The thought of Reincarnated Reader coming to see Belos willingly after YBOS would probably get him going a bit. He’d think about them at first just being curious, but eventually things would take a turn, and they’d ask him to take them. Whether he knows this wouldn’t happen or he’s deluded enough to think it could, he can’t stop fantasizing about it. The man’s pent up.
I was wondering when I was going to cross that line again. >w> Haven't written smut since February, and I haven't written smut for Yandere situations since... Well... When did the ban happen? Jeeze...
OH, he's pent up all right. He lost what Beloved sounded like over the centuries and hasn't found much lasting relief in quite a long time. That is... until the reader showed up at the Petrification Ceremony. He's not as delusional about it yet, but I imagine that'll change.
Smut under cut. Non-con implied but is not the bulk of the piece nor aimed at the reader so tread carefully. This is still Yandere material. Heed all warnings before proceeding.
Even back then, he had daydreams of just taking you when you were alone with him. Tearing off your clothes, holding you down, and just fucking you senseless. You wouldn’t fight him either. You’d enjoy every second of it, holding onto him for dear life, begging him for more while mewling his name over and over again. He could hear your voice so clearly when he closed his eyes. Of course, he’d never act on it, no matter how tempted he was. That’s not how he was raised, nor was that how he wanted his first time with you to happen. He wanted to take his time with you and savor it. This was just something to think about as he laid in bed at night, stroking himself until he was raw and dazed.
As the years turned into decades, he lost your voice. He was devastated when he couldn’t hear your voice over the victims he took to sate himself while he waited, each one looking strikingly similar to you. It was then that he realized he had failed in keeping his part of the deal to obtain you, that too much time had passed and you were gone. It took him years to come to terms with the fact that even though he had your sketch, he would never hear your voice again.
Losing your voice in his mind was also due to those witches who stood in for you. If it weren’t for them, he’d remember it as clear as a bell but they had to scream and cry and beg to be released. It only angered him greatly once he was over the fact they looked like you that they were to blame for taking something so precious away from him. Once your voice was gone, his victims started to last less longer than when he could hear it. He’d have them just to satisfy an itch, granted they were gagged to keep him from killing them during sex for reminding him of what their predecessors stole from him. As long as he could just look at them and picture you, he could satisfy himself but only for a short time. It never lingered like it used to.
But then… the Petrification Ceremony came. Belos had you, dead to rights. You were on your knees, tied up and helpless. You wouldn’t have been able to leave if it weren’t for him releasing you. He asked himself over and over again why he let you go as he entered the throne room. But the important thing was your voice was back. It echoed through his head clear again. He knew you were in the Boiling Isles for a while already, yet that was the first time he heard you speak.
Halfway to his throne, he ordered everyone out and had the doors slammed behind them with a powerful locking spell. His loins ached heavily, something that hadn’t happened since… well since he first saw the illusion of you from the Conformatorium raid. He began to feel light-headed with his breathing was labored enough for him to have to remove his mask to take in fresher air. Setting his mask aside, he collapsed into the seat and leaned back, legs apart, and started to palm himself while his mind wandered.
At first, he went straight back to what initially caused the aching, you standing before him with your eyes locked with his in a glare. That was the first time he had seen you face to face since he found out you were on the Boiling Isles. It was also the first time he heard your voice in centuries. Luz disappeared from the picture entirely and he just focused on you. You were angry, of course, but not about what he wanted you to be angry about. Since he already knew what you were angry over, he decided it was a change of scenery, his current place.
You storming through those currently locked doors, demanding answers to questions that only he knew the answer to. Your curiosity started all of this. Of course, he planned to tease you some before that angry scowl turned into a sad pout. His free hand dug into the arm of the throne as his breath hitched. Such a gorgeous expression. His body jolted hard at your voice suddenly ringing through his head. It was a lot more intense than he remembered.
“Why did you leave me?”
“Beloved, I had no choice,” he panted. “I had to… to prove myself to your father… to everyone…!”
“I didn’t want you to prove anything to anyone! I wanted you to come back home. Come back to me,” you scoffed, stepping closer. “I don’t care what they thought of you…”
He grunted softly, closing his eyes with his head tilted forward. Opening them slightly, he fumbled to release his throbbing member from his clothes and gripped it firmly before stroking it, slow at first. He started to become lost in his fantasy of you.
“I know, Beloved… I know… I-I’ll have everything finished up soon enough…” he swallowed hard and shuddered. “I promise-”
“Too much time has passed and I’m tired of waiting…”
A jolt shot up his spine when you moved closer, your eyes boring into his again, only this time with a sultry gaze. When you reached the throne, you placed both hands on either arm and slid a knee onto the seat next to his hip. You did the same with the other until you were straddling his lap. Your hands moved from the arms of the throne to his chest and they slid up to his jaw, one caressing it while the other ran up his cheek and through his hair. Belos stared up at you with shock.
“B-Beloved-”
“Besides, haven’t you done enough… my Emperor…?”
His eyes started to glow brightly and became half-lidded as a primal urge rose in his chest.
“Yes…” he breathed.
“You built all of this from the ground up… Caused so many to suffer for their evil… Shouldn’t you give yourself a bit of a break?”
“Yes…!”
“Good… I think you should too…” you murmured, leaning into him and giving him a soft kiss but it didn’t last. Instead, you moved to his ear. “Fuck me, Philip.”
At that moment, he lost any control he was trying to keep hold of. His hands took hold of your clothes and tore them asunder desperately without a second thought. In no time, he was sitting on the edge of his throne, leaning forward with a death grip on you as he brought your hips down on him hard and fast, allowing decades upon decades of pent-up frustration out.
One arm had been locked around your waist with his fingers biting into your hip to force you to ride him while the other was hooked around your side with a hand splayed across your back, keeping you trapped against him. He could feel your hands gripping the clothes on his shoulders under his cloak, your legs tightening around his waist as he pounded your hips against his. Your cries and moans echoed off the walls of the throne room, belting out his name and begging him for more. His forehead rested on yours, his glowing eyes staring deeply into your own, never breaking away.
“Philip…!”
“I love you…” he panted huskily and began to repeat it each time your hips met his as his release drew near. The thought of emptying his seed into you for the first time was threatening to end him now. Not yet, he thought to himself. Your hands removed themselves from his shoulders and cupped his face before pulling him into a deep kiss.
“I love you, Philip,” you uttered back once the kiss was broken. “I always have…”
Feeling your body tense accompanied by a final cry as you hugged him tightly threw Belos into his own climax.
“B-Beloved!”
Something warm hit Belos in the face and his eyes snapped open. The fantasy was gone, just like that. Glancing down, he found that he had come, not in you as he had fantasized about, but all over the front of his clothes. He was a bit surprised at how much of it there was, and chalked it up to not finding anything satisfying enough to get such a reaction.
“What a mess,” he gave a breathy chuckle and stirred a finger. Instantly, the evidence of his self-pleasure dissipated. After fixing his clothes and making himself decent enough if anyone were to walk in on him, he allowed himself to rest against the back of the throne to enjoy the waning ecstasy, riding out wave after wave with a sated smile. He let out an amused hum, thinking back to how combative you were earlier that night and how his agreement was still in place. “Ah… nothing but wishful thinking…”
He leaned his head against his fist, exhaling slowly with his eyes closed.
“How rude of me. It’s Y/N now, isn’t it? I’ll have to remember that next time. Wonder if they would consider a name change...”