericardium.

had everything been a lie? the gifts, the dates, the kisses, they had to have meant something? how could he dismiss what you had so easily?

‘i’m not a cheater baby girl, how could i have two girlfriends,’ his thumb swipes over your damp cheeks, patting your face with his palm before he retreats.

‘i thought we loved each other?’ you whispered, placing your hand on top of his, pulling him closer just so could feel something again, anything to distract you from the mind numbing agony that was settling in.

‘i don’t. it’s not possible to love two people at once.’

it takes a few seconds for his sentence to register in your head, too focused on the thumping in your head and the ringing in your ears.

he loved her, not you. she was always his number one, not you. the one he really wanted to be with, the one his heart belonged to, was her.

was it because you were broken? were the cracks in your past beginning to show?

baby i don’t get it, what changed? when did you stop loving me?’

‘love? i never loved you.’

‘liar. are you telling me what we had between us was nothing. you must have felt it too, that what we had was special.’

‘what was special about what we had between us? it was nice of course, but it can never be more than that.’

‘what about me?’ your voice is broken, akin to the way your heart feels, clutching at your chest, looking for any sort of relief.

he opens his mouth to respond, but his phone rings and you see her name pop up on his phone, bile quickly rising to your throat.

you watch him answer with a smile, speaking to her with a sweet tone as he tells her he’s on the way, that he’s missed her and can’t wait to be with her.

it had to be a dream. he was yours. your man. your wonbin.

the sense of possessiveness and desire for exclusivity overtook you, but it harshly contrasted with the reality of your lover, eager to be in the arms of another.

the flowers, the gifts, all of the material things would be unable to fill the void caused by him, only leading to deeper feelings of sadness.

‘i have to go, i guess i’ll see you around,’ he barely spares a glance in your direction as he’s out of the door, leaving you all alone.

you can physically feel the pain, with sharp pains in your chest, as if your heart was personally trying to claw its way out, and you drop to your knees.

why were you being punished? it was cruel, the way the ones from above watched down over you, possibly rejoicing over your misery.

how much they must have laughed when you chalked everything up to love. it left a bitter taste in your mouth and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

perhaps this was your fate from the beginning, that the words that man said to you that day becoming prophecy.

‘you’ll never be loved.’

you felt an internal struggle, trying to face these conflicting emotions, which were starting to have a profound impact on your mental state.

the pain and emotional turmoil was juxtaposed to the devotion you felt towards him. despite the pain he had just caused you, the deep affection that had manifested over the year of your meeting was something that you felt was engraved on your heart.

it showed the complexities of human attraction, the internal struggle between what was logical and what the heart desired. you could never leave park wonbin.

that navigating the difficulties of loving someone who never seemed to be yours to begin with was something you would have to do.

you felt your existence being reduced to an accessory to him, someone who was easily replaceable, who had less of a value than you initially thought.

you would always be the girl on the side to him, a sad girl. after all, you were not his.

and some deep, twisted part of you didn’t mind, as long as you got to spend an extra night with him in your arms.

[moncharrow]

hii!! i saw you were taking requests so can u write an knight!ellie x princess!reader period piece?

it was never meant to be

a/n: thank you for the cool request! i don't know how i feel about this- never wrote for this time period before. it was a fun learning curve!! i hope you enjoy it. requests are open <3 please. please. tell me. smut or fluff or angst idc

-content/warnings: 1.8k words, fem!princess!reader x knight!ellie, arranged marriage/political marriage, mentions of reader having to marry a man, slight angst? happy ending though, feminine reader i suppose

You were a goddess amongst mortals, treading the Earth lightly and gracing the barren ground with flowering spring beauty. There was an elegance to your touch. Anyone blessed enough to know you were changed for the better, your kindness and charity caressing their soul like hundreds of dandelion wisps in the wind. Heads turned when you walked down the pathways, villagers hoping to get a glimpse of their beloved princess, to catch her stray gaze as she passed. You were the kind of person who would never be subject to malice; even if someone wished they could despise you, the love behind your eyes would soothe their violent minds. Your soul seemed to be sculpted by the hand of a creator who endowed you with pure goodness.

