Please can I ask for mid but with a reader that just randomly grabbed the daemos by the horns as an intrusive thought and has no idea how it effects the daemos
[M.I.D] Daemos x Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Stupid blabbering
A/N: It's just a me thing but I HATE when people say intrusive thought when it's a Impulsive thought IM GOING TO VREUHWACUHNAWS AHEM! But ty for this request I hope it's alright, also I've been thinking I'm getting better with grammar and punctuation then from when I first started writing so i thank everyone who requests and those who read my book! <33
Summary: Reader that just randomly grabbed the Daemos by the horns as an impulsive thought and has no idea how it effects the daemos
There were plenty of things [Name] had learned not to do around the Daemos don’t touch the weapons stash, don’t sneak up during meditation, and definitely don’t give Noi sugar after dark.
But no one had ever said anything about the horns. So when the thought hit sudden, chaotic, and deeply impulsive when you were hanging out with him your hands reached out quickly with the thought that appeared in your mind "what if I just... grabbed one?" [Name] acted on instinct. No thought. No warning.
Your hand shot out and latched onto one of his horns. The room froze. A heavy silence settled over t like fog. He blinked, stiffened, and a flush slowly spread across his face. His jaw clenched, the tips of his ears tinged pink.
You stood there, hand still on the horn, like you'd just been caught reaching into Pandora’s box. You stared at the daemos whose horn you’d grabbedthat let out a slow breath, his voice rough and flustered
Asch
It happened too fast one moment, Prince Asch was in the middle of a very passionate very loud rant about the crumbling structure of Daemos realm politics. He was waving his hands dramatically, pacing back and forth, his cape fluttering behind him like he was the star of a stage play.
[Name] had both hands firmly wrapped around one of his horns time stopped. Asch’s whole body seized like someone had turned him to stone. His breath hitched in his throat, and a furious crimson began creeping up his neck, reaching the tips of his pointed ears. The Daemon prince stared at them with wide, almost offended eyes.
“U-UNHAND ME, PRISONER!” he sputtered, voice cracking as the color bloomed even darker across his face. You yelped and let go instantly, hands up like a caught criminal. “I-I’m so sorry! It was just an impulsive thought! I didn’t think-” before you could finish, Asch had grabbed your wrist not rough, not punishing, but enough to stop you from retreating or escaping the way you suddenly really wanted to.
“If you ever do that in public,” he hissed, flustered panic bubbling beneath his words, “you would’ve had an audience! Staring at me! At my name, beneath such a humiliating act-!” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale and groaned, raking a hand through his tousled dark hair.
“I am a prince,” he muttered, quieter now. “There is protocol.” There was a pause. He exhaled, long and tired. “It’s fine. Within my chambers. But…” Slowly, he turned back to you. The fire in his voice softened to embers, his golden eyes meeting yours again and now, you could see how deeply embarrassed he was. His blush was nearly glowing.
“Just… warn me next time, alright?” he added, his voice barely above a whisper and then, before you could respond, he moved in closer. Not to yell. Not to scold but to hide.
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, a muffled huff of air brushing against your skin. Your breath caught as he pressed closer, arms gently wrapping around your waist, holding you there.
“Reminder…” he muttered, his voice low and half-lost against your neck, “only if the situation suits it, prisoner.” You could feel the warmth of his cheek on your skin, and left a small kiss onto your skin. A barely-there, secret, stolen kiss on the side of your neck that left your face just as red as his.
You blinked, stunned into silence, your heart thudding embarrassingly loud in your chest. His hand tightened slightly at your back, and you could practically hear the smugness fighting to surface beneath the embarrassment “You’re blushing,” he murmured teasingly.
You stammered, your voice caught somewhere between mortified and giddy. “You kissed me!” Asch finally pulled back just enough to look at you, his pride clearly patched back together albeit with a slightly crooked smirk. “Of course I did. It’s a princely privilege. And since you manhandled my horn, I believe I’m owed compensation.”
You laughed despite yourself, smacking his shoulder lightly. “You’re the most dramatic person I’ve ever met.” “And you’re the most reckless,” he retorted, his smile softening. “But… I suppose I don’t mind it. Within reason. And within these walls.”
He cupped your cheek with one gloved hand, brushing his thumb over your skin. “Next time, though… maybe ask first?” You nodded, still pink-faced, but smiled. “Deal. But only if you stop calling me ‘prisoner’ every time you get flustered.” “No promises,” Asch grinned, leaning in again hiding his face in your shoulder "Do that again prisoner
Rhys
The room was peaceful, cast in the soft, golden hue of a bedside lamp. Dust particles floated lazily through the air, and the distant murmur of voices from the living room reminded you that the others were still awake but here, in Rhys’s room, it was quiet.
You were curled up at the edge of his bed, a cozy blanket tossed over your legs, and a well-worn book open in your hands. The paper smelled faintly like vanilla and old ink. Across from you, Rhys sat perfectly upright in his desk chair, one leg crossed over the other, reading something far more serious a book about Earth’s legal systems his coat was folded neatly over the chair’s back, his amulet glinting faintly under the warm light.
very so often, he adjusted his glasses with a thoughtful touch or turned a page with delicate precision. He looked so composed, so focused but your own attention had long since wandered specifically, to the sharp, elegant curve of his horns.
You’d been doing your best to behave. Really, you had. You weren’t some impulsive little gremlin well, not most of the time but your eyes kept flicking to those dark blue horns, curved inward like blades, polished with a soft sheen. They were just… there. Right in your line of sight.
Like some kind of forbidden fruit perched atop his head, taunting you. They looked solid. Heavy. Textured. Your brain started whispering stupid things quiet, chaotic thoughts like, “I bet they feel cool to the touch,” and “What would happen if I just grabbed it?” You tried to shake it off. Refocused on your book. Reread the same sentence for the fourth time. It didn’t help. Your curiosity just wouldn’t shut up. You peeked over the top of your book. Rhys was still reading, posture perfect, eyes scanning the page. Completely unaware.
Then… your hand moved.
One moment you were seated. The next, you were standing on the bed, leaning forward without any real plan, your brain static with nothing but panic and bad ideas. Before logic or dignity could intervene, your hand reached out and gently wrapped around the base of his horn.
Just like that your fingers curled around the smooth, ridged surface, thumb brushing the texture without thinking. It was like grabbing the hilt of a sword made out of heat and lightning. Rhys went completely still.
The book in his hands slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor with a quiet thump. His body locked up so fast you worried he might’ve been hit with a spell. His shoulders tensed, his breath caught, and his eyes wide and confused slowly turned toward you in utter disbelief. You stood there like a deer in headlights, hand still on his horn, and no excuse in the world forming fast enough to save you.
“…Why did you do that?” he asked, his voice a quiet, stunned rasp You froze. “I… I don’t know.” “You don’t know?” he repeated, eyebrows raising slowly. “It was an impulsive thought!” you blurted out, yanking your hand away as fast as humanly possible. “I wasn’t thinking! My brain said ‘do it’ and I didn’t think it’d like, do anything- oh my god, I’m sorry!”
Rhys inhaled deeply, slowly, like he was forcing himself not to combust on the spot. His entire face was red. Even the tips of his ears were turning a faint shade of purple. His hands, still resting on the arms of his chair, were trembling just slightly. He adjusted his glasses with more force than necessary, clearing his throat twice before he found the words.
“For Daemos,” he said carefully, “grabbing someone’s horn is... not done lightly. It’s considered an... intimate gesture.” You stared at him. “...WHAT.” “It’s... traditionally part of courtship,” he added, looking off to the side like he was seriously considering melting into the wall.
Your soul left your body. you collapsed back onto the bed with a groan, dragging the blanket over your head like it might protect you from the embarrassment threatening to kill you on the spot.
“Do I need to offer you ice cream or something to make up for it?” you mumbled into the blanket, mortified beyond repair. There was a pause. Then… a soft laugh.
Your head peeked out. Rhys composed, cool, always serious Rhys was smiling. Really smiling. The kind that reached his eyes. “That would be a start,” he said, still looking mildly flustered but far more amused now.
You sat up straighter, blinking in confusion. “Wait... are you not mad?” “No,” he said gently, his voice back to its usual calm rhythm. “I’m not mad. Surprised, yes. Flustered, absolutely. But... not angry.” You let out a relieved sigh and nodded. Then, in a moment of bravery (or residual stupidity), you murmured, “I really didn’t mean to flirt or anything.”
Rhys glanced at you sideways, fingers tapping the edge of his desk “…So if you had meant to?” he asked quietly You blinked. Your stomach did a very specific flip. He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t looking at you directly, but there was a question buried deep in his tone honest curiosity, maybe even hope.
You swallowed, cheeks burning. “…I’d probably have used a spoon and asked to share your ice cream first.” A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He nodded once, slow and thoughtful.
“Noted.”
Pierce
The evening was quiet, the kind of calm that settled into the apartment only when the others were either occupied or finally too tired to cause chaos.
The soft hum of distant traffic filtered through the half-open window, the last light of sunset pouring in gold across the hardwood floor. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor with your back against the couch, flipping lazily through a magazine you found in Ava’s bookshelf. Across the room, Pierce sat in silence, his massive frame hunched over slightly to accommodate his height in the too-small living room.
