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zchlongli · 15 days

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bathtime

|| blade x reader || M || captive reader x necrobiome blade || wc: 5.1k || ao3 || previous + next ->

Even the best bath water will find it difficult to cleanse 'sin'.

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

notes: well hello :3c welcome to part 3 of the architect-verse :3cc been cooking on this one for awhile 🙏 yandere blade is such a guy and scummy manipulative mommy kafka is so fun to write :3ccc thank you for beloved @ofmermaidstories for doing a read through on this one 🥺♥!! enjoy enjoy enjoy 💓

CW: dark content, yandere blade, captive/pet reader, discussions of noncon, references to past noncon on blade while he was underage and as an adult, references to past noncon on reader, use of the word rape, violence/thoughts of violence, past yingxing/dan feng, toxic blade/kafka

It’s normal for Blade to return to the Stellaron Hunters’ main vessel covered in assorted types of gore. Scraps of rent flesh, smears of blood, bile, scales— tendons and sinew wrapped under his forearms, clinging from the pressure of impact light-years away. The smell of it clings to him, still fresh, just barely beginning to rot. He stews in it during his typical return in small, covert starships. He half-suffocates with the stench of death.

This is typical. Blade does not carry any opinion about it. If anything, he welcomes the potential of asphyxiation, though it never comes.

Most routinely, Kafka will greet him as he returns and take him to clean up. Occasionally, when she is indisposed, Silver Wolf will be forced to hose him down in the communal gym shower or Sam will dunk him in the bath by the scruff of his neck. Blade does not... particularly enjoy the latter two options. Though he isn't sure entirely why, and he doesn't tend to dwell on it either.

When Kafka collects him, it is easier, if nothing else. Less fuss, less grimacing over the smell of burgeoning rot and complaining that Blade should do this prior to arriving home. Blade doesn't care about the other Stellaron Hunters’ complaints, not really, but it does make the ordeal longer than it needs to be.

(And maybe, maybe, he does not like being drenched in bone-chilling water and soaked clothing. He hates it.)

Kafka will lead Blade back to her own room, strip him, and give him a warm bath. Frequently, she’ll take off her own clothing and join him. She’ll hold him close, his back to her front. Kafka likes when she is able to cow him into resting against her front, cow him into resting his cheek against her breasts while she scrubs away the worst of the grime.

Never mind that they share the same, red-tinged bathwater.

(Occasionally, things escalate. Touch that volleys between innocent and clinical and sexual. Kafka will stroke down the planes of his body, reach for his cock, and bring him to release. It’s— it's nice. He thinks. He can't tell.)

It's hard to tell anything in the steam of the bath. Though Kafka's presence renders his mara mute, proximity makes it writhe regardless. It is not a soundless beast, though it loses its words. Muddy feelings, rather than anything clear cut. It's a reprieve regardless.

This is why Blade prefers to be cleaned by Kafka.

...

This mission, however, Blade receives a text from Kafka during his return journey that she will be out. Along with Silver Wolf. And that Sam is charging and shouldn't be disturbed.

However—

Kafka:

why don't you see if our little stray is up for a bath, bladie?

There's a thought. One Blade hadn't considered.

(There's a whisper of a refusal in the back of his mind. 'No'. Blade is not sure why. It is quiet but sure of itself.)

Blade:

When will you be back.

Kafka:

tomorrow. don't wait up until then. listen, just ask.

Kafka's mind weaving does not work over text. But it is, regardless, difficult to resist her command. This is habit.

Blade idles outside of your room. He has dripped mess across the vessel and left little piles of flesh and muscle in his wake. The quiet sound of blood splattering against the floor (his, maybe, though his regeneration should be almost complete) makes him aware of this.

It feels uncouth to enter your room like this.

Blade shakes himself off and leaks scarlet droplets against the metal paneling. methodically, he releases the five locks on your door. Each clicks when fully disarmed, and by the time Blade enters, you're already looking up at the door, eyes wide.

You're tucked into bed with a soft blanket over your lap. A tablet (a gift from silver wolf at Kafka's behest. For 'good behavior'. Not connected to any internet, but you've told Blade it helps pass the time.)

The device is promptly forgotten as you push yourself out of bed, "Aeons, Blade, what happened? Are you hurt?"

You approach him with no caution. It's reckless. It's foolish, especially with this much adrenaline tumbling around between his eyes and in his veins. He has the distinct urge to shove you away and into the floor. Compress you until you break and bleed and bleed and break.

Blade does not.

Instead, he lets you flit around him. He lets you draw your own conclusions.

You are not foolish. You know he is dangerous; he knows you know this. It is your... good nature that creases the surely-soft skin between your brows. It's your kindness that has you frazzled, shaking in your hands as you hover over him. Searching for wounds that are mostly healed.

"Blade, I said, are you hurt?" You ask, voice strained, bent at the waist while examining a slice in his pants. A lance had torn his calve wide open. It has already healed.

"I'm fine."

"Sure." You don't sound convinced, frowning. "You look like shit. Am I really supposed to believe that?"

"I have already healed. my injuries are no longer a concern."

"... Really?"

"I am an abomination of Yaoshi. This is my nature."

You already know this, yet you look defeated. Your jaw is tight. "Uh-huh. Alright. Fuck, do you feel alright?"

"I'm fine. I need to be clean."

"... Alright?"

"I need to bathe."

"... I see that... Do you want me to call Kafka?"

"She's off ship."

"Oh, fuck." you curse and shake your head. "I-is she going to be back soon?"

"No. Help me instead."

"M-me?" Your voice trembles and you take a fearful step back. Ever the skittish thing. something in him— sort of him— vibrates.

"Yes."

"Can you— not?"

"It's cumbersome to wash on my own."

"I see." You run a hand over your cheeks and adjust the wide collar of your shirt. It’s too big. It’s one of his— probably? A sleep shirt. One that Kafka stole from him to give to you. He knows you own several. "Alright. Okay. Fine. Fuck, I-I can help."

You shoo him into your bathroom.

You turn away from him almost immediately, poking around in a cabinet, plucking brightly colored products and muttering under your breath. Kafka mentioned that isolation is getting to you more than you think. She thinks it's cute.

Blade wordlessly begins to strip. First off is his blood-soaked overcoat, shredded around his ribs and with massive gouges taken out of the back. Then his undershirt. Followed by his pants. One of his belts rings a metallic clink as he undoes it.

You choose this moment to turn around and your eyes go wide.

"BLADE!" You cover your eyes, dropping a bottle. "What are you— you can't just do that."

"Do what?"

"Get... naked?"

"You are going to help me bathe. This is necessary."

"I understand that." You sound exasperated. Your voice is shaky. The tone is pulling something in the back of his mind. The corners of his lips almost want to curl upwards. "But you can't just strip without warning. Aeons, have some manners."

Blade nearly laughs— good-naturedly. The urge to is something dormant and poisonous. Seldom used. Usually it's a sharp impulse, but it's almost warm now. Tepid and pleasant.

(All for you.)

You cover your eyes as you fumble to turn on the tap, "At least go rinse off a little in the shower first, please?"

Doable, albeit difficult. Blade grunts something akin to an affirmative and finds your shower. He turns the water on (hot or cold doesn't seem... relevant) and steps in. The spray pours down from the ceiling, sending the worst of the gore down the drain.

Blade does not move for quite some time.

"Blade?" you ask warily. "You... done in there?"

It takes him a moment to reply. The cold spray lags him, "Yes."

"... Can you come out? The bath is ready."

He idles, thinking about your question. The softness of your voice. The candle that he can smell, lit on the countertop. You yourself, dressed in soft lounge clothes and covered in scars that strangers gave you. He thinks about the way skin and muscle rend under his blade. The way yours could. Under him. Under—

"Blade."

You open the glass shower door, worry-eyed.

He blinks at you.

Gently, you grab his arm. He flinches with it. Has half a mind to slam you into the tile until you pop like an perfectly ripe fruit—

But he doesn't.

"C’mon, bath time," you coax him out, dripping, careful to not look down. It’s a preservation of modesty. It feels useless, Blade thinks, as he pulls away to clamor into the bath.

... There are bubbles. Fragrant and herbal, with a soft oil shimmering on the top of the water. It is the perfect temperature. It feels... good. He forgets how nice warmth is. He softens. You heave out a sigh and settle next to him, outside the bath. There's a dampened washcloth, already in your hand.

"Is it okay if I touch you?" You ask.

"I don't care."

"Give me a yes or a no,” you press him, glaring a little. You roll up your sleeves and rise to your knees.

"Yes, then." He does not care. Do you not understand?

(You probably don't. You definitely don't.)

Your expression is unreadable as you dunk the rag into the bathwater and begin to wash him. First his right arm, then his left. Gently rubbing him down, taking extra care with his hands. The rag is gentle over his stiff fingers. You check under each of his nails individually.

You’re meticulous.

You ask a question or two about how he washes himself, specifically his hair, but Blade can't give you answers. Kafka stocks his bathroom. His bottles are numbered, and he never deviates from their preassigned order. It is easier that way. Even in Kafka’s tub, she tends to use the same order of expensive-looking products that she favors.

The treatment you’re currently giving him is not routine.

The ends of your sleeves dip into the water as you stretch over the tub, toward his legs. Your tongue peaks out from your lips, bitten in concentration. (It’s cute.) Blade feels... compelled to assist you. He raises his leg up at the knee. Just as carefully, you scrub him down, and then focus on his other leg.

The experience fills him with a sense of unease.

(It’s too tender.)

(You treat him too delicately. Even Kafka acknowledges the damage he carries, and her touch is only gentle to punctuate a roughness later on. She toys with him— it’s a farce. The way you touch him is too kind. You are too kind for him. It reminds him— makes him feel the ghost of a touch from hands more delicate and powerful than your own. From a different lifetime, blotted by Mara, corrupted and molten in his mind—)

“Blade—?” Your voice is shaking, shattering. You’re frozen at the side of the tub.

Blade blinks.

He has his hand wrapped around your wrist; his grip swallowing the fragile limb. The force of it is bruising. He holds it under the water, forcing you to lean over the tub. You are submerged up to your elbow. Your expression is pinched, afraid. Your pupils pinpricked.

An animal snared.

His grip tightens.

“Let go, please.” You ask, lip wobbling.

He does not want to let go. He really does not want to let go. Blade cannot trace the feeling, it’s miasmatic. It was a bad idea to have you assist in bathing him. Mara webs itself behind his eyes. His jaw locks and breathes hard through his nose. He wants to sink his teeth into your throat.

“Please, stop,” You whine— whimper while tugging against his hold. You are half bent over the bath. Your eyes water, all shiny.

The tone does something to him. Many people plead around him— for their life, mercy, favor. It’s useless. He does not care. He has no reason to care. There are scripts to follow. However— there’s no script here. Just the warm suds, the blood pumping through your veins, and Blade’s tunneling vision.

With a sharp pull, he drags you into the bath.

You fall in headfirst. Instantly, you clamor at the side of the tub and his submerged legs to get yourself back above water. You scramble. It’s— cute. Your hair is slicked down around your face and forehead, eyes wide as you pant. His legs bracket your body. He tightens his thighs around you.

Your thin clothes are soaked and cling to you. Fabric over curves and folds over your flesh. Blade’s half-hard and feels bad about it.

(He can’t trace why. It’s far from the first time he’s been physically aroused in relation to you. It always makes him feel bad. Not with Mara, but something personal and sour and less mad. He hates it. He’s almost torn out a rib over the feeling.)

You hover, frozen, between his legs. The only sounds in the bathroom are your panting breaths and the drips rolling off your body, into the bathwater. You swallow, trembling, but remaining otherwise unmoving. It occurs to Blade after a few tense moments that you are waiting for him to strike.

Always like a little, frightened animal.

(Something in him writhes.)

He moves quickly, shooting a hand out to fist into your hair. His grip is unyielding, giving you no slack (though, he doesn’t yank and pull as he could. He could tear out chunks if he wanted. He just doesn’t want you to move.) He wants you closer— maybe. He wants you far away, thrown through one of the ship's thick windows and into the vacuum of space and dead.

(Though, it wouldn’t be as satisfying for the void of space to kill you. He’d rather do it. He wants to do it, if you’re going to die.)

You whine and paw at his wrists, babbling something.

Blade feels disgusting as he drags your body to his, his chest to your back, and he curls over your form. His arms wind around your waist and squeeze. You scratch at him, beg maybe— he can’t tell, his ears are ringing. Your fists that slam into his shoulders and skull feel like swats from a declawed kitten. He doesn’t budge despite your protests.

You stop fighting when you realize he isn’t hurting you.

Blade doesn’t... want to hurt you. He thinks. Not really. Not in the way that Mara is screaming at him to. He isn’t content, you’re too warm and too alive to be this close to his body, but it's not bad. Contact both scratches an itch under his skin and aggravates a wound. It’s like a bath with Kafka, but worse—

(Because part of him wants this.)

Blade flinches when you go slack against him, chest heaving out breath. Even this little ‘scrap’ has tired you out. You’ve become weakened in your confined state— even if you really wanted to fight him, you don’t have the physical strength to be able to.

You sniffle, covered in soaked clothes and soap suds.

“Don’t cry.” Blade says without thinking. His voice is shot, dead-pan.

Trembling, you shake your head, “I w-won’t.”

It’s a lie. You’re already shaking in his arms.

It’s— unfair. You’re most used to him, and less wary of him than Kafka. Part of him, a loud but small part of his mind, thinks that a bath together could be enjoyable— if he wasn’t washing blood and filth from his hair, and you weren’t shivering in your soaked day clothes.

(‘This could be nice’, it urges.)

His hands rub over your sides in small circles at the idea.

You gasp and squirm, looking back at him with wild eyes, “Blade, please—”

He stops, but his hold around your waist doesn’t waver. You sigh and lean back into his chest, deflating. Your eyes go half-lidded as you look toward the ceiling. They look— dull. Light and life drained. Like how they did when he and Kafka first collected you from that gilded planet.

Blade knows that look— a dull mind and an active body. Your breath is still a bit too fast. Your heart is the same, running a prey-like rhythm. He assumes that you have left your body, gone elsewhere.

“Hey.” He shakes you lightly, dragging you back to the cooling bath. “Help with my hair.”

“... Hair?” You ask, voice soft and dreamy. “... Do you need me to wash it?”

“Yes.”

“... Okay.” You nod after a moment and rotate in his lap.

Your shoulders sag forward as you fumble for shampoo and squirt a generous amount into your palm. Half of it misses and the gel sinks into the bathwater below.

It’s unfair— part of him says again— he wants to tear it out and shred it between his teeth or under his blade. It screams that it's unfair that you dote on a creature like him. It’s unfair that you must shiver while lathering and rinsing his hair. That your pretty lips tremble with fear.

The Mara writhes. He has not been human in so long. He does not deserve the gentleness you so often give him. Especially now, when he has dragged you closer, made you filthy with the stench of blood, and forced you so close. He wants to bite out your throat as you tip forward to grab a brightly colored bottle of oil and begin to work through the knots in his air.

You are frowning. You are crying.

He wants to eat you.

Blade reaches for your chest, studying the way that the fabric clings to your skin-gone-gooseflesh. He finds the top button of your soft blouse in his own unsteady hands and undoes it. You freeze when he does, breath catching.

You don’t breathe as he undoes another button.

Then another.

And another.

You don’t breathe until the garment is nearly off. Just one button secures the fabric. He can see the peak of your breasts under the fabric, nipples pebbled in the cold. You’re so cold.

(Blade wishes, dead Yingxing wishes, that he were warmer.)

Your hand shoots out and wraps around his wrist, and in a small voice, you beg, “Please, d-don’t.”

“You’re cold.” Blade says. He reaches past you, sloshing water, to turn on the spigot for hot water. “You will stay cold if you wear wet clothes.”

You look at him strangely. At first, it’s wounded. Like you’ve been lanced through with Shard Sword, and now bear the gaping wound. It morphs to one of confusion, then you bite your lip. And grab his hands in your own and stare at them.

“... That’s all?” You ask.

“Mostly.” Blade replies. There’s— more. Far more. But nothing that is concrete enough, or important enough, to share with you. It would more than likely aggravate his spitting Mara.

“Okay.” You reply, looking up from your joined hands. Your eyes are round and watery. “You’re not trying to rape me?”

He freezes.

The word ‘rape’ pulls something disgusting and festering up from Blade’s guts. Something he wants to purge. He has the distinct urge to lean over the side of the time and vomit, but he hasn’t eaten in the last forty-eight hours, so there’s nothing to heave up. So instead, he is still.

