Work Text:
When Shen Qingqiu transmigrated, he transmigrated into an AU fanfic of Proud Immortal Demon Way. Unfortunately, he was struggling to figure out the exact parameters of the AU, or even what the AU was supposed to be about.
It wasn't anything so obvious as an A/B/O AU, and there weren't nearly enough men making eyes at each other for it to have been a Green JJ sister creation. Luo Binghe was on Qing Jing Peak, all the wives were present and accounted for, and everything seemed to be lining up the same way as it did in canon, except for one tiny little exception.
"Shizuuuun..." the currently-indisposed protagonist sighed, tears glittering in pitch-black eyes, cheeks and neck flushed with the effects of the aphrodisiac, and... generous bosom heaving. "Please, I... this disciple... Shizun, please..."
The protagonist was a young woman.
Nothing, nothing was different about the world or the plot, as far as he could tell, except that the noble stallion protagonist was a filly.
He had yet to figure out if this meant it was a reverse harem novel or a lala harem novel. His little white lamb was too busy bleating, Shizun, Shizun! for him to figure out exactly where the legendary horniness was directed.
She didn't seem to be packing, so to speak, and certainly not anything of the heavenly pillar's caliber, which swung the needle towards reverse harem, but all the original love interests were still women, and there simply weren't enough men in PIDW to make up the difference!! Ming Fan seemed to like her in a 'pulling pigtails' kind of way, but she didn't give him the time of day and most of the other named men were in Shen Qingqiu's generation.
At a loss for what the overall plot was supposed to be now that the biggest cornerstone of the plot—'and then Luo Binghe stuck his massive dick in the problem and screwed it until it was fixed'—was gone, he had been letting this cute little filly of a protagonist chase his heels and get underfoot while she grew her cultivation. It seemed to make her happy, at least?
And, well—the sweet lotus might be tinted pink, but she had that soul that Shen Qingqiu had adored in her canon counterpart, and Shen Qingqiu could only look at his bold, sweet young sprout for so many seconds in a row before his heart started spouting poetry.
Which made their current predicament rather, hm.
Awkward, shall we say.
A night hunt, check. A field of springtime flowers straight from a papapa plot, check. A ravishing maiden of peerless beauty writhing and moaning and begging for dick, check.
Stallion protagonist here to fix the problem with a sufficiently heavenly monstrosity? ...No check. Just sex pollened filly and a scum villain who was trying to rehabilitate his reputation, thank you! And if she kept saying Shizun like that...
Well. He was lucky that these stupid xianxia robes were so good at hiding an erection.
A half-heavenly demon could shake off anything, but sex pollen would be uncomfortable for the poor girl and she kept—kept—kept talking like that, and he could feel his self control start to fray at the edges.
"Shizun," she whimpered—whimpered—and let out a heart-rending little half-sob that took claws to his insides. She shrunk against the tree she as using for support and moaned, "Please, it hurts..."
"What does?" he asked, approaching her against his better judgement. As far as he could tell, the protagonist was still the type to repay kindness and cruelty thousandfold, and he didn't have the faintest idea which between 'leaving her to weather out a very uncomfortable bout of sex pollen alone' and 'forcing himself on her, noncon-style, in order to spare her' would count as kindness and which would count as cruelty.
She let out a soft, unfairly erotic little ah when he touched her fever-hot cheek, then cupped her face to briefly check her meridians.
Ah, incoming qi deviation.
That would be even worse than the pollen.
...Dammit.
"Binghe," he said softly, urgently, willing himself to ignore the gemstone-like glitter of her tears as they escaped her starry eyes, "you're going to qi deviate. Dual—" His voice cracked, doing irreparable damage to his image, and he willed himself to ignore that too. "—dual cultivation may be the only way to—"
She cut him off with another heartfelt moan, already nodding frantically. "Please, Shizun, please, please, pleasepleaseplease—"
...Aaaaagh, he had a hard enough time saying no when she asked nicely!! Fine!! Protagonist, you had better be reasonable about this later!!!