His claymore rested on his knees as he ran a soft cloth over the blade with smooth, practiced motions calm, efficient, silent. The ritual was oddly soothing to watch.
There was something peaceful about the way he moved, like cleaning the weapon was as natural to him as breathing. You’d seen him like this a few times quiet, focused, existing in the kind of stillness that seemed almost sacred.
His horns caught your eye. You weren’t proud of it. You weren’t even really thinking just looking. They curved upward from the sides of his head, strong and arched, shaded from deep blue at the base to a pale icy glow at the tips. You hadn’t touched them before. None of the Daemos really invited that sort of thing, and Pierce? He was definitely the last person you’d ever risk annoying.
Stoic, strong, terrifyingly tall, and always watching. But maybe that was why your curiosity whispered louder this time. He hadn’t said not to touch. No one had. And you’d spent just enough time around them now to know that most of the rules weren’t written they were found out the hard way.
You glanced at him again. He was still polishing the edge of his sword with that same quiet intensity. Not looking at you. Not expecting anything. The thought came uninvited. "What if I just… grabbed it?" A pause.
You didn’t even realize you were standing until you were behind him. You leaned in slightly just enough and before your better judgment could slam the brakes, your fingers gently wrapped around the curve of one of his horns. Solid. Cool. Smooth.
Pierce stopped moving and the cloth fell from his fingers. The entire room felt like it dropped ten degrees. You froze too, your hand still there, curled around the base of his horn. You stared at the back of his head, eyes wide in slow dawning horror. He didn’t speak. Didn’t breathe.
His shoulders, broad and tense, rose only slightly with each shallow inhale. You watched as the muscles in his neck flexed just once. And then he turned slowly, deliberately his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours.
You stepped back like you’d been burned. “I- I didn’t mean to- It was an impulse! I wasn’t thinking! I just- I thought- ‘What if I grabbed it?’ and then I did, and now I’m talking too much and I want to disappear into the floor-”
Pierce stared at you, blinking once. Then, finally, in his usual deep and quiet tone “…You touched my horn.” You nodded in shame. “Yes. Yes, I did. I’m sorry. It was stupid. I’ll go sit in a corner now.”
He said nothing for a moment, still looking at you like he was processing something very complicated. Then he picked up the cleaning cloth slowly, hands steady but his voice quieter than before. “…That means something to Daemos.” You blinked. “It does?”
He nodded once. “It’s personal. You only do that if you’re…” He trailed off, eyes flicking toward the floor, unsure. “...Very close. It means trust. Or... interest.” You went still. “Interest?” Pierce didn't answer right away. His gaze stayed low, his expression unreadable.
You exhaled. “I swear I wasn’t trying to send a message. I really didn’t know. I was just being a dumb Earthling with too much curiosity.” Another silence passed. Then, quietly, almost shyly: “But if you were sending one?”
Your heart tripped over itself. “I guess I’d be asking if I could stay next time. You know. Touch it again… on purpose.” That earned you a look not startled, not annoyed, but thoughtful. Soft. The kind of expression you weren’t sure Pierce had ever worn before. He returned to cleaning his sword, but his voice was lower, warmer now.
“…I wouldn’t stop you.”
Leif
The rooftop was quiet the kind of quiet that stretched on without pressure where the city lights blinked far below like stars grounded to pavement and time moved slower, softer.
You and Leif sat side by side with your backs to the low wall, legs drawn up or dangling over the edge, each settled in your own silence. There wasn’t much to say. You were used to that with him. Sometimes words felt too sharp for nights like this, when just existing beside him was enough.
He didn’t seem to mind it either. His eyes scanned the horizon, barely blinking, silver hair tousled by the occasional breeze, the pale green curve of his horns catching what little moonlight filtered through the clouds.
There was something almost calm about him in that moment leif, who was usually tension wrapped in flesh, claws behind grins, venom behind charm but tonight he was just... there. Breathing. Thinking. Quiet in a way that made you want to keep the peace intact.
And maybe that’s why it happened.
You weren’t trying to ruin it. You weren’t even really thinking. Your gaze had drifted again toward the curve of one of his horns, the way it glinted in the light, smooth and sharp and a little too elegant for someone like him. It looked... touchable.
Like the kind of thing your brain tagged with a warning sign you couldn’t help but ignore. Your hand moved before you could stop yourself. A soft, hesitant motion. You reached out and gently pressed your fingers against it not yanking, not holding, just brushing your fingertips along its surface in a light, almost curious touch. The reaction was immediate.
Leif froze every muscle in his body locked up, spine going stiff as if you’d struck him with something. The stillness in him was terrifying not the stillness of patience or observation, but the kind that meant danger. The kind that was always followed by a snap. His breath caught in his throat and the air around him shifted like pressure was building under his skin.
You could feel it like the city had gone still around just the two of you. Slowly, he turned his head toward you. His expression was unreadable. Too calm. Too still and when he spoke, his voice was like a knife drawn quietly from its sheath “What the hell… did you just do?”
You pulled your hand back instantly, heart stuttering. “I- I didn’t mean anything by it,” you blurted out, stumbling over your own words.
“It was just- your horn was right there, and my brain just… short-circuited. It was like one of those intrusive thoughts you’re not supposed to act on and then suddenly I did, and I swear I didn’t mean anything weird or disrespectful by it-” You realized how fast you were talking and clamped your mouth shut before you could dig yourself deeper. Your chest felt tight. You weren’t sure if it was fear or embarrassment or both.
Leif blinked once, slowly. His jaw flexed, lips pressed into a thin line. His ears twitched like even his body was trying to process the moment but he didn’t lash out. He didn’t snarl or vanish in a burst of smoke like you half-expected.
He just stared at the horizon again. “You don’t just touch a Daemos’ horn,” he said after a beat, voice quieter now but edged in something deeper- hurt, maybe. Frustration. “That’s not something people do. Not unless they’re your healer. Or your mate.” The breath left your lungs all at once. “Oh,” you said softly. “Oh no.”
He didn’t say anything. And for a while, neither did you. The silence felt heavier now, no longer soft. You looked at him at his jaw, tense but not clenched, the faintest flush of green brushing across his cheekbones. Not fury. Not rage.
It was something much more vulnerable than that. Shame, maybe. Or surprise. You swallowed. “I didn’t mean to cross a line,” you said gently. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known.”
Leif didn’t respond. He just sat there, his posture slowly loosening but still guarded. Then, almost like he was speaking to himself, he muttered, “…I didn’t kill you.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to laugh through the anxiety bubbling in your chest. “That’s… comforting?” you offered, though your voice shook a little.
He let out a short, rough exhale that might’ve been a laugh or something close to it. “Don’t thank me,” he grumbled. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
You tilted your head toward him, watching his expression from the corner of your eye. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” you said quietly. “You just… weren’t expecting it. That’s my fault.” He didn’t look at you. Just ran a hand through his hair and shook his head once. “Yeah, well. You still did it.” His voice wasn’t bitter. Just blunt. But the anger never came. And when the silence returned, it was gentler this time.
“But I didn’t hate it,” he added after a long pause. His words fell between you like something delicate something fragile that he hated admitting even as he said it. Your heart skipped a beat. “What?” you whispered.
Leif shifted, rubbing the back of his neck as if he wished he could teleport off the rooftop and disappear. “Just… if there’s going to be a next time,” he muttered, “maybe warn me first. I almost jumped off the edge.”
You blinked. “There’s going to be a next time?” The question left your lips before you could even think about stopping it, and Leif turned to look at you again. Really look at you.
His expression was sharp, yes but there was something softer behind his eyes now. Something amused. Curious. Like he wasn’t sure if he was inviting danger or hoping for it. “Depends,” he said with the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You got the guts to try it again after what just happened?”
You couldn’t help it. The laugh that escaped your mouth was small, surprised, and very, very real. You looked away, cheeks warm, and shook your head and beside you, Leif let out a breath not a laugh, not exactly, but a huff that came close. His shoulders eased. His jaw unclenched and in the quiet that followed, you both sat there, not needing to fill the space with anything more than what had already been said.
Noi
One second, you were both sprawled across the floor of Ava’s living room, flipping through some random Earth magazines, trading snacks and jokes, and laughing at an ad for something called "noise-canceling yoga pants" which made Noi genuinely concerned about how loud pants could be.
The next second, your brain threw out one of those impulsive thoughts. One of those don’t do it, don’t do it, oh no you did it kind of thoughts. You reached up without thinking, without hesitation and gently, almost curiously, placed your hand on one of Noi’s horns.
The world stopped.
Noi’s entire body locked up in your peripheral vision, like someone had frozen time specifically around him. The magazine in his hand slowly fluttered to the floor like a feather. His ears twitched. His shoulders tensed. And then slowly, slowly he turned his head toward you.
His amber eyes were wide, pupils dilated in a way you’d never seen before. His mouth opened slightly like he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. Only a squeaky inhale. Then, in one catastrophic burst of noise, he squealed.