It’s like he can feel the rot. He’s not sure why. He knows what the word means, he is pretty sure he has been raped. Probably. Either when he was a young child, a refugee fleeing a massacred world, or maybe when he was the bedmate to a dragon. Maybe, probably, from Kafka, any number of times. Maybe last week. His mind is cloudy.

What constitutes rape is foggy.

He knows it would mean that he wants to have sex with you, and you wouldn’t want to have sex with him.

And Blade—

(He— He— doesn’t want to have sex with you? Or he does. Maybe. He wants to be close to you, inside you. He wants to curl around you and make you swear to never leave. He wants— he wants so much. Blade is selfish. But—)

Not like that, he doesn’t think. Others have been, he’s sure— he’s sure.

Mara pours into his mind, and he remembers then. Pieces of times, fragments of old memories, of rape. Of violation of all kinds.

(At the hands of borisins holding him down as he screamed and cried, his body too little to do any fighting in the jaws of an Abundance beast.)

(A tradesman who allowed him to stowaway on a cargo ship, destined for the Luofu. ‘Payment’ — the man had called it. For safe passage and a little sack of rice.)

(Dan Feng, during one of his draconic ruts. He was the Child of a Cosmic Horror, ultimately. That’s all Aeons are, anyways. Yingxing had been split on his cock so many times, so full, he bled for a day, even with Dan Feng fussing over him with his cloudhymns, lucid-in-mind and torn apart by so much guilt for a wildly proud man.)

(Kafka, a few days after she first picked him up from the surface of the asteroid Jingliu had been beating him into. Kafka, a few weeks after that— in a hotel that stank of blue emory roses. Kafka, a few weeks ago, draped over his shoulders between missions. There’s more. Memories drenched in the smell of her rich perfume. They tangle in feelings of comfort and revulsion.)

Blade doesn’t want to do any of that to you.

(He wants something with you— but—)

(Not like that. He doesn’t want you to hurt.)

“I’m not going to rape you.” He tells you. He hardly sounds like himself as the Mara quiets.

He thumbs over your lips. There’s a scar in the middle of them where they had been split, repeatedly, and then healed over. You’d told him once that one of your old keepers used to deprive you of water if he felt like it. Your breath is hot against his fingertip.

You say nothing, but your breath is still fast and shaky. Your eyes are wide. A feral, wild animal.

“I’m not.” Blade tries to reassure you. You flinch with the sound of his voice. “You’re freezing. The bath can be refilled with warm water. Bathe.”

Tears break over your lower lashes as you stare at him. He stares back.

(He wonders what you’re thinking. If you have as much trouble thinking as he does— you probably do. You’ve sustained head trauma. Traumas. You’re both torn-up wrecks, maybe. It could provide him with some solace.)

“... Okay.” You rub your eyes with balled up hands and laugh. “Okay.”

Blade then helps you peel off your shirt. Then your shorts and underwear. When you’re bare, Blade drains most of the water from the, leaving you both with a layer of clinging bubbles protecting the barest bits of your modesty. You cover your chest and center with your hands, keeping your head down. Hiding your throat.

He refills the tub with more soap— too much probably. Mountains of bubbles appear as he dumps in a glug of shimmering, emerald-colored oil. It swirls into the water as it rises. You relax as it rises over your chest. Your eyelids droop. You look so tired.

Blade washes you like you did him.

You face each other as he does. Your gaze never leaves him, though it goes glassy again. Unfocused. Blade can feel your heartbeat through your skin, slowing more and more with each pass of the warm, soapy rag he is using. He massages products into your hair. He thinks that he may be doing so in the correct order. He hopes he is.

This close, he can see all of you. Most of you. Feel you too. He feels ridges and bumps of scars. Chunks of flesh that have been torn from you, replaced by cicatrix, uneven and unnatural under his touch. You shudder when he touches you, shivering despite the heat of the room. You’re sensitive. He doesn’t want Kafka to know.

You feel different like this. Blade is unable to place why.

When he is through with you, steam and bubbles still rising from the bath, you drag him closer. Your fingers dig into his biceps, latching on and scrambling to get closer.

“... You really mean it, don’t you?” You ask. Your eyes are still unfocused. “You’re not going to? You’re not fucking with me?”

“... What are you talking about?”

An unrestrained smile stretches over your face, “You do mean it. You do. You do.”

Blade can only guess what you mean. You clearly will not (or cannot) tell him. You shiver against a full body thing against him. It makes him uneasy. He flips you by the hips, so that your back is to his chest, and he can curl over your shoulders. He cast a shadow into the water.

Indulgently, he presses his nose into your cheek. You smell like fresh soap and skin. He thinks if he licked you, you’d taste like salt.

He doesn’t.

When that’s all he does, you laugh.

It’s a belting thing, the kind of sound that’s punched from your gut with the same force that could break ribs. Blade can imagine the sound and sensation of it obliterating your insides as your laughter bounces around the tile of the bathroom. It’s manic. It’s an unwell sound. You clutch a fist over your chest as you howl.

You don’t stop for a while.

It’s clearly too much. Blade can feel it. The sound echoes in his chest. It must be shredding yours.

His arm wraps around your midsection as you do, and he tries to press you closer— he thinks. He thinks it might help. Your breath starts to shake, each inhale pitching high and sharp. You’re hyperventilating around your laughter. You’re hysterical, but don’t fight his hold. Even as tears drip down your cheeks, splattering into the bathwater.

Blade says your name— it should come out sharply. He means it to.

However, it is gentle. His voice is hushed and rough.

“You’re alright.” He squeezes you until the breath is forced from your lungs, and there’s no fuel for your laughter anymore. “You’re okay.”

With a choked, quiet sob, you reply, “I know.”

...

It’s later— much later. Maybe the next day.

Your room still doesn’t have any way to keep time other than your little tablet, which has been powered off and charges across the room on top of your dresser, so Blade can only guess.

He lays beside you in bed, propped up on an elbow. You sleep next time to him, relaxed and soft-jawed. The soft duvet is pulled up to your collarbones, and you curl into Blade. He’s— warmer than the rest of your room. Even if he does run too cold to be properly alive.

He runs the side of his index finger over your face.

You had been so tired after leaving the bath, you’d hardly been able to dress yourself— you hadn’t been able to. Blade to pick out sleep clothes and help you get into them. He chose whatever he could find that seemed. Soft.

(A flowing, soft teal top and white shorts with golden thread sewn in the seams.)

You fell asleep quickly after that and have been ever since. Blade had only meant to sit on the edge of your mattress.

That did not happen.

Instead, he’s tucked next to you. One of your hands fists the front of his shirt, and your body is angled toward him. Seeking. Wanting.

Blade could take.

He recognizes that.

It’s a thought, though, not a temptation. Not after the bath. Not after feeling the ways in which your body has been torn apart and so painstakingly put itself back together. You are not a creature of Abundance, you are not built to live forever and to repair yourself endlessly like he is. Your vitality is finite. Every scar your flesh must restitch takes something from you and it will not be replaced.

You will end.

Your bedroom door clicks, five times, then opens with a whoosh of air. Kafka stands in the doorframe. A sickly-sweet smile stains her mouth. Her lipstick is the is freshly applied and glossy.

“I see you got all cleaned up, Bladie,” her voice is silken and smooth. He could drown in it. “Was our little pup helpful?”

“... Yes.”

“Good.” Kafka hums. Her heels click against the floor, and she takes a place next to you. Even as the mattress dips, you don’t stir. “You’re so helpful with training them. Good boy.”

Blade pauses his petting of you to glare and grunt at Kafka. She looks delighted.

“I wasn’t aware I was assisting with any sort of training.”

“It’s all implicit. As long as they’re getting comfortable, that’s what counts. Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything else.”

Blade doesn’t like that answer.

“I don’t want to see them hurt,” Blade says.

“That’s sweet of you.”

“I mean it, Kafka.”

“I know, I know.” Kafka laughs. She sighs and falls into the bed, over the cushy duvet. She spoons you, flattening herself to your back and winding her arms around your waist. Your brow wrinkles and a little whimper scratches from your throat. “I’d like to see our new puppy kept in one piece too, Bladie. I’ve grown quite fond of them. However, we are both beholden to Destiny. If one of Elio’s scripts—”

“I know.” Blade snaps.

He does not want to think about it.

His hand that had been petting you winds tightly into your hair and your face scrunches up.

“Listen, Bladie, everything’s alright. You’re okay.” Kafka soothes, dropping a kiss onto your cheek. It leaves a smear. Kafka works Blade’s hand out of your hair. “Be good and keep them company while I give Elio a mission report.”

“That’s what I have been doing.”

“Then, keep it up.”

Kafka rolls out of bed with a sigh, not a hair out of place. She leaves the room almost soundlessly, the door clicking as it relocks. Five times.

Blade does as Kafka says. He keeps you company, sinking down into the mattress beside you. He wipes away the lipstick left over your cheek and presses a kiss to the spot. He lingers there.

Kafka can have— a lot of him. But, perhaps, he will covet you, all for himself.

(If the Mara in his mind had not been suppressed, perhaps he would have heard:

(FOOL FOOL FOOL! DO YOU NOT REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU COVET AND CLING? DO NOT FORGET YOUR SINS! DO NOT FORGET HIS SINS—!)

Instead, his mind is quiet. He pulls you closer and sleeps. Space is dead around him, and you are dead to the world in his undying arms.

Blade thinks he likes when you bathe with him.

521 notes · View notes

zchlongli · 26 days

Note

I hope this doesn't make you feel uncomfortable but Neko yandere shinsou in heat with reader? Please tell me if this request makes you uncomfortable!

Prelude - I promise I’m getting to y’alls requests as fast as I can!! I am always sad tho and have to take a lot of time to go climb up the nearest mountain and contemplate life while my dog zooms after cows in the distance.

Prompt - Hybrid!Shinsou. I made him a hybrid babeeyy. And also Reader doesn’t know what heats are, obvs neither does Shinsou. it’s a plot hole that I’d like to explain by saying that heats are a very taboo thing in this AU and no one talks about them ever and there's a lot of shame and stigma about them.

Pairing - Cat Hybrid Shinsou X Reader

Warnings - okay as always NSFW. tw for noncon, dub con. Shinsou can’t stop fuckin.

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/03f7xZmt2wHCIDJBFPK8G4?si=hjwchpMeTHOI5-_hf6hpHQ

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The house is quiet when you get home, dark. As you dump your keys on the table next to the door, you toe off your shoes, shuffling out of your jacket. You suppose Shinsou, your cat hybrid, was holed up in his room, maybe reading a book or already asleep. Usually he greets you when you get home, ushering you to the dining room so he can sit you down and place a plate of hot food in front of you.

He’s sweet like that, attentive. Know’s you’re exhausted from work and takes it upon himself to make the both of you dinner.

Adopting a hybrid was one of the best decisions you had ever made. You were initially hesitant, uncomfortable with the idea of “owning” a hybrid, due to the fact that they were essentially just the same as people. But your friends, coworkers, even your parents had said it was a good idea. You’d be saving a hybrid from a life of getting bounced around shelters, or from getting kicked out on the street and treated like trash.

Some shelters even euthanized hybrids if there wasn’t enough room. You had the means to support one, why not adopt a companion? So you’d gone down to your local shelter with a friend there to support you, and immediately fell in love with Shinsou the second you laid eyes on him. There was a myriad of options, ranging from older dog hybrids to tiny adorable bird hybrids, but the little purple kitten hybrid looked like it needed you.

He was really thin, all small and frail and nothing but skin and bones. Barely a week old, his mother had gotten hit by a car - luckily the driver had enough heart to drop the orphaned kitten hybrid off at the shelter. His big purple eyes were rimmed red, probably from bawling his little heart out, and he looked so tired and dejected that your heart ached, made you want to squeeze him to your chest and kiss his little purple ears and tell him that everything was going to be okay.

As soon as you signed the papers, that’s exactly what you did.

Getting the kitten used to you hadn’t been too hard. You fed him and took care of him, gave him toothbrush baths when his hair got too unruly, scratched his little ears at night until he fell asleep, tiny chest vibrating with the force of his purrs.

You found that he loved playing with your hair, his sharp nails catching the strands and batting at you until you had to pull back, afraid of going bald. Hybrids grew differently than non-hybrids. Shinsou was the size of a small toddler when you adopted him, but a few short years passed and he was easily the same size as you. A few more years and he dwarfed your form, bigger and taller and fully grown into his adult form. His “teenage” years had been a bit rocky, the cat locking himself into his room more often than not, but you quickly realized that he just needed space.

He still liked to cuddle with you.

The more you learned about him, the more you realized he truly was like a cat. When he got agitated, his smooth tail would twitch side to side, thumping against the wall or the table leg if you teased him at dinner. He liked watching bird documentaries, would sometimes involuntarily chitter if he got really sucked into it, eyes narrowed into slits, pupils slanted and tiny. His nails were just like your own, although sometimes you noticed that they were a bit sharper, but Shinsou really tried his best to keep them trimmed, just so he wouldn’t hurt you when combing through your hair.

Shinsou had his own room, and he liked it warm, liked sitting in the pile of soft blankets you had bought him and kneading them with his hands, holding a corner of the fabric up in his mouth with his eyes closed in bliss. You had only seen him do that once, and he had gotten so embarrassed, cheeks flushing pink and refusing to talk about it if you brought it up. You made sure to buy him a few more soft blankets after that. He liked dragging one of two into your bedroom, brought it with him when he came to cuddle with you. Probably had something to do with scents and all, the hybrid hated when you came home smelling of an animal or a new person or a hybrid that wasn’t him.

The cutest thing? His tail puffed up like a raccoon whenever he got scared. You had dropped a dish one time and immediately turned to apologize, only to see Shinsou looking like a purple fox, tail frizzed out behind him like he’d been electrocuted. You gave him lots of pets after that, smiling but trying not to mention how cute he had looked, instead trying to soothe your friend as he talked to you about the latest movie he had watched.

He really was your best friend.

So it was a little odd, a little worrying to see the house dark and empty, when you were used to him asking about your day, rubbing against your side to entice you to pet his ears. It was strange enough for you to go looking for him.

“Shinsou?”

You shuffled down the hall, fears allayed when you saw a strip of light underneath his bedroom door, right across from your own. That meant he was probably reading, or playing a video game. You knew to give the adult cat his alone time, but you gave the door a quick knock (along with a “I’m home.”) as you passed to let him know you were back from work.

Turning towards your own bedroom with the intent to change into your pajamas, you froze as you heard a strangled groan coming from your hybrid’s room. It sounded like he was in pain? You knocked on the door again, concerned.

“Shinsou? You alright? Is everything okay?”

“‘M fine.”

HIs voice sounded a bit raspier than normal, as if he maybe had a sore throat. Was he sick? Maybe you should take him in for a checkup.

“Are you sure? You sound hurt.” You persisted, worried for him.

“No, I’m good, I promise.”

“Alright.” You muttered as you pushed yourself away from the door, worrying your bottom lip. If he insisted, you weren’t going to push the issue. He was an adult now, and knew to communicate to you if he was in pain or if he wanted to go see the vet for anything. You always did your best to take care of him

——

Changed into your comfy pajamas - nothing more than a pair of loose shorts and a tank top - you went about making yourself dinner, the action feeling unfamiliar. You were so used to Shinsou doing it for you, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. You always made breakfast and weren’t a terrible cook, so it wasn’t hard to whip up something easy, like noodles.

You were rampaging in the silverware drawer, trying to find a fork when a weight draped across your back.

“Hey Shinsou, you eaten yet?”

His nose dragged against the back of your neck, and he huffed, letting out a muffled “Yeah”. You stayed still for him, bowl-in-hand as he scented you. Shinsou did this sometimes, although it wasn’t a common occurrence for him.

“You smell good…”

Blinking, you turned to look at him. “Oh? Maybe it’s the noodles.” You found a fork, before digging into your bowl, nosily slurping up your food before smiling at your hybrid.

He detached himself from your back, let you move to go sit down at the table, still slurping up noodles as you did so. You barely sat down before you heard a wet plap, head swiveling to find your hybrid staring at you, cheeks flushed.

“You sure you don’t want me to make you some?” You asked, referring to the bowl of noodles in your hand. “You’re literally drooling.”

Shinsou shook his head, cheeks flushing even darker before looking away, tail swishing slowly behind him, ears perked as if you had been whispering. “No… I’m gonna go lay down - stomach’s feeling a ‘lil funny.”

“So you were feeling bad! Shinsou, you know you’re supposed to tell me about this stuff, I’ll go call the vet right now.” Whipping out your cellphone, you began dialing the vet.

“Nah, I think it’s just an upset stomach. Like that time I had that ice cream, remember?”

You paused, thumb hovering over the call button before relenting, setting the phone down on the table. “Fine, fine. Just tell me if it gets any worse. You need to let me take care of you.”

