#Because it's definitely better to be hit by a heavenly pillar than to be a human stick

[monokoitari]

I'm thinking this idea so hard that I definitely have to write it down, but shit!! It's hard for me to capture Shen Yuan's chaotic vibes in a good narrative way

So it begins like this: Shen Yuan transmigrates. Not into Shen Qingqiu. He opens his eyes and there are two massive tits crushing him, a luxurious room, a garish and bitchy System with kaomojis. Well, he's a wife. A Binghe's wife.

Shen Yuan wants to run away, obviously. Get his penis back, get his MASCULINE MALE MANTASTIC body back, and get as far away from Binghe and the harem and their shitty dramas as possible. He doesn't need that, no thanks. The System obviously doesn't let him. [ You're a wife, user!!! You must behave like the original goods until you collect enough points to unlock the OOC!! ]

And the shit begins. Little harem dramas. Uncovering clues like silly children's puzzles. Shen yuan is fed up, bored, moody, hated by many wives (apparently the original goods were not in good standing. Half-demon, which is good- more power and more strength when escaping!!, but not for a harem wife. Especially since that body is 5'10" and is strong as a sword instead of submissive and bendable like the other sweet wives).

Even though the System keeps putting him in shitty situations, the truth is that there is no trace of Binghe during the first week. Nor the second. By the third, Shen Yuan gets a little worried. According to the current storyline, he shouldn't be far away... No wars, no new wives, just a missing Binghe. Shen Yuan snoops around Binghe's office with such bad luck that Binghe definitely shows up at that moment.

And Binghe looks... Tired. He's tired and grumpy, treating the wife with ice-cold kindness, and Shen Yuan treats him back. It's not that he wants to! It's not that he's offended to see his favorite and be horrible to him! It's the fucking shitty System! If Shen Yuan could, he would be on his knees before Binghe being pathetic and pitiful to ensure his protection!!

But he can't. Binghe sends him away after a cold and hostile encounter and Shen Yuan runs away in a dignified manner (running after the corridor where Binghe can't see him anymore is different).

The next morning, Shen Yuan makes a plan: he will do whatever it takes to get his last damn twenty points to activate OOC mode and get the hell out. Nope, no more Binghe for him. One taste was enough. Thanks but no thanks.

What gets complicated is when one of Binghe's personal servants!!! goes to his room. Binghe is inviting this lady wife to have breakfast with him. And Shen Yuan... He can't say no. Partly because of the System, partly because of the ambition for points, partly because he wants to try Binghe's food. And because he wants to... see Binghe. Again. He's his favorite, okay, don't judge him, maybe Binghe was just tired and being hostile to him. The duties of an Emperor are many and Shen Yuan was invading his private territory. Aaaaand he's a wife, after all, he can't treat him like that aaaaaall the time...

Binghe's breakfast is a delight. In his month at the palace, he has eaten nothing more delicious. Binghe is darkly charming: Shen Yuan asks about her (him), how she (he) is, how she (he) has been. Shen Yuan learns two things: the original goods had only been in the harem for a month and week when Shen Yuan usurped his body, and Luo Binghe doesn't know much about his wife, which means he can improvise answers without losing his in-character personality. The System even gives him +5 points for improvising!!

... +5 points that go to hell when Luo Binghe exposes a scroll on the table. Written in the original goods handwriting... it's a divorce application!!

"I was in my office" says Binghe as the System takes 50 points from him of a blow.

Of course Binghe is going to be wrong now. Of course he is believing that Shen Yuan filed for divorce the day before, when he found him in his office!! Damn original goods, why divorce Binghe!? Does divorce even exist in PIDW!? WHY!?

Shen Yuan makes up excuses, loses at least 20 more points, makes up more things again and sadly crawls with only 15 points in his favor and a rather furious Binghe.

Why does this wife want to abandon Binghe? This emperor has been kind, does this wife want something different? Shen Yuan makes up that he never imagined being married to an absent husband, capable of making him feel so lonely in a nest of other lonely women... And Binghe seems genuinely affected by it. Ah, loneliness, the weapon Binghe knows firsthand. An isolated and caring newcomer, being mocked and humiliated by others, seeking to remain resilient. Binghe, this one promises that he didn't use your past traumas on purpose!!