“Y-YOU TOUCHED MY HORN!!” he wailed, launching himself backward with enough force to knock over a lamp and nearly somersault over the back of the couch. He scrambled up, red-faced, flustered beyond reason, and practically vibrating like a kicked puppy.
You blinked, frozen, your hand still slightly raised in the air where his horn had been. “I- Wait- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it!” you stammered. “It was just an impulsive thing! Like your horns are there and I just- my brain went grab.”
Noi covered his face with both hands, whining in mortified Daemonic. “You can’t just grab someone’s horns, that’s like- intimate! It’s like a daemos- I can't tell you!!” His voice cracked on the last word, and you watched as he crouched behind the couch, peeking over the edge with a face so red it was practically radioactive. “Now I’m gonna have to explain this! Rhys is gonna know! He always knows!”
You stared at him, processing. “Wait. Horns are… like romantic?” He groaned. “YES. It’s like… emotional touch territory! Most daemos only let their mate or a healer touch their horns you’re not supposed to just poke them like a button!!” He looked so genuinely distressed, you felt your guilt melt into something softer something warm. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” you said gently, lowering your hand. “I seriously didn’t know. I’d never hurt you on purpose.”
There was a pause. A long, agonizing, silence-filled pause. Noi peeked up from behind the couch. “So… wait… if you did know... would you still have done it?” he asked, voice small and a little hopeful. That caught you off guard.
You tilted your head. “Maybe. Depends if I knew it’d make you blush like that,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. That earned you a muffled yelp and the sound of him thumping his head against the back of the couch in panic. “You’re evil…” he whimpered.
You walked over slowly, kneeling by where he was crouched. “Hey. Noi,” you said softly, reaching out but stopping just shy of touching him. “I didn’t mean to jump over some serious cultural boundary. But now that I know… I don’t want to pretend it didn’t mean something, either. Because I do care about you.” He lifted his head, face still pink but his expression was softer now. “Really?” he asked, voice cracking like his heart didn’t believe it could be true. You nodded. “Really. I didn’t mean to say it with my hands, but… yeah.”
He swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand while the other slowly shakily reached out toward yours. “Okay then,” he mumbled, still pink. “Just… if you’re gonna touch my horns again… can you maybe warn me first? Because otherwise I might scream so loud we break a window or something”
You smiled and gently laced your fingers through his. “Deal" and for the briefest, most precious second, he leaned forward, pressed his forehead lightly to your own his horns just brushing your hairline and whispered in a trembling voice, “Y-you can do it again. Later. If you still want to.” His hand squeezed yours shyly. “Just… just not when we're in a public space"
summary: They gotta just start calling you sexy 'cause this "magic" mojo is making you cringe. Thankfully you've earned a munch this time.
tags: reader is in the same(ish) situation as Ava, reader is funny i promise, confrontation, scuffle and misunderstanding, Size difference, hormones and attraction written off as "magic" and "mental manipulation", Because repressed!Pierce, apology and explanations, sex excused as a medical (magical) necessity/cure, but...they're both just lying, because he can literally not deal with his feelings otherwise, and you don't wanna have to pick up the pieces, lots of cognitive dissonance involved when fucking, submissive!Pierce, dominant!reader, eager!Pierce, reader is still a freak hoe, still strangers to lovers, still has plot, #munch, oh and Pierce totally has an oral fixation
CW!!: explicit content 18+ !!! MDNI !!! mutual deception, size difference (though not harped on), hornplay, oral fixation (Pierce), nipple play, oral (female receiving), submissive male/dominant female, mention of bed humping, cumming from eating someone out
length: 8.07 k words
Day 753 of your newfound prison sentence…
…
Day 6 of your staycation in Ava's house.
Only one of those statements was correct, but both of them rang utterly true.
It had been about a week since you'd been essentially kidnapped and taken prisoner by five DEMONS. Daemons—
WHATEVER.
And while you had the time of your life for about thirty minutes that first day…the rest had been filled with essentially babysitting a group of grown men and slowly losing your sanity with Ava.
"Stop threatening shit, Asch, you don't have any power here."
"How dare you! I am the prince of—!"
"—And I am the head chef of this kitchen—sit the fuck down or get out." You bite back, moving to -lightly- pistol-whip him with your spatula.
spatula-whip him.
"Stop—that's—Ow!" He says, moving his arms to block your hits.
Not like they actually hurt. You had the actual strength of a toddler, and he was…a literal demon.
"Back to work!" You clap your hands, addressing everyone else in the kitchen as well. Him, Rhys, the other blue one…?
Damn, you can never remember his name!
Pierre? Peri?
Something with a P.
Maybe it's just because he never speaks, so he's never addressed, or because you just don't pay enough attention to him…despite his massive size…
…
That totally doesn't intimidate you.
ahem.
Moving back to your steak still on the stove, you soften back up, "Now, how do you want your steak—I'm assuming blue, considering you're an actual hellion."
"I want it red—like normal…? What kind of creature do you have on this Eearth that has blue meat?" Ashe retorts.
…
"Blue rare—" You correct, "It goes, blue-rare, rare, medium-rare, medium, medium-well, and well done."
"I want the one that's the best—"
"It's all personal preference, dude," you assure, "I personally get medium rare. But that's cause I like to pretend I'm sinking my teeth into flesh."
…
…
"What? Y'all eat people." You shrug.
"We don't—" Rhys tries to interject, but you dismiss him.
"We only 'kill people'—yadda yadda yadda." You scoff, "There's gotta be at least one psycho who's done it. Sadism breeds uh—intensity or something."
"Are you trying to quote something?" He asks.
"Nope." You assure, "All from mi mente broha."
"Please don't speak to me in that manner." Rhys mumbles, "I do not know how to properly respond back with the right slang."
'You don't gotta worry—I'm just saying a whole lotta nothing." You assure.
"Give it to me…well done." Asch asserts.
Which makes you scoff.
"What? Is there something wrong with my choice, human?!"
You give a dry laugh, "I know I said there's no wrong choice…but that's absolutely the wrong one."
"If it's not good, then why is it called 'well done'?" He scoffs.
…
Cause it's cooked and done…well.
"I couldn't tell you, bud." You shrug.
"You're lying to me." He states, "You're hiding its secrets so I can't have it for myself. Give it to me!"
…
"One hockey-puck, coming up." You mutter, turning to face the only one you haven't addressed yet, "And for you, big guy?"
And as you do, you find him already fully facing you as well.
In a way that you could tell he's been doing so for a while.
…
You could totally feel it in your bones.
"Hello?" You snap your fingers, your previous question seemingly not reaching his ears.
His eyes blink rapidly, though his face stays solid.
"Blue rare," He says simply.
"Wow…looks like we got another person who loves it raw." You joke, "I'm a connoisseur of it myself, actually."
…
…
That joke would've landed so fucking well with well-adjusted people.
"Right." You mutter, "Back to being a slave."
It's been a while since then, everyone had eaten, had a nice dinner that totally didn't consist of screaming, and everyone had abandoned ship to do their own separate things. Like any self-respecting American household!
…Which left you with the pleasure of cleaning up their mess.
No matter, you fucked with tidying up anyway.
Gave you an excuse to just pop in your headphones and numb out to whatever shitty genre of music you were into at the moment.
At the moment, you were humming out the tune of a song in another language you couldn't even begin to imagine the lyrics of as you stretched out over the table, trying your darnedest to reach the plates on the other side of it.
Because you were far too lazy to make your way around to do it normally.
Still, you manage, before standing back up straight.
…and feeling the rather close presence of someone behind you.
"Holy shit—!" You curse out, jumping back as you turn to see the fucking—
uh.
P man.
heh…
Pee man.
He just blinks, continuing to stare at you despite the genuine reaction of horror you just gave.
"Uh—hey?" You say with a creek in your tone, "What's up? You forget something over here?"
…
"Okay." You mumble, squeezing out of the way and back to the kitchen, where you could drop off the dirty dishes you were still holding.
Though, to your delight…he follows.
For some reason.
"You need something there, buddy?" You ask, leaning back to give yourself some space in the rather tiny kitchen, "I got like—dessert cups? 'Case you got a sweet tooth?"
…
"Uh—water?" You offer, "Fresh from the tap?"
He just…stares.
With those sharp, heavy cerulean eyes.
Eyes that don't convey anything, yet speak a thousand words.
What exactly, you're not sure.
It was probably in Daemos anyway.
You can't help but chew your lip at the attention, shit’s scary, man! But at the same time, you proceed to give him a taste of his own medicine!
To retaliate, of course. To show him that the staring felt weird.
You let your eyes trace against his other features. His strong nose, those funny point ears, his prominent horns…
Huh…
You don't think you've gotten a good look at him ever.
…Probably because you were scared shitless of his utter aura.
You're only human after all.
But now that you have…he's rather soft-looking. Despite the stature and the stoicness.
His lips are a soft plush, his expression is far more neutral than the hardened scowl you'd imagine, his cheeks were particularly full and bright…and tinged darker than the rest of his sienna skin…
God, you wished you had a natural blush like that.
"Human." He finally says, making you jump in surprise.
Out of the suddenness of it.
…because of the bass of his voice.