Shinsou looked up at you, watched you for a second before you turned back to your food, opening up your phone to scroll through social media. He kept his gaze on you for another minute - you could see him watching you in the corner of your eyes, almost making you uncomfortable before he turned, heading back towards his bedroom.

Perhaps it was just like the time he ate ice cream - he acted kinda funny then too. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t know most cats were lactose intolerant, but you still felt bad about it nonetheless.

Forgetting about that for the time being, you focused on eating, mindlessly scrolling through your phone.

----

A yawn escaped you as you turned off the kitchen lights, done cleaning up your mess from dinner, ready to go to bed. Today had been a good day, but even good days can be long, and you were more than ready to collapse into bed. Shinsou’s light was off, and you figured the hybrid had finally gotten his stomach to calm down enough for him to sleep.

“(Y/N) - “

You knew he had good hearing, could hear you walking past his room to reach your own, so it wasn’t a surprise when you heard your name. What was a surprise was the way he moaned it. It was too late to call the vet now.

You gave his door a soft knock, but were met with no answer. What the actual hell was going on? Thankfully, Shinsou tended to keep his door unlocked these days, trusting you to respect his privacy (which you did, when he wasn’t moaning in pain and not answering you).

Opening the door, you squinted trying to peer into his dark room. The temperature difference was noticeable, the subtle heat of his room compared to the comfortable chilly atmosphere of you home apparent as you stepped inside.

“Shinsou? What’s wrong?”

He moaned again, and your head snapped towards the bed, body already moving forward. If only you had your phone with you, you could turn on the light and see what was wrong.

“It fuckin’ hurttss.” He whined, making you frown.

Shinsou never swore, was always polite in your presence. You reached the edge of the bed, peering down at the lump underneath the covers. It looked like he was moving, rocking back and forth.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here, tell me what’s wrong.” Reaching a hand out, you touched his shoulder, almost jumping when he violently shuddered.

“Ohhhh…”

Okay, you were officially done with this. You marched back over to the door, flicking on the lights before you came back, Shinsou still underneath the covers, purple hair barely visible.

“Shinsou, please, you gotta tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

Dark purple eyes snapped to meet your own, and you were taken aback at how large the pupil was, how dark it seemed. He really was sick. “I don’t-I don’t know, hurts so bad, (Y/N) please…”

You sat down on the bed, moving so you could brush his hair back, take in his flushed, sweaty appearance. His eyes were still fixed on you as he took giant, gulping breaths.

“I can’t-I don’t know what’s-I’m so hard ’n it hurts so baddd” His sentence ended with a sob, and you froze.

He was… hard?

What?

Trying to work through it in your head, you jumped when Shinsou grabbed your wrist, his other hand pushing at the covers. “Please, I’m hot and I don’t know what’s goin’ on, (Y/N) I need-“

“You need a doctor.” You blurted out. They have a hybrid section at the emergency center, you needed to get him up and out to the car, whatever this was, it was bad.

Shinsou whined when you tried to pull out of his grip, so you shushed him, smoothed his hair before turning to try and do this while seated, since he wouldn’t let you stand. You needed to get him up. You helped him push at the covers, taking a corner in one hand and peeling it off him, gaping at the sight underneath.

Shinsou was totally naked.

His cock was hard, lying against his stomach, drooling cum and precum and shiny with wet. Cum was pooled all over his stomach, resting in the faint dips of his abs, striping over his skin.There was so much.

The hybrid whined again as you looked him over, cock giving a noticeable twitch. You quickly averted your eyes, face bright red as you looked into Shinsou’s eyes, at his ears, anywhere except for the hard length throbbing against his toned stomach.

“Shinsou, let me go so I can get you some clothes - I’m going to take you to the hospital.”

“No, I need-I need you.” He pulled you down suddenly, and you fell on his chest, and you immediately tried to backpedal to your previous position. There was cum on his chest too, and you squeaked as your hand landed on a wet spot on the bed.

Oh my god, there was so much cum.

Shinsou was nuzzling your neck, huffing hot breath against your skin, his hands coming to grab your wrists, keep you pinned in your sideway position, draped across his chest.

“Smell so sweet, wanna take a bite.” He bit down on your neck, and you screamed, his sharp teeth puncturing the skin, sending pain lancing around the area. “Sorry, ‘M sorry.” Shinsou mumbled, immediately detaching from your neck to lave his roughened tongue over the bite, lapping up your blood.

Fuck getting him dressed and in your car, you needed help. “Let me go, Shinsou. I’m gonna go call an ambulance.” You tried to say it as calmly as possible, but you couldn’t deny the waver of fear in your voice.

The hybrid groaned, hooking a hand around your hip and dragging your body closer, laying you completely on top of him.

“No, don’t want you to go. I don’t want anybody else, need you, please.”

“Shinsou, you need a doctor, I don’t even know what’s wrong with you.”

You blanched when he started rutting up against you, able to feel his lengthy dick sliding against the fabric of your tank top, over your stomach.

“Need to fuck you, need you close.”

You wiggled in his hold. “Shins-“ The hand on your hip was tearing at your tank top, slicing through the straps as if they were nothing. Pressed against his body like this, nothing was exposed, but the action made you sputter in shock. You didn’t know his nails were capable of being that sharp. With a grunt, Shinsou rolled the two of you over, trapping you underneath him before he started pulling at your tank top, still desperately rutting onto your stomach.

“You said you’d take care of me, please, it hurts so bad. I wanna be inside of you, ‘M so hard.”

You gave up trying to preserve your modesty as Shinsou sliced your tank top to shreds, taking care to avoid nicking your skin. Yes, you had told Shinsou that you’d take care of him, but you didn’t want to take care of him like this. He needed a doctor.

Before you could voice your thoughts, Shinsou was sucking at your breast, a loud shriek escaping you as his textured tongue flicked at your nipple. A spurt of warmth drenched your stomach, and you knew Shinsou had just cum all over you. Horrifyingly, there was no pause, no rest, no reconsideration - Shinsou acted as if he hadn’t blown his load, continuing to hump you, cock still hard.

The hand not trapping your wrists began pulling at your shorts, and you kicked your legs, looped them over each other, tried to keep them welded shut through sheer force of will. Shinsou was going too fast, was frantic in his movements as he sucked and bit at your chest and pulled at your shorts. You barely had time to think, too process what was happening. You needed a break, needed him off you and you needed to call the hospital.

A particularly harsh nip to your nipple had you crying out in pain, and the lean hybrid used that moment to wrench down your shorts, baring you to him. You never wore underwear underneath your sleepwear, felt more comfortable with a bra or panties, and it had never been a problem.

Till now.

“Shinsou, stop, wait! I don’t want this, you need to calm down, please stop.”

Shinsou paused, finally noting the panic lacing your words, the liquid threatening to spill from your eyes. You didn’t want your sweet, friendly hybrid to fuck you through the mattress. You didn’t want him doing this, already felt disgusted at yourself for even accidentally seeing his dick when you had pulled off the covers. Yes, he was an adult, an attractive one at that, but first and foremost he was your friend, and you wanted to keep it that way. You had practically raised the hybrid, and had no desire to do any of what was happening at the moment.

“(Y/N), please let me fuck you. Oh, please, please-it hurts so bad, I wanna fuck you, please?”

He looks so pitiful, tears in his own eyes from holding back, unable to stop himself from rocking gently against you. You stared up at him, his big dark eyes, almost crying yourself.

“No… I don’t want you to. Please let me go now.”

His hips stopped moving.

You sighed in relief, feeling Shinsou lift himself off of you. You were calling the hospital as soon as you got your phone, then locking yourself in your bathroom and scrubbing at your skin till it bled.

Shinsou grabbed your hip and flipped you onto your stomach.

Fear bloomed, like a cold needle pressing tight to your skin.

The hybrid let go of your wrists, pulled your hips up so you were forced onto your knees in one swift motion. You barely had time to stutter out a panicked “n-n-n-no!!” before you felt him pressing his dick against your pussy, head nudging slowly inside.

“I can’t stop, I need you so bad. You’d said you’d help.”

His tone was accusatory, hurt. It hurt you in turn, almost as painful as the slow push of his dick into your unprepared cunt. You had always taken care of him, tended to his scraped knees and hurt feelings, were always there for him whenever he needed you. But you couldn’t help him with this, not like how he wanted.

He bottomed out, balls pressing against your skin. He was so slick and wet already from his own cum that it hadn’t burned when he pressed in, just stretched you painfully tight around his cock. You reached behind you, pushed at his hip, used your other hand to lift yourself up and try to scoot away from him. You couldn’t do this, you felt sick.

When Shinsou started thrusting, you started thrashing.

He was moving so fast, so rapid, humping against you like a dog, everything wet and messy. You writhed beneath him, trying to escape the brutal grip he had on your hips, nails digging into your flesh and piercing the skin deeper with each thrust. Shinsou was moaning in relief, panting behind you, obviously feeling better.

“You feel incredible, always knew you would. I love you so much, oh-oh fuck!” His hips still for a second, and you feel pressure, warmth deep inside you, signaling that the hybrid reached another orgasm. With barely a breath, he starts fucking you again, rocking into you at the same frantic speed as before. You sob.

Every thrust has lewd, too-loud squelches echoing into the room, your pussy getting wet from the stimulation, from Shinsou fucking his cum into you, from the filthy words he’s groaning out.

“Wanna cum again, ’s not enough. Gonna get your pussy all sloppy, gonna make you feel good too. Always wanted to fuck you, fill you up with cum until it drips out ‘cause you couldn’t hold it. Make sure everybody else knew you were mine.”

He was exciting himself, hips snapping against your ass faster, breathing harder as he abused your cunt. This time when he cums, the hybrid doesn’t pause - simply fucks himself through it, moaning brokenly at the pleasure. You’re dripping down there, can hear each wet slap when your skin connects with his, although you aren’t sure if the wetness is your own slick or the cum he’s pumping you full of.

You’ve stopped thrashing, can do nothing more but lie there brokenly as Shinsou wrecks you. You want to say something, tell him to stop, scream no, but he’s fucking you to fast for you to hold onto a coherent thought.

“Oh, you’re so good to me. I love you so much, gonna make you feel so nice. Fuck, I don’t ever wanna stop, you’re so tight and hot and perfect, I wanna stay inside you forever.” Shinsou sighs, before leaning over you, shifting his weight to drape across your back and pant hotly against your ear. “You make me feel so good, needed-need you so bad.”

With a shudder, the hybrid sums again, and you sob pitifully as you feel his cum join the rest of the mess leaking out of you. One of his hands leave your hips, and then you’re crying out as his nimble fingers prod at your clit, quickly finding out where it is by the way you gasp. Then he’s rubbing tight little circles, smearing his cum and your juices over the fat bud and you’re keening in pleasure, back arching.

Then Shinsou is tensing as your pussy clenches, and he begins jackhammering into you, pace rabid and without rhythm.

“Fuck, fuck, gonna cum! Gonna cum again! Oh fuck, gonna-gonna-!” He whines, the slap of skin-against-skin too loud and too fast and he’s touching you so well and he’s fucking you so good and-

You orgasm washes over you like a throbbing wave, making you feel as if your entire body is pulsing, tingling with pleasure. Shinsou’s wailing as he comes again, taking his hand off your clit to grab at your hair, soothing himself against the overwhelming sensation by stroking it with his sticky hand.

He doesn’t stop thrusting through his orgasm, but slows down significantly, rocking into you like a lover would, almost wheezing against your back as he whimpers.

Shinsou’s hips shakily stop, and he pulls out, before collapsing onto his side, pulling you down with him, flush against his body. He strokes your hair, smoothing down the strands as he buries his nose in-between your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply, surrounding himself with the sensation of /you/. You barely pay attention to his mumbled confession, spoken into your skin as if he’s afraid to say it out loud.

“I-I love you (Y/N), I think I always have.”

His voice is quieter now, calmer. He doesn’t have the same rushed air as he did before.

You barely take notice when he slips his cock into you again, the hard length displacing his cum, causing it to leak out onto your thigh. He’s more gentle as he thrusts, running his fingers through your hair like he always does.

He’s insatiable, and you don’t have the stamina to keep up.

Would it make you a bad person if you couldn’t stand to live with your hybrid anymore? He might revisit the shelter soon.

You’re rocked to sleep by his slow rhythm, heart hurting.

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zchlongli · 2 months

Text

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY 💖

-Bob

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zchlongli · 3 months

Text

with nothing to grab you’re just a broken toy

Warnings: NSFW content (mature audiences), gangbang, double penetration, pseudo-incest, nipple play, cum stuffing, anal, illusions to virgin Xiao, perverted thinking, power imbalance, corruption, mind break (?), dubcon, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, mentions of manipulative Childe, inappropriate relationships, overstimulation

For: Calis anon - so sorry for taking an eternity to write this my love, I hope it suffices and I hope you enjoy <3 thank you for your endless patience.

WC: 3.4K

“You two are disgusting.”

It’s gritted out through clenched fangs of the demon slayer yaksha who watches with narrowed eyes at the spectacle in front of him.

It’s erotic in a debauched way. Borderline horrendous and repulsive, but arousing all in the same fashion. Toeing that dangerous edge of no return - the one that leaps into the dark underbelly of a beast much more ravenous than this. You’re humiliated at this moment, so shamelessly speared on your step-brother’s cock in the center of all of Teyvat’s mora.

Zhongli understands this is immoral, so does Xiao. This prurient vile exhibition in front of them should’ve had them turning their noses and striding out of the golden house. Should’ve made them forsake you two, to drag you from your dirty seams and make an example out of you both. So incredibly bold for defiling the golden house with your, with your - what can they even call it?

A dirty human sin that should make them sick to their stomachs, yet-

They’re so undoubtedly corrupt.

“Yeah? Looks like you’re enjoying it.” Tartaglia is a bitch. Insane enough to mock the geo archon and adepti alike, two powerful beings who fought in the war, who could very easily kill him with the snap of their fingers. And here he sits laughing at their expressions of horror and arousal.

They can’t move, can’t look away, can’t even breathe - not when the soft amber-colored Harbinger has you with your face down and ass up, knees tucked under you and digging into the jade tiles as he pounds into you from behind, the resounding wet smacks of his sticky hips colliding with your bruised cheeks makes them shudder. Heat pooling in their stomachs as they watch your mouth drop open and cream on his cock.

“Really Childe? Out here in the open.” It’s laughable at how Zhongli tries to make him feel embarrassed, your brother just giving a hearty shrug of his shoulders and quick chuckle, “I don’t think she minds.” You whine - you do, you think. But it’s hard to tell with the arousal slipping down your inner thighs and making shiny puddles on the once clean floor. “Please, s’embarrassing,”

And your brother has never been kind to those he considers weak. Ignoring your cries, eyes flickering back and forth between the men ramrod straight in front of you and the sniffling little lamb underneath him. “You can take it, you wouldn't want to disappoint the hero’s of Liyue would you? That’d be a shame.”

He’s so mean, he knows that you can’t say no to him. Knows that having them watch you makes you cream and drool on his lap - and he uses it against you like he uses everything else.

Lifting your head you stare at the two adepti, all power, and status. You catch the way they stare, the way they loom over like two lynx over a hare. It allows for something vagrant to rise in your throat, stomach feeling like putty, gray-stained soot, and sticky. The feeling sucker punches you and leaves you breathless, knocking all the oxygen out of your lungs. They’re so beautiful. A divine rule of beauty. The type to make shivers run down your spine, that wanders into your mind from time to time. Ethereal beings can only be seen in your imagination because of their rarity, yet they stand before you blessing you in their presence as they watch you be ruined by someone who’s supposed to be considered your family.

“Heh, I think they like the show princess, what do you think?” Your brother mocks, nuzzling into the back of your neck as you choke on your spit. “Ch-childe don’t,”

Your heart feels like it’s drumming along the lining of your ribs and wants to lump out onto the pretty mahogany floor. Sticky tongue flicking out of the corners of your mouth as you let your head hang down. There’s something so debauched about how the men look like they’re jealous of how your step-brother plows your pussy on the floor. The small sounds of, “ah, ah, ah” that you let out each time he slips in too far, how he spits mean words over your shoulder - it shouldn’t make you drip onto the floor as much as it does.

It makes their breaths hitch, a shaky twitch along their fingers. They stare with narrowed eyes, barely open slits that make you shudder under their gaze. Zhongli looks serious as ever, mouth set in a straight line, but the slight tremor in his chest as he hears you cry, “Please childe-nii, I can’t!” Let’s you know he so badly wants to fuck you into the floor.

“You should be nicer to her.” You hear it, the gruff baritone of his voice curling around your brain and you keen.

