Everyone thought he was just a sex freak. That seemed to be the only thing on his mind: Sex. But, that was all he knew, that was all he thought he was good for — having sex, pleasuring others. He saw himself worth nothing more than a simple sex toy.
Even so, as long as he could leave people satisfied sexually, he could ignore the empty feeling in his chest. It didn’t matter how he felt, right? As long as he could get an orgasm out of his partner, as long as they got their way with him, as long as they were satisfied, it was alright. That’s how you made people happy. If you put yourself out, people would be happy with you, wasn’t that what he’s been taught for years?
If everyone else was happy, he could pretend he was happy, too.
Even as he fell in love and married, he still believed sex was the way to go. Even if his partner would insist they didn’t have to have sex if he didn’t want to — he would simply shake his head. Even if he didn’t want to do it, but they wanted to do it, and if made them happy, then who cared what he wanted?
It never matter what he wanted, and it wouldn’t ever matter. He was just a sex toy with a pretty face. Wasn’t that right?
that way, this way, the devil is over here
you’re playing right into my hands
i want you
one pair? two pair? no, is it a full house?
‘cause it was exposed
unseen, unseeable, close up both of those eyes
“it’s not here,” “is that so?” -- a tricked appearance
your pretentious cards are dazzling, Mr. Prince
words: 1104
song used: poker face (melost)
/”All the time, all the time, I trick people. Just like so, just like this, you’ll catch on eventually . . .”/
They say that a smile is the prettiest thing a person can wear.
And all he wore were smiles.
They were what he was known for – they were his best quality, his most attractive feature, his lady-killer, even – he was famous for his sweet, charming smiles. There wasn’t a single person in the kingdom who hadn’t acknowledged the beauty of his nearly infectious grins.
They also say, however, that smiles make people wonder what you’ve been up to. With how often he smiled, it was almost impossible not to wonder what the country’s lovely prince was always up to. How did he manage to always be so positive, so likeable, so utterly charming?
/”The perfect crime, that’s what this is – I kill you.”/
However, for those who have worked closely with the prince, those who had been around him and in his presence for long enough — they knew that there was something dark about him. He was a secretive person, he never said what he was doing or what he was up to, and he spoke in riddles – it was almost impossible to get an honest answer out of their dear Prince Eri.
His smiles were a pretty disguise he had devised himself, a façade, really. They hid his true intentions, his true motives, his true self. He didn’t want anyone to know who and what he really was. His only goal was domination; to dominate over all, to become something better than what he currently was, to become something that everyone, his family included, would respect. Respect was all he ever wanted.
But respect was something he rarely got.
/”Got myself an alibi, a surface face, taking on the appearance of a good child.”/
Oh, sure, the people respected him, but that was a given. They couldn’t see past his sweet smiles and charming demeanor, and he was their prince. Of course they respected him. Gaining the respect of his family, and the other royals, however . . . ? That was a far different story.
That was quite alright, though, he’d gain respect on his own, in his own little way. With his brother, the emperor, by his side, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to get his way. They had similar plans of universal and trans-dimensional domination – even if his brother’s feelings of guilt occasionally interfered – they were going to be all-powerful, and completely and utterly unstoppable. He wouldn’t allow anyone or anything to get in the way. He hadn’t spent years of internalized suffering and marginalized inferiority to only lose it all in the end over something trivial, even if both he and his brother knew they were in way over their heads.
/”I’m so happy I won, a flower weighs a monme – I want that kid, I want you.”/
He was going to get his way, no matter the consequences. Even if it came down to his death at the end of it all, nobody could say he didn’t try. That he didn’t put in all of his effort. He couldn’t possibly let something as trivial as his brother’s feelings for a demon get in the way—
. . . even though, his brother claims those feelings never existed. Or, at least, they didn’t exist anymore. He knew he was lying, though.
You weren’t supposed to play with demons, that was the law, demons were heartless, cruel creatures that were only good for slaves, soldiers, and slaughtering, but little did most people know was that was exactly what the royal Dimitri Kagamine family did. How else would they get their power?