Binghe promises that he will change her (his) mind. He will be a present husband and make her (him) feel comfortable. Which makes Shen Yuan's escape plans go to fuckin hell. Bye bye, xianxia male body! Hello, another weeks of back pain from huge boobs!

And Binghe delivers on his promise, unfortunately. What's it costing you to be a normal man and forget your promises every day, damn protagonist!!

Shen Yuan wakes up with breakfast from Binghe, continues his day with walks with Binghe, ends his afternoon with dinner with Binghe, and dodges the papapa like a champ. Binghe is patient, considerate. Their conversations are charming, but Shen Yuan can see him... Sad. There is an old braid in his hair and deep dark circles under his eyes. Binghe looks exhausted, wasted, and when he thinks Shen Yuan isn't looking, his face shows so much sorrow that Shen Yuan wants to comfort him.

There's not much he can say. Get some random points - holding Binghe's hand at the right moment, discussing an important point about a creature and a hunt, giving recommendations how to best deal with eastern bear demons... Binghe seems to appreciate his company beyond the call of duty, which makes Shen Yuan a little proud. He's spending time with his favorite fictional boy without screwing up.

Then his body gets sick.

Xianxia World! Cultivation! Magic! Nothing? Shen Yuan wakes up with his head spinning like he's just stepped off a roller coaster, vomiting pathetically into an empty vase. The nausea is not getting better. His headache is horrible.

The System offers him to buy a skip plot; it comes out the same points that Shen Yuan has and he has tried hard not to spend them, a ridiculously large amount of points just to avoid a stomach infection. It's hard to complete side quests with the protagonist attached to his hip! Shen Yuan drops the skip plot.

The System insists. If he doesn't skip the plot now, he won't be able to do so in the future. Shen Yuan ignores it again. It's a silly illness. Nothing a little rest won't help.

... a little rest won't make it better.

Shen Yuan is thankful that Luo Binghe is not in the palace on his mission in the east, because he can be fully pathetic. He barely eats, faints from hunger, but as soon as he puts something in his mouth his stomach expels it. Damn demented body, do you want to eat only Binghe's food so much!? Spoiled body.

Shen Yuan sleeps a lot, sobs a lot in pain, growls (his body can growl. It's interesting) to the servants who come to clean, he takes cool showers that relieve his headache, and continues to expel every crumb.

He thinks he was even poisoned. He doesn't let the harem doctors get close. Mostly because he doesn't know them, but also because he remembers a subplot about a doctor who poisoned Binghe's wives to get revenge because Binghe had refused to take his daughter (for reasons that were entirely valid for Shen Yuan: she was a girl of barely twelve years old) in marriage and she had run away from home to avoid the humiliation. The plot ended with the girl hiding in the doctor's basement, who had made everything up, Binghe making a gore chapter out of it to remember the old days, and adopting the little girl to be raised among his many children in the harem... A good subplot for Shen Yuan, without unnecessary papapa even if it was for two chapters and followed by a threesome with massive busty demons.

Shen Yuan doesn't want to take any chances to unlock some gore subplot. So he just endures his nausea and pain until it fades about two weeks later. Suddenly it's bearable. He can snack on fruit and some roasted seeds. Some flavors are still intolerable to him... some smells too. He feels nauseous at the strongest, or even mildest, smells, but if they are too sweet he must run away. And textures on his skin. And tunics squeezing him. And his fucking huge tits hurt. They hurt like, like they're going to burst or break his cleavage. He even believes that from one day to the next they look bigger if that is possible. Wearing clothes is annoying. Having a body is annoying. Is this some fucking PMS that Shen Yuan didn't want to live with?

Wasn't it a ferocious body of a half-demon with a high cultivation level?? Why is he having PMS? He hasn't... bled since he came into this world!

...

. . .

He hasn't bled since he came to that world. The wedding (papapa of the original goods with The Heavenly Pillar) was almost three months ago. Shen Yuan has been occupying that body for almost two months.

...

. . .

That's not fucking happening.

"System, what the hell!?"