“You telling me how to fuck my own sister?” Gods those words should make you vomit, but you can’t help the clench in your tummy or the clamp of your lips on his cock, the shaky inhale as you squirm. “Oh someone liked that, dirty dirty dirty.” He sneers from behind and your eyes tear at his tone. Heat searing through your entire being. For someone with a hydro vision, Tartaglia is all fire - all burning hot embers that blaze down your cheeks and seep into your skin, down to the bone.

And Tartagalia notices, of course he does, and he’s hauling you up by your tits, hands gripping the mounds as he bucks into you. Tweaking the perked-up buds till you squeak and thrash on his hold.

Splaying big palms down to your slicked inner thighs and spreading them open for them to see your abused puffy cunt, a wet salacious smirk on his face as he lets them stare at your pussy. Thumbing at the lips that hug his fat cock as you squirm under their piercing gazes.

“Yer so messy baby, did you get all wet from them watching me fuck your tight cunt.” He hums, nosing the side of your neck, and he’s side-eyeing them. “S’ too much,” he’s rolling his hips that are flushed against yours, ignoring the tremble across your body, “Nah, you’re just a crybaby.”

“Come on, don’t just stand there like chumps.” He flits his eyes up to the men who have yet to move a muscle, mockingly with teeth bared at them in a feral grin that makes even them shudder.

They should be annihilating Childe where he sits for taunting them, for clutching hold of your waist and playing with you like a toy in front of them - teasing them. Them - the adepti that have lived for centuries and have protected people like you. Xiao is a slayer of demons, Zhongli a fierce protector of Liyue - not sick bastardized men who get hard at the sight of some gross mortal banging his step-sister.

But they cave, shuddering at the sound of your cries and moans that ring across the golden house. Cocks straining against their pants, leaking pre in their briefs.

“Move over then.”

Zhongli is the first to step up. Giving your brother a look, a hard nod - like there’s some sort of unspoken agreement between them, that they have full range over you. He takes Childe’s place behind you, big palms smoothing down your curved back. The back gloved fingers take hold of each cheek and spread them till you double forward into Childe’s chest, and he’s holding you in his arms as Zhongli plays with your other twitchy hole. Eyes widening at the severity of the situation, mouth opening to whimper out your worries, when a finger gets shoved on your tongue.

“You can take it, angel, I know you can.” You hate that his praise makes you keen. Who are you to deny the geo archon of Liyue?

“You’re dripping onto the floor,” Zhongli murmurs, voice low with some sort of edge that makes you think he might like this more than he should, heat flushing your cheeks. All the while your brother sits in front of you, kneeling back on his haunches as he plays with your tits, rolling the mounds in his hands.

Pinching your nipples and tugging them to see them bounce back on your chest. Smearing them in your saliva before slipping his fingers down to tease your pussy. You’re so wet it seeps down his wrist and makes sloppy noises as strings of slick drip out of you. Face heating even more as you shuffle back to meet the steady pumping of his digits in your ass.

Too much, too much, too much, you think. The continual drag of his calloused fingers in your cunt and Zhongli stretching your ass. “I-, oh fuck,” you groan, burying your face into the pale expanse of Childe’s chest.

“How’s it feel to get your tiny little ass played with baby?” Childe mocks, leaning forward as he pets your puffy clit with his thumb, your mouth hung open as you squirm under the two men’s hands. He’s looking at your face all scrunched, eyes full of stars as he stares down at your pretty expression. You can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t-

Zhongli uses your creamy slick that pools down your thighs to work one, two, three fingers into your ass. His fingers bumping Childe’s, as he circles’s the tight rim. “Morax- Zhongli! Hah- wait, ohmygod.” You feel him reach that familiar yet still tight part of you, his fingers long and stretching out your walls.

Curling and twisting them till he thinks you're loose enough, the gummy walls pulping around his digits as he hooks them up and down till you’re shaking on his wrist. “I think you’re good now.” He muses, feeling him slap his hefty cock against the glob of your backside, and your eyes widen when you feel how fucking big he is.

“It won’t fit-“ You whimper, bulbous head circling the tight opening that pulsing and winking at him from behind. He’s even bigger than Childe. And you can feel the smirk that’s spread across all the men’s faces, and Zhongli hums out, “I’ll make it.” And your cunt clenches around nothing.

“You’re lucky I’m so nice, baby, else I’d let them both inside your tiny pussy.” Your brother says smugly, caressing your face as he watches your tongue loll out of your mouth as Zhongli pushes his fat cock into your ass. You simper, hands balling into fists along his shoulders as you feel the stretch of his cock in your tight hole.

The way he dips in too far, too fast, makes visions blast in your eyes as you stutter on your words, “Fuck, she’s so tight. Squeezing around me so well.” Zhongli groans, head thrown back as he bottoms out. He makes quick work of thrusting you, hardly letting you adjust. He’s so fucking big, the air feels charged - like an electro vision has been set off, but its the way he cants his hips up into you, messy slopping sound each time his balls hit your clit.

You’re gonna cum again, no doubt, with how Childe pinches your clit and Zhongli is deep in your guts. “I’m gonna- oh fuck, Li-” It hurts. The way they build you up and kick you down just as fast, your orgasm set ablaze under them as they use you. Makes you snap, doubling into Childe’s chest as you clench on Zhongli’s cock. You cum with a yell, a blinding snap in your stomach that makes you gush pretty rivelts onto his fingers and down his palm. “Yeahhhh, hah, love when that happens.” Childe smirks, rubbing fast hard circles onto your clit with no reprieve, makes you jolt and squirm in Zhongli’s tight grip.

“See that’s nice and all sweetheart, but I wanna feel you too.” And you’re whimpering out that it's too much, you just came. All the while Zhongli hooks his arms under yours, hauling you up in an all too familiar way, so that Tartaglia can slide into your wet fluttery cunt. He’s grinning from ear to ear, hard cock that’s nearly purple sliding into your drooling hole.

You keen, cumming again just from the feeling of being so fucking full. Pushing a hand on his abs as if that’ll stop the brutal spasms in your battered lower half. You hear Zhongli hiss through his teeth at how tight you get when Childe slips in, and your brother lets out a booming laugh at your pathetic wobbly lips. “Did ya cum again? All from me pushing my cock into your tight cunt? What a little slut.”

The pace that’s set should be illegal. Zhongli grabs hold of your hips and makes a home out of them, lithe fingers digging into the soft skin as he bucks his hips into your ass, with your step-brother in your cunt. The both of them sliding in and out like clockwork, ruthlessly beating your pussy with hard thrusts.

“Come on tell them how much you love how your nii-san fucks this tight pussy.” Childe growls against your neck, relentless hammering of his cock driving between your more than pliant cunt. Two fingers on your nipples as he tweaks them in his grasp.

“C-Childe, wait,” Your mind is foggy with faint humiliation, at how you enjoy this more than you should. With three pairs of eyes on you as they unravel and break you open for them. And the geo archon would know you were lying if you said you didn’t want them to do it.

You’re so full. So unbearably and completely full, stuffed to the brim with cocks way too big to be considered normal, the drag of them inside your pulsing walls had you rolling back your eyes and gripping onto the man in front of you. The unexplainable coiling and then wild snap of each orgasm they pull from you.

“Such a slut, letting yourself be fucked by your brother in front of two adepti,” He hums, yanking your head back by your scalp with harsh fingers, cock bruising your cervix. You’re a wreck of drool, sweat, snot, and cum. Body blazing and twitchy all over. You stare with clouded eyes at the powerful gods before you, eyes shiny and tongue lolling across your mouth. “Please, please-“ You whine, not quite knowing what you want. Jerking away from Zhongli’s snapping fingers and bruising lips. He is the opposite of Childe.

Childe is glassy, freezer burn at the pit of a cooler, dripping frozen icicles on the edge of your tongue. Tasting like raw honey, too sweet it makes your throat ache and you groan around his overwhelming form. He consumes you, swallowing you whole under blankets of false warmth that were actually freezing sheets of sleet. Yet, he singes just the same, so cold he burns. His love is what ultimately burns you. Sinking so far into you and then ripping away like a long-overdue bandaid.

Childe is having the time of his life, and though he loves you - no doubt about that - he wants to break you. Wants to see you be ruined on their cocks and stretched till you sob. That’s why it’s so easy to loll his head and ask the silent man,

“You just gonna fuck your fist or what?” It breaks Xiao out of his stupor, eyes looking up from your creamy cunt to the man. He’s been more than quiet, cock straining hard against his pants at the sight of you being wrecked on their laps. Morax bullying his way into your guts from behind, your brother sitting inside your pussy, your mouth dropped open as you yelp and wail on their laps. “Don’t tell me what to do.” He growls, teeth bared and sneering, yet he’s sauntering down the steps and making his way over the three of you.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist, I know ya wanna fuck her too.” Childe should’ve gotten punched in the face, truly.

Xiao doesn’t really know what to do with his hands. You’re already occupied, with two cocks in each hole. The only thing left it’s your mouth that gasps and moans like a bitch in heat, “don’t tell me you’re a virgin.” This time it’s Zhongli who mocks him, and Xiao hates that he likes this. Despises the looming gripping feeling that punches its way up his spine. It’s like he’s starving. A voracious endless hunger looming inside the pit of his stomach, growling out. It’s so easy to just yank down his pants and bring his hot throbbing cock to your lips.

“Shut up.” He murmurs, entranced with how you eye his cock, drool slipping from your mouth. You look up at him with such a teary and beautiful expression that he feels himself break. Your mouth is parted and panting, pink tongue dancing along the palate of your wet throat, practically begging for him to shove himself down your esophagus. And he does just that, the bulging head getting pushed on your lips. The width of it makes your cheeks puff out and gag. Your garble around him, and for the first time - Xiao understands.

He gets it now. Why mortals do this, why they love it so much, why they would risk love and life and dignity for it - he gets it. The way the gummy lining of your soft throat hugs and kisses the tip of his cock, makes his knees buckle. The other two men are slightly snickering at the starstruck face of awe that dances along the yaksha’s face, but he doesn’t even care.

“Holy- ohmygod.” He groans, the way you get rocked back and forth from the brutal pounding makes your head bob slightly on his length. Xiao grips the back of your neck. Doesn’t know whether to slam you down to the hilt or let the natural motion guck around him.

The feeling of him makes you slicker, and the two men brutally pounding up into you use it to their advantage. Taking hold of your plush skin and squeezing, pinching at the doughy flesh of your waist and hips. Cupping your tits and pushing them together, drooling all over your neck and shoulders. Dribbling sticky saliva down your collarbone.

The culmination of it all makes you clamp down on both of them. Gummy walls sucking them into the hilt as you cum for thr umpteeth time that evening. Feeling Zhongli groan, a loud “my god, so fucking tight,” and still his working hips, rolling them up as he pumps you full. And it triggers Childe’s orgasm, the sensation of both holes being stuffed and pumped full has you seeing visions.

“Fuck- oh fuck, cumming-“ Xiao can’t help the stutter in his thrusts as he slams down your throat, bruising the top of your mouth as he spills down it. It’s thick and makes you choke, gulping down his cum as he hissed through his teeth and pushes a hand on your forehead to try and work through his orgasm.

It’s like a built-up pressure, adrenaline-pumping, and heart-pounding. Like a swarm of hornets raging inside a caged animal, the ringing buzz is almost too much to handle. Xiao is pure desperation, scorching pungent bitter magma gushing down your trachea. Roasting every bare sliver of flesh, it burned. He felt like pure hot liquid on your bones and you envied it. You desired it more than you should.

And he slips from your mouth with a groan, watching how you shimmy your tired hips on the laps of the other two men. Panting as he pets the side of your face. You’re exhausted, can feel the sticky mess of cum dripping from both holes. Staining your inner thighs and pooling. The faint twitches of your clit in the aftershocks have you feeling like you’re buzzing. Thighs trembling and fingers jolting everytime they graze too close.

“Whaddya think?” Childe huffs with a laugh, circling his arms around your waist as he drags you forward on his lap. “Was she as good as you hoped?” He murmurs, nipping at your neck as you try to realign your mind. Secretly hoping the two adepti say yes.

“Even better.” They both mumble, and you hitch a breath when you feel Zhongli’s cock twitch behind you and Xiao reaches a hand down to circle your wrist.

“Looks like they still want more, babydoll. I hope you’re not tired yet, we still have to show them what they’re missing.”

Tags: @diamond-3 @tkooooop @amazinglynico @diluch @vickyvalentine @amosthirst

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zchlongli · 3 months

Note

Can I request a yandere Diluc smut? With the use of aphrodisac or somnophilia if possible 🙏🏻

Thanks for requesting!

Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Somnophilia, Non-Con, AFAB body, Dirty Thoughts, Creampie, Fingering), Kidnapping

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Sinking his cock into you was as if you delivered him from all the regrets and wrongdoings in his life in one meager dip.

He never let it come this far before, never went against what he thought was justified. But that was all before he experienced your warmth wrapping around his cock. Before he found you half uncovered from your blanket, your nightgown slid upwards to expose the supple flesh of your ass to him. It seemed so long ago, even if it had just been a few minutes that he let his fingertips glide over the curve of your cheeks, his self-restraint hanging on a thin thread with his cock impatiently throbbing under the tight pants he wore. But when he explored further, careful not to wake you with one hand between your thighs, prying through your soft folds giving way to him, all the restraint simply... snapped.

Now, even this seemed justified in his eyes.

Diluc never knew how adorable the sound of your moans and whines was. How beautiful you could wind your body while he slid his fingers under the fabric of your panties and inside you, joint after joint, yearning to give you the pleasure you deserved. The pleasure he wanted you to have. For years he'd been keeping you under his roof, never knowing the sweetness of your cunt until now, licking it off his fingertips, pupils dilating as if he was becoming addicted after just one taste of you.

All this time, he tried to keep you safe and ensured no harm came to you. He fed you, clothed you, bought you everything you could wish for, and all he ever received was disdain and ill-spoken words thrown at his head. Until now, Diluc accepted it with no resistance. If he ignored your unhappiness, he could go on with his day despite having a heavy heart beating and yearning for you in his chest, so he never allowed himself to linger when you so clearly didn't want him. But had he known the sweetness awaiting him, he might have been more assertive in getting between your thighs, drinking from the source of life and pleasuring you at the same time.

This new book he got you was his way of worming himself back into your life, but when he went to give it to you, you had already fallen asleep. The coldest of cold shoulders, but your ass on display made him into a simple man with simple desires. If you'd allow him, he'd worship you, head to toe, with his body and soul. Diluc always felt like it was never the right time to bring it up, but whenever he had the chance to see you, it was all he could think about.

And there you were, accessible, asleep, and so fucking welcoming.

Because he spent so little quality time with you, where you weren't shouting, weren't cursing him, he never had a chance to ask about your experiences and what you liked in the bedroom. But after pumping his fingers in and out of you, nervously checking for signs of you waking up while he tested out the flowing waters of your cunt, it had been so easy to slip his rock-hard cock into you. Biting his lip, he watched as it disappeared inside you, a hint of anxiety in his gaze as he raked it over you. Anxiety and lust. A dangerous combination that slowly but surely drove him mad.

Diluc had yet to sheath it entirely inside you when you made a small, uncomfortable huff, twisting your hips around until you laid on your stomach. He held back a groan, the urge to punch the wall manifesting in him as you clenched your pussy around his grith, eliciting a moan from you that made him lose the gentleness he had worked with until now, climbing on top of you and pushing his hips comfortably into the cushion of your ass. If that was the only push he ever did, he wanted it to be the best.

And it was fucking glorious.

You moaned into your pillow, still so innocently unaware of what power you held over Diluc, whose head fell back, his legs for once feeling weak, and his hands curling into fists with his nails drawing blood from his palms. He had dreamed about this. About the day you'd let him fuck you, worship you. Even if he had to beg on his knees for you to get him off between your thighs, he would have done it. Yet, he still could have never imagined it to feel this good.

By now, he was hovering over you as you laid face down in your bed, his cock embedded warmly in your cunt even though he tried not to put his weight on you and stir you from your sleep. If you found him like this, what would you think of him? Would you ever allow him back in your room? You already hated him, but could the respect for him sink even further?

That's not what he wanted.

And yet, what he wanted was to grip your hair and pull you up, arch your back so your ass would find its place of belonging against his hips while he plowed you mercilessly into a bubbling, crying mess. Diluc was so close to throwing the sham of the good samaritan and make you his personal fucktoy, always ready and wet for him no matter where and when he wanted you. If he had to be the bad guy, he might as well enjoy it, and there was no better way he could think of than by leaving his mark on your body.

"Do you like it?" he whispered next to your ear, feeling his hot breath bounce off your skin, and you grumbled in your sleep, his tongue lapping out to lick over your lips. Delicious. He could taste the pastries he provided you with on you, and they were almost as sweet as you. "Am I making you feel good, Darling?"