Generations of pacts with powerful demons, generations of the study of black magic and demonic rituals. Their fathers had sealed away the two demon emperors to siphon their power when the twins were young children, and he and his brother had a blood pact with the Death Shinigami himself.
No one could’ve possibly known this, though, at least no one that wasn’t close enough to the family. As far as the public eye was aware of, demons were dangerous creatures that couldn’t be trusted – creatures that only pretended to care for us until they found the right moment to strike. Demons could not be trusted. If it weren’t for their usefulness as slaves and soldiers, they would’ve killed them all. It was only right for the emperors to destroy the demon kingdom, wasn’t it? They were planning to attack us anyways. If we hadn’t struck first, they would’ve killed all humans. They were absolutely despicable creatures. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that what all the books say?
He didn’t necessarily hate demons, per se. He knew they weren’t all actually evil creatures. But, after years of being subjected to ridicule and being considered sub-par, and second-rate compared to his brother by his own parents – to the point where they even only allowed his brother to rise to emperor, for the sole reason of not believing he deserved the right of having that power – topped with the fact his brother, and lover, had an affair with one of their demon soldiers, he had been driven by hatred and pure determination ever since.
He had no sympathy for demons, they would only get in his way. They took things away from him. He wasn’t going to now lose everything he had worked for, for so, so many years, just because dear Emperor Ren felt bad for some demon commander he once had a fling with. It was already bad enough he had lost the title of Ren’s one and only, he wasn’t going to lose the respect and power he was going to gain at the end of it all, either; it’d have to be pried from his cold, dead hands.
That was why, once they found him – he wasn’t going to give this up any time soon. No matter how his dear brother felt.
/”Bargaining points? Don’t count on them! ‘Cause I stole the joker you showed me—“
A family full of darker secrets and even darker people, that’s how it was, and how it has been for years. If it weren’t for their power and sweet, innocent smiles and demeanor, they might’ve been overthrown generations ago.
And he wasn’t about to be the generation that got overthrown.
His determination and drive was nearly unrivaled.
What a shame would it be if that were put to waste.
/”My other face is a liar, but is it just to hide my embarrassment? Hey, I don’t know – you tell me!/”
for tsunderelen
she really likes Miaka. so. take this--
words: 347
“There you are.”
A smooth, calm voice spoke from behind you. You could hear light footsteps approach you before a pair of muscular tattooed arms embraced you from behind. Miaka pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin on it, and you felt your cheeks heating up as the seconds ticked by.
“I missed you, you know.”
“I m-missed you too.”
You could feel his cool breath against your scalp as he chuckled, quietly, before slowly turning you around so that you could face him. He picked you up — you wrapped your legs around his waist, blushing all the while – and he pecked a kiss to your nose. You smiled, resting your hands on his shoulders as he gripped your hips gently.
You always felt tiny in his arms – he was over a foot taller than you and built like a rock, but he always handled you delicately, like a piece of fine china. He was always careful not to hurt you.
“Stop being so tall,” you pouted, the tiniest whine in your voice, “you make me feel short.”
“Maybe because you are short,” he teased, tilting his head to one side. You could see his demon tail flick back and forth, slowly, like a cat’s.
“Miaka!” He only laughed at your response before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. His lips were always soft, but icy. He himself was always cold to the touch. It took you a great deal of getting used to when you both had started dating three months ago – but eventually, you found comfort in his cool embrace. You couldn’t imagine him without it.
“I love you, shorty,” he grinned as he stroked your lower back with the tips of his fingers.
“I love you too,” you couldn’t help but pout again at being called shorty, but eventually that pout was replaced with a smile.
He was your demon prince, and your demon prince only. Even if he could be a jackass sometimes, you loved that about him.
short drabble requested long ago (sorry) by submarinne
Tony's tongue slides over the base of his neck, probing the hard ridges of his collarbones. A groan bubbles up Steve's throat and squeezes past his parted lips, and he opens his eyes when a hand closes over them, muffling the sound.