He stooped to kiss her, and she cut him off with a lunge, throwing her arms around his neck and crashing into his mouth teeth-first.
Shen Qingqiu couldn't claim to be the most experienced guy out there—but he had had a girlfriend or two in college who, while being much more interested in his credit card than him, still felt it was their duty to teach him how to kiss, despite it being quite clear that no one was feeling it much.
As awkward as those experiences had been at the time, he was grateful for them now, because when he finally managed to force Binghe's sloppy, puppyishly eager attentions to a halt, he could turn it into a much more reasonable kiss, one that felt—
—felt—
Binghe melted under his hands, her soft, plush body going sweetly pliant as she tried to fuse their bodies with needy little squirms, indescribably hot little noises uttered directly into his mouth, a desperate string of, nh, mh, Sh-Shizun, giving him the wildest urge to back away and make her cry for real that was directly countered by the equally wild urge to pin her against the tree and shred both their clothes until he had access to her—
His groin throbbed harder with every heartbeat, imagining burying inside wet, silk heat deeper and rougher and—they... they needed to dual cultivate. Properly.
He impatiently pulled the hair sticks from her bun, getting a solid grip on the waves of chestnut silk that spilled forth with his left hand and stroking down her body with his right, making her shiver and whimper.
"Please, Shizun," she cried softly, arching and trying to get him where she wanted him, and he was helpless to resist.
They got her on top of a conveniently-placed branch, boosting her up high enough that he could bury his face in the crook of her neck while his inexperienced fingers stroked her soaked flower, trying desperately to figure out what she liked instead of obsessing over how much he wanted to stick his dick in it. The way her entrance felt around his fingers alone...
He barely remembered to connect their qi, letting her unload erratic surges of it directly into his veins and jerk roughly at his power in turn, opening himself up almost absently as he found the little bud that made her jolt like she'd been electrocuted and make a sound so pretty he never wanted to hear anything else for the rest of his life.
"Shizun!" she gasped in his ear, then choked out, "Shizun, Shizun, Shizun, Shizun..." as she clenched ferociously around his fingers and melted into bonelessness, the glow of yin energy flooding his body, converting into qi, and clearing out every trace of Without a Cure in one easy surge.
"I'm right here," he said, and despite his best efforts, his voice came out as a wrecked rasp. The sudden release from the poison was making him giddy, dizzy. "Silly child."
"Shizun," she said again, the whine flipping to pleading in the extreme, and it went straight to his dick. "Please, I need—I need you inside..."
"What's this then, ah?!" he demanded, crooking his fingers in her tight, molten hot pussy and making her clench down gratifyingly hard. Fuck he wanted to feel that on his dick so fucking b—
"Need your cock," she gasped, more tears squeezing from her eyes, enchanting him, "need it in me, Shizun's cock, please, please, please, Shizun!!"
He didn't know exactly how he avoided finishing mid-plea, but he supposed he should be grateful he hadn't. Neither of them could get Binghe's pants down fast enough, and Shen Qingqiu barely had enough patience to get his dick out and properly lined up with her entrance as she bent over and braced herself against the branch before thrusting in.
She shook and clenched and wailed, and he could only assume that the curing of Without a Cure had done something insane to his stamina, because the sound alone threatened to undo him, much less the physical stimulation, and the sight...
Her bare ass pressed to his hips, the plush, hourglass curve from her hips to her waist to her shoulders disguised under her disciple uniform, the dark strands of hair clinging to the sweat on her delicate white-flushed-pink neck where it escaped his grasp...
Taking her innocence like this, as her master, as the adult, as the one who should know better and yet he was still here—because she was begging for him, this sweet, delicate, virginal version of his favorite fictional character of all time making good on her porno origins, begging him to take her up against a tree in the middle of nowhere.
Fuck, why did it leave him so overwhelmingly hot?
(From this angle he couldn't even see her tears—not that that mattered!! Repress! Repress! Repress!)
He thrust experimentally and nearly whited out, clutching another nearby branch for support as he gritted his teeth against reaching the finish line. A faint thought about aren't condoms supposed to dull the sensation and help you last longer? and he realized an issue he had blanked on.