"Yeah?" You reply rather weakly, your hand coming up to play with the collar of your shirt.
"I had an inquiry." He states.
…
about?
"Go on?" you ask, "I'm uh—all ears?"
Truly though. What could he possibly need?
He doesn't seem the kind to be a knowledge seeker. Far more of a rule follower. A proper knight.
Not just cause of the whole—height and build thing.
…God, why are you so hyper-focused on that?
With your permission, he seems to grow…redder. Like what he wanted to ask was something…
…
No. It couldn't be something embarrassing.
Did you accidentally leave something out? A feminine item? Personal garments?
"Noi has brought something to my attention." He starts.
…
…?
"…yeah?" you ask.
"And I was curious as to…what exactly he was on about."
Your face slightly drops. You don't think you've really spoken to him since…
He couldn't have.
"Well, I'm sure I can help with that," you assure with a strained voice, "I'm an open book."
Pierce takes a moment before finally spitting it out.
"He said you had this kind of magic. Something that he was rambling on about being akin to…mind magic?"
…
They're fucking with you.
"Mind magic?" You repeat.
"He said that when he was sent over to spy on you the first day…you had bewitched him." He explains, "And ever since then…he hasn't been able to get you out of his head."
…
…
"Really now." You say in an empty tone. Half-shocked and half-over whatever this was already.
"Yes, it appeared to be a rather powerful bind you put on him," He assures.
"Who exactly else did he tell this to?" You cut him off quickly, a strained grin on your face, "—Just curious, is all."
"Only me." He states, "Why? Is it because it's a secret spell?"
…
You could call it that, sure.
"Because if it is, I understand." He assures, "I know you didn't know us back then. And we ambushed you. You were in a situation far out of your control."
As if you've gotten to know them in the last 6 days?
"I can imagine that was your way of fighting back." He says, "a noble way of fighting with honor."
…
You sucked a guy's dick cause you were bored.
"Why are you even asking?" You ask.
"I want to confirm if you indeed have the abilities of a sorceress." He explains.
"Because..?"
"I am simply curious." He states, "I haven't seen a mind magic user in a long time."
That's her label now…fun!
"…uh—well…I guess, yeah. I do," you admit.
Well, mind magic could be considered basic physiology…or manipulation.
Seduction in this case.
…
"But is that all…?" You decide to continue.
The conversation would leave off on a weird note otherwise.
Like—oh yeah—now you know I fuck! Cool!
…God do these pe—daemons even know way fucking is…?
He looked confused.
—his version of confused. Which was just a slightly tilted frown and knitted brows.
"…Your secret is also safe with me," he says with an unsure tone, but gives you a firm nod.
"So you just wanted to confirm?" You push, "That's the only reason…?"
…
You can see his cheeks redden again. How his eyes shift away before nodding.
"Of course, human." He mutters, "It is good to understand your enemy."
"I'm your enemy..?"
"Opponent—possible opponent."
"I'm not gonna fight you, dude." You assure.
"…but you seem to always fight Asch." He states, "and then Noi—"
"Yeah—cause your prince is an ass." You scoff, "And Noi was a one-time thing—uh…"
What the fuck were you supposed to say? That it was self-defense?
That would imply that it was simply a reaction to Noi doing something. Nothing intentional…
Nah, you meant that shit.
"I imagined he'd be able to handle it." You admit, crossing your arms, "Didn't think he'd still have…some side effects."
…
You can't blame him. For either thing.
You know you're good at giving dome, for one!
But you guess, more importantly, you never told him to keep it a secret.
….Honestly, you just imagined he knew better than to snitch.
"He…is rather weak." He admits, "He is the weakest out of all of us."
"Well, now you tell me," you mutter.
There's another big pause of silence.
A common occurrence in conversations with him, it seems…
Because really, how are you supposed to continue a conversation with a wall?
"How proficient are you with these skills?" He finally asks.
…
"Why do you ask?"
He furrows his brow in what seems to be sincerity as continuing, "I want to ensure that you aren't manifesting your magic involuntarily. It could be a hazard."
…?
"Does that happen…normally?" You ask.
"If one is proficient enough."
"And by asking that, you're inadvertently telling me you think it's my fault Noi is still…"
Pussy-whipped? drunk with love?
Take your pick, they're all partially true, it seems.
…despite the lack of communication…
huh.
As world-renowned philosopher Megan Thee Stallion once said,
"Damn, I knew my shit was heat."
Though that's in reference to full intercourse and not—
never mind, semantics.
"I cannot be certain." He says, "But he hasn't been the same since."
…
…HA!
"And you're fearing it could spread." You finish the thought for him.
"Concerned." He corrects, "We cannot do our job if that is the case."
"Well…I'm not trying to hinder your abilities to do your jobs," You assure, "And I'm not doing it unconsciously either."
"Okay."
"Now, you're concerned about your pal…but you've admitted he's the weakest out of all of you," You repeat, "I'm sure whatever he's going through is an extinction burst, so to speak…he'll be fine in like…"
Hours? Day?
Give or take a few years if some of your exes count as data points.
"A bit?"
"You sound unsure." He states.
"It really depends." You admit slowly, "But he's the first…daemon I've ever had—"
His eyebrows furrow deeper at the confession.
"…the opportunity of using my magic on…"
Damn, and you were just gonna compliment yourself on your ability to lie.
"And you chose Noi." He states, his body language bristling. Like that offended him for whatever reason.
Why would he even care?
"Not voluntarily!" You assure, "You said it yourself, I was just defending myself. It could've well been you if you were unlucky enough to be sent."
It's not like they seemed concerned before! They didn't seem relieved when he came back in one piece…nor were they vigilant when he was being too loud and…
…damn, they really didn't give a fuck.
"Actually—yeah." You say, "If you were actually so concerned about Noi, he wouldn't have been the one sent to spy on a being you were unsure was capable of magic? If anything, it should've been you, Mr.Paladin."
"I'm not concerned." He asserts, his even tone voice growing in volume just slightly, "We sent him because he's expendable, but now because of whatever you did, he's just insufferable."
"And that's my fault?" You scoff.
"You are the one who caused his current demeanor."
"And you're the one who sent him!" you argue back, "Two-way street, buddy! Should've thought of that before sending that idiot my way."
"We didn't imagine that you had these powers." He argues back, taking a step forward and causing you to fall back against the counter.
…Not this alpha shit.
You would rather choke to death than have him try to intimidate you in the way he's doing.
"Yeah—well now you do." You retort, puffing up to try to give yourself something of equal footing, "And now what? What do you want me to do about it? We both fucked up and—"
"—To stop using your powers!" He utters in frustration, his hands planting themselves firmly on either side of your frame, essentially caging you in.
…
…?
"What the hell are you talking about?" You ask, face scrunched in utter confusion.
"I know you're lying." He whispers, tone low and gravelled. Like he was in actual pain?
"..about?"
"About using your magic." He grumbles, "You're doing it right now."
You're fucking kidding.
"Why would I lie—"
"Because that's how you take down your enemies." He spits, leaning down, "You lull them into the trap and slowly suck the life force out of them."
…
You could make a joke about sucking right now, but you're too pissed off to bother.
"Admit it." He says, his tone dark and threatening. His lips barely hover over yours.
That earns an exasperated huff from your chest, you can't help but suck your teeth at his pathetic display of power.
"…And you call Noi the weak one." You snark before shoving him back.
A task that was far easier than you imagined.
Maybe cause he was too busy being horny to function correctly.
But in any case, you took that opportunity to dip out.
You fucking hated force.
As much as you wanted to be flattered that you got 2 outta 5 nonhuman entities wrapped around your fingers, you can't help but simmer at the absolute stupidity that just took place.
If you wanted a man to impose himself on you, you would've gone to the club…
oh wait! You can't!
You're trapped here!!!!
You can't even get sexually harassed if you wanted to!
Not like you ever wanted to.
It's just another slap in the face, you guess.
As you continue to grumble, you shimmy yourself out of your shirt and kick off your sweats, throwing them somewhere in the home office that was your makeshift guest room.
God, those beasts get a whole manor, and you're stuck with sleeping on the floor.
What a beautiful way to live.
Stupid Pee man.
—Stupid Noi!
He can forget having you spin the block for his dumb ass.
…
Ugh. You can't commit to that…he's adorable.
NOT important!
You still need to be mad about what's-his-face.
…Fucking dumbass, believing the mind magic shit—the…
-knock knock knock-
…
You give a small huff, moving over to the door.
"What?" You say through the door, "Who goes there?"
"It is me."
A familiar deep voice announces.
"Nope! Closed for business!" You say back.
"But—"
"Lalalalalala!" You sing out, covering your ears, "Hear that? That's our closing jingle, you just missed us!"
"Human…" He says anyway. Despite your extremely mature and convincing response.
"Whoa! I didn't know people didn't respect jingles! How uncultured!"
"Human." He repeats.
"'Cause unless you're the tax man, I don't gotta serve you nothing—!"
"I apologize for my outburst."
…
he…
"I did not mean to upset you."
…
With care, you unlock the door until only your head is poking out. You squint at him, giving him a questioning look, "Go on…"
"I unfortunately got overwhelmed with the involuntary enchantment you exude." He admits, looking away.