The thought of his voice echoing through your dreams only made Diluc's pace go faster at the excitement, his cock stirring up your insides eagerly. Even though he was using your body, he'd be in your deepest conscience, too, hopefully fucking you senseless in your dreams and in reality. If only he could always be on your mind, like you are on his, the thought of you in everything he does, whether it was earning money for you or fighting for your safety.

Moving his cock in and out, Diluc's voice rang out in a groan, finally allowing himself to experience this fully since you wouldn't wake up even after he began talking to you, telling you about all the naughty things he'd do to you. Ultimately, he could not bring himself to make you the fucktoy of his dreams and make you his personal hole, formed to only fit his cock and crave him every second he wasn't there to fill you. But the slowness of his pace allowed him to really, thoroughly feel every part of you wrap around his inches, welcoming him in with squelching wetness and lingering as long as possible as if your body was complaining he was pulling away.

Every time you moaned, he could feel the clenching of your core sucking him in, and though you furrowed your eyebrows, you didn't wake up. It was like heaven and hell, as Diluc found himself desperate for you to recognize what he was doing and tell him all about how good he made you feel. How he made your toes curl and hear you beg for more of what only he could give you. Declare your love between sloppy cries and needy whines, and ask to join his bed from now on, so you'd always be in his reach for whatever he needed. But perhaps he was lucky that all his training and steeling of his body worked out now, as he could gently grab your hips to quicken his pace without tearing you out of your sweet dreams. Dreams about him, he hoped. Only him, always. Illusions of a future you two would never have together.

The excitement and caution were like tingling harbingers to his orgasm. There was no way that a man craving you day and night would be able to hold out long when he was finally welcomed into the sanctuary of your cunt. Neither the heat nor the snapping of his hips helped to prolong what should have never occurred in the first place, and with your breathing ragged, too, Diluc's only wish was for you to cum as hard as he would.

Inevitably, his world was turned upside down as he plunged deep inside you, finding himself unable to pull out before feeling his jizz splurt into your depths. All he could do was hold on tight to the wall over your head, drilling his fingers into it to the point it hurt. However, Diluc couldn't feel anything besides the bliss of spilling all the pent-up need and desire for you deep inside with no caution. What happened, happened, and he'd be ready for it when the time was right.

Unless it would keep him from doing this again.

Pulling out, his cock was soaked with your mixed juices, your pussy spilling his semen without him clogging up your hole. It was a perfect sight. A rare achievement that Diluc got addicted to just as quickly as your taste and the warmth. He could barely keep his imagination from going wild, the idea of you spilling juices all over his lap after he let you ride him on his office chair, or with you dripping spill everywhere as he walked you around the house without panties, making him so fucking excited for all the possibilities. His cock gave a warning jerk as he felt himself hardening just from the thoughts, but until then, his fingers sliding up your cunt and pushing the wasted cum back inside you had to be enough.

This had to be enough.

You, asleep, looking a little disgruntled and needy after he left you high and dry like an asshole. Secretly, it made him hope you'd be so despaired and horny by the time he visited you in the morning you'd jump him just to get your sweet release. A man could dream about all the things he'd do then, all the times he'd make you cum on his tongue, fingers, and dick.

Tugging you in, Diluc planted a gentle kiss on the back of your head. His darling. His beautiful, amazing darling with a cunt so warm and alluring, it was almost harder to part with you than ever before. But he'd be back for more; that much was sure. One release wasn't nearly enough to satisfy him.

And maybe next time, he'd wake you up so you could enjoy him the same way he enjoyed you.

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zchlongli · 3 months

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Yandere Genshin man and their fav positions wit their chubby darling!

Characters used-childe-diluc-kaeya and chubby darling in that order.

Tw babes⚠️

(Yandere duh/ forced orgasm/non-con/blood/abuse/ mentions of puke but nun happens dw!/ mean:(keaya n’ childe like they-..whew/soft dom diluc🖤/ forced breeding/ and uh slight grammar issues and shit.⚠️)

……x

Childexxx

For childe, I feel like he’ll be a face down ass up kinda guy! Watching you scratch and claw at the ground in pain, as he positions his hips to hit your cervix. Hand In you hair, grip so tight you feel you’ll be bald soon, and he loves it. Watching you try and reach a hand back to tell him to stop-or, AT LEAST slow down, but he just tightens his grip on your plump hip and hair. pulling your neck back just to slap your face hard into the ground forcing you to black out some as he thrust like a mad man into your pussy. It’s almost insulting when you cream all over his dick And he relishes the fact that you try and plead with blood dripping down your nose from the face splat earlier.

“Shhh..I’m-I’m almost done~” he’d coo at you, leaning close to you from behind and picking up speed, kissing along your soft neck and bitting your shoulders. Your numb and over stimulated, but he’s not done fucking you yet. He’s so close but so far, but watching you try and fight the forced orgasm gets him going enough to-

….

He’s cumming deep and it’s soo much,,, he’s grunting and shaking as he falls on top of u from behind. Your legs shake as u give into gravity and the weight on your back, falling on your tummy. You feel his seed drip out and you could die right there and then, when he took two fingers and shoved them in you. “C-can’t let that spill…” he says as he pumps his finger into your sore and used hole.

Dilucxxx

Now for diluc, I feel he’d be a missionary kinda dude! Diluc is so caring and considerate, Constantly asking if he’s to much or if he’s to slow, though it wouldn’t be much you could say, bc of the Gag in your mouth. He’s knows your not comfortable wit him yet, but he can’t wait! He has needs too, And if that means undressing you, binding your hands to your chest and hiking your legs up, so he can fuck you into submission *nicely* he’d do it.

He’d be so soft at first, doing some foreplay to get you ready to take him. which only resorted with you avoiding eye contact as he fingered you slowly. You blink your tears away , not wanting to seem completely vulnerable-that is until he pauses and stands up…pulling his pants down,then unbuttoning his shirt that the tears fall from fear and unwanted anticipation.

You try and beg him thru muffled screams. “No!” “Please I’m Sorry”, he catches all of em too, as he positioned himself at your entrance. You’d try and push at his chest with your constricted hands, but he just pulls the Gag down to catch u in a quick kiss. Distracting you from him pulling his hips back and slamming into you. You Yelp and try scooting backwards, but to no avail-He just sticks his tongue in your mouth as he thrust slowly, trying to “ease” you into it,,,but that becomes much harder when u start to tighten up around him.

So He just takes that as compliance and speeds up backing up some to grab your thick legs and push them towards your chest. He’s sees your not ready for this position yet, but he knows u like it as much as he does From the way you squeeze him in and claw at his chest…but for a second he does slow down a lil when he sees you shake, Your eyes filled wit hot tears and face that looked confused with pleasure/pain…..

He leans in whispering in your ear that he loves only you. Kissing your tears away, and continuing the kisses down to your neck and shoulders. He’s Hoping that’ll calm you down, your his and he’s yours…there’s no need to push him away. You body likes it and thas all the evidence he’s needs to pick up speed once more. Wet sounds, skin mushing tgt sounds/// It feels you with embarrassment, but for him the wetter you get the more your getting accustomed to his size. Your soft sniffling moans and his deep exhaled grunts fill the room. It’s only then when he feels you cum is his signal to cum as well. So he pushes himself in to you, hiking your legs up even higher to hit that spot again. Your milking him,, he can feel it and so can you when he fucks his cum so deep into your womb-ur astonished and ashamed the way he bucked his hips one last time causing you to grunt from the pressure.

The heavy breathing and sniffing pulls him from his high, as your legs fall from his grasp onto the sweat soaked bed. He’s smiling at you though, untying your hand and unbuckling the gag. He so proud of you,,,kisses you again as you lay there almost unresponsive.

Kaeyaxxx

Now, for kaeya-definitely a deep throat man. As much as he LOVES your pussy he rather see you gagging on his Dick more than anything. It’s almost a simple pleasure for him, but it’s just right.

Coming back home from a long day with the nights, just to see you sitting in your room staring at the wall. Its so cute how you gasp when he walks in greeting you, But it’s even cuter how you try and push him away from your face with His dick hard in his hand. Your mumbling to him to “stop let you breathe”, but he can’t help BUT place his strong hand behind your head and yank! Causing you to Yelp, which gives him enough time to stick his Dick in your mouth.

He does warn you to not to bite, tho. “remember what happened last time, hmm?” He jest, smiling wide “Don’t try it, okay?” He says bucking his hips into your mouth. He’s so turned on from the way you try and pull back to the way you rub you fluffy thighs tgt.

He knows your a sick freak and gets off to this as much as he does, But it only gets worse from there. He’s pulling your head, bobbing you up and down, your slob covering all over his cock, Fresh hot tears pooling In your eyes and down your cheeks. You crying hard and mumbling, but the vibrations makes his dick twitch-and he cums. But he’s not done!

He forces himself even deeper into your mouth, dick hitting the back of your throat as his fucks your face senseless. He’s pinching your nose and pulling you closer to the base of his cock. his freshly trimmed hairs pushing against your upper lip and covered nose, as you choke and gag. His cum leaking to the sides of your mouth, whilst you grab and hit at his legs to let you go.

He’s just smiling tho, his face flushed as much as yours, bitting his lip as he thrusts. He’s just watching you wail on him in hopes he lets up, but he’s so fucked out he leans his head back and bucks so hard you nearly puke and he cums, again. So much cum is in your mouth, on your tongue and dripping onto the ground. But he just sighs out…

“Tsk,,,you have to clean me up and the floor now” he says slapping his cum leaking dick on your cheek. You try pulling away so he lets you fall back from him, You’re grasping and clutching your chest while he’s still hard. Glancing down to the floor almost fainting from the Loss of air before, You focusing in on the cum that dripped beneath him And On your shirt. He’s chuckling at you, your legs Trimble as you back away..but oh, he wasn’t done and neither were u.

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zchlongli · 3 months

Note

MORE TOJI! MORE JJK! MORE YANDERE! MORE KIDNAPPED DARLING! MORE SMUT!

Fushiguro Toji

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, fem!reader

He always mounts you with a cocky grin that has you feeling jumpy – loins weak, knees shaking under the threat of his big hands as he grabs your thighs and places himself between them. Cock bobbing proudly against the black ant trail running towards his navel, sturdy and veined just like much of the tough muscle lining his arms and chest.

Your cunt’s tingly and wet just at sight – cheeks warm and mouth watery – a soundless gasp weak in your throat when you feel the bed sink, dipping beneath his weight as he shuffles close – skin to skin.

You’re on your back, belly-up and exposed, while he bears down on you like a big mouth of teeth tearing up prey. One hand cupping your breasts with a firmness you don’t know whether to excuse with horny curiosity or possessiveness – or just plain dominance. Maybe a mix of all three. All you know is that it feels good when he grabs into the soft flesh, rubbing the nipple between gritty fingers – making you whine.

His other hand holds you down by the neck – lips nipping your cheek with hot breaths – clammy where your thighs overlap each other as he bullies himself inside your taut heat slowly until he’s balls-deep. You suck in a breath at the sting, curling your toes, and he hisses at the tightness, setting the pace with a groan on every heavy thrust.

Your hands, tied above you, reach before they clench and strain, with nails leaving crescent indents in your palms each time your hips buck in response – feeling him nudge right and tight against your womb, right there against your sweet spot – making your walls ripple and pulse around his thick shaft as your cunt swallows him up – puffy pussylips kissing his base with a wet lewd shlick on every deep stroke. It all drives him insane – goading him to try and go deeper.

You cry at the lounges, feeling stormed each time he takes a dive and robbed each time he pulls back – moaning with girlish squeals right at his ear where he bears a toothy smirk, knowing he’s driving you over the edge.

You pant, dewy-faced and flushed from your head down to your toes as he lifts your legs up over his shoulders and folds you right in half – thighs pressed neatly against your chest. He lets out a pleased sigh at how tight you choke under the new weight – seizing up around his shaft like a clenched fist, desperately milking him.

He knows you’re trying to say something silly like slow down, but all he can hear is a pitiful whine of his name and it just sets him off like nothing else as he pounds into you – hips slapping against your ass – going deep and even deeper, running you through at a merciless pace you’re left with nothing but high-pitched squeals as you cum around his veined shaft and shake from the intensity while he continues like nothing’s happened, fucking you through it till you feel another one forming.

You’re breathless when he gathers your thighs tight and hugs them in his thick arms, your feet in the air as he lifts until only your back is against the bed. He’s so deep you think he’s rearranging organs to make space for himself – knocking ribs as he fucks your hole into a stretched-out dripping mess. Another knot tightens and snaps at the force, rushing your body – leaving you feeling numb and warm while he continues.

His face cuddles your calf, sweat dripping down his temple, giving the skin a soft bite after a sloppy kiss – slowing down only to drive in as far as he can to hold himself there – steady and deep.

You moan at the warmth as he shoots thick ropes into your belly, and he releases a sigh while hugging your thighs a little tighter to finish with the last drops.

When he’s done, he rests his head on your breasts – raven hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead.

He yawns and sucks the inside of his cheek – pleased, eyes watery with sleep before shortly beginning to snore.

tip-jar: Kofi

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zchlongli · 3 months

Text

𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐢𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 — 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), in bloom!reader, au is about sex work, mentioned somnophilia, neck grip, rough sex, creampie, mindbreak, womb flooding, size kink, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ the inspiration behind hana!reader herself, miss guro is the one to thank for this fic. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

“What’s the matter, little girl? Getting sleepy? Am I wearing you out?”

Jinkuro was crooning in your ear as he ruts into you, pinning your much smaller frame against the bedding underneath you. the soft sheets were already drenched in the sweat mixture you shared with your benefactor, doing little to muffle your flustered whimpers when his large hands wrapped around your waist. he interlocked his fingers at your belly, feeling that familiar bulge in the shape of his cock as he rammed himself home, and used his strong grip on you to jerk you backwards to meet his fervent thrusting. it was all too overwhelming, so you’d slumped your upper half forward, burying your heated cheeks in the pillows as you squealed and gushed.

a pathetic, shy half a nod is what you can muster, along with a string of needy pleas. it was difficult to focus on an answer with Jinkuro in your guts, plowing deep and hard.

“Aw, my hana, can’t even hold her cute, little eyes open anymore.” he coos, deviously. you can feel one of his hands snaking upwards, creeping between your breasts in the warm ocean of bedsheets, “But you’re the one that woke me up, remember sweetheart? You’re the one that wanted my cock so badly you couldn’t wait until morning. Isn’t that right?” you manage another nod before you feel his fingers wrap around your throat. he wouldn’t dare squeeze too hard, but he pulls you from your slump on the floor with the leverage provided by his new grip.

“L—Lord Jinkuro..!” you gasp, eyes widening as you’re perched on your knees, but you can’t find the strength to reach up and hold on to his arms, your own hands flopping limp at your side as he pounds his hips into you at this new angle, “t—that—!!”

you wanted to tell him how good it felt to get ruined from this angle, the sensation of one hand digging into your soft belly while the other cradles your neck, trapping you against his bestial fucking, but you couldn’t form the words. you couldn’t do anything but listen to the sound of his wet skin slapping against yours, and the way your cunt squelched as you took him in.

“I’ll be damned, little one, you really are getting all cute and dizzy, aren’t you?” you can feel his lips on your cheek, smearing tender kisses over the heat there, an affectionate juxtaposition to the way he decimates your poor, weak body. your eyes struggle to focus on him, bouncing haplessly against his movements, impaled and stretched by his throbbing cock. “Hmm, I like that cute look, watching your eyes roll back and your mouth hang open as you take every inch of my big cock in your itty bitty tummy. Does it feel so good? Is it putting you to sleep, just like a sweet little lullaby?” Jinkuro grunts, snorting through flared nostrils, feeling you tighten up with each syllable spoken, “Ah, haha, oh god baby, you may be cockdrunk, but you’re still so fucking tight.” he emphasizes the word by giving your throat a gentle squeeze, a growl of pure pleasure rumbling in his throat. “Yes, little girl, you like this a little too much, don’t you? Being impaled on my cock, fucked until you can’t even lift a finger to stop me… good girl, good baby,” Jinkuro pants like a wild animal, the fingers on your belly seeming to shape around the bulging imprint of his cock on your belly and rub it back and forth, using your body to jerk himself off.

“Haaaa!! Lord J— Jinkuro!!” your head falls back against his chest, lolling around the expanse of it, your eyes rolling behind your fluttery lids. you wanted so desperately to look up at him, to see the dusky tint of lust on his cheeks, and the way sweat stuck his unruly bangs to his forehead, dampening his mauve hair to a color rivaling maroon. if you caught a peek of his bedroom eyes, you’d be able to see that they were almost black— pupils blown out with nothing but unbridled ecstasy. but you couldn’t force your eyes to open. even if you could, they were glazing over to the point of your vision blurring, you knew that. it felt too good for you, you were going crazy.