Ellie’s skin was etched with years' worth of hardship, mental fortitude carved into her perpetually crinkled brow. Dirt caked her bloodstream, poisoning her soul as it moved through her heart. Behind her eyes was no mercy, no forgiveness, only seeking vengeance on some imaginary being that had seen no value in her from the moment of creation. It seems the same deity that sculpted you had been corrupted as it created her, molding her heart of ashes and skin of rotten wood. She was a decades-old shattered, rusty sword thrown into a river. No value. No hope. Only a broken promise of a better future that had been forgotten.

​​But your merciful, generous sight had befallen her by some stroke of luck. You recognized something good within her and gave her the chance she'd always dreamt about. You sponsored her induction into knight training, looking past her fiery faults and into the essence of her spirit, finding a spark of virtue. You tended to it until the ember became a blaze, and Ellie Williams became a force to be reckoned with. Despite the whispers of naysayers around the castle, there was something honorable and just inside her. There would never be enough words in the English language for Ellie to express her gratefulness to you properly. Even if there were, she couldn't string them together- she was never skilled with words. Instead, her every step carried a purpose: to echo your goodness through her actions.

Every so often, she'd find a quiet moment and reminisce upon the years of hardship she'd endured in training. Initially, she'd been one of the weakest pupils, lanky and malnourished but with a lust for improvement. She would cry herself to sleep the first year, and every night, she'd sneak out to see the dear princess, who would hold her and assure her that she belonged. It took time, but Ellie began to believe her. She sought comfort from you night after night, conversation topics turning personal after Ellie’s mental health had begun to improve. You’d talk about nothing and everything: silly hypotheticals, stories of growing up. The juxtaposition between your upbringing and hers was comical, but you both found comfort in learning about each others’ lives. 

When Ellie was with you, she felt like her social status didn’t matter. She was just a girl, and you were just the girl she was in love with. The class difference didn’t matter and neither did the impossibility of being together. Just two girls in love, neither with the courage to admit it. 

The lingering touches turn into shy smiles as Ellie sits in your room. Ornate tapestries adorn the walls and silk kerchiefs cast you in warm golden light- you look like a sun goddess in a long linen dress, your well-manicured hand coming to rest on Ellie’s knee as you laugh at something she said. Her rude humor was a welcome change to the sterility of castle life. You grew tired of the roles forced upon you by your authoritative parents and court, and vastly preferred Ellie’s brash personality. Your parents would have a collective aneurysm if they knew you were mingling with the ‘peasant knight’ (their words, obviously), so the two of you were reduced to sneaking around. 

Ellie’s smile dropped a bit as she felt your touch through her trousers. Her head felt dizzy and she attempted to compose herself, finding it hard to focus when your touch was so delicate and warm. Your call of her name was like a siren song, impossible to ignore its dulcet velvety tones. “Ellie?”

“Yes, Princess?”

You scoff. “Stop with the title. You know I hate it.”

Ellie smiles. A selfish thought crosses her mind- she wishes you were born normal, born in the village like her instead of in an ivory tower. Maybe then, things could have worked out. “That’s why I use it.” You laugh again, and she feels her stomach turn. Why couldn’t you be like me?

-

A week later, Ellie’s thoughts are the opposite. You sit in the throne room, grandiose decor embellishing the great chamber. Lavish royal purple flags and bright maroon banners drop and fold along the walls. Opulent chandeliers of pure wrought iron hang from the ceiling, supporting crystal fixtures through which valuable beeswax candles bathe the room in light. Stained glass rose windows and fleur de lys seem to further isolate Ellie, who stands guard by your throne. Invasive thoughts plague her as she keeps her professional face. I don’t belong here. I never have. I wish I was like you- then I could take you away from here. The thoughts are heightened when she sees the reason the entire town is gathered under the concave.

Four suitors from across the land vie for your hand in marriage. Ellie bites her tongue, her taste buds flooding with a familiar metallic sting. 

They don’t really want you, not like I do. All they want is power. They don’t treasure your time or your kindness. You deserve more. 

She clutches her spear, posture erect, seeming the quintessential knight. Only you noticed how her hand shook with nerves, how she seemed to hold onto the weapon as if letting go would kill her.