…god damn it.
"As I've already explained, I don't do that." You sigh, "Whatever you're feeling is not of my doing."
Which doesn't seem to please him. If his pursed lips are anything to go by.
"…But are you sure?" He pushes.
"Completely." You deadpan.
His face contorts into something akin to a grimace. A painful scrunch of his face as he looks to be internally figuring out what's wrong with him.
…
He looks constipated.
And like he's about to explode.
—which…kind of is the exact same thing.
…
On further inspection, he might actually die.
"Uh! You know what?" You start roughly, "I actually think I've made a mistake!"
His face relaxes, if only a smidge, as you continue, "Let me go into my—sacred chambers for like a second…"
You shut the door again, before turning and pretending to shuffle around some papers. As if you were looking for something.
"Oh, I swear—my brain must be—oh no!" You say loud enough so he can hear you struggling behind the door.
"Ugh, I'm so—uh…forgetful!" You sigh before making your way back to the door.
You're met with his now calm face. Patiently waiting for your totally real excuse.
"I left my—mana restrainer open?" You admit, "Must've been exuding massive…mana…waves."
He just tilts his head, confused but not fighting against your excuse.
like he believed it.
Hell yeah!
"Have you shut it yet?" He asks, trying to lean in to peak, "Because I am still feeling waves…"
…
shit.
He still needs to get rid of those feelings. You pretending to turn it off won't get rid of hormones!
…Do Daemons even have hormones?
"I—uh can't!" You admit.
"…You cannot?" He asks.
"Unfortunatly—uh…once it's bound to someone…"
Fuck how do you spin this?
"It latches on until I…remove the energy from them?"
…
You were gonna say suck, but that's just juvenile.
"Can you do that?" He asks, "I cannot let the others see me like this."
"Yes…" You mumble, "But it'll take some extreme…measures. Depending on what works."
"What are the measures?"
… Lord, forgive you.
"…Physical touch?" You say, wincing in cringe.
…
The soft red that was once on his cheeks blooms on every inch of his face. You could almost see steam blooming from his forehead.
And yet despite that, his expression stays stone cold neutral, his voice rocking into a soft, "That'll be…fine."
"along with that…" You continue, "I will try to desensitize you from feeling this way…save you the future pain in case it goes haywire again."
You give a pathetic laugh before, "Technology, man…"
A joke that doesn't land…
And a promise that you knew you couldn't assure…considering any previous pity fucks you've given out have manifested into men who would not leave you alone.
"Exposure therapy, we call it."
"I have not heard of this…ther-rahpy." He admits.
Wow, you could have never guessed…
"Is this a common practice in your field of magic?"
…
"Kind of." You admit, "But my means are—"
broad, different, strange?
“Unique…" you decide, "—It's a very delicate niche I possess, you see."
Sex appeal. That's the niche, apparently.
"What can I expect?" He asks.
"Who knows?" You admit, "It'll…depend heavily on how you react."
"I am not weak. I can handle anything."
Is that what he got from that?
"Right." You say, "First test then."
You let the door open wider, letting him finally take a good look at what you've been hiding.
—Your body, that is.
You've been half-naked this entire time.
"How's this making you feel?"
"How did you get undressed so fast..?" He asks, his cheeks still glowing red.
"I have my ways." You shrug, moving up to grab his hands, "So..?"
"I am fine." He clears his throat, "I am a grown man, I have seen plenty of bodies barely clad."
Ah…really?
"Of course," You mumble sarcastically, "Such a great knight must be drowning in prospects."
"Not for me," He assures, "I just happen to be around."
"Noble." You hum, guiding him to sit on the desk chair near the corner.
"You okay with the next step?" You ask softly, squeezing his hands.
"That is…?"
"Touching me?" You say lightly.
…
"Yeah—" He coughs, "Of course. I've touched plenty of bodies, as well."
Oh, of course.
"Have you done it like…this?" You ask sweetly, guiding his hands to your hips. Sliding them up and down, helping one find its place on your rear and the other cupping your chest.
"…not particularly." He admits. His eyes flicker between your face and his hands touching your skin.
…
Oh hell yes.
You didn't know what you expected…but it certainly wasn't a sweet, almost shy giant.
You can feel his fingers yearn to squeeze. The digits barely flexing against your soft skin.
"You're okay…" You coo, "Squeeze me…"
You hear what almost sounds like a whine bellow in his throat as his hands gently do as you command. His firm, calloused touch feels just right against your plush body.
"Good boy~" You whisper, feeling his fingers roll once over before stopping.
"C'mon…you can keep going."
"mh—" He looks up to you with uncertainty in his eyes. That and clear restraint.
"I can take it, baby." You assure, "I'm not made of sugar…"
He practically melts as he lets his hand knead against the fat of both your ass and breast, giving out tiny, incomprehensible whines.
You mewl in response, the dedicated but clumsy actions making you sigh, "Feel any better, honey?"
He doesn't clearly respond; instead, keeping his attention on the way your skin dents against his touch, how it springs back after he releases, like a nicely proofed dough.
You can't help but giggle at his fascination, "What's so interesting?" You hum, petting his hair as he shifts his hands to sit fully on your ass.
"You like it there better?" You ask softly.
"Mh…" he barely answers, looking up to you as he continues to knead the stress ball that was your body.
To which you just laugh and caress his face, boop his nose, and play with his soft lips. Flicking his bottom one and pulling the other one up to see his sharp caines.
"Such a pretty knight." You whisper, "So perfectly sweet."
"How are you doing?" You ask him softly, "Still feeling the magic?"
Almost immediately, he shakes his head, "'s getting worse."
Oh no…it's almost like foreplay makes things exponentially harder…
…
Heh. Hard.
But like also, that was the point. You had to prep him before you blew his mind.
If you didn't, he'd probably die on the spot.
"How about we step it up slightly?" You offer, moving to slip into place onto his lap, "How's this feel…?"
As you shimmy into place, you could feel him twitch against your lightly clothed cunt.
…
Fuck it feels massive…
You bite your lip as you let yourself rock for a moment.
"—You doing okay, lovely?" You say slightly breathless, letting yourself loosen up with the texture of his needy cock.
"Ahah…" he nods wordlessly. His hands let go of their grasp because of the intensity.
giving you just the right chance to trail them to your thighs.
"Just as good here?" You ask softly, helping them massage.
He just nods softly, his head tucking itself into your chest.
And you continue to grind down against him, you can feel his lips flutter against your skin. Soft, gentle kisses place themselves between your boobs.
Soft, delicate touches that trail wherever he takes them. Adorable, until you feel his tongue swipe out subtly. The sensation is making you shiver.
To which he just continues, open-mouthed kisses against your stomach, just below your chest.
Like he was obsessed.
Through a soft huff, you can hear him mumble to himself, "Gods—your skin tastes so sweet."
…
You're gonna leave this man twitching.
"You know what might make you feel better?" You mumble, tilting his head back up.
"Mh?" He asks softly, letting his head tilt in your hands. With utter care and gentle movements, you manage your bra off, exposing yourself to him.
"Try these," You mumble.
Though he seems confused about what you're offering.
…
Perhaps Daemons don't explore pleasure that isn't just "copulation" for the sake of procreation.
They seem like a barbaric enough group. That's how it was in medieval times…were they in medieval times?
They seem to be around the same area.
Which then would mean they probably only have sex for the mechanisms and not the experience…
…
wait.
That's probably why Noi believed you put a curse on him. And why this one thinks you got some magical aura.
…They don't understand what a hook-up is. Or being horny for no reason…or finding people attractive for reasons other than genetic benefits or kingdom stuff…
Shit!
It's so obvious, too!
You just thought he was grossly, irrevocably repressed.
You can work with this, though.
"Try putting your mouth on them." You offer, helping one of his hands back up to cup you correctly.
He gives a gentle hum, a tinge of red blooming on him again, "I…am not a baby, though?"
…
?
"What?"
"There is no use." He says, "I do not need sustenance."
"I—" You scoff out a laugh, "I don't produce—Dude."
"What?"
"It's not for—woman don't lactate unless they're pregnant," you deadpan.
"Then what is the point?"
…
Does that imply he'd do it if you did?
"I just think you'd mess with it." You admit, "You clearly like using your mouth to 'explore'…we call that an 'oral fixation' around these parts."
You can watch his mouth purse for a moment, like he was debating it.
"I will attempt this 'fixation' on the oral then." He whispers, "If it'll calm me down."
Boldly, he catches your nipple with an open mouth, making sure to engulf it all at once.
He's tentative with his tongue motions, mostly trying to get a hang of it…
But once you feel his cock twitch again, you know you got him hook, line, and sinker.
A low groan comes from him as his eyes lull, his lips managing to start sucking.
God, he's a fast learner.
To which you mewl sweetly, your own hands moving to grip his hair, "Oh fuck~ Pretty boy…"
The name earns a louder groan, his mouth sucking harder.
"There you go…" You muse, letting your hips grind down in response.
As a reward…
To be greedy.
Let's face it, you're already getting the lifetime of a reward by letting him do that. Did you need more stimulation?