“Keep calling for me, little girl,” Jinkuro moans, kissing your forehead. his tongue drags along the sweat-shiny skin, tracing his name as if branding you as his own, “I love that little sound, so needy and all for me! Tell me, pretty baby, are you going to cum for me?”

yes.

you couldn’t say it in time, because your cunt was already clenching, tightening around his cock. you could swear that you were so tight that he couldn’t pull out, even if he wanted to, but you know he didn’t. as soon as you started to spasm, coming unraveled in his arms, he gripped you even tighter, and pounded into you harder— demanding your orgasm lasts as long as he could draw it out, until you’re screaming for him, tears on your face. the intensity of it overwhelming you all at once.

“That’s it, baby hana!” Jinkuro cries out in a rough bark of euphoria, his thick cock twitching deep in your belly, “Give me all of it, little baby! I’m going to give you all of me, too!”

and he does.

that’s all the warning you’re given before your belly starts to swell, spurt after warm, gooey spurt filling your insides. you gurgle a happy whimper at the familiar sensation of Jinkuro cumming inside you; that deliciously full ache that only he could deliver. he breathes, ragged, against your forehead, before pushing you forward, laying all of his weight against your back, his hips still bucking with erratic, aftershocks, thrusting deep and stuttered, as if trying to inject his release directly into your womb. each time, his swollen tip rubs against your cervix, you mewl and smear your face into the bedsheets, writhing underneath him until he finally breathes heavily and forces himself out of your trembling cunt.

the subtle drooling of his cum leaking out of you always felt so dirty, but you were addicted to it, whining for him even as your hole twitches and throbs, and you try to catch your breath, every muscle in your body on fire.

“There’s my pretty, pretty girl…” Jinkuro purrs, sitting back on his knees. one hand resting on your rump, his long digits spread your slick folds, and he admires the way he’s stretched your little hole, watching how she starts to close back up, your elasticity always aweing him. “Nice and fucked out. Happy now?”

you nod with a sheepish whimper.

Jinkuro chuckles, “Can you still talk, sweetheart?”

you shake your head this time, and he laughs louder— hoarse and pleased as he slides his fingers into your hole, feeling how frantic your walls flutter about him. “I think you’ll make this little mistake of waking me up with your mouth on my cock a lot more often now that you know what consequences await you.”

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zchlongli · 3 months

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Gojo Satoru x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, fantasy au

Thinking about hunter Gojo and the pretty little nymph darling that gets herself snared in one of his traps.

You can’t get your poor leg loose, having twisted your ankle in your fall to the ground – something’s wrong with your wing too, you can feel it – the thin network’s been folded, almost broken – so even if you did manage getting loose, you wouldn’t be able to fly away.

Branches snap around you along the crunch of old leaves – and your heart’s beating out of your chest in fear of it – knowing something large and dangerous is not far behind, that whoever set the trap is not something that wishes you well.

“You’re not a rabbit.” The man says, having crept in close before you’d even heard him approach – crouching in front of you with a hunter's grace. Hawk-eyes ice-blue and piercing, hair as white as pure snow.

He’s got three daggers sleaved in his belt – a fillet knife, a gutting knife, and a larger one you imagine is meant to slice throats. He doesn’t carry a sword like most men but has a bow and sack of arrows slung on his back. Otherwise, dressed lightly – brown leather boots, brown slacks, and a blue cotton shirt. You could have mistaken him for a woodland elf if it weren’t for the thick stench of man.

“Eating creatures from the holy forest is forbidden.” You snip, despite your wide eyes and the wobble of fear evident on your lip.

He only smiles at the quip, a grin like a predator humored by prey. “You wouldn’t tell a wolf not to hunt.”

He stalks you, leaning in closer, and you try shuffling away – but the movement only makes you wince.

“I’m just another hungry animal…”

Rope gnaws into your fine skin while his breath puffs hot and dewy on your face.

“And tonight… seems lady luck has favored me once again.”

He gags you and ties you further up before redoing his snare for the next unlucky creature – then carries you over his shoulder until he’s dropping you down on a bed of furs.

Your skin flushes with goosebumps at the thought of being skinned the same way – mouthing a little prayer around the cloth he’s split your teeth and lips with. He’s cut trees down as well; you hear their pitiful screams when he lights a fire with their bodies. You mourn them, too.

At his full height, the man must be two heads taller than any male nymph you’ve ever seen and at least three heads taller than you. You hope you’re enough to satisfy him tonight, to spare the forest of further bloodshed.

You shiver and sniffle when he starts prepping you – removing your clothes and groping your tender, fleshy places with a strength you’re not used to – hands large and crass – kneading you like dough – probably to assess the quality of your meat. He has a smile on his face while at it.

Humans make you sick – to think he’s planning on roasting then eating you despite the soul fueling your spirit and the beating heart in your chest. But you’ve long known that all death but their own matters little to them – they don’t feel the same way nymphs do – they don’t regard life with the same respect they’ve donned themselves. It must be a sad and lonely existence, you think. It even makes you feel a little sorry for him.

You yelp when his gritty fingers brush over your slit – shimmying when he lowers his mouth down to the same place. Oh God – does he plan on eating you raw? While your body’s still hot and pumping blood?

But the bite never comes – not yet eating but tasting it would seem – licking and slurping and sucking on you.

He takes his shirt off. Probably to avoid spilling on it, you think.

You don’t really understand what’s going on until he’s got his fat manhood pointed toward your kernel-sized hole. Eyes wide as he splits you apart slowly and unabashedly – as though it isn't as deviant as a dog mating a cat – sinking in inch after meaty inch.

You whimper at the stretch – wincing when the plush mushroom-shaped head grinds against your cervix.

It doesn’t fit more than halfway, but that doesn’t seem to bother him – rolling his head back with a rusty groan, even with just the tip gaining purchase within you – pounding into you like a beast in his rut.

“What's the matter, pretty nymph? Did you think I was gonna eat you?” He laughs, bearing over you – his hands steadying your hips to meet his sharp thrust – each hit deeper than the last. “I’m the only hunter in this forest; I can eat what I want when I want – but eating you?” He scoffed and snickered. “That would just be a waste.”

The blood on his breath makes you wrinkle your nose – squeezing your eyes shut as his tongue sweeps up the tear streaks on your cheek.

“My stomach’s already full. Time to empty my balls.”

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zchlongli · 4 months

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⸸ Savior ⸸

Satan x Fem! Reader (female presenting)

🔞 NSFW. Minors DNI.🔞

Warnings: rough penetration, semi-conciousness, language

AN: Just a little brainrot I've had cookin' in my head and decided to share with the class. As per usual, please pardon any grammatical errors.

That familiar pain. The burning ache.

‘Not again’

You look to your side toward Satan in desperation as your stride slows, your lungs yearning to take unimpeded breaths of air but each time you breath in, it's as if you're inhaling needles and foreign ozone.

“S-satan..” You croak, hastily seeking his attention, but the attentive king had already noticed. With no Sitri and Ppyong present, the king couldn't be happier. But not so much knowing this phenomenon plagues you and causes you pain. Pain not inflicted by his own hands, that is.

“Your room. Now” He commands with a knowing smile.

He grabs your hand, you shut your eyes, desperately trying to conjure up the familiar space, but alas, your thoughts are repeatedly interrupted by panic. You simply can not take in a good enough breath to maintain your train of thought.

“Y/n, hurry” Satan's stern voice presses. He grips your shoulders, noting the tears pricking your eyes when you open them in panic once again.

“c-can’t” you inhale as sharply as you can to gather any air that would make it through.

You claw at your throat with one hand while holding his forearm with the other in a silent cry for help.

“Shit” Satan frowns, then scans the area quickly. Most buildings are dilapidated and have fallen to ruin. ‘Damn angels’ he thinks, dragging you further down the deserted street in hopes of finding a space untouched by violence. If he had it his way, he'd fuck you where you stood, but that was reckless.

You continue to take in short puffs of air, wheezing now, nearly losing your footing.

Satan steadies you with a protective grip on your forearm, and when you both come to a stop near a darkened alley, he makes an executive decision.

“Fuck it”

It'll have to do.

It's dark and dank. Musty with the smell of dry rotted wood and moldy, wet brick. A stark contrast to the evening's inviting and dusky setting sun outside of the alley. Satan drags you in deeper, avoiding a few leaky pipes, debris, and puddles, continuously on alert to be sure no angels are on your heels.

Once the man is satisfied with a spot closest to a dead-end, the king turns and graces you with one of his signature kisses without hesitation. In the back of his mind, he's unsure if the transfer of energy will work without the proper head space, but right now there's no time to hypothesize.

His kiss deepens when a pained whimper escapes your lips.

He needs to hurry, less he lose his favorite human.

Through your dazed expression you feel the cold chill and rough surface of something hard pressed to your back.

“I've got you…” He murmurs against your lips and presses you closer against the wall, quickly reaching down to undo and slip your bottoms from your hips, the tell tale sound of a belt buckle and zipper of his jumpsuit follows after. Fabric now left to pool at both your feet.

Even in dire times, his human was still beautiful.

With his boxers at his hips, the king hoists you up by the ass, pressing against you, his dick now free and already impossibly hard knowing your most precious space is currently his for the taking.

Using the wall to keep you sandwiched against his broad chest, Satan pistons your pussy without warm-up or warning; relishing in the tight squeeze and slowly moistening flesh fighting to adjust to the intrusion. He'll apologize later…maybe.

“Argh!” A strangled cry escapes your throat despite the innate lack of air, to which a hand comes down over your mouth to quickly muffle the sounds, forcing you to attempt harsh breaths through your nose.

“Easy, little lamb. You don't want those creatures to interrupt our fun, do you?” he offers quietly.

The only response he receives comes in the form of whimpers each time he re-enters, those red eyes keeping you locked in a dazed trance.

The demon thrusts harshly upward, forgoing a lazy pace and opting for one that's sure to leave your insides bruised. His large hand grips your ass, while his other moves from your mouth to hold your thigh, guiding you up and down.

While the blooming pleasure feels incredible, it's nearly drowned out by your lack of air supply. The energy isn't being absorbed fast enough and your vision starts to go dim. You claw at Satan's shoulder, breaking skin in an attempt to stay grounded and push through the fog, but the tightness in your chest is nearly unbearable.

“Stay with me, y/n. Fuck…you feel so good…That's right, abuse my flesh. Use me!” Satan muses through clenched teeth and pushes in deeper, digging his nails into the soft fat of your ass.

Your body feels like jello. You feel as though you're underwater. Your eyes begin to roll, practically a limp, play-thing in the demon's arms, and it only spurs him on.

The demon shifts his hips in a way that manages to prod against a more sensitive spot deep within your pussy, pushing out another strangled cry from your near empty lungs. His lips connect with yours again to swallow the sound.

“Look at my little human. At the presepist of death, yet drunk off the delicious burn of pleasure…” he coos near your jaw as it goes slack in a silent scream. Your head weightlessly pulls to the side just a bit, only to be yanked back upright abruptly by the chin.

“Look at me, y/n. Hey…HEY. Focus” he taps your cheek a bit rougher than intended, but it brings your fucked out, panicked eyes back to his face.

God, you were gorgeous.

Terror and bliss playing tug of war with your features, and his heart. Fervent groans of both pain and ecstacy continuously escaping your throat. He wished he could take a picture. To freeze the expression on your face in time.

To show you…to tease you…

To piss you off.

The thought of your rage upon seeing yourself in such a vulnerable state of disarray had the demon's eyes crossing slightly, tongue lapping out and dripping with saliva into the space between your bodies. His dick engorged further as he envisioned the twisted, raw anger in your words as you scolded him for his behavior.

A bit of liquid dripped down the side of his face and over his cheek. He licked it away greedily when it reached his lips; the taste salty and familiar - his horns were leaking. He felt heavy against your walls, his balls clapped rhythmically against your ass cheeks to the beat of each relentless plunge within. You were so wet around him, for him, and it only increased the faster he moved. That's a good thing. It meant you were still alive. You were still his.

Despite your slowly deteriorating state, the king could feel the needy squeeze of your pussy keeping him locked deep inside - you were close.

“Just like that.” he breathes, brows creased in concentration.

The muscles of Satan's ass flexed and relaxed, forcing you upward in his grip.

The darkness that clouded your vision remained, but the familiar burn in your core was smoldering - growing.

“S-satan” you manage to croak again, barely above a whisper. You held on to the wefts of hair on his shoulders like anchors with what little strength you had, managing to catch the glimmer of two crimson, half lidded eyes boring into your face through the glaze clouding your vision.

“Cum for me, little lamb. Let me be your savior. Pray to me. Let me be you God” He grinned above you, face flushed red and wild.

The feeling was damn near torture. Being tugged back and forth between consciousness and a mental, black void that threatened to swallow you whole, but it did not extinguish the growing flame in your gut, nay, it pushed you further; a feeling akin to a taut rubber band.

Satan set a punishing rhythm then, the sound of wet flesh colliding together bounced off the walls around you both. His hips began to sputter, his thrusts slowed to harsh grinding where the tight curls of his pubic hair rubbed deliciously against your throbbing clit.

“S-satan…I-!”

Your only warning from the demon was a drawn-out grunt that shook his body and his teeth coming down to latch onto your shoulder to muffle his own sounds.

The moment the proverbial rubber band snapped was the moment an orgasm so forceful, so earth shattering, rocked through your arched body, and set your senses alight. A rush of hot warmth coats your insides simultaneously, and color bursts forth into your vision; air once again floods your lungs with the deepest of breaths.

In the few moments following, the only thing you remembered was a gentle hand resting on your cheek and the words 'sleep now' being uttered before your world went black.

⸸⸸⸸⸸

“You did so well. But now you need rest” The king had you dressed, as best as he could anyways, and in his arms bridal style heading for home.

Although the transfer worked and he managed to save you, it was hard to ignore the small sense of dread that bottomed out in his stomach seeing you in distress.

The further he walked, cradling your body against his, your breaths now even, he contemplated.

In the beginning, the possessiveness he felt for you had been brought on by territorial instincts nurtured by your connection to Solomon, but the longer he spent time with you, his idea of who you were had started to change.

You were interesting for many reasons, reasons he couldn't quite put his finger on, and both Ppyong and Sitri had taken a liking to you as well, though in a way that felt completely different from Solomon's time in hell.

Did that make him…happy? It's been a long time since he felt an ounce of happiness, depression was unkind like that. But you. Your presence had started to fan those flames. The thought brought a small smile to his face.

“What are you doing to me, y/n?” He asks quietly, sweeping his eyes over your relaxed, sleeping face. An inkling of warmth tingling in his chest.

Satan wasn't sure what was going on, but in that moment, he vowed to be there when you needed him. To stay by your side and protect you.

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zchlongli · 4 months

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Didn’t know he was so… bendy

And he’s just begging to be pegged

#took a minute for my brain to realise they were railing us #i blame the cropping #dumb doodles #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb #whb beelzebub #whb leviathan

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zchlongli · 4 months

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He's Always Watching

RaphaelxReader | Explicit/Mature/Minors DNI | Words: 1300k | TW://dubcon

He’s always watching.

That’s what your parents warned you about while growing up and you never bothered to listen. Because who exactly was watching as you did what pleased you? How could anything feel this good and be so bad?

Another day as normal, the door closing behind you as you deeply exhale and throw your bag down on the floor. Work had kicked your ass and it was time to unwind, and what better way than to boost your brain with serotonin.

Not bothering to make it to your bedroom you choose the couch, pants off and caring not that you haven’t had a chance to shower. You could wait until after, this couldn’t.

You decide to try and focus on your chosen stimulus instead of wasting time scrolling through porn, remembering that awkward encounter with your co-worker that left you hot and bothered. Today your body was unusually sensitive, the moment your palm hits your sex, your hips buck forward. It’s just you, the sound of your bated breaths, and the white noise of the appliances in your home.

But then...

The soft fluttering of wings comes across your ears. It's hard to ignore, given it's so quiet in your house right now. Had another bird gotten stuck in the walls somewhere? You've bitched to your landlord to cover that hole hundreds of times. The sound starts up again and now you're certain it's what you expected.

Once again...

You return to the nagging feeling below your waist, your palm and fingers getting to work again as you ignore the soft landing of footsteps behind you. The shuffle of bare feet that make their way across the floor, a pair of scarred, pale hands reaching for your shoulders as you continue to bring yourself to ecstasy.

It's sweet...the smell of sin...