Each suitor takes time to introduce themselves. They focus on their own qualities, never talking about why they would be honored to be with you. And they would be. You sit on your throne, deep purple taffeta draping your body elegantly as you cross your legs. Aphroditic, a Hellenistic Roman statue come alive. Romantic, expressive, nymphlike in every way. If you were Euydice, Ellie thinks she must’ve been Orpheus. The anticipation of witnessing you choose your husband (and thus leaving her) was beginning to affect Ellie physically. Her heart felt like it would die in her chest: she swore she felt an arrhythmia. 

First, the suitor from the East describes what he would gift you if wed. As if you would be swayed by material possessions. The suitor from the South notes his conquests. The changes in your expression are minute, but Ellie knows the look. You’re entirely disgusted, and she clears her throat to catch your attention. You look over, the unimpressed look still donning your face, but your eyes light up when you see her. Ellie smiles- a silent reminder: I’m still here for you. It’s like you’re the only two people in the room.

The Western suitor wears his pants inside out, and your eyes immediately meet Ellie’s. You cover your mouth with your hand, appearing classy while chuckling and snorting behind your cover. 

The Northern suitor is handsome and decent, Ellie reluctantly admits. She’s not blind. She hates that she doesn’t hate him. He expresses interest in you and vows to give you autonomy. It’s basic, but more than the others offered. She tries to read your expression and for once, she can’t. It makes her heart drop. 

After every suitor is introduced, you and your court go into the back room to discuss your final decision. The decision that, whomever you choose, will ruin Ellie. She stands guard before the door, straining her hearing to find some clue that you won’t marry these men. She begs silently to whatever immortal being watches over her. 

You haven’t done much for me. I haven’t asked for much. But I’ll do anything to stop this. Please. 

A knock at the door signals Ellie to move away. She takes your hand and leads you back to the throne. You sit, and Ellie has to will herself to let go of you. What if this is the last time she’ll be able to hold you? The thought nearly brings her to her knees. Her joints ache with every step she takes away from you, returning to her post in front of the chancel. Your father stands, his creaking bones the only sound in the room. Everyone holds their breath as he speaks.

It’s detached apolitical jargon that Ellie can barely pay attention to. She thinks that if she doesn’t listen, the situation won’t become real. To her dismay, your father ends his aloof speech and presents you. Sir Williams has never felt so sober.

Ellie watches with wide eyes as you stand. She peers up at you from below the stage, and she can’t help but realize what a perfect metaphor this is. You stand above her, gilded and unobtainable, while she looks up, dreaming of what could’ve been. Of course, she’ll support any decision you make, but she’ll never be happy with it. It seems time moves gruelingly slowly as she awaits your voice. At any other moment, she’d be hanging off your every word, waiting excitedly for what you have to share next. But now, she hopes the words never come.

You open your mouth, words leaving in slow motion. She wants to close your mouth to shut you up and kiss you so hard that you never think about anyone else again. She doesn’t.

“Dearest suitors, I thank you for coming here today. Your travels are long and treacherous and your efforts do not go unnoticed. As noted by my father, I have come to a decision regarding my spouse. I am firm in my choice, as this is the most chivalrous, goodhearted, and impressive person I have met. The only person who understands me.”

Ellie is used to you switching from your formal persona to your true self, but she never gets over it. It’s you, but it’s not you. You stroll along the chancel, in thought, and Ellie takes the chance to admire everything about you as if this is the last time she’ll be able to. Posture, gait, the way you hold yourself as if you’re sure about every action. She doesn’t know you’re terrified beyond belief.

Your finger comes out to point to a suitor. The great hall inhabitants draw a collective breath, Ellie included. You drag your finger from the right side of the stage, passing over the suitors of the East, South, and West. Ellie knows where this is going. Of course, you’ll choose North. He was the obvious choice, and she couldn’t fault you for that. And suddenly, your finger passes by him.

Ellie’s mind races. What’s happening?

Your body turns, and soon, Ellie stares down your hand, furrowing her brow. Her eyes are filled with childlike hope.