Of course!
"Try the other one." You whisper, helping his chin to your left side.
A gruff, satisfied moan comes from him as he shuts his eyes fully, "…I wish I had two mouths…" He whines, lapping against the whole of your perk.
God, you're basically a wizard at this.
You can't help but chuckle at that, "You're so silly…"
God…you couldn't imagine how he'd be if you let him…
Now that's just biblical greed.
Ugh.
But how long has it been since you've gotten top?!
Too long.
No.
This is about him…technically.
You can't really spin that into something that benefits him.
Maybe a reward…
No.
But you did wanna see something.
If he thinks your skin’s sweet, then he'd go insane for this…
"You wanna see something else, honey?" You whisper, leaning in against the top of his head.
"mhm~" He nods, not letting up on your skin.
"It's where all my magic comes from." You can't help but chuckle at the concept.
God, it's corny, but it's also technically true!
"…Mh?" He sighs, letting his mouth pop from one of your now glistening nipples, "You're being?"
"Kind of..but, it's one of my greatest tools." You joke, helping one of his big hands cup between your legs, right against your already soaked panties.
"You know about this, don't you?" You ask softly, "You're not so unaware."
…
He almost forgets to respond. Only managing a shallow nod.
You giggle softly, guiding his hand to brush your panties to the side, just enough to expose your heated cunt to the cold air of the room.
"You're warm." He whispers, only feeling the warmth emitted by it as his digits are just barely hovering, "…do you have fire magic, as well?"
…
He hasn't touched a pussy in all his life, has he?
"No…I'm just that powerful," You joke, "You think you can handle it…?"
He nods, quickly. Almost a hair needy.
You guide him slowly, helping him feel out your puffy clit. Might as well get him a head start on identifying that…
You can feel his breath hitch. His body stilling worse as you guide him down, right to where you're soaking.
"You're sopping." He mumbles, "Is that…"
"Normal? Expected?" You whisper, trying to keep an even tone, "yeah…but only cause I like you…"
…
Slowly, he manages his middle and his ring to slide around, carefully feeling the slick of your excitement, the inviting warmth of your core, the—
"Fuck~" you whine, feeling as his thick digits push into you with no resistance…
God, you're down worse than you imagined.
"Are you okay?" He jumps up, concerned, "Did I do something—"
"Mph…no—" you assure breathlessly, "just…try, pushing in further?"
He tilts his head, confused but obliging you.
"—and then out again?"
You shudder softly, feeling him stretch you out, if only a little.
God, you haven't been fuck in so long, you might as well be a virgin.
"Keep doing that, honey?" You assure, "in and out…"
And he does…just trying to figure it out.
"Does it feel nice, honey? Does it feel weird?" You ask, petting his head.
He can't help but nod, his eyes low and focused as he continues to test the waters. Slowly finding a rhythm.
"A little bit," he admits, exasperation at his tone, "It's like…you're sucking them in."
"That's just the magic working." You joke, "This is where I'm most powerful."
"…you're taking it so greedily." He whispers, pushing them again as far as he could. His palm rubbing against your clit.
While that’s only an observation from him in the moment. The way he utters it makes you clench. It's the closest thing to dirty talk you've heard since you started.
He notices, slightly jumping at the friction, "Can you do that on command?"
You mean, you could…not generally, but kegles help.
"No…that just means I really like you." You hum softly.
That gets something of a chuckle from him, a soft, introspective one.
Well—as introspective as he could be while fingering you.
He seemed rather busy putting all his effort there. Obsessively, as some may call it.
Seems he rather enjoyed it.
But you know what he might really like…?
The thought pops into your mind with astounding applause. You know he'd practically die.
"Baby," you whisper, "try this…"
You help his unwilling hand away from your needy pussy. Despite his will to keep himself in and continue “doing his job". Gently, you guide his hands up and show him the glistening slick now sliding off of them.
God, you'd be so embarrassed if you cared. Just realizing how soaked you are for some stranger.
"Pull them apart," you command, showing him how he should part his fingers.
To let him watch the liquid split and connect them anyway. A string of your essence, like a web in between them.
"You wanna try it?" You ask gently.
"Try…?" He mumbles, confused but certainly intrigued.
"Like taste it." You giggle.
"I can do that?" He utters.
"Well…yeah." You assure, "It's not bad for you."
But really, depending on the person, it could suck. Not like that would apply to you—
With clear hesitation, he brings his fingers to his face, gently licking off what he can.
Just one swipe at first…before his composure falters and he finally tastes it.
As subtle as he tries to come off, you can see the exact moment your juice hits his taste buds. The moment it hits his system like crack.
Maybe it was just the way he speeds up his lapping and his eagerness to get every drop, or the rush to settle his fingers back into place…to collect more…to get you to produce more…
You had a hunch.
Despite the race, he focuses back on you with diligence.
A soft lull in action in favor of him just—
"Do you think…my mouth would work better?" He asks a little desperately, disruptively into the softness now, "to—pull the mana out…I mean."
Huh?
"What D'ya mean, honey?" You whisper, too focused on his fingers to really comprehend whatever he's saying.
"You are saying that this is where your magic derives…" he tries explaining, "So that means this is where the excess mana is stored and leaking out of, I'm sure."
Fuck—you almost forgot the lie.
Too busy with your cunt being bullied politely by his hand to care about anything else.
"You said I needed to rid you of the energy?"
"Just—get rid of the energy." You correct.
"—and I don't—I think that would be inefficient?" You admit, not wanting to push him into it despite your need. You were honestly just gonna suck him off to call it even, but…
"I don't think so." He slightly asserts, "It just makes sense."
…
Is he fighting to eat you out?
No—like he said…he's under the impression that this is… a necessity.
Which…now realizing the circumstances that brought you here…
"How so?" You shudder softly, ignoring your own mind.
"How would it be inefficient if I'm pulling it directly from the source?" He continues, "I'm doing good right now. I think I could make a difference then."
To emphasize his point, he looks up at you with his soft, pleading eyes.
"You said my mouth was powerful."
…?
That makes you scoff out an amused laugh, "I never said anything of the sort."
He just gives a soft huff as he places his head against your bare skin. Looking up with soft, soulful eyes, silently pleading for you to let him.
…
Overgrown puppy dog.
That should only work with someone like Noi—how dare he?
…
But damn if it isn't working.
"You wouldn't rather have me touch you?" You ask, "Pull the poison from you?"
"You haven't cast anything on me." He mutters, "There's nothing in my system."
You can't help but laugh at that, "so then how do you think I cursed you?"
…
"…" his face morphs into a slight grimace, like he had been caught by his own words.
"It is…dependent on the type of magic." He overcorrects by keeping his face straight, his fingers thrusting slightly faster, "but I am not familiar with them…so I am unsure."
"Because you're a knight and not a scholar?" You give a tiny laugh.
To which he nods subtly, "But, I think that…the aura exuding from you will soften when I uh—"
"Eat me out?" You say out loud, giving him a rushing red tint.
"I will not eat you." He assures, "That is a part of the cruel and unusual punishments you and Ava set up—cannibalism, or however you call it, is it not?"
Close enough.
"…well, there's no harm in trying it, is there?" you coo, letting your fingers slide down to trace the print of his dick despite it, "But, are you sure you don't want anything?"
His face is emboldened with embarrassment. His hand stutters with their rhythm.
"Yes—I mean…" He clears his throat, "I cannot let myself be distracted from the goal."
"Alright." You relent gently, but still help yourself to dipping your finger behind the hem of his pants, "But…can't you let him breathe for me, please?"
You needed to see what he's got packing. It's been itching at you since you watched it bloom right under you.
"Him—" He mutters in confusion before he corrects himself, "Of course…If that's what you want."
"Well, of course, it's bad for the process," you assure.
It was pure curiosity…mixed with the needed assurance that he wasn't going to absolutely cream his only set of clothes.
…not like you assumed he'd cum while eating you out.
You were only hoping.
Quickly, you two move over to the bed of pain and suffering (your makeshift mattress on the floor) and settle on your knees. On the way, you help him out of those silly pants.
"You want to keep the shirt on?" You ask softly, keeping your finger on his boxers.
"I—" He looks away, "I think so."
"No problem." You assure, "These though…gotta come off."
You giggle as you slowly pull them off, watching carefully how it strains the length of his deprived cock, pulling it flat against his thigh as long as you take to fully take it off.
What can you say? You love the journey.
Until, of course, it bobs up, standing proud. Thick, natural, and utterly desperate.
…And you said Noi's dick was nice.
"…will you get embarrassed if I said I'd die happy if I got to sit on that?" You decide to utter for no particular reason. Out of nervousness, probably. This is definitely one of the bigger ones you've had to deal with…
Maybe you're rather glad he decided to repress himself enough to shut down any physical affection directed to him. You couldn't imagine how you'd make it fit…
…or could you?
"…Why would you sit on it?" He asks in confusion.
…
"Who knows?" Is all you reply, simply glad he gave you an unintentional out.
"Uh—but…" you move to lie on your back, putting your weight on your forearms so you can watch him, before spreading your legs open just the right amount.