Your eyes widen as your hand stops moving. Turning quickly, your eyes meet with one half lidded red eye, the other covered with an eye patch as the intruder's blonde tresses hang over your frightened face. You can't move, you're half naked on your couch, hands sticky with your arousal, and you can't move a muscle.

Don't stop because I'm here.

His voice is rough, but soft and fills your ears with a sense of excitement and anxiety. You can only stare as he takes your hand and licks the taste of you off it, groaning as he suckles your fingers.

Your sin tastes so sweet, so filthy, give me more.

There was a strange man in your home, dressed in all white, requesting more of your juices on his tongue. A normal reaction would be to scream, get away from him, and call the police. But you remember you locked your front door, there was no way he could have gotten inside, unless.

Are you real?

Your question makes him laugh, it fills the room with a sinister aura, mocking such words that came from you.

You ask me, and yet my filthy little human...you still have your legs open, presenting yourself to me.

He was correct, your sex was out in the open, that nagging feeling still pulsing in your core. This stranger scared you, but he felt so familiar. Who was he?

I could no longer hold back. On days like this, I can smell you. Your pungent aroma that made my insides boil. My desire to stir. My temptation to waver. You knew, didn't you? That I would eventually come.

He walks over to the front of you, kneeling down on his knees and spreading your legs wider. His gaze is that of hunger, a desire that felt unreal. He was going to take what he wanted from you.

His tongue lashes out and traces slowly on your thigh, it feels like a hot knife against your skin but there's no lingering pain. You're unsure if you want his tongue against the delicate flesh of your sex, but before you say anything, his lips reach the most sensitive part of you, kissing and licking against it.

The immediate shock hits you like a wave. You'd never felt anything like this. His lips were so soft, his tongue hot and wet, the combination of both sent you on an instant high. You couldn't help but let out such a loud, unhinged sound from your throat that your fingers cling to the fabric of the couch.

More....more....

He smirks and surrounds your parts with his mouth, his saliva drooling from the sides of his lips down his chin. The combination of that plus your juices creates a mess on your thighs, you remain speechless only making unrecognizable noises that you swear only an animal could replicate.

He pulls back with a loud and wet 'pop' watching you twitch and tremble as you lose the battle to your first orgasm, your fluids coming forth and gushing all over the cushion. He chuckles and cracks his fingers, tracing your entrance before inserting two of them inside of you.

Tears flow down your face, another orgasm building up quicker than you ever experienced. This wasn't real, it couldn't be real. How could it be?

Your filth is all over my face, and my hand, and I wish somewhere else...but that will have to wait.

Did he mean? Was he planning on...

So dirty, those sounds, this smell that your body creates. You were made for me, weren't you? God's gift to me....

God? He mentioned this entity while finger fucking you so precisely that you felt like you were in a wet dream. Was he one of those cult leaders, some weird fanatic that got off on this?

You try to speak, get any words out, you had to know.

Are you a...?

He shoves his fingers deeper, curling them to hit the sweet spot inside you that cuts off your sentence.

Don't call me anything but my name...Raphael.

You meet his gaze again, the crazed, deranged stare he gives you while tracing his teeth with his tongue. Something a halo, glows brightly behind his head as he continues to thrust his hand against you. You're unable to process what you're seeing, only feel the pleasure he gives you. You can only repeat what he last said.

Raphael....

The moment his name escapes your lips your head throws back, a deep moan fills the room, whether it's from you or from him or combined. Your second orgasm is harder than the last, your hips jerking forward as more of your fluids squirt and gush out. His hand is covered, your thighs slick, his chest covered in his copious amount of drool.

Yes...my filthy whore of a human...say my name just like that.

He pulls his fingers from you dipping them in his mouth and rolling his eye into his skull. You breathe heavily, only able to watch him shiver and thrust his hips forward into the air. You see his white pants stained with his arousal.

When he fixes his gaze on you again, your body responds with a twitch. He stands and comes toward you, using the hand that was just in his mouth to trace your jaw, his thumb on your bottom lip.

I'll see you again. And next time...it won't just be my fingers or my mouth that please you.

He pulls away, and hovers in the air, his halo glowing so brightly it temporarily blinds you. In a flash, he's gone just as quickly as he showed up.

Raphael..

The name plays in your head. Over and over without fail. He was always there, always paying attention to how you touched yourself, waiting for the right moment to taste you, to get more of your sin. And now that you are aware of his existence, all you wanted was to see him again.

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zchlongli · 4 months

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ᴀɴɢᴇʟs ᴏғ sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ᴜʀᴏɢɪ & ᴋᴀʀᴀᴋᴜ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!hashira!reader, noncon, breeding kink, descriptions of blood and injuries, instant loss / bad end trope, dvp, the boys are meanies, choking, degradation, lots of cum, brief oral sex ( m! ), fingering, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 ∣ @serenesaku [ thank you so much, i hope you like it! ]

“If you drop her, our fun’s over before it even starts!” you can faintly hear Karaku harping, and your head rolls around on your neck— it feels like jelly, hardly able to support the weight of your head as it droops backwards to look up at the demon who has you in his grasp. his talons are wrapped so tightly around one of your wrists that you can see a trickle of ruby, feel it as it runs down the length of your forearm. the blood mingles with the dirt and scuff that clings to your skin as you hang there, suspended in the air by merely his claw’s grip on your arm. “Give her to me already!”

all of the muscles in your arm were on fire, sore and aching, and you felt as though the pull of your weight on the one limb had knocked it out of socket. that wasn’t the worst of your injuries, however, but most of the pain from the battle had numbed at this point, anyways.

you don’t even remember where your sword had clattered, broken and useless. wherever was, it was well out of your reach as the demon flies you higher and higher, as if planning to perch you atop the moon itself.

it had been quite the game to him already, flying you higher, and then loosening his grip to let you slip just far enough to gasp and fear the plummet, before he gripped your arm again. at this point, you were praying to whatever god could allow this to happen that they would simply kill you already and get it over with. being toyed with would’ve been scary enough, but you were Hashira, and you were supposed to win this fight. not become a demon’s marionette under the moonlight.

Urogi glances down, smirking with putrid delight as he sees the dulled, defeat-snuffed gaze as you take in your position. “Wishing I would really drop you, demon slayer?” he was mocking you, spitting the words as if they were soaked in acid. “Let you die this easily?” a low cackle bubbles up from his throat, amber eyes burning. “Not a chance.” the violent flap of his wigs send blades of cold wind through your hair and ruffles your torn uniform, you could swear the sheer force of it nicks your cheek as he swoops downward, diving towards the ground. “We’re not done playing yet!” the speed makes your head spin, but you’ve not enough energy to squirm or try to stop the impending collision, so you close your eyes, brows furrowed, and brace for impact.

it comes, but not in the way you expect. with a flick of his talons, Urogi flings you from his grasp and into Karaku’s, who laughs wickedly at the way you smack against his chest like a sack of potatoes, and then try your best to grasp his shoulders. you wanted to regain some semblance of control over yourself, find your footing, but he wasn’t having it. both fists grasp your wrists and pull them back. your knees buckle with a gasp of pain, and you’re once again supported only by a demon’s will, and his hold on your arms. you dangle there, clenching your weak fists. “‘M… going to…”

Karaku’s emerald gems light up, “You’re going to what? Kill me?” you didn’t have to nod, but you do so weakly, and he leans close. only inches from your lips, his fiery breath washes over you. you shy away from a demon for the first time in your life, letting out a soft whimper, “You’re not going to do anything, girl, but let me tell you what we’re going to do to you.”

as Karaku speaks, his lips moving and grazing your cheek the closer he gets, you feel the ground shake beneath you when Urogi lands behind you, talons cracking rocks beneath his powerful feet.

“We’re going to rip this demon killing uniform off,” Urogi’s claws work diligently to make good on his counterpart’s promise, shredding the fabric of your top, down through your pants until the black garments fall away in defeated, little strips. Karaku croons yo you, in amusement, “it’s not like it’s useful, anymore. Your demon killing days are over.” you let out a grunt of discomfort, feeling the drag of his talons against your stomach, biting at your vulnerable flesh. “But your demon serving days? Well, those have just begun.”

“— And we’ll defile your defenseless, human body.” Karaku flashes insanely sharp teeth in a daunting grin as Urogi finishes his threat, his talons grasping your thighs to hoist them up. your feet, that were dragging against the ground prior to this not sweep from the ground, and dangle helplessly as he spreads your legs. completely exposed to the one thing you were meant to hate in this world, the thing you’ve trained your whole life to kill, you felt disgusting and shameful, and your thighs twitched and fought against his strength to close. “Until it all but gives out.”

Karaku takes one look at your cunt as it’s presented to him, and a low gurgle of lust rumbles in his throat, dropping your hands to, instead, jab two fingers inside abruptly. you cry out and immediately grapple at his arm with one hand, trying to pull his hand out, while the other grabs for his horn and forehead, pushing with all your might, squirming and writhing, but you’re trapped. “Stop—!!” but Karaku’s guffawing drowns out your weak demand. his fingers are thick and rough as they pump into your unprepared core, though the rough treatment coaxes your arousal to life, encouraging you to soak his knuckles as he scissors them inside you. pressing his calloused fingertips against your inner walls, he can feel them spasm and tighten.

“Tighter than I expected,” his voice is a low, raspy growl as his fingers work relentlessly inside you, pummeling over delicate nerves. you can’t help but pant and groan, but you try to steel your glare, and push him off. “Your little Hashira buddies haven’t fucked you out yet?” his digits spread, testing the elasticity of your insides, and you moan, haplessly. “All those muscles and no brains. They promote a useless, little piece of fuck meat and don’t even take advantage?”

Urogi giggles from behind you, his lips close to your ear as he hisses. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of that.”

Karaku, using his free hand to retrieve his cock, wraps his fist around the girth and pumps it to life at the same velocity with which he finger fucks you, and his fangs peek out against his bottom lip as he bites down on it, moaning low and guttural. “I broke her down, so I want to fuck her first.”

Urogi had been taunting you, kissing at the shell of your ear, whispering threats and excitedly watching you jerk and squirm to get away from him, but when Karaku says this, he pauses. you can feel the air behind a powerful grit of his teeth, as if Karaku’s claim annoyed him. “We broke her together—“

“Shut up,” Karaku waved off his counter’s nagging, grasping his ready cock at the base and guiding between your thighs. replacing his fingers with his cock was a sudden switch, and a size difference your body wasn’t prepared for. “I’m already in.” your eyes widen, your nails scraping at his horns and his face as he forced his way inside you. your walls spasmed and fluttered around the intruder, clamping down, instead of trying to push him out, and your back arches. the movement was intended to bring you a moment of reprieve, and shove him out of you, but the curve of your body only gives him the room he needs to slide hilt deep.

“F—fuck!” you exclaim; you can’t help it. the force behind his nesting is almost too much to bear, and you grind your teeth, glaring up at him weakly, with your thighs trembling. Urogi’s claws dig into them, blood beading to the surface as you struggle. “Y—you despicable, vile… uh!!” you were just about to make your stand, demand he pull out of you or else you would find a way to kill him with your bare hands, but his hips rocked suddenly. back and forth, falling into a rough and hungry pace that had you scrambling for breath, your feet flopping in the air. “Y-you can’t…!!”

Karaku howls with pleasure, both of his hands now wrapping around your throat, instead, a wild and primal look in his wide eyes. his lips are etched into a permanent, open mouthed smile as he fucks you with reckless abandon, cackling and crowing as he does so. “Aha! It’s been such a long time since I’ve had tight, warm human cunt!” his thumbs press against your windpipe, teasing it closed until you’re clawing at his wrists, gurgling pleas to breathe. it was hard to focus on anything but the lack of oxygen, and yet the sound of your squelching and the smack of his balls against you pounded in both of your ears. “It’s good,” his tongue flicks at his teeth, his breaths coming out in ragged breaths, “the more I choke you, the tighter your cunt squeezes me!”

Urogi was smiling again, his eyes flickering down to the join of your bodies to watch Karaku’s cock slide in and out at a rapid pace. if he zeroed in, he could see your entrance clench down on him, as if to keep him anchored within you, and he chortles low, nipping at your earlobe. “It almost seems like she likes it, listen to how wet she is. Choke her harder, I want to see her cheeks turn purple.”

you shake your head, fervent, “D-don’t!!”

you didn’t want them to hear how your body betrayed you, how it spat and sputtered, grateful to be decimated with demon cock, but even that scream sounded less reluctant. your sounds were changing, twisting from protest to pleasure, and you couldn’t stop it. the tighter the demon gripped your throat, the more pleasure you derived from being taken against your will. the wetter you got.

Karaku’s brows knit together, focusing all of his energy into pounding deep, as he hissed through clamped teeth, “Cumming for you, little demon killer. Going to fill up that belly!”

you didn’t have time to process what his threat had been, because a few, forceful thrusts against your limit, his tip battering your insides, and he erupts with a wail, giving your neck one final, right squeeze that you thought for sure would crush your trachea. it doesn’t, somehow, and when his grip loosens, you choke on a massive influx of air, uttering a defeated, “N-no, not inside—“ though it was too late. you could feel his cum in your guts, much more than a human could produce, sloshing about as he continued. he didn’t pull out, or even slow his pace. dribbling white release out with every buck of his powerful hips, his climax only seemed to spur him to fuck you harder.

“Do you feel that, Hashira?” Karaku taunts, grabbing your hair at the roots to pull your head up, forcing you to stare deep into his eyes. every thrust pushes his release deeper into you, and you mewl and groan, “You’re full of demon cum.” your eyes roll around in your head when it shakes, but Karaku swipes his mouth over yours, tasting your kiss with his long, invasive tongue. “You’re my breeding bitch now.”

“Ours. We’re supposed to be sharing her, did you forget?” Urogi nagged, dropping one of your legs to free a hand. your toe scrapes against the ground, leg limply dangling, but you don’t have the energy to use it to fight back— all of your resistance Karaku had already fucked from your body. you assume, with Urogi’s shifting behind you, that he too was grabbing and readying his cock, and you groan at the thought of being handed off for this to happen again. if you had to satisfy them both, you would surely not survive this night. “Give me room.”

“She’s too tight,” Karaku barked, “give me a minute to open her up some more.”

Urogi snarls, and rubs the swollen head of his cock against the brutal fucking you’re getting, causing your eyelids to flutter as you try to look back at him. surely, he didn’t intend to force his way into the same hole at the same time?

“We’ll stretch her out together. I’m not waiting anymore, I want to break her, too.”

Urogi worms his way inside, spearing your elastic entrance and forcing you to stretch to not only accommodate Karaku’s brutality, but now Urogi’s cock, too. they were roughly the same size and shape, at least they felt that way, but the sensation of them rubbing together inside of you, bulging against your inner walls, was utterly maddening. you felt like you were being torn in half, or as if you were a rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war between the two demons. Urogi was just as eager and cruel as his counterpart, falling into a merciless rhythm opposite of Karaku, so as Karaku was retracting, Urogi was pounding deeper, keeping your limits brutalized with not a moment to recover.

it was difficult, at this point, to do anything short of blacking out. your eyes rolled around in your head, your mouth hanged open, drool leaking from the corners and mews and helpless babbling fell free. your body slumped, in between the two sturdy demons as they all but fucked right through you.

Urogi moans, much louder and huskier, breathing hot on your neck and in your ear. “She’s so much more receptive now that she’s been tenderized,” he takes a sharp inhale, his talons tickling your chin as he tilts your head back, instead, to smash his hungry lips against yours.

the kiss is wrong. rough and forceful, and you can’t fight it, so your mouth hangs open, gurgling quiet pleas for some sort of mercy. Urogi ignores them, and kisses you deeply, so deeply that you worry his tongue, that was prodding at every inch of your mouth, would eventually choke you as fiercely as Karaku had with his hands.

he breaks the kiss for a moment, to pull back and admire the broken expression on your bruised countenance, before he tilts his head. “You’re being ruined, you know? Turned into a mindless fuckdoll.” a wide grin teases his taut lips, “Your body is ours, demon slayer, to destroy as we please. To breed when we feel the need.” if you had any tears left, they would’ve streaked the dirt on your cheeks, but you couldn’t cry.

it felt too good.

“I’d… rather… die…” you breathe out, uneven and trembling, trying to hold on to what little denial you could still muster.