“Ellie Williams, if you’ll have me?”

[fanficshiddles]

Silly Traditions, One Shot

Summary: Loki thinks Christmas is ridiculous and a waste of time. Until you surprise him with a gift, then he finds that perhaps it's not all that bad after all.

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you all have a wonderful time. x

-

Loki rolled his eyes from the corner of the room as the Avengers team all began sharing presents between one another. Minus Thor, who had gone back to Asgard for a few days without Loki, as he was in exile so couldn’t return to Asgard yet.

Loki thought that Thor likely would have been the only one to gift him something on this tedious mortal holiday, since he always tried to include him. The team didn’t trust him yet, and he couldn’t really blame them after what he did in New York. Though he was trying, but his mischievous streak kept peeking out, which didn’t help matters much. Even if he meant no harm really, he just enjoyed mischief too much.

While he was beginning to adjust to living in the compound, he hadn’t really warmed up to any of the team yet. Although there was one person he found himself often leaning towards, that he had a soft spot for, who didn’t cringe or seem to be irritated by his mere presence… You.

You’d been living with the team for about a year, so knew them all pretty well by now. Of course, what Loki did was bad, and at first you had been a bit scared of him when he first arrived four months ago as punishment from Odin, to make amends. Though as time went on, you found yourself laughing along at his mischievous antics, you even managed to get some decent conversation out of him. You were the only one, aside from Thor, that included him wherever possible.

What had helped him get into your good books rather quickly was when your cat, Mittens, was stuck up a tree just a few weeks after he’d arrived, you were frantic with worry but the rest of the team were more dog people and said that the cat would get down on her own. You knew your cat though, she was well and truly stuck and she was too high up for you to reach her. Loki had been the only one that helped, he levitated up and carefully brought your precious darling back down into your arms.

You’d been so grateful for that, and Mittens took a shine to Loki straight away too. You often found Loki sitting in the library with Mittens on his lap while he read a book, though you’d made sure to stay hidden as your heart melted at the sight.

Loki couldn’t deal with watching more of the sight of people gushing over such stupid gifts, so he made his way towards the door to go elsewhere. Though he stopped in his tracks when he heard footsteps rushing towards him and he heard you call out his name.

‘Loki!’

He turned slowly towards you, noticing your cheeks were a little flushed as you shifted nervously on front of him.

‘Merry Christmas, Loki.’ You said as you held up a present towards him.

Loki raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘You got me a gift?’ He couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice, though he really wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

‘Of course. It’s from me and Mittens.’ You smiled brightly up at him.

For the first time in a long time, he felt his heart melt a little at the fact someone else had thought about him in such a way, perhaps not all mortals were so bad after all... Though as he began peeling open the wrapping paper, he shook the thought from his head, it would no doubt be something stupid and meaningless, something that would just get re-gifted or left in the bottom of the cupboard somewhere…

He completely regretted thinking what he did when the present was revealed to him, becoming utterly speechless for once in his life.

‘I… can’t believe you got this for me.’ He gasped out as he lifted up the beautiful personalised dagger. It had an emerald handle with his name carved into it.

‘Do you like it?’ You asked, uncertain, because he was quite difficult to read, though he did seem surprised you weren’t sure if it was a good surprise or a bad one.

‘I love it. I can’t thank you enough.’ He then had a genuine smile, one of the most genuine smiles on him you’d seen.

‘I’m so glad you like it… Though I have to admit, I did get some help from Thor. I don’t really know you that well, but wanted to make sure I got you something that you’d actually use or like. Not something that would just be shoved in a drawer and forgotten somewhere.’ You admitted, still blushing a little.

Loki tilted his head slightly and let out a small chuckle, he was incredibly warmed at the gift and didn’t really know how to react.

‘It is not often that someone can make me so speechless. I am really grateful for this gift, thank you. Truly.’ He picked up your hand and kissed the back of it, making your blush worsen as you felt your skin tingling from his lips.

You were called back by the others, but not before asking Loki a question. ‘Are you joining the Christmas party tonight?’

Loki scrunched his nose up a little. ‘I wasn’t planning to.’