[ User was given the opportunity to buy a skip plot! User rejected it!!! (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠) Congratulations on making it through the first trimester in a healthy way!!! ]

Fucking shit.

[tothemeadow]

HIIIII

I seen ur previous giyuu stuff 👀 and I was wondering if u could write a giyuu smut with a fem reader maybe giyuu misses his s/o so much it dont matter who top, but like ty so much if u do this but feel free to ignore 💃🕺

I will reveal myself later 😳

I decided to put these two together because why the fuck not.

‘you’re all i’ve got tonight’ / Tomioka G. x Reader

warnings: NSFW, oral sex, somnophilia (maybe?)

words: 1,479

(a/n): eyo I wrote 3 smuts today so I’m just gonna- 🏃‍♀️

-

All he wants is you.

It’s been too long – a month too long. Normally, Giyuu wouldn’t mind being away from home for such a long period of time, but ever since you entered his life, he can barely stand being away from you. It was rough saying goodbye after his crow told him he had to leave, to travel so away from you.

Since the day of his departure, Giyuu’s being craving to hold you in his arms, to whisper sweet nothings in your ears. Once upon a time in his life, Giyuu had been used to loneliness, to its dark grasp and icy clutches. He never wants to feel that way in his life ever again, but, as is his luck, that’s the exact situation he found himself in.

He thinks that it’s this reason why he’s so eager to find you when he finally arrives home. No, it’s not desperation. It’s definitely not horniness, either. Giyuu was never one to have a high sex drive – or at least he thought so. During his long-term mission, he’s learned a lot of things about himself.

He finds you fast asleep in the bed the two of you shared; with the funds he makes as a Pillar, he surprised you by buying some fancy Western style bed to use instead of the usual futon. His heart swells in his chest at the sight of you beneath the covers, the slight rising and falling of your chest. On their own accord, his feet carry him over to the bed. He slides in underneath the covers without further thought, not even bothering to remove his multicolored haori.

He shudders at the warmth emitting from your body, the natural scent of your skin. He involuntarily groans, burying his face in your neck. Placing open-mouthed kisses to flesh, his breath hitches in his throat when you stir, but you don’t wake up. He really should put an end to this sort of behavior, but he’s missed you so bad. His impatience grows as he shifts on top of you, slithering his way down your body with his mouth and hands. A simple tug at your yukata has the material falling loose at your sides, revealing smooth skin and perky breasts.

Giyuu bites his lip at the sight of your luscious, naked body; he urgently presses kisses to the exposed flesh, following the invisible line from your sternum down the swell of your stomach and stopping at your pubic bone. His pupils are blown wide from both the dark and his insatiable lust. Oh, gods, he needs you now.

It all starts with small, heated kisses against your inner thigh. You stir in your sleep once more, but you have yet to wake up. No matter – Giyuu knows the perfect way to greet you. His tongue sweeps over the crevice of your thigh, just barely grazing the side of your most intimate part, but he can’t find it in him to rush. While he is desperate your touch, he wants to draw this out, to savor every single second of it. Slowly, ever so slowly, he runs over your slit with the flat of his tongue.

Your body twitches beneath him, a soft sigh falling from your parted lips. His ears perk up at the sound. It’s been an entire month since he last heard your beautiful voice and those delicious little noises you make. So he does it again and again, tongue flicking over your slit as he slowly pushes it in. The sigh you release is louder this time, your fingers twitching at your sides.

“Giyuu…” you murmur.

Giyuu’s cock twitches in his pants. You’re dreaming of him. Knowing that you’re having a wet dream about him kicks him into a higher gear; shoving his tongue fully inside of you, he clutches onto your supple thighs as he fucks you with his tongue.

The noises dropping from your lips are nothing short of sinful – ragged gasps, high-pitched pants, whimpers of his name. Giyuu’s fingers join his tongue, the tips seeking out that spongy spot that makes you lose your damn mind. Happiness bubbles in Giyuu’s chest as you suddenly grip onto his hair.

“G-Giyuu?” you stutter, your voice heavy with sleep. You moan when he hums into your pussy.

“I’m home, baby,” Giyuu husks. His voice is so deep and raspy, the arousal lining his tone clear as day. He quickly kisses your thigh. “Gods, I missed you so much.”