Right…totally attractive and not like you're at the gyno's office…
Maybe that's just cause he's just standing back and…watching.
Starting at the gift you've placed at his feet—knees? Slightly open-mouthed and dumbfounded.
…wait fuck—you're still…
"How 'bout you unwrap me now?" You offer, letting your legs close up to lift them up straight in the air together playfully, "You can try with it on…But I think you'll get annoyed."
That and you're not entirely sure he won't just chew your lace off like a fucking piece of gum.
"Y-yeah—yeah." He nods quickly, moving closer to do just that…
With delicate hands and some shuffling, he helps peel off your (embarrassingly) soaked undergarments from your equally embarrassing cunt.
And with the way he's looking at it now…it must be a fucking world record.
"Whenever you're ready, love." You assure, letting your foot lightly tap his shoulder. To knock him out of the daze…get this show on the road…
"mh…" He responds halfheartedly, shuffling into a comfortable position, helping you spread out your thighs with his large hands. His grip indenting your soft flesh.
Maybe if he kept it there long enough, you'll have a sick bruise to recall this later on.
"Like this…?" He whispers, leaning down to just hover where you need him. The breath of his words ghosted a touch onto your sensitive clit.
"Mhm…" You nod gently, "However, you think you wanna do it."
…you'll correct him later on.
And with the confirmation, he lulls his tongue out, taking the flat of it against the entirety of your anatomy and licking a line straight up it.
That of course makes you shiver, your hand already moving to grip his hair.
At that, he seems to hesitate. Stopping in his tracks for just a moment…
Then, he gives another one, this time keeping his focus on your entrance. Exactly where that nectar he was craving was seeping from.
An audible moan hits your skin as his mouth attaches to it. Its vibration is causing you to instinctively squeeze your thighs.
To which he only grumbles, forcing them back into place. All without him flicking his eyes up.
Far too busy scooping up exactly what he's been begging for. His tongue pushes itself further into your core, searching for more.
Whining when he can't reach any further.
Groaning as he manages to figure out how to replicate his earlier fingering with his tongue.
And finally, humming as his actions help coax out even more of your honey.
Like a damn…oil rig—
Fuck~
You're trying to keep yourself from falling back and becoming immobilized. But how could you when—
"Ahh~" You whimper, feeling the bridge of his nose press against your neglected clit. Rubbing into it as he presses his face as close as he can.
You'd be scared he couldn't breathe…if it weren't for the fact that he was breathing so fucking heavy. The hot air of it fans the cooling slick still caked on your inner thighs. Against the saliva of that first test swipe.
Your hips can't help themselves as they grind against his nose. Nor can your hands as you pet his hair, scratch his scalp, push his head closer.
…grip onto his horns.
A pathetic-sounding groan emits from the heart of his chest, rising up and through to his tongue. Flooding your velvet walls with that delicious resonance.
"Oh fuck—" You say breathlessly, keeping your hands there, gripping onto them with a now desperate need. Using them as handle bars to keep him right there.
How could you not when he's basically a human rabbit vibrator now?
You can see his eyes roll back into his skull, reacting to your needy actions. A pathetic cry, and sloppier actions. Which make him groan, one that sounds more annoyed than desperate.
And then he seems to change his tune.
Instead of keeping himself cocooned in your cunt, he's moving out to clean out the rest of your anatomy. The slick, his drool. Whatever he could fix—
Or figure out better.
Because he seemed to need that.
The texture of your folds, the shivering you give as he teases your slit, the audible cry heard as he laps at your clit.
That seems to do him in.
His attention draws itself there, the tip of his tongue circling around your clit, poking at it, pressing flat against it. His mouth occasionally sucking on it. Only enough to make you sob again…before cycling back to the soft stuff.
Actions that draw unfinished sentences from your mouth. Babbles that you're sure have some meaning, but that you're too fucked to figure out fully.
…only getting worse as you notice one of his hands removing itself from your thighs, and finding its way right at your entrance.
Two digits.
Pointer and middle, slowly sinking back into your needy cunt. Your pussy sucking them in just as greedily as his mouth was in that moment.
Hugging them tight. Almost uncomfortably, as they have to fight to start their rhythm.
In and out…in…out.
Curl.
"Fuck me!~" You cry, lulling your head back at the sensation.
Who the fuck taught him that?!
"You cannnn––hng~ Puh…" You slur, your hand moving to push his head away. To trying to fucking—stop him?! Or—something…let yourself breathe for like half a second. Because you will not be outclassed by a man eating pussy for the first time!
Unfortunately though, his unused hand still on your thigh grips your flesh harder, holding you in place and ripping it open further to compensate for the other one trying to close up. And as well, in what you deem punishment, he starts sucking against your bud for longer.
"Fuuuuuck." You groan, your nails scraping his horn instead.
Did you just jolt because he's tonguing your shit? Or doing that stupid—fuckin' curling or—
"Pierce! Holy shit—" You gasp loudly, his name finding its way to your consciousness as he speeds up his movements, The motions of him piercing into you making you come to, "Ohhh fuck! Just like that—mh—I'm gonna—"
You whimper. Your eyes are blearing tears. Your mouth hangs wide as you let out pathetic, longing moans.
Cumming before you could even warn him.
…and just your luck that he's coaxed you to squirt too.
…lucky fucking bastard.
You feel the point of no return, like an actual geyser. And when the liquid hits him as well.
He jolts back, shocked.
Blinking up to find your exhausted, euphoric face watching his in (relative) horror. Scanning over you to see the tiny jolts of pleasure running through you in the aftermath. Examining the gushing mixture of actual ejaculation, slick, squirt, and his own saliva splay your lower half like he was admiring a Jackson Pollock painting.
and…he doesn't say anything.
Instead, he just watches it. For a moment.
Before his large hand moves to wipe some of it off. Running along your slit and making you shiver even more.
He himself, bated breath and flushed face. Eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to compute what the hell just happened.
"Was that…all of it?" He asks, clearing his hoarse throat, distracted by playing with the liquid.
"I don't…" You try to respond, "Prob…eh…"
You just flop back instead, too unbothered to try to assure him that he did a good job.
…
And you felt then that you were going to pass out. Exhausted? Drained? Utterly satisfied?
Until he speaks up again, "…I think I got distracted."
"Huh?"
You do your best to look back at him, now sitting up on his knees. Hands politely tucked behind his back, and his stomach glistening. Drawing your attention down it and to his equally spent cock. Dribbling his own release.
"Hah…" You manage a laugh, sitting up to look at where he was lying.
Just as expected…a pool of his own excitement.
…sweeeeet.
"I'm sorry for the mess on your bed." He apologizes gently, "You were tugging on my horns and…the friction from the bed felt too good to stop."
"nah—'s fine." You dismiss, a wry, depraved smile finding your lips at the image. Him pathetically humping against the sheets as he ate you out. Pretending he was fucking into your sloppy cunt. Probably desperate to get his turn in there.
...Or maybe it was from the excess energy he had when tasting you. That manifests itself into an unconscious action that he was unaware was happening until he was flowing against your bed...and rubbing into his stomach...but that didn't stop him from continuing to use his messy release as the perfect kind of lube.
ugh.
You'd cum again just from the idea.
"I've seen worse…"
…
"…I think, though…that that must've frayed my focus from my objective." He continues, his tone turning slightly desperate, breathless as his eyes try to level themselves on your face and not your well-loved pussy, "I believe…there might still be some mana left. If I could…can I continue? To—uh, ensure it’s all gone."
…
This was gonna be a long night.
I didn't think I'd enjoy writing for Pierce as much as I did. But you never know unless you try. plus i totally didn't mean to write 8k words...that's A LOT.
Requested by a lovely anon! Motivated me enough to actually do it instead of lounge around and screw off. Though I did take some creative liberties...
He's just a munch dems da rules unfortunately - hunnithan
How would Rhys and Pierce react that reader who a friend of Ava is a witch?
OOOOO I love this idea!! Rhys and Pierce are not my number one characters so forgive me if I screw up their personalities a bit but here goes!!
Warnings: slight suggestive content, I am not a practicing witch so I intentionally left it a little vague when it came to actual practices, some language, slight violence in Pierce's oneshot, lmk if I missed anything!
It hadn't been more than a month since Ava called me screaming and crying over some 'demons' taking over her life.
"Please you have to get them out!! They're driving me crazy!!"
"Get them out?? I'm not an exorcist! I'm a witch!! And a new one at that! I can barely cast a hex much less dispel evil spirits! Girl, call a priest!!" Aca and I have always had each other's backs, ever since high school. I was always the one she would call when she needed something and considering how lonely we both were and how hard it became for her to rely on other people, I felt it was an honor. Though she did overdo it from time to time.
"Spirits? What no! There's actually five men in my house claiming to be demons!!" Wait what...
"IT'S DAEMOS HUMAN!!! CORRECT IT OR I WILL!!!" The unfamiliar voice on the other end of the phone made my heart sink to the floor and I immediately grabbed my keys and a can of wasp spray and raced out the door.