"Bing-he," he choked out, breathing through his teeth. "I need you to—I need to pull out—" She made a noise like he'd threatened to kill a beloved pet instead of a reasonable, if half-hearted attempt a birth control. "At the end. Be reasonable," he scolded tightly. "We don't have—contraceptives—"
Binghe stilled.
(The thought of turning the protagonist, already so sweet and soft like this, into a pregnant housewife did—something—to his hindbrain that he would happily never acknowledge for the rest of his life.)
"A-ah," Binghe half-breathed, half-moaned. "Mmnh. If Sh-Shizun releases his s-seed inside this one, he might i-impregnate h—ah!"
His hips had snapped forward hard, completely out of his control, as the thought blistered through his psyche and veins and dick all at once.
They both stilled that time, Shen Qingqiu in sudden, ice-cold horror, and Binghe in, presumably, the same.
(He was at the wrong angle to see the calculation and delight flicker through her too-clear eyes.)
Piteously, she whimpered, "I-if Shizun doesn't—doesn't pull out, this disciple, this Binghe might—she might—"
Almost resentfully, he started thrusting, hating what that voice saying things like that did to his bloodstream, the crawl of panic sharpening the arousal until it was nearly painful.
Given that this was the world of PIDW, he doubted anything could actually come of it, regardless of where he shot his load—who heard of a scum villain impregnating a teenage protagonist outside overwrought soap opera television or melodramatic litfic?—but even just the idea...
"Ah, ah, ah, ah—she might st-st-start to grrrrow Shizun's ba-by!" she gasped as her sweet, tight, vulnerable little pussy was pounded with increasing fervor, her back arching beautifully as he pulled on her silken locks in punishment. "If Sh-Sh-Shizun isn't careful, he'll make his Binghe a-a-all fat and round with his—ooh..."
She cut off as her yanked her hair a little too hard to try to shut up her unexpectedly filthy mouth—and then he caught sight of her expression.
The tearstained cheeks and borderline ahegao face wasn't enough to fully disguise the mischief, a look that said all of this was exactly what she wanted.
Fury and heat and something he refused to acknowledge as adoration at being played all welled up in him at once, and he deliberately slowed his thrusts, determined not to let himself be pushed over the edge before he wiped that look off her face.
She whined softly, frustrated and pouting. "Shizun..."
"My disciple said it herself," he said, smooth but for how his voice sounded like he smoked a pack a day, furiously thickening his face and bringing every drop of his poser power to bear, "if this master isn't careful, his student might end up preg-nant."
Her insides clutched him like a vice, milking his cock almost desperately, her beautiful, teary eyes flying open and then slamming shut in shocked bliss, a half-sob ringing in his ears.
The rush of delirious power that coursed through his entire body wasn't just the yin essence she'd just flooded him with.
With the hand that wasn't holding her hair, he cradled her lower belly, right over her womb, and was rewarded handsomely with more fluttering clenches and another surge of yin. "If this master was pushed to forget himself, he might leave a ch-child right here." His face was burning with humiliation, his tongue thick with it, but as much as he hated the embarrassment, he hated the idea of her getting away with her little ploy more. He rubbed a circle around her bellybutton, feeling its location through her clothing. "Binghe's cultivation progress would have to stop until it was born, unless she wanted to bring harm to my child. It wouldn't be long before everyone knew how your master had defiled you, impregnated you, made you his."
She came again, even harder than before, her shout echoing through the forest and making a flock of birds take flight. "Yes, Shizun," she gasped, slurring, cute ghibli tears rolling down her pretty, passion-wrecked face. "Yes, yes, please, Shizun, Shizun!!"
"My disciple is always so determined to pretend to be my—my little wife." Whatever was possessing him to say these words, he was desperately grateful that she couldn't see his face as he said them. He couldn't take it as it was! "If this master doesn't pull out, she'll be puttering around our home with a womb so full she can't dust the corners—"
Distantly, he wondered if he should simply end it all as soon as she was cured, so he wouldn't have to live in a world where he'd let such ideas see the light of day, while Binghe came so hard on his cock she started sobbing hysterically.