Your eyes flutter as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you, the digits curling deliciously against your ridged walls. “I… I missed you too,” you murmur. Scrambling onto your elbows, you urge the blanket away, fully revealing Giyuu between your legs. You immediately moan at the sight; even through the dark, you can make out the fucked-out expression on Giyuu’s face, the slick from your pussy clinging to his mouth and chin.

“Shit,” Giyuu mutters.

You’re about to ask him what he means, but then he’s shooting upwards, his mouth seeking out yours. You sigh as he slips his tongue into your mouth, the taste of your essence heavy on his tongue. His fingers continue with their urgent pace, his thumb joining in and playing with your clit.

“You feel so good, baby,” Giyuu purrs against your lips. You gasp as he drops his hips against yours, the hard line of his cock pressing against the material of his hakama. The head of his cock drags against your slit, your slick wetting the front of his pants even further. “I missed this too much,” he admits with a grunt.

His breathy voice makes your blood boil. A heavy knot forms in the base of your stomach, deliciously hot and irresistible. Rugged pants fill your ears as Giyuu makes haste of removing his clothing; a moment passes before you join him, your hands undoing the buttons of his uniform jacket before your sliding it down his shoulders. A hiccup breaks free from your throat as you feel his bare skin with your palms, the jagged flesh of his scars.

Silently, Giyuu takes a hand in one of his and guides it to his crotch. He chokes on a pleasure filled sigh as you wrap your fingers around him, the weight of his cock feeling heavenly in your hand. You furiously pump his cock as his fingers quicken up their pace. Wet sounds fill the room, mix with your heavy groans and pleading words.

Giyuu kisses you once more as he places the head of his cock against your slit, a throaty groan bubbling from the depths of his chest as he pushes himself into you. With a weak cry of his name, you cling to his shoulders, your velvety walls rippling around him. The pace he sets is slow, but he’s thrusting into you so deep that you’re certain he’s hitting your cervix. He fucks into you thoroughly, the tight heat of your cunt almost too much to take.

“You feel so much better than I remember,” Giyuu says as he presses his forehead to yours. You jolt when he slips a thumb over one of your nipples. “You know how hard it’s been being so far away from you?” he grunts. “I longed to see your face every single day.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. “It was hard for me, too,” you tell him. “I can’t stand waking up without you by my side.”

A curse graces your ears as your walls tighten around his cock. “Next time, you’re coming with me.”

A pleased smile forms on your face as you rock your hips back against him. “That better be a promise. Fuck me, baby,” you whisper.

Coming to a complete stop, you feel Giyuu shift on the bed before he’s snapping his cock back into you with a solid thrust; your back arches as you cry out, your walls tightening impossibly around him.

“I’m not going to last long if you keep squeezing like that,” Giyuu grits.

He fucks into you hard and fast; his desperation bleeds from his pores, powers the strength in his movements. He kisses you passionately, his hand grabbing onto your jaw and tilting your head in a way that makes the kiss deeper than it was before. You moan into his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulder blades and raking down his skin, leaving angry red trails in their wake.

“Gods, I could fuck you forever,” he husks.

“Then do it,” you urge. “Show me how much you missed me.”

You cry out as his fingers frantically play with your clit, flicking at the sensitive bud and pinching it. You can’t get over just how good he feels, his cockhead punching into your most sensitive areas with each stroke of his hips.

“Oh, I will, baby. I’ve got all night.”

[cinanamon]

tainted by sin — zcl

pairing | chenle x reader

genre | angst, angel!au, demon!au

word count | 1.9K

synopsis | Chenle was the purest of angels, and that’s why he became a prized target of yours, a demon. You just wanted to watch the heavens fall.

warning | crying, threats, fall from grace, despair

Heaven was the holiest place on earth; everyone knew. It was beautiful, with clouds to step upon and pillars to admire, jeweled walls and golden streets; everything glowing, everything alive. Just being there you feel light on your feet, and a radiance so bright emitted from the throne, encasing all of the paradise.