“Shut up, breeder.” Karaku chomped at your clavicle, sucking and biting, leaving his mark on you. “We’ll kill you if we get bored of stuffing your holes, but you won’t get that lucky for a good, long while.” Karaku was grunting again, speeding up, as he must’ve caught on the trail of a second orgasm, and you started to whine and whimper to punctuate each thrust. all of the stimulation— the rubbing against his shaft as Karaku pounded and the way you clench and milk the two cocks fighting for ownership of your pussy— must’ve pushed Urogi over the edge, because he dropped off along the way. coming undone and bucking his hips madly, whimpering with sordid delight as he kisses you again, his release joining Karaku’s and the load already inside as they cum together this time.

a strangled cry bubbles out of your throat, the pressure on your belly more than you’ve ever felt. you could feel a faint bulge, as if they’d inflated you like a balloon, as the excess that refused to fit seeps out between your legs, splattering on the ground underneath you. you could hold absolutely no more, and they both knew that, too. as if coordinated, they both release you, and you crumble to the ground on your belly, sliding off both of their cocks in the process. another eruption of their release oozes out from your abused cunt as you lay there, fucked out and weak.

“Look at you.” Urogi swoons, planting one claw on your arm to pin you in place, squatting down to your level. his cock swung in front of your face, still hard and smelling of your body. it made you dizzy, so you tried to look away, smearing your face in the dirt to escape. “You’re no soldier, girl. All of that training did nothing for your weak mind or your easily ruined body. Break your sword and feed you a couple of demon cocks, and your true purpose is revealed.”

you hear footsteps on the other side, and only a moment passes before Karaku grasps a fistful of your hair. you were familiar, now, with that terribly painful grip. and, upon jerking your head upwards, your open mouth is plugged by his cock, giving you no choice but to taste the cum that frosts it. it’s raw and musky, and your eyes roll back upon swallowing the taste, gurgling weakly. he laughs at this, pushing your head down to force it deeper. “Hanging off our cocks like a pathetic, human puppet.”

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zchlongli · 4 months

Text

Fraternising Traitor - Yandere Jing Yuan

yandere jing yuan x reader

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!

non-con/dub-con, death, war torn era

Your country isn’t like others, where they choose the strong to fight and the smart to lead. You don’t have a democracy or a kind monarch. Criminals are sent to war, people who are crazy and want to fight are sent to war, the actual strength are kept close to the city of the kingdom to protect. The only reason you’re a general here is because you can read a map and make somewhat smarter decisions than the others.

It sucks, though, watching your comrades get slaughtered because they only had two weeks of training, tops, and then made to hike for days on end and fight for nights that seem to go on forever. You weren’t stupid, you know that the other lands of this world laugh at your ridiculous home, the silly king that sends out weak fodder, your armies are treated like bodies used to let off steam. You’ve heard from other ‘generals’ that the enemy even called them ‘target practice’.

You think every night that you should just run, take the risk and leave. The burnt brand on your ribcage would identify you as a person from your home, though, and not many other kingdoms were willing to welcome stragglers, especially from your selfish kingdom. You’ll either get killed or sent back, tortured for treason, and then have you and your entire family killed. It happens way too often.

The sun is setting over the plains, your army only just finishing setting up camp. It was nice enough to do a briefing outside, a few men and women you had assigned to being cartographers and intel, namely anyone who could read or write, which was exceedingly rare upon convicts. The supplies are good (ignoring the fact that enough people have died to help this), there’s starting to get too many items to carry (again, you can’t afford to take empty tents for ghosts when ammunition and weapons are more important), and the main issue… “They’re still following us?” You exhale, shoulders sinking.

“Yes,” a woman says, frowning. She was sent here after stealing bread for her and her children. She’s small, nimble, and can walk around with hardly a sound, “I still haven’t figured out if they’re wanting to attack or just observing. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” you reassure her, “The Cloud Knights are known to be fickle. Especially when Jing Yuan is involved. We can only pray for the best at this point.”

A man clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, clearly annoyed by that comment, “Why are you so nonchalant about this? We should attack first, surprise them, it’ll be our best shot. They’ll only catch up to us otherwise.”

You shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose, “No… If we don’t pose a threat, then there’s a good chance they’ll leave us alone. Jing Yuan can be a reasonable man… When he wants to be, at least. If we’re lucky then they’ll leave us alone.”

“Reasonable?” The man echoes, now gritting his teeth, “He’s ruthless! Burning people alive, leaving stragglers in storms to be electrocuted, attacked by wild animals, slicing pleading men and women by the throat just to listen to them choke- how can you call that reasonable?!”

He’s right, Jing Yuan is a horrible person. You know, though, that if you play your cards right then he won’t have the effort to start a fight. It’s easier to let him do what he wants than antagonise him. If you run; he’ll chase, and if you fight then he’ll enjoy the chaos. It’s honestly a gamble when he’s involved.

Another man steps up, “I know you’re new here, how about we tell you more about it during dinner?”

“Are you coming to ear with us, General?” Another asks.

You decline their offer, “We’re still in new territory, I’m going to finish this map for today. Thank you, though.”

You bid your departure and head to your tent. Most generals would have someone stationed outside, not you though, you can’t afford the manpower and you would rather have happy and awake fighters than grumpy and dead.

With an exhausted sigh, you enter through your tent flap and let it close behind you. You want to cry. You want to sleep. You-

A hand wraps around your mouth and an arm around your torso, trapping your arms to their side. In defence, you scream and kick, but it does nothing against them. A familiar chuckle has your skin crawling, their mouth hot against your ear, “Calm down, sweet. It’s only me.”

He lets you go, and you stumble forward, eyebrows drawn and heart racing. “Jing Yuan,” you gasp, wiping your mouth from the uncomfortable feeling after his silencing, “Why are you following us? I thought you said you had to make your way West?”

Yes, this isn’t the first time he’s done this. Snuck into the enemy campground and confront you where you’re the ‘safest’.

The first time you found him in your tent, he had allowed you to scream and try to capture him. If you could bring the general of Xianzhou back to your kingdom, perhaps you could set up your family for a life of easy living. You now know why he let you, the man easily slaughtering those who came to your aid, to prove a point to you on that day. Everything you do is futile, scream and you lose men, stay compliant and you nothing happens… Usually. For some reason or another, Jing Yuan has decided that you’re his favourite plaything.

He rolls his head around, trying to unstiffen his sore muscles, “Just a little detour. I couldn’t help myself, not when it could be months before I see you again.”

You frown and cross your arms, doing your best to stare him down, “What, afraid I’ll die? You know I survived Belobog, right? I’m not that easy to kill.”

Jing Yuan gave you an infantile chuckle, walking towards you and snaking his arm around your waist. He pulls you against him, his other hand pushing your hair behind your ear, “And how proud I am of you for that. But, actually, you’re not far off. You’re about to reach the Penacony, and as agile as I know you think you are, no one just escapes their domain.”

Your eyes widen, and though your hands are pushing against his chest to try and give some space you can’t deny your utter shock at this information. “The Penacony? No, I was assured that they were prioritising the East. You’re lying.”

“You’re free to believe what you want but, is it really a stretch for your King to lie to you? Why not use your weakest troupes as a decoy for a stronger alliance to rush in?”

Your eyebrows furrow, more confused than anything. Jing Yuan begins kissing down and up your neck, his lips and teeth nibbling your ear as you think. You thought you had a good relationship with the second in command, you bring back what you find from outside the city walls, and they ensure you have the ‘safer’ journeys. Then again, you wouldn’t be surprised if they got compromised or had no other choice.

Jing Yuan pouts, his fingers gripping your hair to pull your head back so he can look into your eyes, “You’re not really reciprocating, sweetheart. It’s almost like you don’t want this.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “I don’t want this. Are you sure it’s the Penacony?”

He sighs heavily, letting you go. Jing Yuan casually sheds his overcoat, walking to your camping bed and sitting down, now with his chest naked, a bandage over his lower stomach and a piece of paper in his hand. He beckons you over with the paper and a lazy smile.

Tentatively, you walk to him and take it, opening the note to read. It had seals of approval from both your Kingdom and the Xianzhou, your kings name, your main general’s name, Jing Yuan’s name- “We’re allying with you?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” he shrugs his shoulders, “In the end, you’ll fall to the Xianzhou. Your King doesn’t know that yet, though.”

This is a lot of information to take in. Your breathing quickens, eyes blurring from exhaustion and stress, “We’re all fucked. Not even just from death, they’re going to torture us for information we don’t have. I told them we weren’t going anywhere near-“

“Hey,” Jing Yuan stands brings you into a hug, cupping your face in his hands as he once again gains your attention. You can’t help but start breathing in his rhythm, his chest rising and falling slowly in your peripheral, “I won’t let that happen. You just honour our deal and I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

Eyelashes flutter over your vision as you try not to cry, shaking in fear at the possible outcome, “How? Not to mention I’ve just been lied to by my homeland, how can I trust you, too?”

He leans forward, lips ghosting over yours, “Have I ever gone back on my word with you?”

At your silence, he takes the moment to kiss you, soft and slow and one you would give to your lover and not some fling on the battlefield. Jing Yuan may be fickle with his words, namely ‘lost-in-translation’ as it were, but, if you truly could understand what he was saying then he never really ‘lied’ to anyone, he was just very good as misconception.

As for the deal, well… It’s something he came up with when you first went toe-to-toe on the battlefield. You had only fought a couple of smaller battles before, not nearly adept enough to face off with the ‘lazy general’ of the Xianzhou. He saw you in your rags and stolen armour from whatever corpse you could get your hands on. Usually, you’re chased away before you can grab anything useful, you only had a pair of shoulder guards that were too big for your frame.

He took pity on you, laughing as he easily swipe-kicked you to the ground. He called out for his soldiers to stop fighting, yours and his very confused and everyone halting. “You’re quite pitiful, it’s honestly adorable,” he had said, only you able to hear his words, “What a horrible fate. Here, wear something that will protect you.” He then called over a female soldier and asked if she were willing to give you her gloves. With a lot of humming and haring, she finally dropped them to the ground next to you. He called for a fallback and you and your dozen-men army were in true shock. The gloves were covered in markings of his home, you decided if you could scratch it to unrecognition then they would be useful.

Another surprise was when that night he had turned up in your tent. After his show of dominance, he explained that a man gets lonely on the battlefield, and as long as you play nice then he’ll let you and your little campaign live. That began months of ‘running into each other’, him never far behind, you always finding the aftermath of a bloody battle, in which his army had obviously won. It was jarring, scary, you didn’t know how to explain it to your comrades, yet at the same time you knew that this was the best outcome to have happened, if not exceedingly risky.

You weren’t very receptive in these intimate moments; it was hard when you were constantly tired and put off by him. It never stopped him drawing out the sounds he wanted to hear, though. It was a lesson you had learnt, move your tent away from others just in case. You still did your best to hold it in, but - when he gets you on the floor and has your legs wrapped around his head, his tongue every-so-sweetly circling your aching clit - fuck is it hard.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, kissing your pussy lips with his mouth, sucking gently on the flesh, “Just relax for me. I’ll take care of you.”

It’s hard not to scoff at that, considering his reputation. Sleepy, lazy, yet when he wants to, he can hit hard. Maybe being under his command would be nice for his soldiers, a lot more relaxing than your king- “A-Ah, wait,” you gasp, eyes opening to look at him. He went straight with two fingers, the pressure sudden and making you tense.

Jing Yuan hums, seemingly dissatisfied, “I appreciate you saving yourself for me alone, but, do you not touch yourself when I’m away?”

Such an embarrassing question, you cover your face with your forearm and fall back, “It feels weird to do when my comrades are nearby. Not to mention I’m too tired most of the time…”

“My poor baby,” he coos, spreading his digits inside of you, stretching you, “It’s a good thing you found me, war is a lot easier when my cock is wet and your cunt is full.”

You groan at his lewd language, face burning to high degrees of shamefulness. You expect nothing less of him, though that doesn’t excuse every remark he makes to you. Fucking is a lot easier on the floor when your homebase is as bad as yours is, so Jing Yuan pulls you to the ground with him, you straddling over his hips as he holds you by the waist and grinds you down. You can’t look at him, too embarrassed to be doing something as shameless as fornicate with the enemy, even if it’s been done so many times before.

He kisses your cheek, aiding in getting the both of you completely nude so that he can have you grinding your slick over his hard cock, “Someone like you isn’t bred for the battlefield. Your king is an absolute fool.” Tears collect in your eyes, it’s not fair that he treats you so softly when the situation is anything but, “Don’t worry. Soon, we’ll both be able to relax our days away, together.”

You didn’t think too hard on it, his sweet talk normal. It’s not long before you’re positioning his cock at the entrance of your pussy, as if you don’t start reciprocating soon then you know there will be consequences involving your camp. He lays back fully, appreciating the view of your naked body slowly sinking down on him. You bite your lip, eyeing his cocky expression with a strained look of your own, “H-How come it feels like you’ve gotten bigger? I thought I’d be used to it by now…”

This amuses him, and you feel shivers and goosebumps with every caress by his hands over your hips, thighs, up your stomach, “My apologies. I really should have taken care of you a lot sooner. If we don’t have sex enough, well, you might just forget the shape of my cock.” He nods, confirming his ideals in his mind, “Yes, we must do it frequently to keep you adjusted. I shall make this sacrifice for you.”

It was a dumb joke. You both knew that in the end he was being selfish. Jing Yuan treats you like you’re the only one he has eyes on in the entire world, no, universe. You find it hard to believe that if he has done this to you then he must have other flings in different corners of the world, despite him telling you otherwise. Now that your kingdom was going to be taken over by his homeland, would that change? Would you be seeing him more often? Or would you be thrown into a pile of criminals and forced to hard labour or execution?

A hard thrust has you coming back to the present, your back arching and your hands landing on his chest with a grunt. He clicks his tongue at you, “(Y/n), you really are drifting today. You’re making me look awake compared to your long-distance stare.”

“I’m glad to see you’re self-aware,” you chip back, moving your hips into him. The schlcking sound of sex starts off slow, though it steadily grows as you both move into each other. Something you have found is that when you actually try, this can be quite enjoyable. Thoughts of being a traitor and getting caught go from causing fear to making your stomach swirl in excitement the closer you get to an orgasm. Your mind rests on one thought, ‘In the end, what can you do? No one can overpower Jing Yuan.’

“So good, sweetheart,” he mumbles, lazily admiring you from below, “Missed you so much.”

You don’t respond, focusing more on completing this ‘task’. There were more pressing matters at hand, you had to figure out what the best course of action would be with this new information he had given you. … Right after he pulls an orgasm from you, though. You hate to admit it but it does get hard to do anything when you’re horny, and during a war like this where you can’t do anything to please yourself it makes you feel like this general may be an angel in disguise.

Fuck, his feels so good inside you. The way the head of his cock pushes through your rigid, gummy walls is just the right ecstasy you need. His pelvis grinds against your clit and the little mewls you let out only make him grip you tighter, “Gonna come, sweetheart? You know you want to use my dick to squirt on.”

They’re words that would sound cringy in any other circumstance, but right now he’s so fucking right. You’re edging closer, an ecstasy you’ve come to love building when-

*FLAP* The door to your tent is ripped open and one of the men from your meeting rushes in, the one that wanted to take on Jing Yuan’s army himself. “General, the Xianzhou-“ Of course, he cuts himself off when he sees the sight. Behing him, you hear people yelling, weapons clanking, it was quiet before but it’s suddenly getting louder. Jing Yuan holds you tighter when you try to move, the other man staring at you with betrayal, “Traitor…”

You want to defend yourself, you want to get up and fight back with your army, you want to do literally anything that’s not sitting with the general’s cock inside you and have to bear the look of dismay from your perfidy on your comrades face. You can’t, Jing Yuan doesn’t let you move and the sight of one of the Cloud Knight’s glave spearing through the door and into his chest makes your jump. He coughs up his own blood, eyes trained on you as if to punish you for doing this, that this was all your fault. Maybe he’s not wrong.

As he loses his life, the soldier that killed him walks in, seeing you two and paying respects to his general as if he wasn’t naked on the floor. Jing Yuan regards him, “Very good. Take the body away, I’ll be out soon.”

“Yes, General!”

Now, you look at him with deceit, “You lied to me.”

His eyebrow raised, as if this was news to him, “I did?”

Willingly falling for his naivety, you nod your head, “You said if I did this then you’d-“

Suddenly, he has you on your back, his cock slinking back into you and his eyes boring down into yours, “That I’d keep you safe, yes. You are safe, (Y/n).”

“No,” he doesn’t halt as you talk, thrusting into you again, now with you limp beneath him, “Me means my troupe, too.”

Jing Yuan disagrees, lifting one of your legs up to his shoulders so he can angle himself better. He licks and nibble on your leg as it sits beside his face, “I hadn’t thought of it like that. Regardless, you will always be my one and only priority here. If it’s any consolation, we’ll keep some alive.”

It doesn’t help in that moment. Not when the blood of your comrade is freshly sinking into the cloth of your tent, and not when the enemy’s general is cumming inside you.

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