‘Oh, ok…’ You tried not to sound too disappointed, you knew he wasn’t overly fond of things like that.

‘Although… I regret that I do not have a gift for you in return. So, if my presence would make up for that, and perhaps a dance, then I will consider joining?’ Loki asked with a charming smile, his heart quickened slightly at the way your face lit up entirely from his words.

‘It certainly would make up for it.’ You smirked at him.

Loki found himself grinning right back at you. What on earth was coming over him? He mentally face-palmed himself as he retreated from the room.

He found he was a little obsessed with his gift from you. It was perfect for him, and with the personal touch… he just couldn’t believe it.

-

You joined the Christmas party that night, you’d picked out a nice green sequin dress. So looked nice and Christmassy as the lights glistened off all the sequins. As usual for parties, Tony had gone all out. Especially with it being a Christmas party, so there were decorations everywhere. A DJ and plenty of alcohol.

After a few drinks, you felt the disappointment hit you slightly as there was no sign of Loki. You figured he would decide against coming, but you didn’t take it to heart really, as you knew this wasn’t his style. He’d made it clear in the weeks leading up to Christmas that he thought it was a load of rubbish, a pointless holiday with stupid traditions.

Though as you were enjoying your third cocktail, you felt a tingle run down your spine when you heard a smooth, warm voice from behind you call your name. Turning around, you couldn’t hide the big smile that spread across your face as you gazed up at Loki.

He was wearing a black suit with a green and white striped tie. You always thought him handsome, but you found yourself struggling to form any proper thoughts right now.

‘Loki… I’m so glad you decided to come.’ You eventually managed to blurt out under his heated gaze.

‘Is this Christmassy enough, do you think?’ He smirked and motioned to his tie.

‘It’s perfect.’ You giggled a little.

‘I must say, you look beautiful… Especially in that colour.’ He said as he eyed you up and down.

‘Thank you, Loki.’

Your heart was racing just with him being here. You did have a crush on him, and had done for a little while. You thought he would never reciprocate that crush, since he was a God after all. Though you would certainly enjoy whatever you got from tonight when he asked for your hand to dance.

It was a Christmas song that was playing, so it was a fun dance. Loki spun you about and he seemed to actually be enjoying himself. He liked the way you laughed as he twirled you and the way you blushed hard when he slipped his arm around your waist to bring you in close to him.

Even though Loki was the God of mischief and lies, he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t care about you… and if he said he didn’t find you beautiful. He was beginning to think that perhaps you felt something for him, with giving him such a thoughtful gift and the way you kept blushing around him, plus wearing his colours tonight. So he decided it was now or never to try and make a move.

He swiftly danced you towards the side of the room, even though no one was really paying any attention to the two of you anyway. You wondered what he was up to, but didn’t think much of it.

Until, that was, there was a distinct tingle of magic in the air, you could feel it on your skin as goosebumps rose on your arms and neck. Loki had that usual mischievous glint in his eyes whenever he was up to something, he looked up and stopped dancing.

‘Oh my, look what we’ve landed underneath.’ He mocked a gasp.

You looked up and laughed, there was mistletoe hanging right above the two of you. It was surrounded by a very light green haze, Loki’s signature mark.

‘Correct me if I am wrong, but isn’t it tradition for whoever ends up under the mistletoe to… kiss?’ He asked cheekily as he looked back at you with a smirk.

If he thought you were blushing earlier, you certainly were now. Your entire face was on fire as you nodded. ‘It uh… it is.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t want to be the one to break a Christmas tradition… may I?’ Loki asked as he stroked your cheek so softly.

As if you need to ask! You thought as you nodded, a bit over eagerly.

He slid his hand down to your chin, holding you in place as he dipped his head down towards you. You reached up on your tiptoes to meet him halfway as you closed your eyes, when your lips touched you both forgot about everyone else around you, nothing else mattered in that moment but the two of you.

Loki deepened the kiss for a moment, surprising but delighting you. You were on cloud nine.

When you both broke the kiss after a little while, you were glad to see that you weren’t the only one with red cheeks. Loki’s had a hint of red, too.