And in this place lied angels and pure souls and saints, people of such good will and righteousness. All serving of the lord, and all brimming with praise. All nine orders of the servants of God, the first being the closest to the throne and so on down the line it went.

The last order of the servants was angels; and yet, in the lowest category, was the purest soul; Chenle. He didn’t mind his lowest rank, still seeing it as an honor to serve, taking any chance he has to help and guide and learn. So kind and helpful, so naive and innocent; he was the definition of angelic, the epitome of divinity.

And so he became your prize.

You and Chenle lived two completely different lives; heaven and hell, angel and demon, good and bad. You could not have one without the other, it seemed, and it fascinated you that you could know so much and he could know so little.

You wondered why they’d let such a perfect angel wander with such little protection, such little knowledge; it made it too easy for you to want to taint him.

Because what a victory it would be to turn the best of the angels dark; to turn the cleanest of white wings black, a sickening graying effect. It sent a thrill of excitement through you whenever he left the heaven’s gates by himself.

But you knew better; maybe the one virtue that stuck with you was patience, or maybe it’s centuries in hell that accustomed you to the use of self-control, even if all that meant to demons was indulgence and vengeance.

And so you’d wait and observe; watch his routine, his objectives, what seemed to distract him; what he cared about most. And you felt like things were finally falling into place when he was assigned a baby to guard. Most angels were guardian angels after all; it was about time he’d have a safekeep human to look after, protect and guide and nurture. Chenle had seemed overjoyed by the prospect; and in a way, you were too. Now you had a means of leverage.

And so like the snake in the garden of Eden, you prowled and waited for a chance to strike. Months passed but to you it didn’t matter; the long-term reward would be better than making yourself apparent before you were sure of your success. And one cold night you watched Chenle slip through the child’s window, like the breeze himself he was airy and light as he gracefully made his entrance; and it felt right in that moment, to follow. To spark your efforts into action.

Like a shadow compared to him, you stalked your way towards the house, willed the door to unlock without lifting a finger. You made your way past the child’s sleeping parents, seeing as they were not the object of your attention at the moment, not until after your mission was completed. Thankfully the child’s door was open, and so you glided into the doorway with ease, stopping to lean on the threshold as a smirk began to play on your lips.

Oh how easy this really seemed.

You had never once questioned the beauty and grace of angels; never once doubted how celestial Chenle himself was. With pale, clear skin and soft features, long lashes and curly blonde hair, clothed in a white toga, and you could never fail to mention his magnificent, ivory wings; the trademark of angels, what marked them as a servant of the Lord.

And in the moonlight, he shone. The shadows curved over the contours of his face, the highlights accenting his purity; and you admired him at his peak of virtue, the most innocent he will ever be when you’re done with him. As if sensing a change in the atmosphere, his eyes lowered from the moon outside, shifting to your place by the door and he froze.

He stood from his place by the crib quickly, standing protectively in front of the infant. “State your business.” His voice was soft but firm, gentle and yet unafraid.

But you were not here to fight; you were here so he would walk right into the palm of your hand.

You pushed off the doorway, moving into the moonlight so he could gaze upon your grand, dark wings and beautiful yet daring face. “Here I am,” your tone was smooth, but the edge was unmistakable. Chenle stiffened, his eyes never leaving the trademark of demons that protruded from your shoulder blades. “I am here to visit.”

“A demon has no need to visit a mortal household,” Your lips curled when he moved to be at the forefront of your vision, so your watchful eyes couldn’t take in the sight of his guardian child. “I think it would be best if you left.”

“Before I’ve even gotten to say my hellos?” You feigned a look of hurt, pressing a cold hand to your chest. “I thought angels were more chivalrous then so.”

“And I know demons are only ever up to no good,” His eyes darted between your hand and eyes, looking for any signs of trouble. “So please forgive me if I seem rude.”

“Not at all.” You dropped the act, narrowing your eyes as you stalked closer, enjoying how his breathing caught in his throat and he took a few steps backwards, realizing that he was not in control in this situation, that he was, in a way, at your mercy.

And in such an event, you remembered delightfully that he was indeed naive; he had never been in contact with a demon, never dealt with grief or pain or loss just yet, and it sent shivers down your spine that you’d be the first to introduce him to each kind.