That was about two weeks ago, and I haven't left Ava alone since. They don't seem intent on taking advantage of her 'hospitality', but I wasn't going to take any chances. Especially not with how comfortable she had grown letting them wander about her house unsupervised. One of them went through her bra drawer like a lunatic for crying out loud!!! talking about 'sources of power' and what not.
Creeps...
Rhys, the only one who seemed relatively well adjusted, came and sat next to me at the kitchen counter. I kept my eyes glued to the cards in front of me.
The Tower Upright...
interesting
"Excuse me, I don't mean to intrude. What are those?"
A distracted smile makes its way to my face as I continue to shuffle the cards, another pops out. "Tarot cards. And you're not intruding as long as you don't take them from me like Asch did."
The Chariot reversed...
Rhys lets out a nervous chuckle and continues to inspect my actions. "Do they...do anything?"
I steal a glance; his brows are pressed together in concentration and his eyes pass between expectance and curiosity. "More or less. They're kind of like a guiding tool. We can use them to better understand ourselves and connect with the universe around us. They can be a useful way to prepare for coming events, or to better handle current ones. But most people don't believe in it so it's whatever I guess."
He gasps slightly. "Intriguing. So you use them to see the future and read minds?"
The snort that came out of me was far from intentional, but I honestly had no other idea how to react to that statement. "I mean, sure something like that."
"Can you read mine?"
I turned to him. "You want me to do a tarot reading for you?"
He nodded with more excitement than I had seen from any of them besides the pink one. I shrugged and began to reshuffle the cards. "Fine but just a basic one. I'm still a new witch and I don't wanna hear anything mean or judgy from someone who doesn't even-"
"You're a witch??"
For some reason I felt my blood run cold. I felt like a bug under a microscope, and I couldn't tell if the gaze he had fixed me with was simply observation, or calculation. Similar feelings with vastly different intentions. But both managed to send a shiver down my spine and a reluctant blush to my cheeks.
All I could muster was a nod before forcing myself back to shuffling.
"That's incredible!! Why did you not tell us before! Ava told us she was a powerful sorceress but TWO powerful magic users working together is surely a force to be reckoned with!! You must tell me what you know! I want to learn everything!"
His words forced a smile to my face, and I couldn't help the blush that accompanied it.
His praises continued. "I knew you had to be quite skilled to be so close to Princess Ava, but this explains it all! You were simply trying to hide your abilities so that we wouldn't expect your attack if something went wrong!! How incredibly intelligent!" He leaned forward, excitement practically bursting from him. "Please read this 'tarot' I simply must see your skills firsthand!"
I let a chuckle escape and went back to shuffling the deck. Two cards fell out.
"You know what Leif!! One of these days you're gonna wish you kept your dirty little mouth shut for once!!"
Leif was (as usual) doing nothing but being the biggest menace he possibly could be. Stealing my phone, going through my things, screaming in my ear, shit talking, etc.
To say I had enough was an understatement. The only thing that kept me from wringing his neck was a large muscley arm wrapping around my torso and throwing me over his shoulder. "Hey! Wha- PEIRCE!!" My screaming didn't stop him from wordlessly lugging me to my room and tossing me onto the bed. Now I know what you're thinking 'omg that's so sexy this is totally about to get fun' well I thought the exact same thing the first three times this happened, and I'll admit the thought still crosses my mind the twelve times it's happened since then but NO! This is still a (mostly) family friendly blog after all (for now).
Anyway, I sit up with a groan and glare at Peirce who has made himself comfortable in the chair in the corner of the room. This happens so often that it's practically scripted at this point. Leif is an ass, I get frustrated, Peirce gets tired, carries me to my room, then babysits me so I won't go out and try to strangle the antagonistic fiend in the other room.
At this point I'm done. I'm so sick of Leif and his attitude and lack of consequences. Just because they think Ava is a powerful sorceress and they don't think I'm anything more than her confidant doesn't mean they get to push me around. Leif is gonna get what's coming to him.
I glance at Peirce who is sitting arms crossed, still watching me though his gaze is softer now. I jump off the bed and head to my desk. digging through the drawers I pull out some candles and begin flipping through the book of incantations I keep tucked under a floorboard. I used to store said book in my nightstand drawer but surprise surprise, the guys went rummaging through my things and I don't trust them not to mess with it.
I'm missing a key piece to the puzzle. "Hey Peirce?"
A hum can be heard from the corner.
"Could I talk you into stealing some of Leif's hair for me?" I turn and give him the sweetest least guilty smile I could muster. He rises slowly and stalks over to me looming as he stared into my eyes as if inspecting for a motive. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't realized how much larger than me he was, because I had defiantly noticed, and it was absolutely something I thought of frequently.
He let out quiet grunt and left the room. I was probably imagining the blush on his cheeks, but the image was going to stay in my head for a painfully long time.
"Peirce w- OW!!! YOU PRICK WHAT THE HELL!!!"
Leif's screaming was nothing new, but it almost made my heart swell to know that Peirce was willing to potentially start a confrontation just to get something I asked without any context at all. 'I should definitely kiss him for that'
He came back into the room holding a suspiciously large chunk of blond hair and handed it to me. I smiled at him, and he nodded before following me over to my desk.
"What are you doing?" His voice always caught me off guard. It was a beautiful, gentle, sound that filled my ears like a deep breath after drowning. I wish he would talk more but I didn't ever want to force him.
"I'm gonna hex him."
"Leif?"
I hum a confirmation and turn to the desk with the supplies. He continues his questioning. "On Daemos it takes a very skilled witch to perform such a task. Are you a skilled witch?"
I nod. The 'skilled' aspect was more or less true. My mentor was very skilled, and I'd been training under her for almost two years now, but I still had a long way to go, and she'd probably scold me big time for simply attempting this... but who said she had to know.
"So you are...magic?"
I turned to look at him. He stood next to the desk, eyes fixed on the task before me, and I couldn't help but smile as I responded. "Yea, something like that. Why?"
A flash of concern passed over his face, but it was quickly replaced with a soft smile that almost melted my heart to the floor.
"It's good to be powerful. I'm glad to know you can keep yourself safe while I can't." Pierce's words shot straight to my heart and tears instantly welled in my eyes.
"Thank you...Pierce." The blush that filled his cheeks at my words was enough to distract me from the fact that I had already lit the candles and was now burning the hair I held in my hands. "OW! SHIT!"
The hair fell from my hands right onto the carpet below us causing a mini panicked stomp dance to shake the room and probably the downstairs neighbor's entire apartment but that also probably the least obnoxious thing they've heard from up here so what can you do I guess.
Welp...there goes that hex...
Pierce begins to walk out the door. "I will bring you more." and despite the screams from the other room, the only expression I could muster was a flustered smile.
I hope you enjoyed!! Please feel free to send feed back, this whole blog is an attempt to work on my writing skills so I'm completely open to suggestions and constructive criticism!
— Please know heads-up that the lovely Rhyva art doesn't BELONG to me. It belongs RIGHTFULLY to an artist on discord named "organation" (or me awesome oomf please say hi to them) –#Akeira(OOC)
SIDE NOTE🐈⬛: "I won't be talking much here since it feels awkward but I will if I feel being in character today👀 Oh, and feel free to give me questions, funfacts!"
Okay speaking of scars and reader insert headcanons um. I'm making this a general ask so that I don't show bias but also because maybe there are other enjoyers who are too shy to ask so I'm going to see if I can get that ball rolling but ALSO no pressure to do this or answer at all, and i know you're working on other things so please take your time and don't feel pressured okay onto the question so-
Ahem. Uh. Daemos reactions to having their scars admired and potentially touched/kissed maybe if they're comfortable with that? And also if you're comfortable with writing that no pressure though-
Of course <3 Let me write those up for you!
Asch 🔥
Asch doesn’t understand, and finds it stupid, but begrudgingly lets you, because a caress means you love him, right? He’d probably mumble something about how he would’ve totally defeated Rhal if he wasn’t older and had authority. After a minute, he quietly murmurs a “Thank you..”
Rhys 🌊
“Well.. I uh.. I wasn’t the best at magic yet, I’m not sure why you’d care for my mistakes so much.”
Rhys would explain the ins and outs of every scar, but despite his rambling, he’s just trying to hide how enamored he is with you. Humans truly will find beauty in everything, won’t they? He’s embarrassed, and a bit guilty for how little he initially thought of you, but he truly finds it amazing.
Pierce 🩵
“…Yes.”
He would slip off his drape, and miiggght slightly lean towards you as you kissed him. Caressing injuries is a strange tradition, but a part of him can’t help but want it. Somehow it took away from the pain of when it happened to him.
“You are kind.”
Afterwards, whenever he notices you harmed in the slightest way you KNOW he’s running up to kiss you lightly, to help in whatever way he could.
Noi 🐈
“Really?!? You- you think so?”
Noi is blushing and stammering like crazy, everytime asking you if you really mean it. He gives you a caress back, because he’s happy to be included. You two would probably end up asleep in a pile soon afterwards.
Leif 🌿
“Hah, yeah, that one was a doozy.”
Leif would brag about his scars, I have no doubt. He’d still be shocked about you loving them, but he loves that. You’re his favorite human, only you could see so much good in a daemos like him.