Loki chuckled and trailed his fingers against your cheek, then he tucked some of your hair behind your ear. ‘Well… perhaps some of your silly mortal traditions aren’t all that bad after all. I especially like this mistletoe tradition.’ He smiled widely at you.

‘Yeah… I think it’s my favourite too.’ You smiled just as widely back at him.

[aaaamsy]

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

Xiao knows he doesn't deserve you.

You've told him before how much you dislike the way he thinks these things; his hands stain all that it touches, not a single life left unscarred by the presence of the vigilant Yaksha. Even straying near the adeptus could leave a mortal kneeling, and not from worship. His hands hurt, covered in blood from both guilty and innocent. He uses them to claw, grip his spear tight in the midst of battle, to reach and grab all he needs to destroy. Xiao does not know how to do much more, how to use them in such a gentle manner the way you do for him. The flowers by his bed tended to with such careful touches in fear he'll ruin the few gifts he's ever received. The nervous way he holds your hand in case you'll notice how desperate he is to keep you, to have you love him. A man like him has no right to have such a bright star stand next to him as if they were the same, as if one doesn't exude destruction and the other represents all that is good in life.

Every touch, all the miscellaneous trinkets, every time you call his name, oh how he savours it all. He kisses you like it's the last time he'll ever have the honour, grip tight and careful, feelings flowing over where his words could never replicate. There was never a world where he ever thought he'd ever have the privilege to love, to be loved, and to have that special person be you, after everything.

The remnants of battle still linger on him and everything he does, there is not a moment of rest when all he knows is to fight, war does not bode well on one's mental state. Yet the Yaksha is one made to hurt, to kill and erase, to cleanse and protect. With nothing but the threat of tomorrow, his days are spent wide awake. His mind is loud, the voices that stain him remind him so at every moment, they never really go away, it's almost like he never left that place. You take his hardened soul and put it to rest, he never knows how you do it but he's always too weak to resist, as if he'd ever pull away from you. A quiet respite in the arms of war, a soft smile when the world bleeds too much, someone to keep him company when all have left.

But that's all he is, a man sent to hurt, he's never known to be anything else.

Yet, soft, untainted hands roam all over the face of a murderer like you were the lucky one, as if the thoughts that have plagued his head for millennia are simply wrong. That everything he was, that he is, is in fact, good enough for this. That he is good enough for you.

It's a silly thought. He isn't one to doubt your word; he would slaughter all the Gods in the sky and below if you'd say the word. But this, how you say such fickle sentiments of his true worth when he knows better. It might be the only thing he'll never believe you for.

In the darkest pits of the moon he wonders when you will be punished as well for staying with someone like him, your deeds will come back to haunt you, you will not stay. It's not something he's ready to face, the thought of the night sky without you by his side. He's grown much too attached, it scares him. Soon enough you will realize the weight of his sins, how his hands represent the lives he's cut short, the pain you will face because of him. And you will leave, you have to. He's thought much about it, in the life of an immortal like him, things like this will become a mere memory soon enough. He won't blame you once you find your answer, if one day you chose to turn your back on the man you swore to stay with he will merely nod, watching as you find a better life for yourself, a better partner who will surely give you more than he ever could. Still, the thought brings the stinging ache to his heart, every time his mind wanders to the point, the uncomfortable notion of wanting to keep you holds him.

Xiao is not a good man. Not in general and definitely not for you. He's cold, indifferent, he hurts. He hurts you more times than he might be aware of it; every time you flinch, all the times you've backed away, the days where you leave and don't come back. He wonders what you see in him, how you've managed to endure this long with him by your side, surely it must be tiring.

But he's selfish, with you at least. He wants to keep you for as long as you allow him, to hold you in the sea of violence for as much as he wants. You bring him light, and like a moth, he would gladly be burned alive if it meant you would shine for him for just a little longer.

You told him once that you loved him, it made his heart stutter like he believed it, like he deserved it. He doesn't doubt your affection, he shelters it, hides it away for only him to find. But it's so difficult to believe, to believe that after years of suffering that this would be one time where he was given his hope, that this would not end up like all the other blessings of his past. His freedom payed with the price of thousands of lives, his friends taken by the Gods they were sworn to keep, and you, Xiao would die if anything were to happen.