“Tell me,” he looked up at your words, his eyes wide yet jaw clenched, and you could almost read the dread in his eyes. “Would my touch alone hurt you?”

He looked to your raised hand hesitantly, tensing when it landed on the side of the crib, and it sent fear through him; terrible waves that made his stomach churn. “No,” he swallowed. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t sound very confident,” You taunted. “But very well. Do you think if I touched her it would affect her?” And power had never felt so good in your hands; you could see the desperation clinging to his form as he forcibly turned to you, and yet his apprehension of your touch kept him at bay. Your hand lowered down the wall of the crib, drawing closer to the infant’s side. “Do you think just one graze of my nail would do?”

“Don’t touch her,” but his voice shook, and his hand hovered just above yours, poised to knock your palm away at any second but you could sense that he was afraid. “What do you need with this innocent child? Why must you taunt me?”

“Too afraid of my touch still?” You laugh, but it was filled with little mirth. “Too little faith in your God, do you think? Don’t trust him enough to save and protect you from me?”

And questioning his faith must have hit a chord, because his expression hardened and his hand enclosed around your wrist tightly, ripping your figure away from the sleeping child. And what you didn’t expect was his touch to be scorching. His heavenly influence burned away at your flesh, the skin hardened by the fires of hell. And in a sick way, you almost enjoyed the pain, admiring the bracelet of red encircling your wrist.

But you weren’t the only one scathed by the flames. You heard a sharp cry, only to look up and witness Chenle gripping at his own arm, doubling over from the sudden pain. He was whimpering, falling to his knees as he trembled. You wondered if it hurt more to be touched by darkness than it was to be touched by light.

And when he managed to release his hold on his wrist, your assumption was proven correct.

Because darkness can taint you, but the light can never bring you back.

And a ring around his hand, like a chain, were the red burns that matched yours, but what captivated you was the underlying black traces that were foreign to angels, only known too well to demons.

“Thought my touch wouldn’t do anything?” you jeered, but he didn’t seem to hear you, his lip quivering as he slowly raised his hand to stare in terror at the growing mark. “It has stripped you of your love from God.”

“No,” he shook his head and looked at you, tears beginning to crest over the curve of his cheeks, falling down to stain his robe much like the fallen angels had darkened the earth. “No, I’m—I’m a follower of God, I would do anything to serve him.”

“It doesn’t seem to matter,” You smiled cruelly, kneeling in front of him. You placed a hand on his knee and he flinched, pushing back like he would be burnt again but he wasn’t; he had already begun the process, and so your touch could no longer hurt. And yet you knew that wasn’t the only reason; he was disgusted, in you and himself. You lowered your face closer to his ear, your voice barely audible, dare even sultry, as you purred, “You won’t feel like that in a little while.”

And he shook his head again, wildly, denying the fact that he has no control over what would happen to him. And he didn’t do anything wrong, at least, not for any wrong cause. His process of turning dark seemed to grow quicker, overtaking his arm and crawling up to his shoulder, stripping him of his natural golden glow, instead smearing him the crisp silvery gray of the fallen. More sobs began to spill from his lips, and he couldn't maintain eye-contact with you, his eyes dropping in a cold state of defeat.

Guilt naturally tried to take you in its grasp, make you repent for such a cruel action against an angel; you were sure it was God trying to make you answer for such a sin. But you let it run over you like water, shriveling on your skin before you could absorb the feeling. And from your experience as a demon, it had become easy to ignore the call of morality.

What hit Chenle the hardest was when his wings went from a glowing white to an ashy gray, his efforts renewed as he grasped at the feathers, crumbling away in his grasp, speckled by sin. He curled them around his frame, his whole body convulsing from grief as the graying tips completed the process, his golden halo dimming and perishing. You gently stroked his wings, enjoying their featherlight touch, humming as a means to comfort him, but only to better help him transition.

And as he continued to cry and shake, his hair messy and skin dull, wings gray and eyes glassy, the moonlight still held him gently in its clutch, still shone on him gracefully. In the darkest of ways, you were mesmerized.

Because even now that he was one of the fallen, he couldn’t have looked more like an angel.