He let go of her hair in order to wrap both arms around her, as close as the position would let them be, and soothed her softly, trying not to think about why the desperate noises were making his hips just want to move.
"—inside, Shizun, please, please, Shizun, come inside, don't s—fill me, fill me, don't—your Binghe is begging—yours, yours, yours—"
Shen Qingqiu no longer controlled the speed or aggression of his thrusts. Any remnants of his self-control had disintegrated to dust at being begged in such a way. That he couldn't fully identify what it sounded like she was begging for, shamefully, only made it worse.
He didn't pull out. He couldn't if he tried.
(He wouldn't admit under pain of death that he hadn't tried at all, nor his reasons for why not.)
In the aftermath, he slumped against the trunk of the tree, circulating both their qi, ensuring that the energies generated by the dual cultivation were properly distributed, and gathered the trembling, cured protagonist into his arms, feeling terribly protective of his bullied little maiden now full of his cum.
Her knees were on either side of his hips in this position, and he was barely starting to catch his breath when her soaked and sloppy flower started to move against his half-deflated erection with purpose.
...Not bullied enough, apparently.
"Binghe."
Her brilliant deep charcoal eyes fixed on him, filled with tears. "Shizun, I-I... the pollen—it needs more. I feel so..."
He opened his mouth to accuse her of bullshit, but the glittering wetness on her cheeks stopped his tongue with guilt. The pollen should have been cleared after the first orgasm or two, same as Without a Cure, but what if they hadn't moved far enough away?
He sighed. "We must move back to camp..."
The tears disappeared rather conveniently, Binghe's perfectly clear eyes lighting up, and Shen Qingqiu wondered what on earth he'd gotten himself into.
Oh, well. It wasn't as if anything could come of it.
Naturally, something came of it.
Being six months pregnant at the time, Luo Binghe could hardly attend the Immortal Alliance Conference, and Shen Qingqiu stayed behind as well, deeply relieved that the System hadn't changed its mind on telling him to throw her into the Endless Abyss or else.
(The System, he learned early on, could be capricious about what it demanded and what it didn't—and, strangely, threatening to turn Binghe into a man before pushing her in was the one thing that got the System to back off immediately. He'd been a bit worried because he wasn't about to try that when she was expecting, but the System seemed to find 'pregnant' a worthy substitute.)
So, while in another universe he was making one of the worst decisions of his life, in this one he was sitting on the daybed of the bamboo house, kneading the soles of his wife's(?!?!) sore feet and threading in healing qi to negate the damage while the owner of said feet cradled her stomach and sighed in bliss.
"I am surprised everyone was so accepting of this," he mused, enjoying the buttery softness of her arches. "Why does no one think I assaulted and trapped my personal disciple? Everyone takes it on faith that Binghe was willing."
She tilted her head and stared at him. "Why wouldn't they?" She rubbed her stomach, every bit of her softening in ways he tried not to think about too hard, for fear of doing something he'd regret. "I still have this..." She trailed off briefly with a glowingly happy blush, and his heart took a one-two step. "...this little one, don't I?"
It didn't allay his misgivings much. Really, wasn't everyone way too forgiving?! What if he'd actually been the worst scum of the earth?!! "But how would they know my Binghe was willing?"
She gave him a puzzled look. He fiddled with his fan.
"Shizun," she said slowly, "the first thing female cultivators are taught about dual cultivation is how to end an unwanted spark. This disciple would have needed to return with her cultivation suppressed for them to consider I didn't want it. Is it... not the same for men?"
Shen Qingqiu stared at his fan for several long moments, considering the weeks-long crisis he'd had about assaulting and (accidentally) (semi-accidentally) (really accidentally) baby-trapping the protagonist under the effects of sex pollen, only to be informed once he'd made peace with his sins that nonconsensual baby-trapping was nearly impossible under the circumstances, and the protagonist was pregnant with his child because she really wanted to be pregnant with his child.
Then, without answering her, he excused himself to take a walk, so he could have his second crisis in peace.