No act of kindness nor passage of time will soften him enough to be able to hold you in the way you deserve, yet despite his aloofness, despite his sharp words, you're still here.

During the nights where the stars dim and the voices dig a little deeper, it's you by his side that makes the hurt a little more tolerable. You don't posses any otherworldly power, you don't cure his head from the world he's constantly stuck in, and you don't offer him anything more than your company. But he'd go through a thousand wars if it meant getting to come home to you for one more day, he'd pray to every God in this world dead or alive to keep you by his side, he'd endure all the anguish of the damned if it meant you'll still love him at the end of the day.

Xiao is not a good man, his hands are stained and rough, his heart yearns selfishly for something he can't keep, he's rude and uncaring. Yet for once in his doomed life he wishes to believe. You tell him you love him, and he wants so badly to believe you.

Xiao wants to deserve loving you.

[bloodyinkandquill]

Venomshank x Reader helping to raise Sword

hehehehe, im doing a request for katz-ke ehehhehehe, you don’t know how i screamed at my friend over discord when you liked my art and then how i had to contain my crazed giggles while making myself dinner, anyways into the actual stuff

- You never thought you’d have a kid, you sure as hell didn’t wanna give up year gear and you weren’t so sure on adoption, but now raising a baby with a literal deity, it doesn’t seem so bad

- You had come to meet Venomshank very soon after he took in Sword, you got along well and when you met Sword for the first time you thought he was just the cutest thing, one thing led to another and now you his partner, living with him and helping in the care of his adoptive son

- Sword could be a handful, sometimes, making a mess with his food, being fussy about naps, but it was all worth it to help out the one you loved, every time you took over Sword’s care so he could get some rest he peppered your face with kisses before putting his mask back on, unfortunately due to Venomshank’s godly duties there were times that you had to take care of Sword for a few days by yourself, but whenever he returned he thanked you so profusely and kissed you till you were giggling, he took over taking care of his son letting you get some well needed rest

- He preferred to have his mask off so he could kiss you and little Sword easier but he was afraid of going feral when it was off, you did your best to reassure him but he was still uneasy about having it off for too long, you understood why he was so cautious, one time where it happens without his mask on and he runs the risk of loosing you and his son, so you never asked him to keep it off when he was worried

- As Sword grew older Venomshank definitely took over more of the care of him, preparing him to be his apprentice and mentee, though for the time he was just a small kid with too much energy and one tired mortal parent, you did have to explain a few mortal things to Venomshank, since he is the deity to spend the most time around demons he knows the most about them but there was still a few things you had to educate him on, especially in raising a child

- Even if Sword could be quite the handful sometimes, it was all worth it for the soft moments, your favorite memory of the three of you was Sword babbling on about stuff when he asked you to dance with him, you did the typical dancing with a small child thing where you softly grabbed his hands and rocked up and down, then Venomshank found you two and laughed at the interaction before asking you if you’d like to dance, even with no music you had a sweet and tender time dancing around holding each other close, Sword then bumped in saying he wanted to dance too so you all three held hands in a silly manor bouncing about, it was such a domestic and wholesome moment that you cherished heavily

- As Sword began his training you mainly just took care of his food and hygiene, making the both of them a nice meal to return to after they finished, Sword was still young but old enough to at least begin learning how to wield his blade he was named after, on rare occasion Sword would get injured, maybe a scrape or small cut but you being the more gentle and softer of the two Venomshank would let you handle it cooing quietly at the boy as you cleaned it up telling him he was so brave for it, Venomshank appreciated it greatly, since he didn’t have an amazing grasp on the severity of injuries he worried he’d over react and possibly scare Sword, something he absolutely never wanted to do

- Throughout everything Venomshank had remained as loving and sweet to you as the day you got together, you couldn’t help but feel yourself fall more in love with him as time went on, he was everything you could have asked for, sure Sword was not part of your original plan but you wouldn’t trade any of it for the world

hehehehe hope you enjoyed, again like i’ve stated a million times if anyone reading wants general venomshank x reader hcs let me know i will happily oblige, i love venomshankkkk