"Gave you a warning, Cap," Tony murmurs quietly, tone chastising. He drums his fingers up the insides of Steve's thighs, sending his muscles rippling in pleasure. "Can't seem to convince you that discretion is key here."
Before Steve can think of a reply, Tony's hand clamps around his cock and gives a solid stroke.
Steve recoils back into his seat and bites down on his lip as Tony strokes him in harsh, rapid pumps. His dark eyes bore into Steve's, silently but eagerly watching his face to note each twitch and shiver.
A couple of moments and Steve knows he’s close, the corners of his eyes creeping white with heat.
"Tony- I'm," He manages through clenched teeth before the hand tightens over his mouth again, blunt nails digging into his jaw.
"Shhh," Tony breathes. His mouth latches onto the flesh of Steve's neck and suckles blotchy, dark indentations between his teeth. The marks throb and Steve can feel his blood jump underneath them. "I'll take care of you, Cap. You almost there?"
Steve can only nod feverishly as a response and Tony's mouth parts into a grin, lips red and wet and ridiculously appealing.
He bends down to shrug off his trousers and soon enough he's climbing onto Steve's lap, pushing himself up against his broad chest. Steve accommodates him, leaning back in his seat and parting his thighs, hands coming to settle lightly on either sides of Tony's narrower hips.
Tony slowly lowers himself down, dark eyebrows furrowing and tongue dragging across his lips, as Steve arches against him, into him. His blood thrums an erratic beat against Tony's skin, an eerie rush in his ears that seems to drag on for hours before Tony starts to move.
Tony mutters a curse under his breath. His hand grasps the seat of the chair and uses it as leverage as he starts to push himself up, then down.
Steve brings up his hips to meet Tony's, a light whine scraping against his throat, but Tony's hand is still closed over his mouth. He prods against the fingers with a push of his tongue, but they won't relent.
"Focus," Tony bites out a breath before he slings an arm around Steve's neck, and rolls his hips in earnest. Steve shakes hard against him, a tremor dancing across his shoulders and spine as he slides tentative hands up Tony's sweat-slicked back.
ridiculously short drabble requested by gentletide
Loki slid his fingers up Clint's arms, tracing the veins with avid interest.
“I’m going to bleed you dry,” He crooned into Clint’s ear, watching as his captive shivered, skin already hypersensitive from the frost. He raised his head to level a tired but defiant glare, at which Loki smiled almost lovingly.
He dug blunt nails into Clint’s jaw, watching the ball of his adam’s apple bob and constrict. He slowly squeezed his fingers into the sides of the metal gag and into Clint’s mouth.
He breathed out a satisfied laugh when the archer struggled, clenching his jaw as if to bite but was unable to.
He started move and thrust the fingers inside Clint’s mouth. The archer gagged, blue eyes wet, tearing and narrowing in revulsion. Loki hummed in approval.
“I think I do prefer you in your muzzle.” Loki murmured into the nape of his neck and chuckled softly when he felt Clint’s skin break into gooseflesh.
“Loki, I’ve given you fair warning,” Thor ground out. “If this persists–“
Loki cut in. “Have a little faith, Thor. I’ll be tending to you in a second.”
His eyes flitted down to the nape of Clint’s neck as he continued to strain against his bonds. Veins jutted out deliciously from the tanned flesh, and Loki’s lips stretched into a leering smile. “Oh, I am going to have such fun with you.”
Thor snarled. “Brother!” He struggled against his bonds to no avail.
“Patience, Thor,” Loki said distantly as he bent down to his knees. “The least you can do is enjoy the show first.” He pushed his slicked hair to the side, tilted his neck, and sank his teeth, slowly, into Clint’s jugular.
Clint’s muffled groan filled the room as Loki worked silently on his throat, fingers curling harshly into Clint’s hair and tugging. Thor winced slightly at the sharp, metallic tang that pierced the air.
When Loki finally drew away, Thor could see on Clint’s throat a keening wound, trails of blood wetting the blotchy skin.
Loki wiped his mouth with a long finger, taking a moment to marvel at his work before he straightened, loosening his grip on Clint’s hair.
The archer sucked out rapid, harsh breaths against his gag as he twisted his shoulders to give less exposure to his bleeding wound, blue eyes shining, glaring, and narrowed tight in pain.
Loki grinned, eyes impossibly smug, and stained lips terrifyingly red, as he fixed his gaze on Thor, who looked back at him with his eyes containing something akin to dazed horror.
The dank alley smelled of piss and grime. He was never going to get the stench out of his jacket. And any minute now Jim was going to throw up on him and complete the cycle. Fucking fantastic.
“Well aren’t you mister ss-sunshine,” Jim sang, staggering even with Sebastian’s arms around his shoulders, supporting his weight. “Worst right-hand man, I swear.” He batted his arms away.
“Only right-hand man,” Sebastian corrected wryly, as he warily let go of him. He watched Jim trot away happily with an occasional lurch in his steps.
“I do reevaluate my choices.” Jim called, stretching his arms out and waving them as he sauntered onward.
“I thought you wanted me around so you don't get this-“ He broke off as he watched Jim’s knees crumple and hit the pavement. Jim fell over, rocking on the pavement with giggles and laughter. “Vulnerable. Fucking wonderful,” he finished with a mutter as he walked quickly to Jim, who was pawing at the brick wall of the alleyway in an attempt to stand.
“I certainly feel fucking wonderful.” Jim drawled, before giving it up as a bad job and grasping Sebastian’s pant leg and tugging in a dignified fashion. He let Sebastian pull him to his feet, and he stood up and steadied himself, leaning against the taller man, hands braced against his chest.
“You alright?” Sebastian grunted into the top of Jim’s head, which was becoming a messy mop of brown mingled with pomade and alcohol. He frowned. “What the hell did they feed you anyway?”
He heard Jim chuckle. “Nothing I didn’t sign up for.” Then he was sliding down again, and Sebastian made an instinctual move to grab him before he noticed the smug smile on Jim’s face.
“What-“ He managed before Jim grabbed a handful of his ass.
“Still pretty firm,” Jim observed, a smile cracking into his lips as he groped contemplatively. He settled into a crouch, ignoring Sebastian’s stunted attempt at a response before he looked around, assessing the abandoned streets. He nodded slightly, then hooked a finger into the man’s belt buckles. “I suppose this will do.”
Sebastian was sure he was about to say something as Jim unfastened his pants, a refusal or, something, and he had it at the tip of his tongue before he felt Jim palm him through his the layer of his briefs.
“I must admit I was hoping you’d gone commando,” Jim licked his lips and lowered his head. “But, ah well, this will do perfectly.” He opened his mouth and his tongue stroked a heated line up over the cotton layer.
Sebastian clenched his jaw, settling his back against the wall. He took a few seconds before tangling his hand into Jim’s hair and pulling.
Jim staggered up slightly with a wince, and Sebastian bent low and murmured into his ear. “If you’re going to do this, do it properly.”
Jim’s eyes took on a sharp edge, the one that Sebastian kept counting that must have indicated anger, irritation, hunger, something, but Sebastian didn’t care at this point because he was already aching and hard.
“Eager, aren’t we. Then straight and easy to the point.” He pushed his fingers into the bands of Sebastian’s briefs and lowered them. He ran his tongue over his teeth when his cock emerged, half erect. “And this is impressive. Have I said that already?” Jim mused, as he palmed the base before lowering his mouth and pressing his tongue to the head of his cock.
Sebastian hissed as his fingers clenched into Jim’s hair.
“I said- fucking properly,” he warned.
Jim bobbed his head irritably and withdrew, murmuring “needy, needy.” He slicked his lips with a swipe of his tongue before, with one smooth sweep, he lowered his head to take the rest of him, full and hard into his mouth.
The way Jim’s tongue was working him, the suction of his plump lips, the perfect, wet slide of his tongue against his cock, Sebastian felt something hard coil tight inside his stomach.
The brick wall against his back was stiff and unyielding, and he found himself groaning and clawing at it in almost a desperate scrabble. “F-ff-fuck.” He breathed out through clenched teeth.
